Chapter 49

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 49

Chapter Title: Rita Morgan's Secret

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The maids brought in warm tea and refreshments.

I smiled and spoke up.

"Does a gentleman really need a reason to help a lady in distress?"

But Lady Isephin Solenu shook her head.

"That might fly in some cases, but I know full well it doesn't apply to what happened just now."

"Why not?"

Lady Isephin's usually impassive gaze grew distant, as if she were looking far away.

"Because His Highness the Crown Prince was drawing so much attention to it."

"......"

I couldn't deny it even if I tried.

Lady Isephin, who had kept a straight face the entire time, finally couldn't hold back and burst into laughter.

"Pfft, the baby squirrel... was truly something else."

I wanted to crawl into a hole—no, a squirrel hole—and hide.

"Please, never speak of it again."

"Heh. Yes, of course."

But she didn't give up on slyly probing.

"I take it that nickname wasn't something you agreed to?"

"As if!"

A squirrel!

A baby squirrel, no less!

And Arpad had blabbed about it right in front of the Empress, of all places.

By tomorrow, every noble in the capital would think my real pet name was baby squirrel, wouldn't they?

Why a squirrel, of all things?!

I was dying to grab Arpad and shake him until he explained himself.

But now wasn't the time.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my mind.

Get it together. This isn't the time to dwell on that. Squirrel or rabbit, it doesn't matter!

What mattered was the Lady Isephin Solenu sitting right in front of me.

I flashed a bright smile, took a sip of tea, and offered her some.

"Here, have some first. It'll warm you right up."

It was spring, sure, but she'd gotten soaked outside.

Warm tea would help raise her body temperature.

Of course, this wasn't the same floral tea Evangeline had dumped on her earlier.

Lady Solenu obediently sipped her tea and beat me to the punch, bringing up the main topic I hadn't even fully raised yet.

"Are you asking for my help with the ball at Artanus Hall, by any chance?"

I smiled and asked,

"What makes you say that?"

"Because my great-aunt is the Grand Duchess, who is His Highness Arpad's grandmother."

Lady Solenu explained the situation with remarkable calm.

"And it's well-known that the entire western social circle turned its back on the central one because of Her Highness the Grand Duchess."

Even as she laid out these weighty matters one by one, Isephin remained utterly nonchalant.

They were the kind of stories that anyone in high society would find riveting.

Not just petty rivalries, but the line of succession to the throne was tangled up in it too.

She listed the facts in her usual blunt tone.

"So it's only natural that Her Highness would reach out to me to bring the western circle along."

"Fair enough. Anyone would think the same."

Isephin declared it in her characteristically deflating tone.

"But if that's what you're after from me, you've got the wrong idea."

I wasn't surprised. I'd half-expected her to say as much.

But I asked anyway. The conversation had to continue.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm the family outcast."

Most people would hesitate or blush saying something like that.

But Lady Isephin Solenu showed no such sign.

It was just her stating a plain fact.

"I incurred my grandfather the marquis's wrath. Sending me to the central social circle was basically exiling me."

And earlier, even when Evangeline had dumped tea on her and ruined her dress, she hadn't flinched.

She hadn't even registered it as an insult.

If I hadn't intervened right away, Evangeline might have exploded even more at her indifference.

She explained her circumstances in that same even tone, without a hint of inflection to the end.

"There's no way the Empress-controlled center would accept me, so it was meant to humiliate me. Once I've been suitably shamed, I'll head back west and enter a convent. So I'm in no position to help you."

To a noble lady from a prestigious house, that was as good as a death sentence.

Yet she was nonchalant to an almost excessive degree.

And I know why.

I even knew why she'd fallen out of the marquis's favor—and what her future held.

Seeing my smile, Lady Solenu's mouth fell open in what seemed like her first real surprise.

"Her Highness isn't shocked?"

"No."

"Did you know already?"

"Exactly."

She furrowed her brow for a moment, pondering, then reached a simple conclusion.

"His Highness Arpad's intelligence network must be impressive."

It was the natural assumption.

I had gotten some info on her through Yulken, after all.

The preamble was enough.

Time to get to the point.

"Lady Solenu. I didn't call you here to ask for help with the Artanus Hall ball."

"Then what did you call me for?"

She asked, though she didn't seem particularly curious.

Still so nonchalant.

I couldn't wait for the moment that impassive expression cracked.

"Actually, I called you because I think I can help you. Lady Solenu."

Up to that point, she just tilted her head in confusion.

But my next words shattered the armor of nonchalance she wore like plate mail.

"Or rather, not Lady Solenu. Rita Morgan."

"!!!"

The woman who'd sat there in a daze jumped to her feet.

Those blue eyes, foggy as if perpetually misted over no matter what happened...

But now, the fog had cleared completely.

I continued with what I knew.

"You're the owner of Morgan's Atelier, pretty well-known in the west, right? Why'd you suddenly close up shop?"

I crossed my legs with a confident smile.

Annie refilled my empty teacup.

This time, a deep purple liquid filled the white porcelain.

Pale lilac Shalinga petals floated and danced on the surface.

The reason I knew about 'Rita Morgan' was simple.

Before my regression, she was the most famous dressmaker in the west.

She'd closed her shop midway and vanished, only to reappear years later and sweep the western social scene.

She produced limited quantities of innovatively beautiful designs, to the point that even central nobles desperately coveted her dresses.

At the height of Rita Morgan's fame, people whispered that she might split high society in two.

And not long after, Rita Morgan died of illness.

Her peak lasted barely two years.

Later, it came out through the seamstresses who'd worked under her.

That Rita Morgan was actually Lady Isephin Solenu of the prestigious Marquis Solenu house.

It was a massive scandal.

Dress designing or seamstressing wasn't work for a noble lady—especially not the daughter of a great house.

That's why she'd kept it secret, but her family eventually found out.

Forced to shutter the shop, she entered a convent, only to fall ill soon after.

Realizing her days were numbered, Lady Solenu stormed out of the convent, ignored her family's obstructions, and threw herself into her passion.

Despite obstructing her all along, even the Solenu family couldn't stop their daughter in those final two years—probably because they knew her time was short.

That's how Rita Morgan, or Isephin Solenu, became a legend.

Her output was small, so each piece held immense value.

And one more thing: Rita Morgan never made dresses for Evangeline or her friends.

That's what stuck with me—Evangeline flew into a rage over it.

And I knew the reason too.

It all stemmed from the humiliation she suffered at Evangeline's hands today.

This utterly impassive woman actually burned with passion in her soul.

And she was the type to hold a grudge long after suffering an insult.

Lady Solenu stared at me in disbelief before asking again.

"How do you know all this? Wait, does His Highness Arpad's spies go that deep? It's not even valuable intel."

"Why wouldn't it be valuable?"

At my words, the confused Lady Solenu looked up.

"Then what value does it have?"

"Immense value. I know what 'Rita Morgan' is capable of."

Just two years, but she'd become a legend.

If she'd started early, she could've made an even bigger name for herself.

"I'm not asking Lady Isephin Solenu. I'm asking the designer Rita Morgan."

"What... do you want?"

I picked up the fan from the table and snapped it open.

As the fan lowered from hiding my face, our eyes met.

I curved my eyes into crescents and asked,

"Wouldn't you like to design the dress for the star of the Artanus Hall ball yourself?"

"...!"

I didn't miss the tremor in her eyes.