“Miss de Mare! You’re here early.”

Ottavio de Contarini, who had entered first, welcomed Isabella with delight. His response was quicker than even Isabella’s friend Camelia, no, even faster than the hostess of today’s party, Letizia de Leonati.

Isabella received Ottavio de Contarini’s greeting with a bright smile on her pretty face.

“Isabella. Just call me Isabella. Why use family names between us?”

“Is that so, beautiful Isabella?”

Seeing her fiancé and Isabella acting intimate, Camelia de Castiglione tightly gripped the fan in her hand, but there was no one to help her.

“Oh my, Isabella!”

“Letizia.”

Even Letizia de Leonati, the young lady of the house, welcomed Isabella very enthusiastically.

Isabella greeted her close friends with a beaming smile.

‘Did you see that, Julia de Baldesar? No matter how high and mighty you are as a marquis’ daughter, people like me more.’

Julia de Baldesar herself didn’t seem particularly impressed by Isabella’s charisma show.

She also saw Camelia trembling as her fiancé’s attention was stolen by Isabella, but she paid little heed and handed her shawl to a handsome il domestico.

Despite her father’s high title, as a court noble without a regional base, he had to maintain a good relationship with the cardinal in the capital.

The foolish scene Isabella was making was obvious, but Julia had no intention of getting involved, let alone helping Camelia who was the same type as Isabella.

As Julia de Baldesar was boredly scanning the guest list, her gaze fell on the il domestico again.

‘He really is handsome.’

He was an exceptionally handsome attendant, too good-looking to be hired by a mere count’s house.

‘With looks that wouldn’t be out of place even in the royal palace, why is he working in a place like this?’

Julia de Baldesar vowed to ask Letizia de Leonati about that il domestico’s background later.

The opportunity came much sooner than expected.

“This is the new il domestico who started working at our house recently.”

The young lady of the Leonati family pointed at the handsome male attendant with her chin.

Even if he was just an attendant, one would expect her to at least call him by name, but seeing her only point with her chin showed the Leonati family didn’t have an atmosphere of treating their employees humanely.

“He’s originally from the Kingdom of Gallico, but had to hastily immigrate to Etruscan.”

Ottavio pretended to frown.

“After the previous King of Gallico passed away two years ago, many people in the Kingdom of Gallico were exiled for treason.”

Ottavio looked at the extremely handsome il domestico with an unfavorable gaze.

“Could it be that he’s also part of the rebels and fled to the Kingdom of Etruscan?”

“Oh my, then is a noble working as an il domestico at Letizia’s house?”

Isabella laughed.

“Being served by a noble makes me feel like royalty!”

Ottavio meant to imply that the attendant could be one of the rebels and should be kept at a distance and expelled, but Isabella had no interest whatsoever in the ‘important political implications’ or ‘rebel faction’ Ottavio was talking about.

Her whole attention was focused solely on the possibility that the handsome il domestico could even be a noble.

The superficial young lady Leonati was the same.

“If that il domestico is a noble, it would explain a lot. Despite being from Gallico, he speaks both Etruscan and Latin. He’s skilled in etiquette and well-versed in poetry. For an attendant, he’s handsome, smart and refined – I like that.”

Unable to contain her curiosity, Julia asked the young lady Leonati.

“What’s his name?”

“…It’s François.”

“For a commoner, that’s an annoyingly refined name.”

Ottavio, unable to hide his displeasure, interjected. Isabella smiled prettily, her eyes crinkling, and scratched Ottavio’s ego.

“For a commoner, he’s also excessively good-looking, like a courtesan-”

Isabella turned to look at Camelia sitting next to her and scanned her up and down.

“Our Camelia is wearing a pretty dress I haven’t seen before. Did you get all dressed up after getting a tip from Letizia about the handsome il domestico?”

Surprised, Camelia de Castiglione waved her hands in denial.

“No, not at all. I really didn’t know the Leonati family had such a handsome il domestico.”

“Oh my. So Camelia also thinks that il domestico is handsome?”

Isabella’s pressuring skills were extraordinary. The young lady Leonati perfectly assisted Isabella as if on cue.

“What are you saying, Camelia? Didn’t I mention in my last letter that we got an extremely handsome new il domestico, so you should visit and see him next time?”

At the young lady Leonati’s words, the young ladies and gentlemen present noisily teased Camelia.

“Are you lying because you’re embarrassed?”

“Miss Castiglione, you shouldn’t do that with your fiancé right there!”

Camelia’s face turned bright red, and the young people teased her again for being shy, while the face of her fiancé Ottavio alternated between red and blue.

He wasn’t angry that his fiancée was being teased by the group, but angry at the thought of his fiancée looking at another man in front of him.

Smiling like cotton candy, Isabella lightly stroked Ottavio’s cheek with her snow-white hand, as if it were a feather.

“Look how flushed your face is.”

Isabella gazed into Ottavio’s eyes, her violet eyes taking on a pitiful light.

“Manly Ottavio, don’t mind an attendant like that. Camelia is so fortunate to have a fiancé like you.”

Camelia, who was left sitting there with a bloody nose, was abundantly cursed without having done anything, and had the pleasure of witnessing Isabella sweet-talking her own fiancé with her own two eyes.

But there was nowhere she could appeal her grievances. Most of the young ladies seated here were very close with Isabella, and the young gentlemen, whether close or not, were unconditionally on Isabella’s side.

Camelia could only furiously fan herself with her poor fan. Sitting next to her, Isabella informed the surrounding young ladies and gentlemen that there would soon be a ball at her house.

“This time, His Eminence Cardinal de Mare has decided to hold a separate debutante ball for my younger sister Ariadne at our house.”

At Isabella’s declaration, the next generation of San Carlo’s social circle began to buzz.

“A debutante ball at your house? The cardinal must hold his second daughter in very high regard.”

Hearing that question, Isabella felt like her guts were twisting, but she couldn’t make a scene in front of others. She managed her expression well and smiled prettily.

“Of course. Didn’t our Ariadne make a big contribution this time and receive recognition and favors from Their Majesties the King and Queen? We have to support her accordingly as a family.”

Isabella took a deep breath, convincing herself that having one more successful child in the family wasn’t bad for her either.

She was determined to reap every possible benefit from this situation. Only then would her stomach ache subside a little.

“It’s a rare occasion for a party to be held at our house, right?”

The host of a party tended to receive special treatment.

“I’ll get permission from Mother to set aside a separate reception room as a powder room. Let’s chat there amongst ourselves.”

The young ladies were delighted.

“I really hate mingling with riffraff at balls.”

“It would be so nice if we could have an intimate gathering with just us!”

“As expected of Isabella. You have skill.”

Isabella sent a sweet gaze not only to the young ladies but also to the young gentlemen.

“You all must attend, alright? You must.”

She needed an audience to admire her dress made with ample amounts of expensive fabric from the Moorish Empire – no, to be precise, to admire Isabella who was incomparably more beautiful than her dull and gloomy younger sister.

And if those young gentlemen attended, the likelihood of Count Cesare attending would also increase.

She wanted the attention of the haughtiest man in San Carlo. All the good things in the world had to be hers. Life had mostly worked out that way so far. It would undoubtedly continue to do so in the future.

While Isabella was showing off in front of her friends and racking her brain on how to outshine her sister, the actual protagonist of the ball had little concern for her appearance.

“Mrs. Marini from the Ragione boutique has arrived.”

Ignoring Sancha’s opinion that they should deal with a better dressmaker now that they had so much money, Ariadne had called for the Ragione boutique they usually dealt with.

“The budget isn’t very ample. The amount we can spend on the dress is… I think about 5 ducats (around 5 million won)?”

“Miss! His Eminence the Cardinal said he would give you more if needed!”

“We should try to make do with what we’ve been given for now. Besides, I need to prepare a full set of cosmetics this time, so it’s not as ample as you’d think.”

At those words, Sancha, who had been full of complaints, nodded in understanding.

In San Carlo, a girl who hadn’t made her debutante debut couldn’t wear makeup. So Ariadne had also been unable to wear any makeup except basic skin ointments.

Finally, starting from this debutante ball, Ariadne would also be able to wear color makeup when going out.

“Miss, your features are well-proportioned, so once you put on makeup, you’ll be a great beauty.”

Sancha was full of enthusiasm. She had talent to match her enthusiasm. Her enthusiasm reached the skies even during dress selection, which earned high praise from Mrs. Marini.

“Let’s go with something simple and modest. I’d prefer no fussy decorations and minimal skin exposure. Have the neckline come up to above the collarbones.”

In her previous life, Ariadne had lived at the center of negative attention for nearly a decade.

Wearing a deep-cut dress was called vulgar, a flashy dress was called tacky, a plain dress was called shabby – after enduring such criticism for nearly ten years, her dress choices grew increasingly conservative.

Rather than choosing something beautiful or flattering, she focused on choosing clothes that wouldn’t be criticized, which led to her being told countless times that she “lacked fashion sense”. Being told you lack fashion sense for a decade would make anyone feel discouraged.

This ultimately became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Ariadne truly had no eye for choosing clothes. At Ariadne’s request, Sancha and Mrs. Marini cried out in unison.

“That won’t do!”

“Absolutely not!”

Mrs. Marini expounded on the usual theory she had preached to Ariadne before.

“If you have volume in your upper body, you can’t just cover it all up! You need to show some cleavage and give it an airy feel to look slimmer.”

“That’s right! That’s right! Plus, Miss, you have pretty collarbones and a small face, but your neck isn’t particularly long! If you raise the neckline, it will look incredibly stuffy.”

Mrs. Marini looked at Sancha with an approving air.

“Miss de Mare, your close attendant has a good eye. Very sharp.”

“Of course!”

Sancha, whose pride was inflated by Mrs. Marini’s praise, persuaded Ariadne.

“Miss, let’s have a low neckline and instead wrap your usual linen cloth more thickly that day. Then the front will look flat, it won’t seem revealing, and your neck will look refreshingly long.”

Ariadne threw up both her hands in surrender.

“I have no choice when you two join forces to persuade me like this. Make the first dress simple and elegant, the second dress comfortable for activities, and I’ll leave the details to you two.”

Sancha and Mrs. Marini high-fived each other.

Not everything about preparing for the debutante ball was as fun and pleasant as choosing dresses. During lunch with the de Mare family, Lucrezia brought up the topic of Ariadne’s debutante partner.

“Your Eminence, actually Ippolito should have been Ariadne’s debutante partner as originally planned.”

“Hmm. Indeed.”

Ippolito was the eldest son of Cardinal de Mare and Lucrezia, currently studying abroad in the university city of Padua.

“Ippolito can’t return to San Carlo for this, can he?”

“It seems difficult.”

“So we decided to bring in a distant relative to be Ariadne’s debutante partner.”

It was the first time Ariadne was hearing this. Cardinal de Mare’s brows also furrowed.

“Surely not a child from your maiden family?”