Episode 22. A Man Hard to Understand2023.10.22.Among the maids meticulously examining the design book as if it would wear out, Monica was particularly enthusiastic in recommending various things to Yuan.

“Madam, your arms and legs are slender, but with some fullness in your chest and hips, wearing something too loose might make you look heavier than you are. Since you have black hair, any color would suit you, but bright colors like pink or yellow would highlight your figure without looking excessive!”

Monica, who got along splendidly with the dressmaker Michelle, practically made decisions for Yuan before she could even say whether she liked or disliked something.

In truth, this was more convenient for Yuan.

Though she didn’t dislike dressing up in pretty clothes and shoes, having lived her teenage years indifferent to such things, she could recognize beauty but was clumsy at choosing.

Monica, a refined-looking maid in her late twenties, boasted that she had once been in charge of dressing the young ladies of a wealthy noble family when she was younger.

Her stubbornness was as unyielding as an ox; when Yuan subtly hinted that something might be too much, Monica would explain in great detail why it wasn’t excessive and why it had to be worn, earning applause from the other maids and surrender from Yuan.

The butler, watching from a distance, also judged that if they only followed Yuan’s wishes, inviting outsiders to the mansion would have been pointless.

In the end, through the collaboration of Michelle, the dressmaker eager to make a big sale, and Monica, who wanted to take charge of dressing the madam instead of laundry, Yuan ended up ordering over thirty outfits.

“Th-thirty outfits…”

“Madam, since they’re winter clothes, we’ve ordered thick shawls, leather gloves lined with wool, and the earmuffs and fur cloak you often use, made with angora fur. All those little things are included, so it’s not really thirty outfits!”

“Indeed, Madam. The mistress of Marquis Rev’s household, whom I serve, orders even more every year. Since you’re not ordering extravagant ball gowns, we’ve put together far more practical and lightweight dresses.”

In the end, the dull dark green dress Yuan always wore was swiftly stripped off by Monica’s hands.

Even as she undressed, Yuan stubbornly insisted on keeping the dress, which Louise had mended several times, refusing to discard it.

But when Michelle, the dressmaker, promised to return it neatly repaired along with the new clothes, Yuan handed it over.

Wearing a pale purple dress that Michelle had brought as a sample and altered on the spot, Yuan stood awkwardly, watching her beloved green dress being ruthlessly packed into Michelle’s clothing box.

“Will it be alright, Butler?”

Seeing off Michelle, who was excitedly swaying her hips as she boarded the carriage, Yuan asked with concern.

The butler, Gustav, who had been marveling at how extraordinary Madam’s beauty was, responded with a puzzled expression.

“What do you mean, Madam?”

“There are no parties or guests to entertain here. And yet, I’ve ordered thirty outfits.”

Seeing her worried face, like a child who had done something wrong, the butler comforted her.

“Madam, this place may be quite poor, but doesn’t the master of the house always wear the same robe?”

Yuan thought of Clade, always in the same attire, and rolled her eyes.

The butler reassured her again.

“So, Madam having a few more ‘normal’ clothes won’t cause any trouble. His Highness has permitted it, after all.”

Yuan, whose worries had clouded her face, relaxed at Gustav’s half-joking words and let a faint smile appear.

The mistress’s bedroom, the newly colorful clothes—everything was like that.

Though it wasn’t his money being spent, Butler Gustav felt a sense of pride watching Yuan quietly rejoice each time.

Count Pelliese’s round shadow paced in front of the First Prince’s palace.

He had requested an audience in advance, but knowing how unpredictable this fickle prince could be, he had entered the palace as soon as its gates opened.

As expected.

The First Prince Bollonico, dressed in an immaculate white uniform, was stepping out of the palace with what looked like at least fifty attendants.

His neatly cropped golden hair sparkled like scattered gold dust with every movement.

His slightly sharp, proud nose tilted upward before turning toward Count Pelliese.

The plump flesh under his eyes curved mischievously.

“Oh, who do we have here?”

“May endless glory be to the great Euphris! Your Highness, the First Prince!”

“So noisy in the morning, Fat Count.”

That insolent little brat!

Count Pelliese gritted his teeth and bowed even lower.

Though he had been overly formal first, he didn’t deserve such an insult.

The First Prince Bollonico always resorted to childish personal attacks when someone displeased him. He only called Count Pelliese by his proper title when he was in a good mood.

Despite pretending otherwise, Bollonico, in the late stages of prince syndrome and craving attention, needed such ridiculous theatrics.

Count Pelliese, as if he hadn’t heard the “Fat Count” remark, bent his waist in half.

“Please, protect my nephew from the terrifying Deposed Prince, Your Highness!”

“Bollonico, I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

“His Highness, the Deposed Prince Clade Euphris, has taken two of my precious nephews! Without a wedding! I’ve never heard of such a marriage!”

Though it was Marquis Companni who took them under imperial orders, the Count played to Bollonico’s tastes.

“A wedding? For a mere figurehead prince listed only in the imperial genealogy, a wedding is far too generous. Finding him a bride was already a waste of effort, wasn’t it?”

Bollonico asked Marquis Companni, standing behind him.

Marquis Companni, who had already grimaced upon seeing Count Pelliese’s shadow, nodded silently and stepped to Bollonico’s side.

“Even if there were a wedding, if Count Pelliese had any shame, he wouldn’t dare show his face at it!”

“Bollonico, same thought.”

The First Prince Bollonico haughtily lifted his chin.

“You mentioned two nephews, but I’ve graciously forgiven that sin with the next bride. Bollonico, so merciful, right?”

“Indeed. To dare obscure Your Highness’s sight, it’s a miracle their heads are still attached.”

“Since you’ve come all the way to Cielo, shall I share some news you might like, Fat Count?”

Count Pelliese, still half-bent, cautiously raised his head. The short-haired prince grinned.

“Even without a wedding, there’ll be a chance to see your nephew at that infamous black mansion.”

“Really, Your Highness?”

“My beautiful yet grotesque cousin seems to have finally met his match. I told him to prove his wedding night, and he replied right away.”

“What?”

“Bollonico, so thrilled. My brother finally meeting his match! What a beautiful pair they must be. Bollonico loves beautiful things, right?”

“The finest aesthetic sense in Euphris.”

While Count Pelliese was reeling from the mention of a wedding night proof, Companni attentively catered to Bollonico.

Normally, the Count would have thought them a perfect pair of cockroaches, but now his mind was consumed with “Deposed Prince found his match. Wedding night proof.”

“Anyway, something fun will happen soon, so wait, traitor Fat Count.”

“Wait, Your Highness! Your Highness! I’m not a traitor! Two of my nephews…”

“Bollonico will let Fat Count join the fun. Whether you’re a useful vassal or not, we’ll see then. Bollonico is merciful, right?”

“I only hope that shameless fool knows how to be grateful.”

“Bollonico, same thought.”

Prince Bollonico, stroking the rapier hilt at his side, turned his head haughtily, heedless of how pale Count Pelliese’s face had become.

The attendants, giggling like spectators, passed by the “Fat Count” one by one.

Normally, Count Pelliese would have dwelled on the humiliation, but now he couldn’t move.

“Wedding… night… proof?”

Early in the morning, new clothes arrived from the dressmaker Michelle.

Since thirty outfits had been ordered, not all had arrived.

A fur cloak covering the hips, tightly woven with purple thread symbolizing the imperial family and edged with angora fur, along with a white angora fur scarf and earmuffs, arrived in a box.

What delighted Yuan the most was the neatly repaired dark green dress.

The traces of Louise’s mending weren’t removed but were cleanly covered with matching fabric.

At a glance, it looked like a new dress.

Yuan, wearing the repaired dress, fur cloak, and earmuffs, left her bedroom.

Passing by Clade’s room, she walked slowly, making some noise, but he didn’t call for her.

It had been two days already.

A man hard to understand.

Yuan felt anxious wondering why he wasn’t seeking her out, yet as peaceful days passed, she felt guilty toward Louise.

It felt like she was the only one at ease.

If only she could get closer to Clade and bring up Louise somehow.

Yuan considered ignoring whether he called for her or not but ended up pacing in the garden where he could see her.

She lacked the courage to barge into his bedroom, hoping he’d notice her in the garden.

Part of her wanted to throw a small stone to call him out.

‘Is he watching me?’

She wanted to look up at his window.

But remembering how the curtains always snapped shut whenever she looked at his window, Yuan’s gaze never turned that way.

It would mean being cut off before even starting a conversation.

After pacing, wondering if he’d pick a fight, Yuan finally turned sharply toward Clade’s window as the sunset began.

Surprisingly, the curtains weren’t drawn.

Clade wasn’t watching her.

Feeling a bit embarrassed but relieved, Yuan started hopping in place to peek into his room.

She thought making a fuss might prompt him to open the window.

Though the second floor of this grand mansion was quite high, making it hard to see inside, she hoped to catch a glimpse of his hair if he was nearby.

After hopping for a while,

out of breath and bending over, panting heavily, a slow creaking sound came from above.