Because a man could not linger in a maiden’s room for too long, as soon as Ariadne calmed down, Alfonso quickly left her room unnoticed.

He did so in case someone saw them, to make it seem like he was just escorting her.

Previously, Alfonso had never deeply thought about why men were not allowed in a lady’s room, but now he seemed to understand.

Her living space, personal items, and the distinctively different scent from a man’s room, somewhat like the scent of flowers, somewhat like the scent of powder, filled Ariadne’s room. And the defenseless Ariadne in that room.

The scene kept replaying in his mind. Without doubt, if society allowed men to carelessly enter a maiden’s room, many unfortunate events would occur.

Alfonso shook his head and clenched his fists trying to dismiss the thought.

“I am a gentleman. I shouldn’t do this. Even imagining such a thing is a disgrace to the pure lady.”

Alfonso cooled his head in the hallway for a moment, thinking that he had calmed himself down somewhat.

“I can control myself.”

He was a devoted knight who had received the highest education, and he had been praised as the most outstanding young ruler. Restraint and patience were what he had learned all his life. It wasn’t difficult. He believed so.

However, Alfonso did not realize that he had gripped his hand so hard that he had left marks from his nails on his palm.

“If you gain something, you lose something.”

Isabella was truly experiencing this proverb today. It was good that she had tampered with Ariadne’s debutante dress.

She had swapped out the heavy metal hooks with a lighter one, filled with lead, using Ariadne’s new maid whom she had forgotten the name of, so that the dress would be torn apart. It was also good that she had ordered Maléta to secretly tear the seam of the dress.

But she never imagined that what would pop out from there would not be a ‘breast pocket’ and shabby cotton, but her actual breasts.

“Is she an idiot? Why would she walk around revealing that, let alone covering it?!”

The firm and resilient breasts standing tall like summer peaches were something Isabella had always dreamed of.

Isabella would have done anything to have those breasts. But to see them wrapped up like that!

As a result, the image Isabella had imagined, with the ‘breast pocket’ being revealed and two cotton pads falling under the corset, did not appear. But clever Isabella knew how to create a scene with what she was given.

“Didn’t she tear it on purpose to show off her breasts?”

It was a sharp comment Isabella threw like a dagger when the ladies gathered in threes and fives to discuss the ‘wardrobe malfunction’ that had just happened.

“My sister has always had excessive pride in her figure. I knew she was the type to do anything to attract attention, but…”

The possibility was something the ladies and girls had never imagined. They suddenly started a heated discussion in hushed voices as if it could be true.

The atmosphere among the ladies was more of ‘No way’, but the young girls who were friends with Isabella mostly agreed with her.

“If she shows her breasts pretending it’s a mistake, everyone will definitely remember.”

“Honestly, isn’t this ball too much for her? Who does she think she is, hosting a solo debutante ball? Anyone would think she’s royalty.”

“How did she manage to get the prince as a partner? Does anyone know?”

However, Isabella and her friends’ conversation was less about Ariadne’s behavior itself, and more about how a daughter of a maid who grew up in the countryside dared to receive more luxurious treatment than them.

They resented her, and having already concluded that what happened to Ariadne was not an unfortunate accident but intentional behavior, they poured out criticism.

“Is she pretty?”

“No, honestly, I don’t know.”

“Her figure is good.”

At someone’s thoughtless praise for Ariadne, Lady Leonetti sharply retorted.

“If you bare your breasts, anyone would hear that their figure is good. Honestly, isn’t Camellia better than the Mare girl?”

The Baroness of Camellia de Castilione beamed with humility as she spoke.

“No, no. And isn’t the figure something men only look at when they have bad thoughts? If you look at everything including the face, Isabella is the prettiest.”

The girls set their internal hierarchy while bickering among themselves. The objective lineup of their looks played a part, but largely it reflected their standings among the girls.

If they were close, they complimented each other, exaggerating their beauty, and if the girl was of no connection, she didn’t even make it to the lineup.

A man’s voice, sounding quite angry, interrupted the conversation among Isabella and her friends who were gossiping, gathered around a single table.

“Aren’t you ashamed?”

It was Prince Alfonso, his face flushed with anger. It was a gentleman’s manner to pretend not to hear the intimate conversation of the ladies, but he couldn’t stand by hearing Ariadne’s story being maliciously twisted and stepped forward.