Chapter 47

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: Engaged to the Blind Duke
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“All the western nobles.”

“Yes, understood.”

Sebas the butler replied with a face slightly drained by the unexpectedly large number.

The head maid listening to the conversation bowed her head even deeper to hide her surprised expression.

“You may leave.”

“Yes, Your Grace the Duke.”

Only after the two had left the study did Marin exhale the breath she’d been holding.

“Prepare for going out by noon tomorrow.”

“Going out?”

“To avoid suspicion, we need some public activity.”

“Ah, a date?”

His shoulders twitched at the word “date,” but Marin didn’t notice.

“Let’s start at that shop where we had the dress made last time.”

Marin pictured the dress shop overflowing with ribbons and ruffles alongside the duke, swallowing a laugh.

A dress shop and the duke. They were astonishingly mismatched.

“Yes, Your Grace. But... there’s one problem.”

The duke nodded as if to say, speak.

“You probably already know, Your Grace, but I can’t ride in carriages.”

The duke, who had even investigated her family, must have guessed the reason.

“...How bad is it?”

Unlike his usual tone, he hesitated. Leaning slightly toward her, he seemed to be gauging her reaction.

“When I get into a closed carriage, it feels like I’m trapped, so it’s really scary.”

Marin closed her eyes with a bitter expression.

The neighing of a horse echoed in her ears. Red blood flashed before her eyes, and Marin snapped hers open.

“I see.”

To shake off the painful memory, Marin hurriedly shared her idea.

“So, may I go ahead on horseback and meet you at Bloria Dress Shop? People won’t pay me any mind if I’m not with you, Your Grace.”

“Do that.”

With his permission, Marin felt a little relieved. She knew she’d have to ride in a carriage someday, but she wanted to delay it as long as possible.

Then, the duke pulled a sheet of paper from his desk drawer and held it out to her.

Fiance Employment Contract.

Marin skimmed the densely packed clauses and checked only the amount.

10 gold per day.

Marin’s eyes sparkled brightly.

Endless possibilities with this money filled her mind. She needed to save up quickly, buy land in a good spot, build a house, hire a maid or so...

“Aren’t you going to sign?”

The duke’s cool voice yanked her from her daydreams.

“Yes! I will! I am!”

Marin quickly signed the contract.

“From today on, I’ll work hard as your fiancee!”

She clenched her fists tight and declared it energetically.

“Excellent attitude.”

“Then I’ll visit at bedtime. I’ll take my leave now.”

Marin bowed to the duke and left the study with excited steps.

***

***

The large glass windows of Bloria Dress Shop always displayed new dresses for each season.

But this time, they were swamped with orders from the Duke’s Castle and hadn’t made any new seasonal pieces.

They couldn’t dress the mannequins in last season’s dresses either, so they’d temporarily fitted them with ones meant for Marin.

Idre hummed a tune as she straightened the ruffles on the golden dress draped over a mannequin, then turned around.

Her assistant Juri watched her with a look of wonder.

“Designer, you’ve seemed in such a great mood lately.”

“What’s there to feel bad about? I have a patron—no, client—who trusts me enough to let me work freely, and the lady who tries on the dresses is so kind.”

Idre said it with laughter in her voice.

“Who on earth are they? Why’s it such a secret even from me?”

Juri was a commoner Idre had hired as her assistant since opening Bloria.

“Secret.”

Idre’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she headed into the workshop.

“Wow! You really...”

Ding-a-ling.

The bell hanging on the door rang, and Juri cut herself off, heading to the entrance.

“Welcome.”

A cute woman entered, with an elegant platinum blonde updo, fresh light-green eyes, and pale pink lips.

“Oh! Miss Marin!”

Idre emerged from the workshop at the sound of a customer and brightened upon spotting Marin.

“Hello, Designer.”

“What brings you here? You should’ve called if you needed something.”

Unlike her usual demeanor with customers, Idre greeted her with exaggerated enthusiasm, so Juri eyed the newcomer with brimming curiosity.

The subtle sheen of the customer’s blue dress drew the eye, along with its white embroidery—the very piece Juri had stayed up all night stitching just days ago.

Juri’s brown eyes widened as she stared piercingly at the secret customer Idre had kept hidden all this time.

“I have a dress I need to request urgently.”

“I’m already making one for you, Miss Marin. And you need more?”

Idre couldn’t hide her delight, the corners of her mouth twitching upward.

“Yes. Please prioritize this one over the others.”

“Oh my! What kind of dress is it that you need it so urgently?”

Marin’s cheeks flushed faintly.

For the first time, telling someone outside her family about her engagement felt strangely embarrassing.

“It’s...”

Bang!

Just as she parted her lips, someone kicked open the shop door.

Startled by the noise, Marin’s shoulders shot up, then settled.

“Who’s the designer here?”

A plump middle-aged noblewoman with scarlet hair piled high like a three-tier cake stormed in alongside a beautiful young noblewoman with reddish-orange hair and deep pink eyes.

“Miss Marin, one moment.”

Idre shot Marin an apologetic, flustered glance before stepping forward.

Marin nodded faintly and quietly retreated.

“Hello. I’m Idre Smill, the designer of this shop. What can I do for you?”

The middle-aged noblewoman flung the light-pink dress to the floor in clear displeasure.

“How do you even run a business, making and selling dresses out of such shoddy fabric?”

Idre calmly picked up the fallen light-pink dress. One glance confirmed it was her design.

“This is one of my dresses.”

“Hmph. Bought it here—of course it’s from this place.”

“But what seems to be the problem?”

***

“Our beautiful daughter wore that dress to a tea party and ended up humiliated. How badly must you make them? Tsk tsk. How do you plan to take responsibility?”

Inspecting the light-pink dress, Idre saw the waistline seam had torn messily—not from wear, but as if snagged on something sharp.

Idre gripped the light-pink dress tightly and eyed the young noblewoman.

The young noblewoman met her gaze and smiled sweetly, as if to provoke.

“I don’t recall selling my dress to you, miss.”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t shop at dumps like this. Didn’t you just admit you made that dress?”

The middle-aged noblewoman’s eyes narrowed sharply.

Idre swallowed a sigh and addressed the young noblewoman.

“Miss, I clearly told you this dress didn’t suit you and refused to sell it to you. I recommended another instead. I remember your friend buying this one—so why did you wear it?”

“This is absurd. What do you think you’re doing?”

The middle-aged noblewoman cut in.

“I’m saying I didn’t sell this dress to your daughter.”

“I bought it from my friend. So it’s mine.”

The young noblewoman declared haughtily.

“Truly low-class. Not even worth dealing with.”

Mother and daughter berated Idre in unison.

Idre barely choked back the curses tickling her throat. These nightmare customers showed up once or twice a year.

She’d thought they’d dodge them this year.