Cheshire looked at the fallen maid on the floor, then at Sahara, her face showing half relief, half bewilderment. After their kiss, he instead wore a triumphant and mischievous expression. It was contradictory. That seemed to have a greater impact on him than if she had jumped from here.
“Usually, ladies break their bones and die.”
Cheshire grumbled slightly. He seemed aware that she wasn’t an ordinary lady.
Sahara gazed at Cheshire’s rustling hair as it caught the shimmering light. It was more beautiful than the lantern light that had enchanted her to reach out earlier. His remarkably handsome face wore a dissatisfied expression, and purple eyes gleamed like jewels within his elegant gaze.
She wanted to raise her hand and touch him. He was more beautiful than the waves of light flooding the garden, and it felt like if she reached out, she could truly grasp him.
“What is it?”
Cheshire asked, noticing her staring.
“Nothing at all.”
She shook her head.
“How dull,” Cheshire muttered as he turned away.
Sahara followed him out of the room. Her heart was beating, thump-thump, in a low rhythm.
§ § § § §
The place Cheshire took Sahara was the dressing room opposite the Crescent Moon Room. A large vanity stood beneath the window. Behind a wave-shaped vase, a round mirror reflected Sahara.
“What on earth took so long that you couldn’t even get her dressed?”
At the sharp voice, they turned to see the princess they’d seen earlier on the platform approaching with fierce eyes. Behind her followed about fifteen ladies-in-waiting.
“―Ah, why bother asking. You must have been indulging in those vulgar habits again.”
Chloe, answering her own question, approached the two standing at the doorway. Her gaze fell on the open Crescent Moon Room and the disheveled bed. Clicking her tongue briefly, she greeted Sahara.
“I am Princess Chloe Ance Solante.”
Her tone was prim. Her face both resembled and differed from Cheshire’s, with red hair that curled naturally. She wore a lovely dress with thin pink fabric overlay, and despite her sharp gaze and primness, she exuded a fresh innocence. She looked somewhat like a fairy from a storybook.
“It’s an honor to meet you. I am Sahara Illoud.”
As Sahara tried to kneel in a knight’s greeting, Cheshire caught her.
“While dressing her, teach her proper greetings too. If she keeps kneeling like this, she won’t be able to dance even once.”
“I didn’t come to help. I came to confront you, brother.”
“You can help while confronting me.”
Cheshire said, pushing Sahara into the dressing room. He called the maids, leaving Chloe behind, and handed Sahara over to them. Chloe’s maids merely bowed before taking Sahara behind the screen. Given Sahara’s height, only the top of her head was visible above it.
The maids quickly removed the sheet wrapped tightly around Sahara’s shoulders and the lace slip she had been wearing, tossing them outside the screen as if they were dirty.
“……”
“I didn’t dress her, ―there was a misunderstanding.”
“What misunderstanding? Whatever criticism you receive, it’s all because of how you’ve lived, brother.”
Chloe scolded Cheshire with an exasperated tone. She sat in the chair before the vanity, resting her chin on her hand as she watched Sahara. The vanity’s position right below the window meant the inside of the screen was visible.
“―Return the other accessories too.”
“You must be punished for your rashness.”
Cheshire spoke while leaning against the doorframe, glancing at Sahara’s visible head. Chloe rolled her eyes at Cheshire’s unyielding response.
“It was a wrong promise in many ways. I didn’t even know the Monster of the North―no, that this person was a woman.”
“Neither did I.”
“That’s, but―”
“I traveled a long way thinking of you, yet you speak as if my efforts were for nothing. It’s not my fault Sahara turned out to be a woman.”
It seemed there was some sort of deal between the two. Sahara, listening to their conversation, put on the undergarments the maids brought her. Though she hadn’t been able to clean herself, it was better than being completely undressed.
“…Please, I beg you, at least return the necklace.”
Chloe’s voice was filled with sorrow. Cheshire shrugged.
“You know what you have to do to get the necklace back, don’t you?”
“…You’re telling me to help diligently.”
Chloe, leaning her arms on the vanity, quietly watched as Sahara was fitted into a corset.
“Though I doubt I’m even needed here.”
Even if she wore rags, men would still line up for her. Chloe added with a grumble.
“Her looks, sure, but… the social world is another battlefield entirely.”
She seems too much like a child to be presented in society. At Cheshire’s concern, Chloe turned to him.
“The one who turns the social world into a battlefield is the last person who should be saying that.”
Half the reasons women fought were because of Cheshire. She scoffed and turned her gaze back to Sahara. Rising from her seat, she approached Sahara, who was being tightened into the corset.
“Well… she’s certainly a bombshell. With a face like that, it’s almost laughable how rough and unrefined she is, not even knowing proper etiquette.”
There was no time to respond to her comment. The maids were pulling Sahara’s waist as tightly as they could. Sahara’s muscular waist resisted the tightening, but the maids were determined to overcome it. If she weren’t good at enduring pain, she might have let out a scream.
Chloe, now close, touched Sahara’s tightly cinched waist.
“This is as tight as it’ll go. Let’s leave it here and emphasize the hips and chest.”
“Let me tighten it just a little more. If we reduce it just a bit more, she’ll be able to pull off any dress perfectly. ―My Lady, take a deep breath. Make your chest look bigger. More, more, more!”
The oldest-looking maid among them encouraged Sahara.
“How much more perfect do you want her to look? You’re so greedy.”
“Don’t be jealous. This is her debut. She’s the star, and there’s not much time to prepare her.”
Though they spoke as if they pitied her, their hands tightening Sahara’s waist showed no mercy. Sahara held her breath with all her might. Watching her shrinking waist, Chloe let out a hum and asked.
“By the way, do you even have a dress suitable for the Crown Prince’s residence? Brother, you don’t have a fiancée, so there wouldn’t be anyone to wear dresses there.”
“That place is full of dresses.”
“Inside there? Aren’t those all the ones Mother wore during her time as the Crown Princess? My goodness.”
Are these antiques or what? Chloe lamented as she entered the connected wardrobe to look around. Listening to Chloe’s grumbling from inside, Cheshire glanced at Sahara’s bare feet visible beyond the screen and spoke.
“…Actually, there should be some new dresses somewhere.”
Though there was no one to wear them in the Crown Prince’s residence, it wasn’t as if there were none at all. The Crown Prince’s residence was a place where gifts, samples, and all sorts of items circulating in the capital ended up, so there were bound to be dresses.
“And?”
“I told Wilson to reflect on his actions.”
So, he didn’t know where they were. He hadn’t even known where this dressing room was and had to call a servant to find it.
“How remarkable.”
Chloe peeked her head out and looked at Cheshire.
“In my entire life, I don’t think you’ve ever seemed as pathetic as you do today, Brother.”
Her tone suggested it was quite the event. Though her words were rude, Cheshire somewhat agreed. Today, he was certainly acting strangely in many ways.
“These dresses… they’re well-maintained. They may not be the latest fashion, but most of them are high-quality pieces, and many are works by designers who are still famous today.”
Chloe seemed to be deliberating as she stayed in the wardrobe for quite some time. Sahara, meanwhile, leaned against the screen, panting heavily, indifferent to whatever the two were discussing.
As Chloe’s absence stretched on, Cheshire entered the wardrobe.
In the vast room filled with hundreds of dresses, Chloe wore a deeply serious expression.
“Are there really no suitable dresses?”
Honestly, Cheshire thought all dresses looked the same, but it seemed that, from a woman’s perspective, attire was a significant matter. While he thought Sahara would look beautiful even in rags, they couldn’t afford to treat her debut carelessly, so it required careful consideration.
When he asked if they should call Wilson after all, Chloe replied with a visibly conflicted expression.
“There are a few that catch my eye. There are more decent ones than I expected. Mother really did have good taste in clothes…”
She seemed lost in thoughts of their deceased mother. With time running short and Chloe becoming needlessly sentimental, Cheshire scanned the few dresses she had selected. One dress in particular caught his eye.
“That one would suit Sahara well.”
“…That one?”
“Does it not appeal to women’s tastes?”
At the end of Cheshire’s gaze hung a deep purple dress. It was a dress with delicate yet clean lines. While overall simple and clear in design, it had snowflake-like jewels embroidered along every hem. It seemed like it would complement Sahara’s black hair and expressionless beautiful face perfectly.
At Cheshire’s choice, Chloe looked back and forth between the dress and him.
“No, that dress is beautiful… And the design is timeless.”
“But?”
Why that expression? When he asked, Chloe pressed her lips into a straight line.
§ § § § §
The clock was already approaching 9 o’clock.
“The guest of honor is quite late.”
While it wasn’t unusual for people to arrive late to parties that ran into the night, in Sahara’s case, as the protagonist, many people were waiting for her. Since no one could dance until the main guest appeared and had the first dance, the atmosphere in the Hall of Joy where the party was being held was rather uncomfortable. Naturally, the members of the 128th Knights Brigade, attending such a party for the first time, were huddled against the wall.
Buzz glanced at the empty hall entrance and said.
“Indeed. I wonder how much prettier they’re trying to make her.”
“She’d be the prettiest even if she came barefoot. Should’ve just come as is. If she just showed her face, things would be less noisy.”
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