Whitney furrowed her brow as she looked at the messy room.

“I should have known something was off when they said they’d clean.”

Even the clothes that had been in the relatively tidy room were now dirty. At that moment, Whitney remembered her mother’s dress that she had kept in the closet.

She hurriedly checked inside the closet, but the dress was nowhere to be seen. Her gaze shifted to the clothes strewn across the floor, now reduced to rags.

‘No. Mother’s keepsake…’

Whitney sank to the floor, clutching what could barely be called a dress, now just scraps of fabric. She had forgotten how cruel those two could be.

Relieved to have returned alive, she had let her guard down, forgetting what kind of people they were.

She needed to send the dress to the salon immediately, but all she had were torn and ruined clothes. Whitney wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and gathered the clothes into a pile. Fortunately, it seemed they hadn’t discovered the jewelry she had hidden inside the bed.

Whitney thought that even this would eventually be found by the maids if they searched her room.

‘Don’t cry. Don’t cry.’

Crying wouldn’t change anything. First, she needed to clean the room and organize her thoughts. As she tidied up one thing after another, her mind began to clear.

Whitney wiped away her sweat in the now clean attic room. Then she carefully unfolded the dress that had been reduced to rags.

‘Thankfully, it looks like there are still parts that can be salvaged.’

For the missing parts, she’d have to find a way to raise money somehow. This debutante ball was important to her. It was her only chance to change her reputation and standing.

I’m sending this letter along with the box, as you might be surprised when you open it.

The dress I promised to give you has been ruined.

It’s my fault for not taking proper care of it.

Would it be possible to create something using only the usable fabric?

Please use these jewels to make up for any shortcomings. They should fetch a good price if sold.

Whitney Orlean.

P.S. I won’t forget your help.]

Whitney sent the box with the letter, hoping that the world might be a little more beautiful. Even if he couldn’t do it, she couldn’t blame him.

Fortunately, Monsieur Leverom sent a reply saying he would try to make her dress.

Please don’t worry. Although it’s in pieces, the fabric is still excellent, so trust me.

I will keep these jewels in safekeeping. They will go very well with the dress, so it would be best if you wear them together when the time comes.

You won’t regret choosing me.

Just in case, I’d prefer if you came to pick up the dress in person. I have a feeling that if I send this dress, it might not arrive intact.

I’ll send a letter when it’s finished.

Monsieur Leverom.]

It seemed best to go pick it up in person, as he suggested. Who knows what might happen if they saw the restored dress. Whitney tucked Leverom’s letter under her bed for safekeeping.

“What a relief. I can rest easy now.”

Whitney sighed as she leaned against the bed. She had been given a week’s confinement order. The knight who had humiliated her was nowhere to be seen. Her stepmother cared greatly about appearances. If the Orlean duchy’s prestige fell, it would decrease their value, which wouldn’t be good for either Melissa or her stepmother.

It would also cause problems with fundraising, so Whitney thought they would dismiss the knight who had disgraced the Orlean duchy in front of others. And it turned out just as Whitney had thought.

Her stepmother, who had thrown out her back, threw objects at Whitney in frustration after the doctor told her not to move for a while. As a result, Whitney had a wound on her forehead, but she covered it with her bangs.

Whitney had taught herself about herbs. It was a survival instinct from having so many injuries since childhood. The medicine her stepmother gave as if bestowing charity didn’t work properly. If she hadn’t known about herbs properly, her body would have been covered in scars beyond repair.

Fortunately, this time too, she had well-dried herbs hidden in the attic. She carefully applied them to her forehead and looked in the mirror.

‘A wound like this should heal quickly.’

Now that she had treated her wound, all that was left was to read the books she had moved to her room during her confinement period. There were surprisingly many books about the Orlean duchy, which she had set aside to read when she had time, and now that she was confined, it was a good opportunity for her.

As Whitney slowly turned the pages, she was surprised to see a name written next to her father’s.

Victorian?

“Father had a sister.”

She had thought her father had no siblings since no one had shown up at the funeral.

Lady Rubeness. It was written that she had married Marquis Rubeness, a well-known border marquis, though not a noble of the capital. There were no records after that, so it seemed contact had been cut off.

‘…Maybe I should send a letter, just in case?’

She could start with a greeting asking how they were doing. Perhaps they could become her strong supporters.

The Rubeness family would value trade, so she needed to make an offer they couldn’t refuse. Whitney pondered what they might need.

The Rubeness family had fallen out of the king’s favor and been sent to the border. Their connections and family name were still valuable, but falling out of the king’s favor was a big blow.

‘They’ll need the power to help them enter the capital.’

She could provide that. If things went according to Whitney’s plan, that is.

Whitney read for hours in the same position. Then, feeling the stiffness in her neck, she pressed her hand against her nape and leaned against the wall.

Noticing the shadow of the window stretched on the wall, she blinked blankly.

“Time has passed so quickly.”

Although it took a long time, the harvest was better than expected.

She learned that her father had a sister and that there were quite a few territories included in the duchy. And among them was land granted by the royal family. Land that could not be touched except by the head of the family.

Her stepmother was currently the temporary head of the family, so she had no authority to sell that land.

“Thank goodness. Otherwise, she would have sold it all by now.”

Whitney slowly got up and looked out the window. She liked the attic room rather than disliking it. It was a space her father had created for her because she liked looking at the sky.

It was too small for her now that she had grown, but it was important to her because it held memories.

Creak—

As the window opened, the sound of old wood accompanied the wind that rushed in. The red glow of sunset was slowly spreading across the sky.

“I wonder how His Highness the Prince is doing? I don’t know how to contact him.”

Five months from now. She needed to think of a way to save him before he was falsely accused.

And that opportunity came sooner than expected.

On a day when she was spending time in the attic, unable to go out due to her confinement, there was a commotion outside. Whitney was reading a book when she stared towards the door.

‘Why is it so noisy?’

Perhaps guests had come to the house. Even if guests came to the duchy, it had nothing to do with her. Her job was to stay in the attic as if she didn’t exist.

There was a high probability that it was her mother’s guests, so no one would be looking for Whitney. So she tried to continue what she was doing.

“Change your clothes right now.”

A maid barged in, opening the door abruptly, and threw a dress at her. Whitney narrowed her eyes and stared at the rude Rael.

“Oh, right. I forgot in my hurry.”

She knocked on the door after already having entered. Whitney let out a deep sigh, closed her book, and approached Rael.

“Don’t behave like this anywhere else. People will point fingers, saying you learned nothing despite coming from the Orlean duchy.”

“Ha! I have no intention of leaving the duchy, so you’d better watch yourself, Lady Whitney. Don’t you know everyone’s whispering that you’ll be lucky if you’re not thrown out when you come of age? And that’s not all. There are rumors that they’ll sell you off to another family when you reach marriageable age.”

“…Is that so? Thank you for letting me know. I’d appreciate it if you could tell me why I suddenly need to wear a dress.”

“Guests have arrived.”

“Guests?”

Even if guests had arrived, it shouldn’t have anything to do with Whitney. She was curious about why they were suddenly looking for her, but looking at Rael, it seemed she wouldn’t explain.

Soon after, several maids entered and began to attend to Whitney. Bewildered by the sudden situation, Whitney sat down in a chair with a confused look.

‘Guests important enough to dress me in Melissa’s clothes…’

Whitney was led downstairs by Rael’s hand. Her eyelashes trembled slightly when she saw a familiar figure sitting across from Melissa on the sofa.

‘Why is that person here…?’

The cloaked man raised his head and looked at Whitney. Her heart dropped when their eyes met.

The moment she saw those blue eyes shining serenely even in the darkness, she knew who the man was.

How could she forget those blue eyes, clear as a lake yet with unfathomable depths?

The faint scent of Libenia flowers she had caught on the wind back then hadn’t been her imagination after all.

The man before her was none other than Prince Cheston, whom she had been so eager to meet.