* * *

It had been about fifteen days since she had returned from the Sevan estate. Although self-loathing had plagued Martian for some time, she was beginning to feel relieved that nothing had happened afterwards.

She still felt a little guilty for teasing the Duke’s eldest son so crudely, talking about “holes” and whatnot, but honestly, some of the blame lay with him as well. Martian decided to look on the bright side.

“What exactly happened at the banquet?”

The butler, who still didn’t know the whole story, kept pestering them with questions. Martian brushed him off lightly and looked at the clothes laid out in front of her.

These were clothes that had been specially tailored. They had been old-fashioned, but made of fine material, and now they had been completely transformed. Many of them had even been dyed in fashionable new colours.

“Well? Doesn’t it look even better when I wear it?”

She asked the butler as she put on a coat. It was a joking remark, meant to divert the conversation, but the butler replied with a straight face.

“But of course, my lady. Frankly, I think it’s you who should be paid, not the other way around. Even ordinary clothes look luxurious when you wear them.”

“Hey, don’t say that to people. It’s embarrassing enough.”

Martian sighed as she spoke.

The butler was loyal, but that often made him incapable of being objective – like when he had tried to set her up with Huey Sebloard before.

She frowned slightly.

After all, she had gotten involved with Huey – just not in the way she had hoped.

A wave of self-reproach swept over her, but it quickly faded with the butler’s next words.

“My lady, I speak only the truth. Even in the capital, where nobility abounds and prestige runs deep, who else at your age holds a title and oversees an estate of this scale? Truly, I…”

“Yes, yes, butler. I get it. I appreciate the compliment. But whoever I marry has to be someone who can support me – someone who won’t be overwhelmed by my position. So don’t even think about someone from a family that’s too prestigious.”

“When it comes to work, if you have enough capable employees, everything can be managed. Especially in a profitable area like Sevan, it’s easier to hire good people…”

“Please, butler, no Huey Sebloard. Absolutely not.”

At these firm words, the butler’s face stiffened in displeasure.

Ignoring him, Martian turned her attention back to the newly altered cape. Gone was the overly feminine silhouette.

In its place, intricate lace had been added, maintaining a sense of luxury without being too delicate.

The dark lace, which matched the colour of the cloak, gave it a sophisticated rather than overly feminine look.

Since Martian, who had inherited her father’s tall stature, didn’t fit into overly feminine clothing, this new style suited her much better.

“These clothes are really worth their price.”

She doubted she would have many opportunities to wear such elaborate outfits in the future, but the craftsmanship was still impressive. As she admired it, the butler spoke again from beside her.

“Would you consider visiting the capital for the upcoming Blessing Festival? It coincides nicely with the graduation of the Imperial Academy, so you could stay longer to congratulate young Lord El Doan as well.”

Martian chuckled at the transparent suggestion.

The Blessing Festival was a series of grand balls hosted by the Imperial Family, a time when nobles of marriageable age gathered to find potential mates.

The butler was clearly hoping to find a marriage candidate there. She shrugged the cloak off and handed it to him.

“No way. That would be a disaster.”

“A disaster? What do you mean?”

“Come on. How many women my age have titles and look like this?

They’ll all rush at me and try to push me down.”

“P-push you down – my lady, what an indecent thing to say!”

“What’s so indecent about it? You must know that when a ball is in full swing, even the terraces are crowded. Some even sneak into the gardens.”

The butler was speechless at her bluntness. Martian took the opportunity to continue.

“So I’ll just stay home and behave myself.”

She almost laughed at the absurdity of her own words. Even if she stayed here, she would undoubtedly end up sneaking out to Dalbamga Street in search of someone she liked.

The truth was, Martian simply found the idea of going to the capital tiresome – dealing with other nobles, rebuffing men who courted her simply because of her looks – it was all just exhausting.

The butler let out a sigh that sounded almost like a muffled groan.

“My lady… I truly believe the time has come for you to seriously consider choosing a husband.”

“I know. I must marry – if only for the sake of an heir.”

At these words, the butler’s face immediately brightened.

Martian added casually.

“If there’s a man who listens well, is a bit naughty at night and is full of charm, I’ll marry him. I’m serious.”

The butler sighed.

Martian’s answer hadn’t changed in five years. What she meant was clear: there was no such man, so don’t even try to set her up.

When a noble has a title and a household, it’s typical to marry early and have children early – the most common way to ensure an heir.

Now in her late twenties, Martian was well past the usual marriageable age. The butler feared that if they continued to waste time, a far less suitable man might end up at her side.

Martian was well aware of these concerns – and also knew that it would be almost impossible to find someone the Butler would find acceptable.

“I know what you’re worried about. I plan to solve the problem of an heir before my early thirties, so don’t stress too much.”

“You promise? You promise me, my lady.”

The butler replied desperately, as if clinging to a straw. Martian gave a small nod and turned her attention back to the clothes laid out before her.

As she admired the elegant use of lace, a thought occurred to her:

It would be nice if she had some racy lingerie to dress Ron in. If she dressed him in something made of white lace, wouldn’t he look more like a blushing bride?

‘Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea for his birthday gift this year.’

When Martian smiled to herself at this thought, the butler made a sour face. Whenever she smiled like that, it usually meant she was thinking of something outrageous.

With a heavy sigh, the butler began to fold the clothes. They were all luxurious, perfect for her. He couldn’t help but think:

‘How wonderful it would be if she always wore such fine clothes.’

He remembered the day she had dressed so perfectly -when she had gone to the Sevan estate to attend a congratulatory banquet.

She had looked so magnificent, so breathtaking, that the butler had almost cried with emotion.

Even the most distinguished sons of great dukedoms, he believed, would be speechless before her.

The ageing butler really thought so.

‘That young lord from the duke’s household—he must be blind or something. How could he not say a single word to our lady? What on earth was he thinking?’

Martian had explained that there had been hundreds of guests at the banquet and that it had been difficult to see the Count at close quarters.

Still, the butler found it difficult to accept. Even in a crowd of four or five hundred, Martian would have stood out—radiant and impossible to miss. To him, it was clear: this nobleman simply lacked all sense and discernment.

Silently, he fumed at a man he had never even met.

‘This coming Blessing Festival, I’ll make sure she goes to the capital in these clothes.’

With this determination on his wrinkled face, the butler steeled himself.