PHATFO 52

~Chapter 52~

So, in the morning—

“Please take good care of me, Viola.”

I held out my hand to Viola, now my exclusive maid.

Maybe the news had hit her like lightning overnight, but she stared blankly at my hand, as if wondering what was going on and why I was doing this.

Not that her careless personality was going to change.

“Yes, yes, honored guest!”

She beamed and shook my hand.

“In that case, could you alter a dress for me? I’m going for a walk with His Highness this afternoon, and I saw something that might be suitable.”

In the Duke’s mansion, the only person who could be called the master was Armin, and there were no female relatives—yet my room was stocked with women’s clothes. Clothes Armin had prepared in advance, expecting I would come.

But since they hadn’t been made to my exact measurements, none of them fit. To be exact, they were too big.

“Understood! Leave it to me!”

Viola took the bait I threw her without hesitation, and—

“Oh no, honored guest! Your dress…!”

Before half a day had passed, she started moving just as I had hoped.

That evening, after work—

Viola was called by Catherine and scolded.

“You careless thing. What were you thinking, saying something like that?”

The reason: she had said something that might offend Bella.

“You have to be careful. She’s the master’s fiancée. Right now she’s staying as a guest, but who knows what could happen in the future?”

“That’s exactly what I was saying! How do we know if she’ll stay here, or if someone else will come?”

“Viola!”

Catherine was the head maid. She trained new maids and even had the authority to fire them.

To avoid being kicked out, you couldn’t make her angry.

“…You saw it too. The honored guest didn’t get angry. So isn’t it fine?”

“You fool…!”

Catherine’s anger only grew.

“Do you think silence means nothing’s wrong? Listen, Viola. Not everyone says their complaints out loud. Especially someone like the honored guest!”

“…”

“Do you think she stayed quiet because she didn’t know what you were thinking? Not at all. She notices everything. Remember this morning? I moved a flowerpot by the window, and she told me to put it back because the leaves wouldn’t get sunlight. And when Marina placed the knives in the wrong order, she said, ‘Once is fine, but if it keeps happening, it’ll be a problem.’ Do you know what that means? She’s watching everything we do.”

“…”

“You might not understand yet. But you’ll learn—she’s a frightening person.”

But by noon, as Bella’s personal maid—

“Frightening? Please.”

Viola scoffed inwardly.

“She thinks my little sob story was real.”

Of course, the fact that she herself had torn Bella’s dress had to stay her secret, so Viola dampened her eyelashes and whimpered.

“I’m so sorry, honored guest. I’m not used to altering dresses… I ruined your fine clothes.”

“It was my fault for asking you to do something you’re not used to. You don’t need to apologize.”

Bella stayed calm, even looking at the ruined dress.

Viola had expected her to cry, complain, and be too upset to go on the date.

“Boring.”

In fact, Catherine’s reaction was more interesting.

She walked quickly to inspect the torn dress and the wardrobe, then clicked her tongue.

“None of these fit you anyway… How about having new ones made?”

Viola hadn’t torn the dress just to tease Bella—

But since the perfect topic had come up, she clasped her hands together and agreed eagerly.

“That’s right. The weather will soon turn chilly, and all these clothes are thin. Why not get autumn dresses made?”

“No, that’s not really—”

Bella looked troubled, but Viola cut her off.

“You’re the honored guest of this mansion. We can’t be lacking in serving someone like you. And I’ve heard your health is delicate. If you wear thin clothes and catch a cold, I’ll be worried… What do you think, Catherine?”

“For once, you’re making sense. New clothes are definitely needed. I’ll report this to the master, so please wait here.”

Catherine turned sharply and left the room.

Bella stared blankly after her, while Viola hid her laughter.

She could already see the future.

“Of course he’ll refuse.”

Even if they had reconciled somewhat, traces of their fight remained. And in that mood, for Bella to ask for clothes—especially autumn clothes in an in-between season—

“He’ll be angry.”

If anything, it sounded like a way of saying she’d ask again in winter.

Though she was now a maid, Viola had been born to a fallen noble family and knew how expensive ladies’ dresses were.

She had begged her father for one, only to be scolded for being foolish.

“The master will be the same.”

She imagined the Duke shouting, throwing his papers, and yelling at Bella—just thinking about it was satisfying.

But instead—

“In two hours, Madame Rubianne will be visiting, so please wait a bit.”

It was Catherine who returned, not the Duke.

And Rubianne? The most famous designer in the capital.

Even with money, it was hard to book her; many young ladies longed for her dresses in vain. And rather than making an appointment, they had called her here?

“Does the master… No, no.”

Viola quickly shook away the thought she didn’t like.

“Maybe the master just doesn’t understand money.”

Men who had only ordered suits before wouldn’t know much about dresses.

And when ordering a dress, you also ordered shoes, gloves, and accessories.

The Duke would regret it—paying the price of dozens of houses for one careless nod.

“He might even ask for a refund.”

But while calling a famous designer showed wealth and influence, canceling an order would be a joke—proof you had tried to show off without the means to follow through.

“Then I’ll surprise the master a bit.”

Madame Rubianne was not just a designer but a seasoned businesswoman.

Whispering at her side to encourage extra spending on a naïve client would be easy enough.

“So who made that piece of cloth?”

The moment I entered the room, Armin—who had been standing still—sat on the sofa and asked.

“Madame Rubianne,” Catherine answered for me, since I was frozen in place.

“The invoice is here.”

Viola, watching his expression, gestured toward the table. But Armin didn’t even glance at it.

To be exact, he didn’t seem able to look away from me—his gaze was burning.

“How is it…?”

I lifted my skirt and spun once.

“I’ve ordered twelve more in a similar style.”

Madame Rubianne was a master of bespoke fashion.

Usually, it would take two weeks to receive her work, but since I had nothing to wear immediately, she gifted me a few ready-made dresses she had prepared in advance.

[A gift for someone I expect to see often.]

I was wearing one of those now.

“You don’t like it?”

After a long silence, Armin nodded.

“To be honest, yes.”

“I knew twelve was too much?”

“It’s too beautiful.”