Was it just her imagination? Eve felt her breathing become constricted, but she nodded her head lightly. Soon, Charles began fixing her disheveled hair. Despite seeming careless about his own appearance, his touch was surprisingly delicate.

Eve tried her best to stay still as his fingers brushed through her hair, though her body instinctively wanted to flinch. Perhaps she had hit her head when she fell, as images of Charles’s real face from the previous night kept resurfacing in her mind.

“I’m not skilled enough to restore your hair to its original style, so I’ve tied it up simply.”

Eve glanced at her reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t a style she’d worn since her marriage, but it didn’t look bad at all. Meanwhile, Charles had returned to the table and sat, resting his chin on his hand.

“It looks natural. Not that I have the right to say this, but women in this country are too caught up in formalities.”

“Well, that’s how it was during the former emperor’s reign. Women are the trendsetters in society, and since there’s no central figure leading the trends, the old ones have persisted.”

“A central figure… So you’re saying it’s because I don’t have an empress or a consort.”

“That’s how it usually works. I wasn’t blaming you.”

Eve glanced at Charles as she said this. When their eyes met, he smiled and said,

“I’m not interested in other women.”

“…I know.”

“You’re the exception. Remember that.”

What did he mean by that? Eve hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

Luckily, Charles quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway, we need more practice for the waltz.”

“It’s just because it’s been a while.”

“That’s why we need to practice.”

Feeling a little defensive, Eve mirrored his posture, resting her chin on her hand.

“And what about you? How’s your plan to become a ‘good lord’ going?”

“It’s just starting. But you know, the beginning is half the battle.”

“You sound confident.”

“Well, I’ve had articles written about me as a wise ruler before.”

“And now, articles are calling you a playboy and a scoundrel.”

Their gazes locked in midair.

After a moment of silent tension, it was Charles who looked away first. He shrugged with a smile.

“When things get tough, I’ll ask for help. After all, you’re the one in charge of the Fontaine estate.”

Eve’s eyes widened at his words. For her, asking for help had always felt like a sign of weakness. But Charles didn’t seem weak at all. On the contrary, it felt like he was offering her something.

‘Is it his inherent confidence? Or maybe…’

Her thoughts were interrupted by Charles’ next words.

“So, you should call on me when you need help, too. We’re contract spouses, aren’t we?”

“What? How can I ask for help in a contract marriage…?”

“Focus on the ‘spouse’ part. As long as our contract lasts, I’m your husband. Is it wrong for a wife to ask her husband for help?”

Eve was momentarily speechless. She had never asked Arsen for help—if anything, she had given it. She had never even thought of receiving help from him.

It had always been that way. She stood firm on her own, isolated and weary.

“Call me when you need help.” It was the first time someone outside her family had ever said that to her.

“…A fake husband is better than the real one,” Eve muttered, furrowing her brows at the strange feeling. Charles chuckled.

“Only realizing that now?”

“Unbelievable.”

Eve scoffed at his brazen attitude. Such a strange man. But…

“Alright. I’ll ask for help when I need it.”

In the end, Eve felt like she always lost when it came to him.

<b>* * *</b>

A few days later, Eve and Estelle were working together, planning the upcoming ball. Next to them, Lady Galimar was happily munching on an apple.

“Where should we hold it?”

“The Fontaine mansion is larger and more centrally located in the capital, so that seems best. However, that means we lose the chance to introduce Iris’ estate. Are you and Count Marseille okay with that?”

“I’m fine with it. As for him… he doesn’t really care about what I do.”

“Huh?”

Estelle quickly waved her hands at Eve’s questioning look.

“Oh, it’s nothing! Don’t worry about it. He’ll approve.”

Lady Galimar shot Estelle a disapproving glance but said nothing, taking another bite of her apple. Sensing that it wasn’t something Estelle wanted to discuss, Eve  let the matter drop. After all, everyone had things they preferred to keep to themselves.

‘Still… it does make me curious.’

Eve thought to herself as she observed Estelle, who was clearly uncomfortable. Estelle called out to her, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Yvonne?”

“Oh, sorry. What were we talking about?”

“We were discussing using wine from the Fontaine estate for the ball. Should we take a break if you’re tired?”

“No, I’m fine.”

As Eve shook her head, Lady Galimar suddenly interjected.

“No way. You should take it easy. You two are working too hard. Do you realize how much excitement there is already just from the two of you hosting this ball together?”

“I saw it in the papers. But that’s why we have to make it perfect—no one will be able to criticize us.”

“Let me tell you something. People don’t like things that are too perfect. No matter how flawless the ball is, someone will find fault with it.”

Lady Galimar wasn’t wrong. With Cecilia attending, it was inevitable that she would try to stir up trouble. After all, this was the same woman who had tried to take Eve’s dress off in public. Normal noble etiquette didn’t apply to someone like her.

Eve looked at Lady Galimar with new appreciation. She was known as an ‘outsider’ among nobles, partly because she had declared she would never marry. Her father, the Marquis of Galimar, was so furious that he publicly stated he wouldn’t pass down his title to her.

But she didn’t care. Instead, she started a successful trading business, earning enough wealth to live comfortably for the rest of her life. And when she’d had enough, she quit, simply to enjoy herself.

Lady Galimar—no, Christine—had an exceptional eye for business, and her intuition told her that Duchess Fontaine wasn’t just any noblewoman. She believed that Eve would stir up something exciting in the future.

‘This should be fun.’

“Estelle, why don’t you show the Duchess your work while we take a break?” Christine suggested.

Estelle flinched.

“M-My work?”

“Oh, yes. You mentioned your embroidery.”

Eve pushed the papers and pens aside, curious to see what Estelle had made. With everyone’s attention on her, Estelle’s face turned crimson.

“Well…”

“Estelle makes clothes.”

“Clothes?”

“She decorates fabrics with embroidery, but lately, there’s been so much beautifully patterned fabric thanks to advancements in dyeing. I’ve made quite a bit of money from it. Anyway, Estelle is very skilled.”

Intrigued, Eve looked at Estelle. While it wasn’t common for nobles to make clothes, Eve wasn’t one to judge. Especially if Christine vouched for Estelle’s talent, she was eager to see her work.

“Did you make the dress you’re wearing?”

“Oh, no. I don’t make my own clothes.”

“Then…”

As Estelle fell silent, realization dawned on Eve.

“You mean… my clothes?”

“Yes… But I also make Christine’s clothes sometimes.”

Estelle quickly added, but Eve still looked puzzled.

“We weren’t even close before. Why would you make clothes for someone you didn’t know?”

Estelle hung her head, and Christine answered in her stead.

“That’s what it means to be a muse. She was truly smitten with you.”

“…What part of me—”

“Oh, don’t ask. She’ll go on all day.”

Eve glanced at Estelle, who was now red to her neck, and quickly apologized.

“I’m sorry, Estelle. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just surprised.”

“No, it’s fine. I know it’s a bit overwhelming…”

“It’s not that. I just…”

For so long, Eve had believed she was utterly alone. What if Estelle had been part of her life before? Could things have been different?

‘I might have felt like someone truly cared for me…’

Pushing those bitter thoughts aside, Eve smiled.

“I’m really curious now. I’d love to see your work.”

“I-Is it okay if I show you just one dress? I made it after the tea party at Lady Girard’s…”

“I’d love to see it.”

Estelle, clearly excited, rushed off, practically glowing as she ran. Christine laughed at her, then turned to Eve.

“Please, feel free to call me Christine. Estelle and I are usually together, so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. It’s easier that way.”

“Oh… Then please call me Yvonne.”

“You’re bold. Estelle will be jealous when she hears.”

Christine teased with a laugh, and Eve found herself smiling as well.

Since her return, Eve had struggled to trust people, but she didn’t feel the usual wariness around Estelle or Christine. Maybe it was their straightforward nature. She found herself almost envying their close bond.

As Eve mused on this, Estelle came rushing back with the dress. She held it up with a shy smile.

“This is the dress I made, Yvonne. It’s far from perfect, but…”

Eve turned to look at it absentmindedly, then her eyes widened.

The dress… It wasn’t something that should exist here.