Chapter 51 - The Crown Prince's Perspective
"Hey, Louis. Finally giving up the prince gig to become a designer?"
I was arranging fabrics on the central table of the office, studying the sketches the designer had left behind, when the door swung open without a knock. Even without looking up or answering, the rhythm of the approaching footsteps brought a familiar ache to my head.
"I've told you repeatedly to knock. What would you do if someone else were here?"
"I already knew no one was here."
"Are you truly so unconventional that common sense simply doesn't apply to you?"
I set the sketches down on my desk and turned toward the sound of the footsteps. Theodore stood there, hand on his chin, peering at the drawings with intense interest.
"What's this? A dress?"
"Yes."
Theodore picked up several sketches, examining each one thoroughly before turning his gaze back to me. His face twisted as he struggled to suppress a laugh, his lips pressed into a tight line to keep from bursting out.
"What is it?"
"I mean, really? You're going this far?"
I didn't need a mirror to know my expression failed to hide my irritation. However, I saw no point in putting on a facade before this man. My reaction seemed to be the final straw for him; he let out a snort, tossed the sketches back onto the desk, and doubled over in laughter.
"Oh man, that's rich. I've got tears in my eyes," Theodore muttered, turning his back to me to sink into the central sofa.
I stood and followed him, taking the opposite seat with a heavy thud and a sharp glare.
"What's so funny?"
"I mean, it's Miss Carroll's—no, Miss Rachel's dress, right? Not only are you arranging it, you're actually coming up with the design yourself. Who would ever imagine the great Louis doing something like that?"
"...Is it truly that strange?"
"Think about it. You can't be by her side for her social debut, so you want her to wear something you gave her. You believe that whatever she wears must make her shine brighter than anyone else. So you figured, 'Why not just do it myself?' How did you even reach such a crazy conclusion?"
He was partially mistaken, but he had the gist of it.
It started with the desire to gift her a dress. A white dress was something worn for a debutante ball or a wedding. I admit, for a fleeting moment, the image of a future wedding crossed my mind—one where I stood right beside her.
But this was different.
The social season appeared glamorous, but in reality, it was a whirlpool of malice. I wanted to give Rachel, who was just stepping into that world, the strength to navigate a brilliant future and the power to shield her from the ill will of others. I wanted to be the one supporting her.
That was why I had commissioned a designer for a dress that would suit her, but none of the concepts matched my vision. I simply wondered if I could design the perfect dress for her myself with the help of an expert. It wasn't as if I were harboring suspicious thoughts.
"Right, right. So, what's the problem?"
"...Can I actually rely on you?"
"Who knows? Just spit it out."
Theodore shrugged, gesturing with his chin for me to continue.
Even I had to start by learning the current trends to understand dresses. Theodore, on the other hand, spent his days in the uniform of the Order of Mages; I couldn't imagine him having any interest in or eye for fashion.
Then again, if asked if I had anyone else to consult... I didn't. Cyril had given me a look of profound exasperation when he found out, warning me not to bring him any more trouble.
It couldn't be helped. I didn't expect him to be useful, but I was genuinely stuck.
"What do you think of this design?"
"Hmm, it feels like Miss Rachel. It's mature, and it looks like it would highlight her figure well. But this embroidery at the hem... you specified gold?"
"That part is non-negotiable."
"Then it's fine, isn't it?"
"...It's too open."
"Huh? I didn't catch that."
"The neckline is too open! Like this!"
That was the source of my agony. I had concluded that the dress best suited for Rachel was something mature that emphasized her silhouette. It would look good on her—there was no doubt about that. She was tall for a woman, with fair skin and jet-black hair. A white dress would draw out her mystical aura to its absolute limit.
A simple A-line dress with a wide décolletage and a cinched waist was the strongest candidate. But was it truly acceptable? If she wore this, other men would be staring at her exposed chest. Expecting me to tolerate that was impossible. Yet the designer remained stubborn, insisting that an open shoulder and chest were the best choices.
I let out a long, heavy sigh.
"I can drive away the pests, of course. But I can't eliminate their gazes. And this is Rachel we're talking about. It's obvious she'll draw everyone's attention, isn't it?"
"Yeah... sorry. That's a much more pathetic problem than I expected."
Theodore's eyes went distant for a moment, his expression screaming that he couldn't care less. He rummaged through the fabric samples the designer had left and pulled out a piece of lace.
"Just use this to cover her from the neck to the arms. Problem solved."
He was being so flippant about my concerns. And yet... lace. It was so simple I hadn't even considered it. On second thought, it might be a brilliant idea.
"I see... in that case..."
I returned to the desk to finalize the image in my mind, sketching additions onto the design. Behind me, Theodore waved a hand, asking if I'd forgotten he was there, but I didn't have the luxury of paying him any mind. I had to call the designer back immediately.
Still...
I looked up from the desk and gazed out the window at the distant blue sky and scattered white clouds. A sudden wave of anxiety washed over me. I was doing exactly what I wanted, but what would Rachel think of my actions? I hope she's happy about it.
I had told her I was gifting her a dress, but if she found out I was involved in the design, she might find it creepy. Actually, anyone would probably be creeped out.
The realization made me turn pale. This was bad. I wanted her to be happy, but I had to avoid making her feel disgusted at all costs. I felt like we were finally closing the distance between us; I didn't want to see her pull away now.
...I would hide it. This was a dress designed by a top-tier professional. That wasn't a lie, technically. I just wouldn't mention my involvement. Omission wasn't a sin.
I settled on that conclusion and continued my work. By the time I noticed, Theodore was gone. In his place, Cyril entered, a vein throbbing in his temple as he slammed a stack of documents onto the desk and told me to get back to work.
Thank you for the bookmarks, ratings, comments, and typo reports.
I took a break yesterday, but I hope to continue daily updates from today. I'll do my best to keep the story enjoyable, so I'd be happy if you stick with me!
Also, I might have just wanted to bring Theodore out after a while... Now, how will Rachel react?