A splendid bouquet of red roses was delivered to the Cardinal de Mare’s mansion, along with a dress.

The dress was sent from the Collezioni costume room, unfinished and ready to be tailored. It had a note attached saying it should be tailored to fit the recipient.

Upon finding the hundred red roses, Isabella assumed naturally that the gift was for her. She often received gifts from anonymous gentlemen and those who revealed their identities.

It was a day like any other and the gifts that arrived at the Cardinal de Mare’s mansion were always for Isabella, so it was a reasonable assumption.

Isabella, fluttering her fan in her hand, looked at the roses.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful! How elegant the taste is! Which gentleman sent this?”

Isabella asked as if it was a given, to which the mailman, feeling a sense of foreboding, carefully replied.

“The gift was sent by Count Cesare de Como.”

Isabella’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Count Cesare? Oh, why would he send me a gift? We have no connection.”

“That’s…”

“Put the roses in my room. I have to try the dress on now. Can you book a fitting date with Collezioni?”

Isabella, in a good mood, gave orders to her servants in the form of requests, a rare occurrence. But her good mood shattered instantly when the mailman closed his eyes and exclaimed.

“Pardon me, eldest miss. This gift is for the second miss.”

“What?!”

Crack!

Isabella broke the fan in her hand.

But the real owner of the rose gift, which had shattered Isabella’s cheerful morning, did not feel happy at all upon receiving it.

“He sent this to me?”

“Yes, second miss.”

It was the mailman who had just barely escaped Isabella’s fury and safely delivered the mail to Ariadne. Despite his efforts, however, the harddelivered gift did not bring joy to Ariadne at all.

“Red roses, for Ariadne, right?”

“Yes, second miss. There’s a letter from the sender here.”

It was a letter from the house of Count Cesare, decorated with silver foil. A note written in very neat handwriting emerged from the envelope sealed with red wax.

“From your debutante partner.

It was an honor to dance your first waltz in your lifetime with you. Enclosed is something that suits a beauty who resembles a red rose.

Count Cesare.”

A hollow laugh escaped her.

“The snowdrop flower resembles you. Submissive and only known to me, just like you.”

That was what Cesare had said when he picked a snowdrop flower in the forest outskirts of San Carlo and put it in her ear.

A small, white flower. A bowing flower. A flower picked for free, blooming in the field.

Just yesterday, he treated people so badly, but now that the circumstances have changed a bit, is the treatment so different? Ariadne was angry. She was angry at this life’s Cesare, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t done anything yet.

The red roses were topgrade products lovingly nurtured in a garden. He had gathered a hundred of them to make a bouquet so heavy that it was difficult for a woman to carry alone. A bouquet worth at least 50 Florins (approximately 500,000 Won).

‘If you cared half as much in my previous life, I would have served you for a lifetime.’

It was somewhat unfair to blame Cesare for investing too little. In her previous life, Cesare had only given her wild snowdrops, but Ariadne had faithfully served Cesare to the end.

Investment perfectly matched in value, she muttered, looking at another gift sent by Count Cesare.

“What is this?”

“It’s a dress. I heard it was sent from the Collezioni costume room.”

The mailman lifted the cloth covering the mannequin wearing the dress. A party dress made of crimson silk like blood revealed its appearance.

Indeed, the work of the Collezioni dressing room lived up to its reputation, with every single stitch meticulously done. The lace on the dress had been carefully arranged to reveal each pattern to its best advantage whenever she moved. It was a masterpiece of delicate and thorough workmanship.

The bodice of the scarlet silk dress was made in three layers.

The outermost layer was a thick layer of silk, then inside it was a layer of thin silk folded to resemble the bud of a tulip, and then within it was a layer of semitransparent organza arranged to cover the skin.

With this design, even if the stitching of the dress were to burst, the other two layers would provide cover. It was a design that had been thoughtfully planned to prevent any sort of wardrobe malfunction, such as an accidental reveal of the chest.

“She did put a lot of thought into this.”

However, that was one thing, and this was another.

“Send it back.”

“Excuse me?”

The postal servant stared blankly at Ariadne. But Ariadne was firm.

“He and I have no relationship. I can’t accept something so expensive. Besides, I have a contract with the Ragione tailor shop and for a while, I won’t be able to wear dresses made elsewhere. Explain this to Count Cesare, and return the flowers and the dress.”

“But, Miss! The roses are fresh, they will wither if we return them.”

The servant hastily added.