“…Do you like it?”
“Pardon?”
Grace turned her back, doubting her ears.
Carl was sitting on the sofa, leaning slightly back, resting his chin on his hand as he stared at her.
His eyes were calm and indifferent, with a relaxed smile.
Nothing else came to mind except that he looked perfect.
When Grace didn’t say anything and simply looked at him, Carl tapped the armrest with his fingers.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
“…To be honest, I didn’t hear what you said.”
“I asked about your favorite color. What color do you like? I like white.”
Ah, so that’s what he meant.
Grace, realizing what she had missed, replied without suspicion.
“I don’t have a particular favorite…”
“Then you wouldn’t mind wearing any color?”
There was a strange edge to Carl’s tone.
“Ah… If I had to choose, maybe brown or beige?”
Seeing the color of the clothes she was currently wearing, Grace gave a vague answer. Carl’s eyes briefly scanned her.
Slowly, thoroughly, his gaze inspected her from head to toe.
But his eyes weren’t lewd.
If there had been even a hint of indecency, she would’ve said something.
His gaze was sharp and dry, making Grace unable to react at all.
“You mean you don’t like flashy colors?”
“Yes, well…”
Since it wasn’t wrong, Grace nodded.
Working with books always led to dust sticking to her clothes, so she usually wore darker tones rather than bright ones.
“Like the clothes you’re wearing now.”
“That’s right.”
Carl tilted his head slightly and let out a small chuckle.
“Then there’s no helping it. We’ll have to ask for help. Madam Castley?”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
Madam Castley, the owner of the boutique standing between mannequins, walked over with a slightly awkward smile.
“With her platinum blonde hair and fair skin, the young lady would look beautiful in bolder, more vibrant colors. She’d look lovely in anything.”
“…”
Grace turned her gaze away, avoiding their eyes.
Being evaluated for her looks right in front of her was a first, and it made her face flush a little.
As she tried to cool her burning cheeks, Madam Castley busily moved between dress designs.
“Royal blue, cherry tomato, and rose quartz. These three colors would make you stand out even more than other young ladies. And we’ll prepare about five more dresses…”
“Wait a moment.”
Before Madam Castley could finish, Grace interrupted.
Both Madam Castley and Crown Prince Carl looked at her.
“What’s wrong?”
Carl’s expression turned slightly serious.
Grace quietly stepped closer and cautiously said,
“Your Highness… I… I can’t wear these clothes.”
She had come here before with Countess Blodin, so she knew how expensive the dresses were.
Of course, the reason for buying the clothes was because of the contract.
Both of them were making efforts for the contract, but Grace couldn’t bring herself to accept such expensive clothes without hesitation.
“Aren’t there other boutiques in the capital?”
“Tell me the reason.”
“…I don’t think I can handle the responsibility of wearing these clothes.”
Though she spoke calmly, the anxiety in her voice was evident.
“Ah, that’s the reason.”
Carl looked at her and let out a small, dry smile.
After signaling Madam Castley to step back, he spoke.
“These clothes don’t have any special meaning. You know that, right?”
“I know. Of course, it’s because of the contract, but still…”
“I didn’t bring you here to burden you. If you have a ballgown, there’s no need to buy more.”
“…”
A ballgown? Of course she didn’t have one. She wasn’t a noble anymore.
A noble would have one by default, but Grace, who worked as a librarian to earn money, had no need for one.
“You saw it at the tea party—nobles care deeply about appearances. Balls are even more intense.”
She had never been to a ball, nor had she ever cared to go.
She never imagined she would ever experience such a thing.
She was born a count’s daughter, but after her parents died, she stopped considering herself a noble.
She had hardly ever lived the life of a noble lady, nor had she wanted to.
Grace was focused only on surviving the present.
She lived each day hoping tomorrow would be better than yesterday.
The future seemed so distant that her small dream of owning a quiet little library had become a forgotten wish.
And yet—
Someone had appeared who could turn that dream into reality, someone who could return her to the noble life she had lost.
“I won’t force you to wear these clothes. But you do have to attend the ball, no matter what you wear.”
“…”
Grace looked at Carl in silence.
“But depending on what you wear, the success of our contract might change.”
Carl had a point.
The contract meant Carl had chosen Grace, and she would become the crown princess.
If she showed up in shabby clothes, people would mock her, question her, and gossip with jealousy and doubt.
But if she appeared in elegant clothes, like a noble—
She might be able to avoid unnecessary attention by blending in.
“You’re right, Your Highness.”
Grace took a step back and nodded.
“Even so, I’ll only accept one dress. One should be enough.”
“One won’t do. You’ll need to attend at least three balls. Make sure you have three dresses.”
“…Three?”
At her slight hesitation, Carl stood with a smile.
“Don’t feel pressured.”
From the short distance, Carl’s fingers gently brushed her hair over her shoulder.
“These dresses are worth nothing compared to what we’re trying to achieve.”
⚜ ⚜ ⚜
When she left the boutique, Grace’s hands were full.
One box held the dress, and the other a pair of shoes to match.
She had refused Carl’s offer to send a servant, insisting on carrying them home herself.
The next morning, as soon as she arrived at work, Viscount Ivan Aster burst into the west wing library.
“Viscount, what brings you all the way here?”
Ivan, slightly flustered, approached and asked awkwardly,
“Grace, I’m sorry to ask, but do you happen to have a formal or ball dress?”
“What? Why are you suddenly asking that?”
Carl’s gift from yesterday immediately came to mind, but Grace pushed the thought away.
Did Ivan know she went to the boutique with Carl?
He couldn’t have—unless he saw it with his own eyes.
No way… right?
Ivan rubbed his face with both hands and explained,
“There’s a dinner party tonight at the west wing. Everyone from the imperial library, including myself, has been invited.”
A dinner party at the west wing.
It had to be the one Kasey mentioned—the one hosted by Carl himself, with the strict Duchess Grikel in attendance.
And now even the librarians?
“We’ve been invited too?”
“Yes. And I completely forgot about it until now.”
Ivan ran his hands through his messy hair, groaning in frustration.
“All the other librarians have at least one formal outfit from previous events. What about you?”
“I…”
“If not, I’ll go now and find something—anything—for you to wear!”
As he turned to rush out, Grace quickly stopped him.
“It’s okay, Viscount! I—I do have something!”
“Really?”
“I have at least one.”
“That’s a relief.”
Ivan let out a sigh, visibly relieved.
“I’ll be introducing you as an official librarian today, so there’s no need to go all out. Just look neat and appropriate.”
“Yes.”
Neat and appropriate.
⚜ ⚜ ⚜
She didn’t wear the dress Carl gave her.
As Ivan said, she wore something modest and appropriate for the dinner party in the west wing.
Ivan had intended to introduce each librarian individually, but there were too many guests, so things didn’t go as planned.
“Viscount Aster, thank you for coming. The attendants will guide you to your seats.”
At Carl’s words, the attendants led Ivan and the librarians to the far end of the dining table.
Grace blended in among the others.
Even so, she felt a gaze.
Cold, unwavering blue eyes staring straight at her.
From the icy look, she couldn’t read Carl’s emotions.
But one thing was clear—he wasn’t pleased.
Not long after they were seated, the banquet began.
“I hear you’ve been quite busy attending all sorts of gatherings lately?”
A sharp voice cut through the noise at the table.
Grace turned her head toward the sound.
A beautiful woman with pale skin and golden-blonde hair twisted up in an elegant style smiled with crimson lips.
“That’s Duchess Eleanor Grikel,” Ivan whispered, pointing with his knife.
“She’s His Highness’s sister. Former imperial princess.”
“I see.”
The way she looked at Carl was intense.
“Seems like they don’t get along.”
“‘Don’t get along’ is an understatement. They once fought over the throne.”
Grace remembered what Carl had said.
That Duchess Grikel had tried to kill him several times because she wanted the crown.
How could both of them sit and dine so calmly with such pasts?
“They definitely have reason to dislike each other.”
“Just watch. A war without swords is about to begin.”
“Ahem.”
At someone’s subtle cough, Grace turned her attention back to her plate.
But her mind stayed focused on Carl and Duchess Grikel.
“It’s nothing unexpected since your return. People’s interest will fade with time.”
“You really believe that?”
Eleanor’s brow arched.
“With the social season about to begin, all eyes will be on you. Mother says she wants your engagement settled by next summer at the latest.”
Her velvet-smooth voice dripped with coldness.
It wasn’t the tone one would use with a younger brother.
“Then again, your engagement isn’t just any engagement, is it?”
“…”
“Your partner will be the crown princess, the future empress. What could be more important for the empire, right everyone?”
Eleanor straightened her posture and calmly sliced her steak.
The ladies next to her nodded eagerly.
“Of course. His Highness is the future of the empire.”
“Yes, everyone considers his engagement of utmost importance.”
Eleanor’s gaze at Carl was sharp with reproach.
“Carl, you must know how much people love you. Even if you’re not interested, I still hear everything you do.”
“Is that so?”
“Are you unaware—or just pretending?”
All eyes turned to Carl.
Despite Eleanor’s provocative words, he remained composed, unmoved.
Even as she sharpened her verbal daggers, Carl calmly lifted his glass.
“I also take the engagement seriously. As crown prince, I am carefully and logically selecting a suitable partner.”
With a slight smile, Carl gave her a warning look—but Eleanor didn’t stop.
Her hazel eyes filled with suspicion.
“That means you have your own standards?”
“Yes. The crown princess will be my partner in leading the empire.”
Carl’s voice remained steady and calm.
“Then that’s good. I thought you were just playing around, wasting time…”
Eleanor trailed off, shifting her gaze back to her plate.
“I heard you even invited some girl to the tea party—someone no one can tell whether she’s a noble or just a librarian.”
