Chapter 7
Alexa stepped into the space partitioned by decorative screens and meticulously examined the work from the previous night. Her every gesture was cautious, careful not to disturb the swing connected to the ceiling or the mannequin seated upon it.
The mannequin was dressed in an outdoor picnic dress and hat. The screens used as the backdrop were densely covered with hundreds of pink and white artificial flowers, maximizing the warm seasonal feel inside the display window. The stacked travel trunks beside the swing evoked the upcoming vacation season and the coastal cities awaiting tourists.
Alexa set down a prop box behind the trunks and pulled out a soft cloth from inside. She wiped away even the scant handful of dust, then idly adjusted the position of the travel trunks. For the artificial flowers that seemed not quite adhered to the wall, she reapplied glue to their bases and secured them firmly.
A moment later, the bell signaling the time to draw the curtains rang several times. Taking a deep breath, Alexa pulled the curtain cord in time with the chimes. The dim surroundings suddenly brightened as the early morning sunlight poured into the display window. The small cubic crystals sparsely attached inside the artificial flowers caught the light and shimmered faintly.
A satisfied smile curved Alexa’s lips as she took in the entire scene. How many women could resist being captivated by a dress as light as a bird’s feather? This season was bound to end in resounding success.
Alexa’s eyes, tinged with excitement, sparkled as well.
* * *
The dawn at a gentlemen’s club often ended with unpleasant commotion.
Raymond strolled leisurely down the street, feeling the shouts of drunken revelers ringing in his ears like tinnitus. When he had thrown off the men clinging to his sleeve, insisting on one more round of cards, and stepped out of the building, his driver was waiting nearby.
The driver naturally moved to pick up his master, but Raymond replied that he wanted to clear his head and would walk. And before he knew it, he had arrived here.
Everhart Department Store.
Raymond looked up at the grand building standing sentinel at the intersection. The irritating name blurred into his mind, but there was no need to abandon the shortest path to his destination.
Crossing the road, he walked slowly along the wall built by Everhart. At that very moment, the curtains veiling the display windows from view were drawn back one by one. Like a military band raising flags in sequence to match a monarch’s stride. It was a magical instant.
What stopped Raymond as he passed the display window was the strangely familiar back of a woman. He had only a few steps left before leaving the department store’s domain.
Beyond the thick glass were a mannequin on a swing and a female employee in an apron. The employee was bent over, absorbed in straightening the mannequin’s hat. After the hat, she checked the wrinkles in the dress the mannequin wore.
Raymond’s eyes followed the movement of her pale, clean hands, and he suddenly realized he had been staring at the employee for far too long. A gentleman should turn his head before the other party took it as an unpleasant signal. But before his gaze could break free, the woman turned around.
Unaware that someone was standing in front of the display window, she sank to the floor and began picking up something scattered there. The soft contours of her face were familiar. Raymond tilted his head to confirm the busy employee’s features through the glass. Soon, his green eyes widened.
Alexa Winterborn.
Whether it was her old dullness of being so absorbed in something that she failed to notice her surroundings, she remained unaware that Raymond was watching.
Should he tap on the glass? Or call her name?
After a brief hesitation, Raymond shifted a step sideways, blocking the sunlight that should have reached Alexa. Only after confirming the shadow cast over her head did Alexa frown and look up.
A range of emotions flickered through her blue eyes: puzzlement, denial of reality, and then shock.
Raymond found the dawn encounter intriguing. Seeing the face he had often encountered in Blainfield now wary even stirred a sense of gladness.
Alexa quickly jumped to her feet, stumbling backward until she collided with the travel trunks stacked like a wedding cake. She clutched her wrist where it had hit, as if in pain. Raymond’s expression hardened, displeased by her carelessness.
After straightening the trunks, Alexa hurried out of the display window upon seeing the man still standing outside.
As he waited for her to emerge from the building, Raymond leisurely inspected the inside of the display window. He thought the fluttering-sleeved dress on the mannequin would suit that woman well.
* * *
Alexa removed her apron and slipped out through the department store’s back door, walking toward the man waiting for her. Thanks to forgetting the jacket she had worn on her way to work, a chill wind seeped under her blouse.
The duke was still standing in front of the display window. Hearing her footsteps, he turned. Since Alexa was no longer the daughter of a duchess, she recalled the etiquette a commoner owed a noble and bowed her head. Raymond watched her prim gesture in silence, then a soft voice flowed from between his lips.
“Alexa Belsmeyer.”
The name from a past she wanted to forget. A name that had been far too burdensome. This must be the man’s spite. Alexa looked at him with eyes full of confusion.
“Oh, my mistake. Should I call you Miss Winterborn, like when we first met at the department store?”
“I would appreciate that. Everyone here calls me that.”
“Everyone?”
“Except my family. They call me Alexa.”
“By family, do you mean Harrison Winterborn?”
“…I have a brother as well.”
A faint sneer curved Raymond’s lips. As if to say, Do you even have a true family, having taken a third surname at your mother’s behest?
It could have been her own insecurity. But would he show this side to someone from high society with a complicated family history? Absolutely not. Alexa wanted to end this reunion that only spoiled her mood as quickly as possible.
“Do you have some special business at the department store? It’s busy with the new season starting.”
“Busy enough that you have to personally tend to the mannequin’s clothes?”
“Yes.”
“It sounds as if this is your workplace.”
“It’s the work my father and mother taught me themselves. I learn it with pride.”
While Alexa rubbed her arms to ward off the chill, Raymond took in her soft lines.
She had been a child as lanky as a newly sprouted branch, seeming liable to snap easily. In contrast, the current Alexa exuded a soft, sweet aura like a rose or peony on the verge of blooming. What remained unchanged, perhaps, was her wary gaze and the posture that never relaxed its tension.
“Your Grace.”
Unable to bear the silence, Alexa called to him in a prompting tone.
“If it’s not rude, I’d like to excuse myself first. I still have work to finish.”
“Go ahead.”
“…May I really leave?”
“Go.”
Alexa bowed deeply to Raymond, who let her go more readily than expected, and turned away. The woman’s skirt swayed gently in the wind as she retraced her steps. It was then, as Raymond watched her retreating figure stirring unfamiliar sentiments, that he spoke.
“Congratulations.”
Alexa, who had been walking briskly, halted abruptly in place.
“You seem to have descended to the position you wanted. It suits you well.”
Her slender shoulders stiffened, and her fists clenched. The blue eyes that slowly turned were tinted with the hues Raymond had always seen.
Anger and injustice. Easily recognizable, intense and clear emotions. Raymond was curious. Did the girl who couldn’t hide her hurt still exist within the beautifully grown woman’s interior?
“Thank you. Your Grace also suits your current place exceedingly well.”
Alexa left with only those words. The statement, closer to mockery than praise, dissipated without a trace into the air laced with ambiguous chill. Once she returned inside the building, Raymond crossed the street again as if nothing noteworthy had occurred.
Yet the second encounter with the woman, and the changes he sensed there, began to sprout in a corner of his mind like green leaves pushing through thick soil.
* * *
Countess Bonis has agreed to take on the role of your chaperone.
From the day after Harrison delivered that news, the chaperone visited Alexa daily. Her haughty name was Olga Bonis. She was Harrison’s only sister.
For the daughter of a divorced duchess to reenter society and seek a husband, a chaperone was necessary. One with wide connections, willing to endure the criticism that would fall upon her as well. Among Harrison’s acquaintances, the only noblewoman who could fill that role was his sister Olga.
Silverbell, the social gathering to which Olga belonged, was open only to ladies from influential families. Members took turns as sponsoring chair, and they also managed the capital’s ballroom bearing the same name. Thanks to this, Alexa gained the opportunity to make her appearance at Silverbell’s regular ball, envied by many women.
Dresses and hair designs. Jewelry and shoes. Even the families of men deemed good husband prospects and their tastes. There was no area untouched by the sharp advice of Olga, the experienced one.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
