“The Countess of Marseille, we’ve met before. And this must be Lady Galimar, and… the Count of Marseille, I presume.”

“…It’s an honor to meet you. I am Christine de Galimar.”

“Frederic de Marseille.”

Their faces reflected no joy as they greeted each other, but Charles paid no attention and continued speaking.

“Yes, it’s a pleasure. Since this ball is being co-hosted by both houses, I thought it was only polite to stop by and introduce myself.”

“…Nonsense. I should have visited you first.”

“I noticed you didn’t.”

Eve jabbed Charles in the side with her elbow. Why was he picking a fight now?

Unable to bear it any longer, Christine spoke.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure there are matters you wish to discuss. We are still in the middle of preparing for the ball, so perhaps we can catch up later?”

Despite Christine’s polite attempt to dismiss them, Charles remained unfazed, ignoring her entirely.

“Were you in the middle of picking dresses? If so, I can’t miss out on that.”

“…Arsen.”

“Why do you keep calling my name, Eve?”

“…”

Eve grit her teeth, signaling for him to leave, but Charles ignored her once again. He even went a step further, addressing the Count of Marseille.

“Wouldn’t the Count be curious about his wife’s dress, too? Why not choose it together?”

“…What? No, that’s…”

“You’ll be attending the ball, won’t you? With such a beautiful Iris by your side, I’m sure you’d feel more comfortable.”

Something in Charles’ words seemed to strike a chord with the Count, as his expression shifted.

He nodded stiffly.

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Then shall we choose the dress together?”

“…Very well.”

What were men doing interfering in a woman’s affair? Eve felt her tongue itch with the urge to speak her mind, but she held back. After all, the man in front of her wasn’t just Charles de Fontaine, but the Emperor himself.

Who could object when the Emperor chose to meddle? Of course, only Eve knew that Charles was the Emperor.

She glanced at Estelle, nervously fidgeting with her hands, while Christine’s expression was one of clear disapproval. Still, Christine couldn’t exactly lose her temper since it wasn’t her business.

And so, with the two men observing, Eve’s dress show, if it could be called that, began.

Estelle, are you alright?”

As Eve changed into a dress with Estelle’s help, she noticed her assistant looking tense in the mirror.

Estelle flinched slightly at Eve’s question.

“Oh, I’m fine…”

“You seem really nervous. Is it because of me, or is it the men outside?”

“Well, it’s just that… it’s the first time my husband will be seeing the clothes I made. He doesn’t exactly… like my hobby.”

“He didn’t seem too thrilled earlier, did he?”

Eve frowned slightly as she recalled the Count of Marseille’s earlier comment, and Estelle quickly waved her hands.

“Frederic is a good man. It’s just… I’m the one who’s lacking.”

Eve stared at Estelle for a moment. Watching her defend her husband while diminishing herself brought back memories of her own past.

After a brief pause to shake off those lingering ghosts, Eve spoke firmly.

“Honestly, I don’t think you’re lacking anything, Estelle.”

“…What?”

“Just wait and see.”

With those words, Eve pulled aside the curtain and stepped forward.

“Wow.”

The dress was a deep green, with a blend of yellow and blue hues that shimmered as the light hit it. The skirt was adorned with circular embroidery of lace and ribbons, while the bodice was elegantly detailed with matching embellishments, creating a neat yet graceful look.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It suits you well! Though it’s less extravagant than you asked for.”

“It fits better than I thought, considering it was made by eye. Just a little adjustment at the waist should do.”

Charles, Christine, and Eve each offered a comment, while only the Count of Marseille and Estelle remained silent.

Sensing the tension, Christine quickly changed the subject.

“Shall we see the next dress?”

“Let’s do that.”

The next dress was a soft sky-blue, with curved frills sewn into the hem of the skirt. White lace adorned the sleeves, giving the dress a mysterious yet clean elegance.

“It’s pretty.”

“Wow, you look like a goddess. Though the light color is lovely, I’m a bit concerned it might not stand out against Lady Girard’s preference for darker shades.”

“Christine has a point, but personally, I like it enough to keep it.”

“Th-thank you… Yvonne.”

Estelle awkwardly thanked her, and glanced at her husband, who remained silent.

Noticing the tension, Eve smoothly shifted the focus.

“What do you think, Estelle? Does this give you any inspiration?”

At her question, Estelle’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Yvonne, I think the blue shades really suit you. Your soft and delicate aura shines with lace rather than over-the-top frills. I think going for a bold, deep blue would make you stand out, without being overshadowed by anyone else’s dress.”

Estelle’s enthusiasm, almost breathless as she spoke, surprised even the Count of Marseille, who widened his eyes.

“You sound like a professional.”

Charles, sipping his tea, made a casual remark, causing Estelle to blush. The Count of Marseille glared at Charles.

“Arsen, do you even care?”

Irritated by Charles’ indifferent reaction, Eve spoke in a high-pitched voice. Charles shrugged nonchalantly.

“When it’s about you, I care more than anyone.”

“You’ve done nothing but say it’s pretty.”

“It *is* pretty. Isn’t that enough? Are you looking for more praise from me, Eve?”

Eve shook her head, exasperated. He never lost in verbal sparring. Never.

Meanwhile, the others, unaware of Charles’ true identity, thought to themselves how easily he charmed women.

“Well, we’ve seen enough of my dresses. What about you, Christine?”

Eve’s question shifted the focus. Christine awkwardly smiled and turned to Estelle.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to try on a dress in front of these gentlemen. They’re not even my husband. Estelle, why don’t you let the Count pick your dress instead?”

“Me? M-me?”

Eve nodded in agreement.

“Since they’re here with us, it only makes sense.”

Charles casually approached, asking warmly, “Do you need my opinion, Eve?”

“No, because you’ll just say it’s pretty again.”

“I have the best eye in the Empire.”

Ah, right, he *was* the Emperor. Eve hesitated for a moment, but unexpectedly, the Count of Marseille stepped forward.

“We’ll manage this ourselves.”

He stood protectively in front of Estelle. Eve frowned, sensing it was an unhealthy level of overprotection, perhaps bordering on possessiveness.

Charles also raised an eyebrow, clearly displeased. He was, after all, the Emperor. The only person he allowed to challenge him was Eve. Everyone else had to stay in their place, regardless of his current title.

“…I apologize.”

Estelle quickly stepped in, offering an apology as the tension between the two men thickened. Eve was about to intervene when Christine cut in.

“Well then, since it’s getting late, shall we wrap up for today?”

Charles glanced at Eve as if to gauge her response. Eve sighed softly and nodded.

“Yes, let’s finish for today. I’ll just change and be right back.”

“I’ll help you, Yvonne!”

Estelle followed Eve into the dressing room. Sensing her distress, Eve spoke reassuringly.

“Estelle, I’m not upset.”

“…I know. But still…”

“We can talk later, alright?”

Eve gently patted Estelle’s arm in a comforting gesture. Estelle finally nodded in relief.

Once Eve had changed and returned, Charles casually offered his arm. Eve, feeling a mixture of exasperation and resignation, placed her hand on his arm.

“Let’s go, Eve.”

“Yes. We’ll take our leave now. See you next time, everyone.”

“I’ll be off, too.”

Eve bowed slightly, and Christine quickly followed suit. Without waiting, Charles started walking ahead.

Estelle watched Charles and Eve walk side by side with a look of envy.

As Charles escorted Eve to the carriage, she suddenly spoke.

“Arsen, go ahead. I’ll ride with Christine.”

“Abandoning me, are you?”

“Don’t say it like that.”

Charles, already aware of Eve’s intentions, grinned playfully and climbed into the carriage.

“Alright. I’ll see you at home, then.”

“Yes.”

Once Charles left, Eve turned to Christine.

“Would it be alright if I join you?”

“Of course.”

Christine, having already guessed Eve’s intention, gladly made room for her in the carriage.

Eve wanted to help Estelle if there was an issue between her and the Count. Perhaps it was because Estelle reminded her of her past self, or perhaps it was because Estelle would play an important role in her future plans. Either way, Eve didn’t want to risk any complications.

“You’re worried about Estelle, aren’t you?”

Thankfully, Christine was quick to pick up on the situation, breaking the silence. Eve nodded.