It was a bizarre sight.
A bright red fabric draped over one of Caesar’s shoulders, while multiple other swatches of different colors hung from the other.
Surrounding him, a group of tailors bickered animatedly.
“But His Majesty has such a radiant face! Red would suit him best!”
“No, no! His eyes are blue, so a cool-toned fabric would complement them far better!”
One of the tailors threw a blue fabric over the red one.
“Hmm…”
I crossed my arms, watching Caesar with interest.
The blue fabric did match his eye color beautifully.
If his hair had remained the silver of his childhood, I would have chosen it without hesitation.
But…
Caesar’s hair had darkened over time.
The silver had turned to gray, then deepened further, until it was now as dark as ink with a single drop of water mixed in.
Because of that, his already pale complexion looked even colder.
His youthful roundness had vanished, leaving behind sharp, striking features that made him appear even more intimidating.
So while the blue fabric matched his eyes, it also risked making his face seem almost ghostly.
“I think red is better.”
“Evelyn?”
At my sudden comment, Caesar—who had been standing stiffly with his brows furrowed—finally noticed me and lifted his head.
He quickly brushed the fabrics off his shoulders and stepped toward me.
“When did you get here?”
“Just now. Why did you call for me?”
I asked, barely holding back a grin.
“Don’t laugh.”
“Why not? It’s a good look on you. Anyway, my vote is for red.”
The tailor who had been advocating for red lit up with satisfaction.
Now that I looked closer, I recognized him—it was Tialen, the same tailor who had made my debutante dress two years ago.
“It’s been a while,” I greeted him with a smile.
Tialen bowed politely.
“It has been a while, Lady Chester. My, you’ve become even more beautiful! And your eye for fashion is as sharp as ever! You’ll be leaving your next debutante dress to me, of course?”
“That’s actually why I called you here,” Caesar interjected.
“I thought it would be best to have your dress made while I’m getting my attire fitted.”
“What? My dress?”
I blinked.
“But I could just wear the one from before…”
“Excuse me, my lady!”
Tialen gasped dramatically.
“In two years, fashion trends have completely changed! Do you mean to insult me, Tialen, by suggesting I’m out of touch with the latest styles?”
“That’s not what I meant…”
I gave Caesar a helpless look.
“Even if I do need a new dress, my mother would handle it. There’s no reason to have it made here.”
“Well…”
Caesar hesitated briefly before answering.
“Wouldn’t it be more convenient to have the same tailor make both?”
“…Convenient how?”
“As you know, Tialen is extremely busy. Now that he’s working on my ceremonial attire, his schedule will be even tighter. Finding another tailor would be difficult.”
“Oh…”
So, basically, he was saying it would be easier—and likely cheaper—to have Tialen handle both at once.
It made sense.
Caesar continued,
“Besides, your last debutante dress suited you well. It would be best to keep it consistent.”
“Wait—”
I let out a breathy laugh.
“Have you even seen my debutante dress?”
I gave him a skeptical look, and he immediately avoided my gaze.
Since I hadn’t ordered a dress last year, he must have been referring to the one from two years ago—the one I never got to wear to the ball because of his rampage.
Did he seriously have the time to look at my dress while he was feverish in bed?
Caesar cleared his throat and changed the subject.
“Regardless, I feel bad since you missed your debutante because of me.”
“Well… if you put it that way, fine.”
I wasn’t against getting a new dress anyway, and if he was offering to arrange it, there was no reason to refuse.
“Then we’ll take measurements right away.”
“Right now? What about you? You looked busy choosing fabrics…”
“You already said red was best.”
With that, he turned to Tialen.
“Can you incorporate red into Evelyn’s dress as well?”
“Of course, Your Majesty! As long as the base is white, we can add red accents for a complementary design.”
Wait, what?
“Um… Your Majesty, why are we talking about my dress now? My comment was about yours.”
“I know.”
“…Excuse me?”
“If my outfit is red, then yours should be, too. It’s proper etiquette for partners to coordinate their attire.”
“…What?”
I stared at him, completely dumbfounded.
“Partners? Me? With you?”
“Yes.”
Caesar answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Like I was the strange one for questioning it.
Me.
As the emperor’s partner.
At the debutante ball.
Katana’s words suddenly came back to me.
About how, according to tradition, the person you had your first dance with at the debutante was the one you would eventually marry.
And how most people danced with their partners.
Even setting aside that superstition, the idea itself was absurd.
The emperor’s partner?
And a Baron’s daughter like me?
If I became Caesar’s partner, rumors would spread like wildfire throughout high society.
People would say we were in love, that we were engaged…
And politically, it would have major repercussions.
People would talk endlessly about my family, my parents, and what this meant for them.
Katana had been right—marriage was a business.
And for an emperor, that was even more true.
Even if Caesar and I insisted that our relationship was purely platonic, no one would believe us.
It could even influence the selection of the future empress.
“Um, Your Majesty… I’m sorry, but I can’t be your partner.”
“What? …Do you already have someone else?”
“No, it’s not that, but—”
“Then why? Why can’t you?”
I stiffened at his sudden, urgent tone.
Caesar was staring at me, looking… dejected.
His long, thick eyelashes drooped slightly, giving him an air of quiet melancholy.
“…Your Majesty?”
Just moments ago, I had been thinking about how sharp and intimidating his features had become.
But now, that impression shattered completely.
I even started to worry—was he going to cry again?
“I just thought… it was obvious that you’d be my partner,” he murmured.
“What?”
“You said last year that it would be nice to attend the debutante together.”
“That just meant on the same day! That’s all I meant!”
Caesar’s shoulders slumped.
“But… I don’t have anyone else I’d want as my partner.”
That was ridiculous.
Lately, anytime three or more palace maids gathered, the topic of conversation was always Caesar.
His impossibly good looks.
And if even the palace maids were fawning over him, then the noble ladies of high society would be no different.
Finding a partner would be the easiest thing in the world for him.
I could easily imagine it—Caesar walking into the ballroom, dressed in a red suit, beside a girl I didn’t know.
Holding her hand as they entered, smiling as they talked, dancing together for their first waltz.
Everyone would celebrate them.
And soon, the rumors would start.
That they were in love.
That their marriage was already decided.
…What?
For some reason, that thought made me feel weird.
“Of course, if it’s because you don’t like me, then I won’t force you,” Caesar mumbled, looking even more downcast.
And before I could even think, I instinctively waved my hands in protest.
“Of course I don’t dislike you, Your Majesty! I just—”
“Really? You don’t dislike me?”
“Of course not! How could I dislike you?”
“Then that’s good.”
“…What?”
“If you don’t dislike me, then that means you like me.”
Caesar beamed.
The sadness from moments ago vanished completely, replaced by a dazzlingly bright smile.
As if it had all been a lie.
****
Up until he was sixteen, Caesar only wanted to show Evelyn his strongest side.
He wanted to protect her, to seem dependable in her eyes.
He wanted to grow up quickly so he could stand beside her with confidence.
But after that day, six months ago, he realized the truth.
Evelyn had stayed by his side and done so much for him because he had seemed weak.
The stronger he became—the less he wavered at Marriott’s words, the less he cried on his mother’s death anniversary, the more he distanced himself from sweet cookies—
The more Evelyn distanced herself from him.
She no longer ruffled his hair in praise.
She no longer sighed and indulged him when he was being stubborn.
She no longer watched over him with concern or fussed over him.
She had stopped seeing him as someone who needed to be taken care of.
The more reliable he became, the more she stepped away rather than leaned on him.
But whenever he showed weakness, she paid more attention to him.
She worried.
She cared.
She stayed.
She had even postponed her debutante simply because he had cried.
So Caesar had realized, with absolute certainty, that the only way to stay by Evelyn’s side—
Was to keep showing his weakness.
It was easy enough.
Droop his eyebrows slightly, let his gaze drift into the distance, draw out his words just a little longer—
And she would soften.
Using that same method, he was going to secure his place as her partner, too.
Getting her to delay her debutante had taken so much effort.
Now that they were finally attending together, there was no way he was going to let someone else take that position.
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