Chapter 123

Chapter 123

Proofreader: somnium

Miraila turned over the entire dressing room and made sure there was no new fabric before she left.

Fortunately, there were no more injured workers.

Emily hasn’t been experiencing this just once or twice. As soon as she realized it was impossible for her to calm Miraila, she gave her everything she wanted.

Miraila has overturned all the clothes drawers and even the bins for storing all sorts of things.

When Miraila finally left the store like a storm had passed, it was as if she had been carrying a gang of thieves.

“Sigh, really, that’s awful, the Dowager.”

One of the employees said in a tired voice. Wondering how long it would take to put this all together.

Emily said in a low voice.

“Still, not many people were injured, so you should think of it as a good thing. It’s not the first time it’s happened.”

“It’s really too much. What kind of slaves are we? Her daughter, Grand Duchess Evron, is a decent person.”

“The Dowager, it can’t be helped.”

Emily didn’t want to sympathize with Miraila, but she still had to say so.

The chief seamstress under Emily sighed.

 

“It reminds me of the past. Previously, the Dowager had humiliated Her Majesty with her clothes.”

“How?”

The younger worker asked with eyes wide open.

“That must have been 25 years ago. It was before Sir Lawrence was born. For the ball, which Her Majesty attended, she went in with five courtesans, all dressed in identical clothes with the ladies-in-waiting.

“Wow. That’s bold.”

“And she herself wore luxurious clothes similar to the Empress’ clothes, but much more expensive.”

“If the Dowager Marchioness Rosan wears clothes similar to that of Her Majesty the Empress, and stands in the same room….”

The worker said, “Wow”. Emily let out a sigh.

“The Empress is no ordinary woman, and she ripped off the clothes of the courtesans on the spot, leaving only her underwear behind.”

“And the Dowager Marchioness Rosan? I guess His Majesty the Emperor wasn’t present.”

“Even in the absence of His Majesty the Emperor, she is still the Marchioness of Rosan, if you do that, the Marquisate of Rosan will have a problem. Instead, Viscountess Pescher took a knife and tore her skirt.”

“Oh my gosh.”

The employees sighed.

Emily said sadly.

“They said no red flower stays red for ten days*, who would have imagined that it would be like this just last year?”

 

“I know, right? I think it was just yesterday that I first went to tailor the clothes for Her Grace, Grand Duchess Evron.”

“You reap what you sow. I’m not sorry at all. How much of a horrible mother must she be that both of her son and daughter would abandon their mother?”

One of the workers said sulking.

“When are you going to put all this away?”

“I hope you get used to it.”

The chief designer lamented.

“The Dowager Marchioness of Rosan is exceptional, but she’s not the only one.”

“Let’s take a break and clean up.”

Emily sighed and lowered her head.

***

Miraila sat in the carriage and closed her eyes.

After she poured out her anger and exploded all fury at once, it now seemed rather chilly and empty in her stomach.

Miraila lowered her head. Then tears fell.

She would go into a state of extreme anger or agitation, and then she would go into depression again and again.

But she had never in the last few decades shed tears at any time every day like in the past few months.

More often than not, Miraila was not even conscious of the tears flowing. She thought her tears had long since dried up.

She was very tired. She couldn’t even understand what made her so angry.

Emily couldn’t have gotten it no matter how talented she was, as she said the Iantz Kingdom wouldn’t supply the fabric.

It was clear that she probably wouldn’t be able to get it even if she talked directly to the owner of the large cloth merchant.

And what does it mean for her to get the fabric and make the most beautiful dress in the world?

Even Miraila knew that. Even if she held a more glamorous and grander banquet at the palace on the same day as the Empress’ birthday celebration, it wouldn’t make much sense for her to become the main character.

After Lawrence grew up, Miraila had never received a birthday present.

It was only when he was very young that he brought things such as flowers. It would not be an exaggeration to say that he himself hadn’t prepared the gift as the tutor took care of it.

Does she really know her own birthday? She would only have known when the Emperor gave her a birthday present or threw a party.

‘Bad boy.’

Lawrence was the only thing Miraila had brought out into the world to be praised as valuable.

But instead of being proud, she always felt sorry for Lawrence.

She was sorry that she gave birth to the Emperor’s son but not a Prince. She was sorry that she gave birth to an indecent body.

Of course, he is a precious body that should be the crowned prince, but she was sorry that she couldn’t do it because she had flaws.

She wanted to raise him well. She loved him.

So he could do anything.

She didn’t ask him to do anything he disliked, she let him do whatever he liked.

She could give it even if it cost her life. Miraila could do anything to restore Lawrence’s original and proper rights that he should have.

She thought Lawrence would recognize that feeling, too.

‘They said there was no use in raising a son.’

Still, she knew that only Lawrence was different.

Miraila leaned her exhausted neck back.

The frightened maid looked at her fidgety. And she asked in a voice as low as a mosquito.

“Madam.”

“What?”

“Where…… Would you like to go?”

The coachman was too cautious to ask. So the carriage stood still for a long time.

Miraila thought with an empty mind. Will she go to the Imperial Palace? But she had nothing to do there.

Those in power who had been with Miraila moved around Lawrence, following the natural course.

And now that Lawrence has turned his back on her, a proper line was drawn for Miraila, now courteous servants and court lady.

Come to think of it, they’ve never been on Miraila’s side. They were merely a force to defend the Emperor’s favorite son.

The Emperor would welcome her, but meeting him didn’t make much difference. Even if she was treated badly in the dressing room, the Emperor would only talk about comforting her with empty words or asking if he would pay for the dressing room.

The Emperor was well acquainted with the petty battles for power through clothes and accessories.

But after he established authority as Emperor, he pretended not to know. This is because it is a fight that has to be fought in order to be seen by the Emperor, and it is not something that the Emperor can interfere with.

Miraila had few friends who could truly be called friends.

It was not that there was no one by her side. But for the most part, they were just a bunch of flattering people.

And as they had wanted to come to Miraila’s banquet not so long ago, they were wondering if they could get a good position at the Empress’ birthday party this time.

“Let’s go home.”

In the end, it was the only place to go.

Miraila returned to the Rosan mansion with a hellish mood.

“Welcome back, how have you been?”

The butler politely bowed his head. Miraila waved her hand roughly. She wanted to take off her makeup and rest.

Had it been the dead Bill, he would have noticed that Miraila was in a bad mood.

He would have been able to relax her mind by talking to her friendlily, flattering her, and preparing things to make her feel better.

But this butler didn’t. As a butler, he did what he had to do and was asked to do perfectly, but he never took the initiative to do what he was not told to do. There was no such thing as talking without purpose.

The job went flawlessly. The mansion has been perfectly maintained. The house was more pleasant and beautiful than it had been in Bill’s management.

But Miraila thought the butler was like a housekeeping machine.

And she thought that her entitlement would be ignored because this man despised her.

The reason she didn’t change him was because it was the Emperor’s attendant who sent the butler.

She also had reasons to find him difficult to trust. Miraila was now tired and struggling to find and compare people as actively as she did in her youth.

Miraila thinks that these days this house is no different from the house she lived in when she was a child.

The house was a mansion with a long history. However, as there was no employee, weeds grew up to the thighs in the garden, and thieves ripped up the wallpaper, making it a waste of money.

The butler said.

“You have a guest.”

“Guest?”

Miraila tilted her head because no one was supposed to come.

“Belmond Family’s Hazel.”

“The Lady?”

The Belmond family knew Miraila.

The Belmond family had a total of three newspapers, and several other magazines that Miraila was not familiar with. Belmond Coffee House was famous as a gathering place for the capital’s intellectuals.

Chancellor Lin occasionally contributed columns to the Belmond newspaper.

On the other hand, even the most sensational scandal sheet in the capital belonged to the Belmond family.

Yellow Belmond used to bring vivid descriptions of Miraila’s worn heels or the decorations on her head.

Even Miraila saw Yellow Belmond. There were times when she burst into anger at some content and turned the newspaper upside down, and on other days, deliberately threw out articles at them.

She wears a wide-brimmed hat to make portraits easier, and she once sat for a long time on the balcony of a salon.

The Emperor’s government and gossip were in a symbiotic relationship. When Lawrence got to read it, he drew a line to keep it from being too harsh.

However, in any case, if it was the daughter of the Belmond family, she would have been a well-bred daughter of a wealthy family, even if she was not a noble of a traditional family.

Even though she was young, Miraila doesn’t know why she came to see her.

If it were the Lady, she wouldn’t have met the Belmond family lady one on one. If it’s Mrs. Belmond, she doesn’t know. Especially when she is in such a sad mood.

But Miraila decided to meet Hazel. Because she thought Hazel might have been sent by Artizea.

Even Miraila knew that the daughters of influential families were helping to prepare for the Empress’ birthday party.

When she entered the parlor, Hazel jumped to her feet. And she politely bowed her head.

“Thank you for meeting me, Dowager Marchioness Rosan. My name is Hazel.”

“You don’t have to be so polite.”

Miraila motioned for her to sit down.

Hazel expressed her gratitude with a tense attitude and sat down.

Hazel had no feelings for Miraila. Miraila may not remember, but it was she who was beaten by Miraila a few times as she protected Artizea.

However, Hazel was the kind of person who could put it aside when she was curious about things.

“Thank you for meeting me despite my sudden visit. It may be rude to visit today, but I have something to ask Dowager.”

“What is it?”

“May I know where the necromancer, whom Dowager had been keeping a guest for a while, went?”

At Hazel’s question, Miraila bit her mouth.

—

Note:

*) No flower stays red for 10 days (화무십일홍): The Chinese version was ‘there is no person that has 1,000 good days in a row and no flower stays red for 100 days’. The proverb means that nothing good lasts forever, all good things must come to an end.\n