Chapter 42
After returning to the Grand Duke’s estate, Liriope, now back as the Duchess, spent busy days sorting through the pile of invitations that had accumulated.
That day, Theo had stood at her door for a long time, hand on the doorknob, unable to bring himself to open it.
Unaware of the turmoil Theo had gone through outside her closed door, Liriope simply passed her days waiting for him, as she had grown used to his habit of contacting her at least twice a day.
[Should I come pick you up at the estate on the day of the festival?]
“Why would you do that, Lord Theo?”
[Why? Because we should spend it together.]
At that, Liriope’s eyes widened.
Theo had always been assigned by the Emperor to guard the festival streets during the Harvest Festival.
That was because of an anonymous tip claiming that black magic—strictly forbidden in the Empire—would be used to harm people during the celebrations.
In truth, it had been a scheme by the Empress, who despised Theo, to keep him occupied during one of the Empire’s most important holidays.
And it was precisely because of that order that, in the original story, Theo had met Rosaline during the festival.
‘Don’t tell me… the Emperor hasn’t given him the order this time?’
Since the Harvest Festival was approaching, Liriope thought Theo should have already received the command by now. Cautiously, she asked:
“Has there been any message from the Imperial Palace?”
[A message? What kind?]
“Oh, nothing specific, just… anything.”
[No, nothing’s come. Why?]
“It’s nothing. If nothing’s come, then that’s fine.”
Liriope began to wonder if, by subtly changing parts of the story, she had also erased the event where the hero and heroine met.
A glimmer of hope lit within her—perhaps if she herself prevented Theo and Rosaline from meeting, the two would never fall in love.
Feeling oddly encouraged by the thought, she said to Theo,
“Let’s go together on the second day of the festival, not the first.”
[Why not the first?]
‘Because on the first day, you’re supposed to meet Rosaline and fall in love!’
“I already promised to spend the first day with the young ladies. It’s been planned for months now.”
It was a lie, of course. Liriope intended to spend the first day shadowing Rosaline, making sure she stayed as far from Theo as possible.
If she had said she’d be with Rosaline alone, Theo would probably have refused, so she made up a group of noble ladies instead.
Since it was common for the noblewomen of the Empire to gather for tea parties or balls, Theo accepted it easily.
[I see. Then I’ll see you on the second day.]
As expected, Theo yielded without question.
“What will you do on the first day, then?”
She asked, just in case he might still attend the festival without her.
[I’ll be at the Grand Duke’s residence.]
Relieved that he had no plans to go, Liriope smiled brightly.
“Then let’s have fun together on the second day. I’ll scout out the best places for us while I’m out.”
[I’ll look forward to it.]
His warm smile was sweet enough to make her heart flutter.
The dresses they would wear for the Harvest Festival were not identical “friendship dresses” as before. Instead, they decided on individual designs that shared only matching accent details—more complementary than identical.
Liriope had paid the designer, Madame Ferocé, extra to make them that way, largely because she felt guilty toward Rosaline.
She intended to keep Rosaline and Theo apart throughout the festival—fully aware that her interference was unfair to the pair who were supposed to end up together.
Rosaline, unaware of Liriope’s hidden motives, was deeply moved when Liriope asked Ferocé to make a dress that suited her preferences, even shedding tears of gratitude.
Watching her, Liriope felt a pang of guilt but comforted herself: since the Emperor hadn’t given Theo his usual order, the original plot was already off course.
“Oh my, Lady Liriope, you look absolutely stunning,” Rosaline gasped.
Liriope’s pale pink dress, crafted by Ferocé, featured vertical seams instead of a waistline. The fitted bodice and softly flaring skirt made her look even more charming and graceful.
“You’re the goddess here, Rosaline.”
Rosaline’s light golden dress hugged her figure down to the knees before flaring out elegantly, exuding poise and sophistication.
Ferocé had perfectly tailored both dresses to highlight each woman’s strengths, and the matching corsages showcased her brilliance as a designer.
It was clear why the royal family adored her work.
Then, Ferocé presented two ornate boxes.
“These accessories were specially designed to match each of your dresses. I selected the materials myself.”
Inside were pairs of earrings and necklaces that complemented each gown beautifully.
When she’d asked them to visit the atelier in person rather than send the dresses, Liriope hadn’t expected such exquisite craftsmanship.
“They’re gorgeous, Madame Ferocé. I must pay you extra for—”
“Oh, no, my lady. Please, accept them as a gift. It’s an honor to see my work worn by you both.”
Grateful, Liriope thanked her sincerely.
With their jewelry on, Liriope and Rosaline stepped out looking radiant.
People on the street turned their heads to stare at the two women.
“Shall we start with the Street of Plenty?” Liriope suggested, linking arms with Rosaline.
She had deliberately chosen that street instead of the Street of Blessings—the place where, in the original story, Theo and Rosaline first met.
Rosaline, oblivious to her companion’s ulterior motives, blushed and nodded cheerfully.
Feeling a small pang of guilt, Liriope walked with her toward the Street of Plenty.
“Wow, there are so many different foods!”
The Street of Plenty featured delicacies from all over the Gardeya Empire.
Rows of food stalls lined the road, each offering mouthwatering dishes and fresh fruits.
Liriope excitedly sampled the most unusual foods, sniffing and tasting with curiosity.
Just as they were enjoying themselves, an accident occurred—dark sauce splattered across Rosaline’s skirt.
Neither of them was at fault.
Someone had bumped into Rosaline from behind, spilling their food onto her dress.
That someone was Selzionel.
From the lack of genuine apology on Selzionel’s face, it was clear the collision had been deliberate.
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. It’s so crowded,” Selzionel said lightly.
“Oh…”
Flustered, Rosaline began dabbing at the stain with her handkerchief, while Selzionel smirked slightly and turned to greet Liriope.
“Well, fancy meeting you here, Lady Liriope.”
The pleasant tone only made Liriope’s irritation rise.
Regardless of how expensive the dress was, anyone with manners would offer a proper apology. Selzionel clearly wasn’t sorry at all.
“Indeed. Though it seems you’ve just ruined my dress.”
Selzionel’s smile vanished.
“M–my lady’s dress? But I only—spilled on Lady Rosaline’s—”
“Oh, you didn’t know? Madame Ferocé made these as matching friendship dresses. I paid seven times the usual cost, too.”
Selzionel’s face went pale.
“B–but they don’t even look similar…” she stammered.
Liriope let out a soft, mocking laugh.
Selzionel must have thought she could soil Rosaline’s dress without consequence since it didn’t appear to be part of a matching set.
When Liriope had commissioned Ferocé, she’d even requested design security—ensuring the connection between the dresses wasn’t obvious, in case of gossip.
Now it served her perfectly.
Watching Rosaline anxiously trying to clean her dress, Liriope stepped closer to the ashen-faced Selzionel.
“You dare stain what’s mine and think a simple ‘it was an accident’ will suffice, Lady Selzionel?”
Her tone was icy, her expression sharper than ever.
Selzionel panicked.
“It really was an accident! There were so many people—and Lady Rosaline bumped into me first! If she hadn’t—”
“You bumped her from behind. I saw it clearly.”
Liriope’s calm but firm words silenced her.
Selzionel bit her lip, unable to respond.
Liriope glanced at the red slushy in her hand, then at Selzionel’s ivory dress.
“Well, accidents do happen. Anyone can make mistakes, don’t you agree?”
Relieved, Selzionel looked up with a shaky smile—only to shriek the next instant.
“Ahhh!”
Liriope had casually dumped the red slushy all over her.
Smiling sweetly, she said,
“Oh my—an accident.”
