Inside the room were Princess Sylvia, Heidel, Jade, and Ezell, the owner of the boutique.

Ezell was kneeling on the floor with his hands clasped together as if in prayer. Jade stood before him, one hand pressed to his forehead, looking down at him with a strained expression.

Sylvia sat quietly on the sofa, with Heidel’s arm protectively around her shoulders.

As soon as Ariadne entered, she could sense the tension in the room.

A storm of emotions had clearly swept through the room and, although they all noticed her arrival, not one of them spoke.

“…Your Highness, are you all right?”

Ariadne spoke first, her voice full of concern.

Only then did the others turn their heads.

“Ah… you’re here, Rene.”

Jade was the first to acknowledge her, but he sounded distant, as if he were not fully present. Both Ariadne and Kieron stiffened at the emptiness in his tone.

They had been informed that the bridesmaid dresses were missing and that the wedding gown had been slightly damaged, could the situation really be worse than they had imagined?

If necessary, Ariadne was prepared to suggest mobilizing every boutique in the capital to remake the princess’s wedding dress from scratch.

She swallowed hard.

“What… what happened, Jade?”

She asked, but the only answer was a long, heavy sigh. Something truly serious must have happened.
Ariadne unconsciously gripped her skirt, tension knotting her shoulders as she waited for an explanation.

Then—

“It’s fine. It’s nothing serious.”

To her astonishment, he said something completely incomprehensible.

“Nothing serious? Are you saying the dress and the formalwear are all unharmed?”

Kieron, who had stayed silent while surveying the room, finally spoke. The atmosphere was in shambles—how could this possibly be “nothing serious”?

Both he and Ariadne exchanged bewildered looks.

“The wedding dress is unharmed. What was ruined were the reception dresses.”

“And the bridesmaids’ dresses really are missing.”

Sylvia spoke at last.

A moment ago, she had looked despondent in Heidel’s embrace—but now her expression had returned to calm, as if she were deliberately composing herself.

“Fortunately, the thief went into the wrong room. They destroyed two dresses I was going to wear at the reception. Thanks to that, the wedding dress I planned to wear for the ceremony is untouched, but…”

She tried so hard to sound composed, but a small sigh escaped her at the end.

Even if the wedding dress survived, two of the three outfits she had prepared for her perfect wedding had been ruined.

What woman could possibly feel okay about that?

Sympathizing with her, Ariadne stepped closer and gently squeezed her shoulder.

“It’s all right, Your Highness. They said the culprit will be caught soon.”

“Yes, that’s what they said… but with things like this happening, I’m not sure the ceremony will go smoothly…”

Sylvia let out a long, shaky breath. Sitting beside her, Heidel wore the same somber expression as he quietly comforted her.

Watching them, Ariadne felt sympathy and, to her surprise, a slight pang of envy.

At least they were marrying someone they could depend on from the outset.

This ordeal would be difficult, but they would face it together, reassuring each other and finding a way to move forward side by side.

But what if something like this had happened at her own wedding? Would Kieron have comforted her the way Heidel was doing now?

Or would he have—

Ariadne stopped herself. There was no use imagining a past that never happened. Things were good between them now, and that was enough.

Gathering her resolve, she turned her gaze to Ezell, who was still kneeling on the floor.

“How long will it take to remake the dresses?”

“If… if we work through the night until the day of the ceremony, we can finish one. But two dresses…My sincerest apologies. I’m so sorry. Truly sorry…”

Ezell lowered herself completely to the floor, bowing repeatedly. Even though the break-in wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t avoid blame for negligence in supervision, so her panic was understandable.

Ariadne looked between the heartbroken Sylvia and the gloomy-faced Heidel, then cautiously spoke.

“In that case… why not commission the other dress from a different boutique?”

“…You want to use another boutique?”

Sylvia lifted her head, surprised.

Ariadne nodded gently.

“Ezell can finish one, so we only need the second one completed on time. The important thing is meeting the deadline. Even if it costs extra, perhaps we can find someone willing to take it on?”

But Jade shook his head.

“If we do that, word will spread that Her Highness’s dress was damaged. Normally, when a boutique takes on a high-security commission, they shut their doors for a while to protect confidentiality.”

As someone well-versed in boutique operations thanks to years of studying for his father’s business, Jade insisted that handling this quietly was crucial.

“This concerns not only the boutique’s reputation, but Her Highness’s reputation as well.”

Rumors that the princess’s dress had been ruined would draw noblewomen like moths to a flame. Ariadne certainly didn’t want that.

“Which is why, we need to find a person.”

“A person?”

Jade echoed.

She smiled and nodded.

“Yes. A person. Someone who can make Her Highness’s second dress—from this boutique, not another.”

***

“So this is the dress, is it?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Lorelei had finally made her move.

Nell resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose as she stared at the dress Violet held out.

“All the dresses—were they ruined?”

“Yes, Your Highness. They said both dresses in the room were completely destroyed.”

“Good.”

Upon hearing this, Lorelei’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. For most royal weddings, brides would have at least three outfits prepared, and sometimes even five.

But Sylvia hated fuss and preferred simplicity; she was frugal by nature. Lorelei was certain that Sylvia had prepared no more than two or three dresses, including her wedding gown.

So, when she heard that two had been ruined, she could easily imagine Sylvia being left with none, or at most one, intact.

No wonder she was pleased.

“If these are the dresses, what about the formal wear? The bridesmaid dresses, did you bring those as well?”

“We did bring them, but… should we just throw them out?”

Violet asked cautiously.

Lorelei fell silent, deep in thought.

She had originally planned to steal the bridesmaid dress, but given how much things had escalated, she decided she might as well replace all of the bridesmaids.

She gestured impatiently at Violet.

“Bring them here. Who was the groom’s attendant again?”

“Young Lord Jade Derayan. They say he’s a close friend of Young Lord Peyton, the groom.”

“Is that so?”

Jade Derayan: The Derayan Count’s family had strong links with the arts, and he supported several artists. Thanks to the Count’s discerning taste, many of the painters, poets and writers he discovered went on to achieve great success.

Consequently, the family amassed an enviable fortune. If money were the only consideration, Derayan wouldn’t have been a bad match.

“Bring it. There’s no damage on it, is there?”

“No, Your Highness. There shouldn’t be. They said they handled it as carefully as possible.”

“Good. Let me see it.”

At Lorelei’s command, Violet stepped out of the room to retrieve the garments.

The moment she left, Nell, who had been quietly observing everything, released a tired sigh and finally spoke.

“Your Highness… if you do this, Princess Sylvia’s side will realize you’re behind it.”

“If they notice? So what? What exactly do you think she can do about it?”

Nell tried to offer her some advice, but Lorelei just laughed in contempt.

Whether or not they noticed made no difference to her. She was destined to become emperor. The future ruler of the entire empire.

What could a mere princess possibly do to her? A princess with no real power or proper foundation?

Lorelei looked down at Nell with scornful disdain, as if mocking her for even suggesting such a thing.

“Get ahold of yourself, Nell. I’m the one who will ascend the throne. I’m the one you should be worrying about, the one whose mood you should be watching.”

“Your Highness. I’m worried for you.”

“For me? Why? You?”

Lorelei let out a short, derisive laugh. Her expression said it all: How dare someone like you presume to worry about me? Know your place.

“Shut your mouth and do your job properly. You dragged your feet again, so I had to get involved myself.”

Then her gaze shifted—sharp, cold, and threatening.

Nell bit her lip as she faced her master.

“It’s not the right timing, Your Highness. If you truly intended to ruin things, you should have waited a little longer. I told you—”

“Shut your mouth! A lowly slave thinks she can lecture me right now?”

If the issue were addressed now, Princess Sylvia’s team would certainly suggest some alternatives. They could commission a new set of bridesmaid dresses, repair the ruined ones, or remake them entirely. A week would be more than enough time for that.

That was why Nell had tried so hard to calm Lorelei down.

Instead of listening, however, Lorelei hurled insults at her.

“Your Highness, I’ve brought the clothes.”

Violet entered with perfect timing.

Lorelei gestured for her to come inside and inspected the bridesmaid attire she carried. Then, as if struck by an idea, she twisted her lips into a crooked smile.

And said.

“Send this to Duke Ambrose first thing tomorrow morning.”