LRAB Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Tristan was a pathetic supporting villain.
At least, that was his role in the original story.
A character who flaunted his natural advantages—his looks and status—without understanding that his advances could be perceived as harassment by others.
But if I were to step outside the perspective of the story’s protagonists...
Perhaps I could see a more nuanced person.
The obstacle blocking the window when viewed from inside a room might actually be a tree with its own history and roots.
Regardless, I...
"I want to know what could hurt someone like you, someone whose face seems three centimeters thick."@@@@
The carriage, which had been steadily moving forward with a clatter, soon stopped in front of the Redfield estate.
I’d planned to get out without waking Tristan, but, as if he had a sixth sense, he opened his eyes right as we arrived and prepared to disembark.
“Your Highness? Are you planning to visit the estate?”
“Why would I? Do you want me to?”
He just had to add an irritating comment.
Then he stepped out of the carriage, extending a hand to me. Oh, he was offering to help me down.
What a rollercoaster of a man.
Following his lead, I elegantly took his hand and lightly supported myself as I stepped out of the carriage.
“Thank you for today, Your Highness.”
“Of course. Anyone could tell by the number of empty plates you left behind.”
I’d expected him to spew nonsense, and he didn’t disappoint. This man was a rollercoaster that could dig all the way to the mantle.
Unfazed, I continued.
“It wasn’t just the food. It’s been a while since I reflected on what I actually enjoy.”
“You mean colors?”
“Yes.”
The first two months had been spent adjusting to the life of a lady, and the time after that was consumed by trying to follow the original plot. During all that, my only source of joy had been the primal delight of desserts.
But now...
I finally understood.
“The color I like best is the shade of the sky reflected on the lake you brought me to today.”
“...”
“I truly had a wonderful time.”
Even as I spoke kindly, I didn’t expect much in return.
Considering Tristan’s personality, he’d probably come back with something dismissive, like, ‘What do you know about lakes when you’re always holed up in your room?’
But after a brief silence, what I got wasn’t a snide comment.
Instead, I felt a firm, almost desperate grip on my hand.
A grip that felt as earnest as roots reaching for water.
Only then did I realize we were still holding hands.
“Uh... Your Highness, I should head inside now!”
Flustered, I tried to pull my hand away.
Tristan moved his hand too—but not to let go.
Instead, he raised my silk-gloved hand and pressed his lips lightly against it.
The moment of contact was brief, yet his breath and voice lingered over the back of my hand.
“...We’ll meet again, won’t we?”
“Of course! Absolutely!”
“Good.”
Tristan, still holding my hand, looked down at me for a long moment before his silver-blue eyes curved into a triumphant smile I knew all too well.
“You must be exhausted from an outing so ill-suited to you. Go inside and rest.”
Ah, there was the Tristan I knew.
At last, my hand was free. He turned his head sharply, climbed into the carriage, and didn’t look back even once.
“Oh, how proud you must be of that! Anyway, let’s look at your wardrobe. If there’s nothing suitable, we can alter one of Natalie’s dresses in a pinch—”
“No.”
Natalie’s cold voice cut in.
“Why should I give her my clothes? And if you alter them, I won’t get them back. It’s not my fault my sister is so tiny.”
“Natalie! Can’t you even spare a little generosity for your sister’s happiness?”
“I don’t know about that. If you ask Doris whether she’d prefer ‘eating caramel alone in her room’ or ‘being surrounded by ten handsome gentlemen and securing a month’s worth of dates,’ she’d pick the former without hesitation.”
Correct.
The latter sounds like something out of a ridiculous YouTuber’s social experiment. Just imagining it is terrifying.
‘Thanks for the lie, sis!’
Mother couldn’t win a verbal spar with Natalie. Running out of things to say, she shook her head.
The problem was, the countess was much more persistent when it came to me.
“Doris, let’s at least take a look at your wardrobe.”
That would reveal the dresses Natalie gave me for the Sacred Salon!
No way. Those were strictly for salon use!
Just as Mother’s hand clutched my shoulder and Natalie moved to stand in my defense, a maid approached carrying a large box.
“Madam, this arrived from Designer Aston’s atelier. It’s for Miss Doris. Did you order it?”
“Designer Aston? That can’t be right. The last time we used them was for debutante dresses.”
The maid placed the box on the table. The purple velvet box, bearing the atelier’s name, had a tag with my name on it.
Mother gasped as she saw the label.
“Oh my, it really is from Designer Aston. They don’t accept just any client. Who commissioned this?”
As Natalie and I leaned in out of curiosity, Mother opened the box.
The moment I saw the beautiful dress inside, I knew exactly who had sent it.
“Prince Tristan...?”
Dyed in a graceful blue hue, it looked as if it had been crafted from a piece of the sky and water I’d admired at the lake.
Soon, Mother discovered the card tucked beneath the dress.
“It really is. ‘From Tristan Winter Albion to his fiancée, Doris Redfield.’ Doris, did the prince say he’d send you a gift?”
“No.”
“Then how did you know it was from him?”
“...Just a feeling.”
There was nothing else I could say. It defied logic. Even I couldn’t understand why Tristan had sent this.
And yet, my heart raced with excitement.
Carefully, as if touching the first snowfall, I ran my hands over the dress. It was so soft, yet it didn’t vanish like a dream.
It was real. A gift, just for me.
Natalie let out a whistle.
“What’s gotten into the prince? Has his runaway common sense finally returned?”
Could it be? Did he come to his senses faster than he did in the original story? Is this okay?
“Mother...”
I turned to gauge the countess’s reaction. Surprisingly, her expression wasn’t as bright as I expected.
“Doris, do you think it’ll fit you?”
“Wait, let me check. Wow, it looks like it will!”
“They must have kept your debutante measurements on file at the atelier. How convenient.”
“Mother?”
“Anyway, your dress is sorted. Wear it this Saturday. We’ll go shopping for accessories in the afternoon.”
“Mother.”
“What now?”
The irritation in her voice prompted an uneasy question to rise in my mind.
“At the weekend’s party... will Prince Tristan be there?”