Chapter 77

Most of Nerys’s clothing was modest. While she always wore the softest fabrics she could afford without drawing attention, Diane probably found that far too dull.

So when Diane suggested they go shopping for jewelry, Nerys eventually agreed—because she knew from experience that Diane would never give up until she got her way.

Lying that she had no money to spend was pointless. Diane was planning to buy jewelry herself anyway, and she’d drag Nerys along under the pretense of needing company, only to insist that Nerys get something too—“since they were already there.”

Even though Nerys could see right through that plan, she surrendered.

“This is the place!”

By now, Carten’s shops were already picked clean of everything from jewels to ribbons for the upcoming graduation ball. There was no point in browsing anymore. Diane and Nerys instead visited a newly opened department store in front of Carten Station.

The sign above gleamed with the word ‘Morier’ in dazzling lettering.

“This is the place, you know? The one run by that Miss Morier you helped out before. Isn’t it amazing? Back when she was staying at our house, I just thought she was going through a rough time, but turns out she’s a huge deal. Even my brother praised her!”

The fact that someone who used to work for them had become a wildly successful business rival didn’t bother the MacKinnon siblings. They simply admired her, which spoke volumes about their character.

Nerys, who had once kept Joan in the MacKinnon household when she had no other place to stay—only to swiftly reclaim her when the sales of the spike pouch took off—felt slightly awkward now.

But Diane’s admiration wasn’t an exaggeration.

The Morier store was a massive three-story building. Unusually, each floor sold different categories of goods.

Considering that most stores specialized in just one type of item per building, this was a smart idea.

Even more revolutionary, they sold not only Morier’s own products but also items from other trading firms.

From a customer’s perspective, someone who came in looking for goods from another company would inevitably end up browsing Morier’s products too.

As Diane and Nerys wandered through the luxurious first floor, where jewelry and cosmetics were sold, Diane found herself captivated by the gemstones on display.

One particular emerald brooch, almost the same color as her eyes, caught her attention.

While Diane was distracted by the brooch, Nerys quietly slipped upstairs to the second floor where fabrics and clothing were sold.

She wanted to beat Diane to the punch—before her friend inevitably insisted on ordering an outlandishly extravagant dress for her as a graduation ball gift, with the promise that she’d “cover the difference.”

Climbing the grand staircase, decorated like one from a noble’s mansion, Nerys was greeted at the second floor landing by a smartly dressed footman.

“Welcome, my lady. How may I assist you?”

“I’m here to have an evening gown made.”

By normal standards, Nerys—without a single attendant or piece of jewelry—didn’t look like someone who should be shopping at a high-end boutique like Morier.

But the footman didn’t show a hint of disdain. He bowed politely.

“Right this way, miss.”

Well-trained, Nerys thought as she followed him. He didn’t even ask whom she was looking for.

He would likely lead her to a tailor who handled items just slightly above what she appeared to be wearing. After all, evening gowns were meant to be finer than everyday clothing.

The second floor felt like a street lined with small boutiques.

Roughly half of them belonged to the Morier firm and were large and lavish, while the others were smaller shops affiliated with outside firms.

The footman brought Nerys to one such shop.

“This is Madame Crois, miss. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, thank you.”

The footman gave another bow and returned to his post.

A woman who had been working on a vibrant pink dress greeted Nerys with a wide smile.

“Welcome, miss! Are you looking for something specific?”

“I need an evening gown for the graduation ball. I’m sure reservations are backed up this time of year, but is it still possible?”

Madame Crois responded warmly.

“Of course, miss. Let me show you our designs. Ize, would you please escort the lady in?”

An assistant swiftly led Nerys into the fitting area. She seated her in a guest chair and brought her some tea.

Madame Crois, pausing her work on the pink dress, spread a portfolio of her designs on the table before Nerys.

“As you may already know, the trend from the court continues—off-shoulder styles are in again this year. You have such a graceful and noble air, so I’d recommend not going with something too low-cut. Instead, how about this square neckline? And if you like green…”

Just as Madame Crois was getting into her flow, someone abruptly entered the boutique.

“Madame Crois, for the fitting…”

The girl who called out the designer’s name was someone Nerys recognized immediately. The maid who followed her in was familiar too.

“Alecto.”

Nerys raised an eyebrow and offered a breezy greeting. Alecto Isalani muttered her name like she was chewing it through clenched teeth.

“…Ne… rys.”

“It’s been a while. Is that your dress?”

Nerys tilted her chin toward the pink gown Madame Crois had been working on earlier.

That shade of pink was likely to clash terribly with Alecto’s red hair. But Nerys didn’t feel any obligation to point that out.

“It is.”

Alecto looked down her nose at Nerys and sneered.

Ever since she had been ostracized during their first year, Alecto had feared and hated her peers in equal measure.

And the one she resented most of all was Nerys—of lower status yet unwilling to acknowledge her.

Today, with no classmates around to shame her, Alecto took the opportunity to lash out boldly.

“This store seems a bit above your league, doesn’t it? Have you saved up enough money?”

The assistant’s expression faltered for a brief moment. Madame Crois clicked her tongue silently.

In truly refined establishments, staff should never reveal that they overheard their customers’ conversations. Clearly, there was still some training lacking here.

On the other hand, the person on the receiving end of such blatant mockery—Nerys—didn’t even twitch an eyebrow as she calmly replied.

“What’s so difficult? It’s not like it’s woven with gold thread.”

Gold-threaded garments were reserved only for the direct members of the royal family. Alecto’s anger flared. How dare she even mention something like that?

“Feeling confident, are we? I’m curious to see what you’re buying—mind if I watch?”

“Go ahead.”

Alecto plopped down beside Nerys without waiting.

The maid who had accompanied Alecto—Lina—had grown coarser in temperament after years of watching her mistress struggle. She snapped irritably at the staff.

“Is my lady a servant to you? Where’s her drink?”

“S-Sorry!”

The staff scrambled to bring refreshments. Madame Crois looked a bit troubled.

“My lady…”

“Which one?”

Both Nerys and Alecto answered at the same time. Madame Crois instantly sensed deep friction between the two girls.

Worse yet, it seemed Alecto was the one harboring stronger resentment. The blonde girl, on the other hand, carried herself with such composure that, even if she bore a grudge, she didn’t seem the type to harm others.

Still, Madame Crois had dealt with unpredictable students for over a decade. She quickly clarified.

“Lady Isalani, shall we show you your fitting later, then?”

Alecto gave a lofty nod at the cautious suggestion.

“Let me see this first.”

With that, she fixed her gaze on Nerys’s hands. Nerys swiftly selected a few sketches from the designs Madame Crois had laid out earlier.

“This neckline from this drawing, sleeves like the ones in this one, and the skirt from this design. Show me some fabrics that would suit it.”

Madame Crois was inwardly impressed as she imagined the combination Nerys described. If this young lady was a peer of Alecto Isalani—the one the pink dress was for—she must still be quite young.

And yet she had such a keen eye for what suited her.

Meanwhile, Alecto, upon seeing the designs Nerys chose, was irritated. There wasn’t even anything to criticize—they were beautiful.

If she had to nitpick…

“Who wears something like that nowadays? Do you have a scar on your neck or something?”

Royal women often wore court dresses with deep cuts across the chest and shoulders. Noblewomen eagerly copied the style. The neckline Nerys had chosen was a shallow boat-neck, covering everything from the collarbone down.

Nerys didn’t even bother replying.

Several fabric samples were brought out. Just as Madame Crois was about to explain the pros and cons of each, Nerys cut in.

“This green one.”

“An excellent choice, my lady.”

The swift decision made it clear she didn’t need to see the rest. The assistant sighed and began repacking the unused fabric.

“Riiiiiz!”

A pitiful wail echoed somewhere nearby. For the first time since entering the boutique, Nerys’s expression twisted slightly.

She stood up and quickly handed Madame Crois a card with her name and address.

“Sorry, something urgent just came up. I’ll have to come back for measurements. Send the deposit invoice to this address.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The sudden urgency and awkwardness on her otherwise perfectly graceful face made her seem especially charming. Madame Crois accepted the card with a smile.

Just as Nerys was about to leave, Alecto called out to her in a cold voice.

“Must be nice.”

Nerys stopped and turned back. What was? She didn’t ask aloud, but Alecto continued as if she’d heard the question.

“You’re so annoying. But you still got someone like Diane to stick with you. That must be nice.”

Someone like Diane?

Nerys let go of her usual strategy of ignoring Alecto and crossed her arms. Stick with her? That phrasing—of course she’d say something like that.

Alecto clenched the sleeve of the pink dress she’d been admiring so hard it looked ready to tear.

“You don’t get it, do you? That’s why you act so high and mighty and look down on me. I’m terrified of people my age now. I didn’t do anything wrong, but if I say even one thing, they laugh behind my back. Even when I say the right thing.”

Nerys’s eyes narrowed.

It was true Alecto had been ostracized by her classmates in their first year. But, as Alecto herself often said—was the daughter of Count Isalani really the same as a knight’s daughter?

Did the students ever do to Alecto what they had once done to Nerys? Those students, so attuned to power dynamics?

And by the time Nerys and Alecto reached second year, the blatant hostility toward Alecto had all but disappeared.

Alecto received invitations to class events and was never openly excluded from any gathering.

Nerys knew exactly who had the power to make that happen. Especially after realizing Alecto had become that girl’s tool, Nerys’s suspicion had turned into certainty.

Even so, Alecto Isalani continued to wallow in misery.

Did it make Nerys feel better to witness that? No. She was always the same.

‘No one should ever go through something like this.’ The words she had once spoken in the library, long ago, were still brutally sincere.

“I know.”

That was why she responded that way—calmly, not engaging, to someone lost and lashing out with nowhere to turn.

Alecto’s eyes flared with rage.

“Liar!”

“I wish it were a lie. I wish I didn’t understand that fear, or the kind of scar that never really heals. I wish I could just laugh and tell myself the person I hurt deserved it, then move on. I wish I could forget everything.”

The pain I went through was horrible, but at least I didn’t have to resort to something that low—lucky me, right?

If someday I go to hell with you, at least I’ll know exactly why I’m there.

The rest of that thought stayed forever locked in Nerys’s heart. She didn’t look back at Alecto’s stunned face as she walked out of the boutique.