FDSML CH 19

Posted by bed0zx_, Released on September 9, 2025

Chapter 19

When the social gathering ended and I was waiting for my carriage, Roti Beige approached me.

“L-Lady Ferris.”

“Yes?”

“Please take this.”

She nervously held something out, and before I could think, I accepted it.

“What’s this?”

“Digestive medicine. You seemed like you overdid it earlier… I honestly didn’t think you’d eat all the desserts from that tray.”

So, she had been watching and felt guilty for not stepping in while I was being targeted.

Not that I was forced. I ate because I wanted to.

I tucked the vial into my hand and asked curiously,

“Do you always carry medicine around?”

“I… I need it often.”

No need to ask why. Clearly, she had suffered the same treatment I had.

“I’m really fine. I ate because I truly wanted to. But thank you for your kindness—I’ll keep it.”

“O-oh…”

I slipped the bottle into my bag. Roti fiddled awkwardly with the cracks in the brick wall, clearly also waiting for her family carriage.

I smiled and leaned toward her.

“Since you gave me medicine, let me return the favor with some advice.”

“Eh?”

She jumped, startled. Her pale face looked so nervous I almost felt bad, but I pressed on.

“Next time, you don’t have to finish everything the princess orders you to. If you try too hard, she’ll just enjoy tormenting you more. She’s that type.”

Nanael was cruel precisely because when her victims held out, she doubled and tripled down on the abuse.

“Ah…”

Roti’s face clouded with defeat.

Of course—no one had ever said it to her so plainly before.

In the original story, she had always been the pitiful victim of Nanael. But the Beige family wasn’t some powerless house. It was just that Nanael dismissed any family below a marquis as her “followers.”

That arrogance would one day come back to bite her hard.

Because in the future, Roti’s mother—Countess Beige—would open a dress boutique in the capital under her designer alias. And her bold, original designs would soon sweep through society like wildfire.

It would become impossible for any lady of fashion not to wear her dresses.

When it was revealed that Roti Beige was the designer’s only daughter, even Nanael’s sycophants would rush to curry favor with her.

And Roti herself was talented—she inherited her mother’s eye for fashion. Unlike Nanael, who caused nothing but trouble, Roti had real gifts.

Later, she would begin apprenticing under her mother and create custom gowns for Summer Clopfen, the heroine. Their bond would deepen, forged by their shared suffering under Nanael.

Just as Cinderella had her fairy godmother, Summer had Roti Beige—the one who made her shine as the most beautiful woman in every event of the season.

And when Countess Beige discovered her daughter had been bullied, she boldly declared she would never sell dresses to Nanael again, no matter her status.

Of course, Nanael publicly scoffed, saying she wouldn’t wear them anyway—but in secret, she tried to steal the boutique’s designs and was caught red-handed, humiliated before everyone.

Remembering that scene from the novel brought a secret smile to my lips.

I told Roti gently, “It’s better to take a few bites and pretend you’re sick. Don’t just swallow it down with medicine. And honestly… you can tell your parents. That’s what they’re there for.”

“I don’t want to make them worry. Lady Ferris, you must think I’m foolish…”

I waved my hands. “Not at all! I think you’re too good and earnest, if anything. Most people trouble their parents over trivial things. I’m just saying—don’t be afraid to lean on your family’s status when you need to. If you let Her Highness see you as weak, she’ll make your whole season miserable.”

I leaned closer and whispered the truth I’d wanted to say most.

“People like the princess, who treat others like dolls… they usually do it out of jealousy. She hates people who have virtues she doesn’t. You just got unlucky enough to step in her path.”

Roti’s eyes went wide as saucers.

Well, yes—I had just compared the Third Princess of the Empire to a pile of dung.

Seeing her glance around frantically, I reassured her,

“Don’t worry. If you don’t repeat it, no one will ever know I said that.”

“I’ll never tell anyone!”

“Honestly, it’s fine even if you do. If you ever feel like venting about the princess, just use my name as your excuse.”

Unlike poor Roti, I had the protection of House Ferris at my back.

Her cheeks turned rosy as she realized my intent.

After a long pause, she stammered like someone about to confess a crush.

“C-could I… sometimes write you letters?”

“Letters? Of course—and it’s not like we won’t see each other. We’ll keep running into each other at events this season. We can chat then too.”

“But… no one else wants to associate with me…”

That was only because they were scared of Nanael.

I didn’t say it, since it wouldn’t comfort her now, but instead I placed my hands firmly on her shoulders.

“Surely you’re not lumping me in with those shallow girls at the table earlier, are you?”

“…Eh?”

She tilted her head, not quite following.

I grinned, confident and steady.

“I don’t bow to the princess. You don’t need to worry with me.”

“…Y-yes!”

Her face flushed, and she nodded enthusiastically.

At only twenty, it was no wonder she struggled in a society already hostile to her.

“I’ll head off first,” she said, bobbing a little curtsy before leaving.

As she walked away, my own carriage finally pulled up—its door marked with the Ferris crest.

But when it opened, it wasn’t Adrian waiting inside.

“…Ren oppa?”

Alperen sat there, calm as ever.

“Hello, Deli. Did you enjoy the gathering?”

I automatically took his hand and stepped in. His escort was so natural, so smooth, I didn’t even think about it until I was already seated.

Blinking, I glanced around.

“Where’s Adrian?”

“He fell into the river during rowing practice.”

“Oh dear. I suppose he got overexcited again.”

I clicked my tongue knowingly. That was so like him—always rushing ahead despite warnings.

“So what, you came instead? Really, you didn’t need to. I can return home on my own.”

“I couldn’t let that happen.”

“…Thanks. My brother really knows how to pick his friends.”

“No,” Alperen said softly. “I came because it was you.”

“…You’re too kind.”

Our eyes met, and we both smiled.

I noticed then—he was dressed more casually than usual. Just a simple shirt, sleeves rolled up, still a little tousled from rowing. Somehow… that look suited him far too well.

I found myself murmuring without thinking,

“Wow… you should thank your parents.”

“For what?”

He looked at me, genuinely puzzled.

I couldn’t help raising my voice a little.

“For giving you that face! How can you look more striking in plain clothes than people who spend hours dressing up?”

What I didn’t say aloud: If you ever truly dressed to impress, no one could look you in the eye.

He gave a faint smile and shook his head.

“You only think that because you see me kindly, Deli.”

The sincerity in his voice nearly made my heart skip.

Oppa… that exact obliviousness is the most dangerous thing about you.

The most dangerous men are the ones who are handsome and don’t even realize it.