KBRV 61

Chapter 61

Thanks to that, Odette managed to lower Karl’s hostility toward her by another thirty points or so.

And more importantly—she could finally wear a dress of her own taste to the ball.

At that moment, Odette stood inside a small toilette room on the second floor, dressed in a gown that Lize had made for her.

“Miss, are you really sure about this dress? If we think back to last year’s social season… my goodness. Every single gown was so gaudy and dazzling it hurt the eyes!”

“Lize.”

“To show up among them in something this plain—your confidence will be crushed. Maybe it’s not too late to reconsider—”

“Trends change. Haven’t extravagant gowns already dominated fashion for decades? And they’re not even truly elegant anymore—they’re just loud. Everyone must be sick of them by now. Don’t you think it’s about time a style like this came into vogue?”

“But still…”

Lize’s voice wavered with unease.

Of course she was anxious. She didn’t know the future, nor had she ever played Dangunwon.

How could she possibly imagine that just five months later, when Charlotte made her debut, the simple peasant-style dundle would sweep high society and dictate fashion trends?

“Lize, you always said you didn’t care for the lace monstrosities I used to wear, didn’t you?”

“They were hideous! Remember how ridiculous Young Master Fernand’s requests on the dress order sheets were? Dresses that made you look eternally girlish, harmless, yet still lavish. I bet the designers all clutched their necks in despair. What kind of nonsense is that supposed to be?”

Lize spoke with biting sarcasm.

“What could possibly be more harmful to a girl than being forced to remain forever immature, yet he prattled on about harmlessness? Immaturity is beautiful precisely because it comes before maturity—because growth exists, immaturity can shine. Why would anyone demand lavish beauty from a girl stripped of her right to grow? What do pampered noblemen, who’ve never lived a girl’s life, know about it anyway?”

Her words tumbled out in a rush, fired by righteous anger. Truly the daughter of Madame Sara—Odette thought, recalling a similar tirade from Sara about aesthetics, and shivered slightly.

Well, no wonder those absurd demands produced such outlandish dresses.

The problem was that “Odette” had worn them. And because she was the first Purifier, cloaked in mystery, young ladies imitated her flamboyant gowns and created a minor trend.

None of it was her will, yet the dresses were christened “Odette-style.”

I hated it. Even back then, timid as I was, I hated having my name tied to those dresses.

“Anyway, don’t you think this dress is prettier?”

“It’s just too plain, that’s all. On its own, it looks complete, but next to all the glittering gowns, it will seem insignificant…”

Odette only smiled at Lize’s fretting.

Charlotte’s simple dress didn’t catch on just because she was special.

High society had long since grown weary of bustles, corsets, crinolines—the exaggerated beauty they created.

It had been nearly sixty years of ostentatious fashion. Variations had been exhausted, and in the last three years, the “Odette-style” had pushed gaudiness to its unbearable peak.

Odette was certain. This new dress would work.

And even if it doesn’t, I must claim simplicity first.

This was her way of stealing Charlotte’s future Fame in advance.

Charlotte, as the true Purifier, had stepped into society wearing a plain dundle. It was instantly dubbed “Charlotte-style.”

A deliberate contrast—the gaudy excess of Odette-style versus the plain sincerity of Charlotte-style.

Every article pitted their dresses against each other.

Even those unfamiliar with Charlotte, so long as they disliked Odette, naturally rooted for her.

And so, despite the disadvantage of her common birth, Charlotte’s Fame skyrocketed to 100 in an instant.

High society would never crown someone just for being the “real Purifier.” But Charlotte had inherited that title effortlessly—because nobility delighted in Odette’s downfall, and cheered Charlotte on as the beneficiary.

That pointless rivalry meant that every time Charlotte was praised in the game, my name was dragged into it endlessly.

Odette longed for the day, after her revenge was complete, when she would fade from the stage entirely—as if she had never existed. Only then could she truly live her own life.

Charlotte doesn’t even care for Fame. She’ll be fine with this.

Ah… I hate the spotlight so much…

In the game, whenever a player chose options that raised Fame, Charlotte would cry. She dreaded attention that much. Which was why this path benefitted them both.

“No matter how I look at it, isn’t this just too plain? To untrained eyes, it might even resemble some rural provincial fashion.”

“If you set aside all current trends, how does the gown stand on craftsmanship alone?”

“In terms of craftsmanship? It’s flawless. The headband, accessories, waist ribbon… how many dresses have we test-fitted? And this is the best of them. My mother said the same as I did.”

“Then don’t worry. You and Madame Sara are the most discerning, the most talented in the Empire. If this isn’t the right answer, what could be?”

Odette declared with confidence, rising to her feet.

“…”

In fact, Madame Sara was the greatest designer in the Empire—even in Dangunwon—and Lize, her daughter, would have rivaled her had she lived longer.

Wait, why isn’t she answering?

Odette turned to look at her.

“…Miss, that’s unfair. Working me this hard, and then moving me to tears.”

Lize grumbled, her eyes slightly red.

Odette laughed.

At first glance, her gown resembled Charlotte’s. But unlike Charlotte’s rustic dress—an authentic simplicity—Odette’s was crafted. Lize, with her genius, had designed this simplicity.

Not natural purity, but an artificial purity forged through persistence. Money, talent, and time distilled into the purest essence.

Every material, every detail has been considered. I changed the fabric multiple times until this became the best possible creation.

And Odette understood nobles better than Charlotte ever could.

She knew instinctively that a carefully staged simplicity would captivate them even more than genuine purity. Staged simplicity was rarer—and thus more precious.

This time, Odette planned to redefine “Odette-style.” Anything that bore her name must carry her own aesthetics.

Well… it also serves another purpose.

Johann’s capture key was simplicity, plainness.

Odette remembered how quickly his affection soared—and his hostility plummeted—when Charlotte had worn her dundle.

“Let’s try these shoes next.”

“Oh, Mother already picked the prettiest pair for you.”

But the moment Odette slid her foot into the white shoes, her brows furrowed.

“What is it? You don’t like the design?”

Lize tilted her head—then went pale as Odette pulled her foot back.

Her foot was covered in blood.

Inside the shoe were several sharp tacks, deliberately placed to pierce her skin.