Is Wearing Underwear Also Part of a Noble Lady's Refinement…?

Is draping underwear over oneself also part of a noble lady's education, I ask…?

“With someone you met for the first time today? And besides, do you even know my name?”

“Would it not be Baek Dan-ah? There is no conceivable way I would remain ignorant of the name of the very neighbor whose dwelling adjoins mine, I'll have you know.”

“You heard it from Sangcheol, didn't you?”

“Something along those lines. You see, I am that very Sangcheol―”

“Spare me that absurd nonsense and tell me your actual name.”

It seemed she still couldn't make heads or tails of the situation, but anyone so solicitously concerned about my former self was, for a commoner, an attitude after my own heart—so I magnanimously decided to let it pass.

“As for my name, you may address me as 'Rosetta' for the time being. And the contract I propose is precisely this.”

With a single flick of my hand, a translucent signature form shimmered into being, its cerulean glow ringed in gold.

“Swear your loyalty beneath my name. That is, if you truly wish to see your neighbor returned to you unharmed.”

Dan-ah bit her lip and stared hard at the oath. One glance told anyone it was no ordinary contract, and her hesitation was written plainly across her face.

“Haah… Fine. But you'd better keep your promise. You'll bring Sangcheol back to me—without letting a single hair on his head be harmed…”

In the end she trembled like a leaf in the wind, and then laid her palm atop the line of assent.

Something about those sorrowful eyes of hers sent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a strange shiver crawling up my spine, and a sadistic, decadent thrill began smoldering quietly within me.

A part of me wanted to torment her a little more… wait, what on earth am I thinking? I gave my own cheeks a brisk double slap.

And then, the moment the contract sealed itself—

A curious current of pins and needles raced down my spine, like an invisible thread stretching taut between soul and soul. The rhythm of her heartbeat and the ripples of her emotion drifted faintly up through my fingertips.

Reading over the notification windows, it appeared that winning someone over through charm and persuasion rather than brute coercion counted for a great deal. Regardless—after languishing at F-rank, I had finally leapt a full step up to E.

A quiet swell of pride rose in me over the diligence that had proven my refinement.

“Status window?”

At my expectant murmur, a pane of cerulean light unfurled brilliantly before my eyes.

And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right beside it, Dan-ah's newly linked information materialized.

“What was your original class rank, might I ask?”

“I was F-rank originally.”

“Then check your status window once more, here and now.”

She waved her hand through the air.

“Adjusted to D-rank…?! And my Tailoring skill turned into something totally different too…!”

“Well? How does it feel, to have your standing rise vertically from a mere F-grade to the level of a fully fledged hunter in one stroke? Naturally, a level that still falls short of even the hem of my skirt, of course.”

A class rank was, after all, both the vessel of an Awakener's mana and their weight class.

Dan-ah's weight class, once barely F-rank, had vaulted upward to match my Authority—and thanks to her Formality of Etiquette, my own Authority received an additional adjustment up to D-rank in return. A virtuous cycle, in other words: without lifting so much as a finger, I had simultaneously secured a dependable exclusive maid and a boost to my own specs.

“So. Where exactly is Sangcheol right now?”

Baek Dan-ah, who had been blinking owlishly at her status window, seemed to snap back to her senses and glared at me.

“I already told you. I am that very—”

“Hah, right to the end… Fine. I'll ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pretend to believe you, for now.”

“Oh dear, 'pretend,' you say? How irreverent.”

“For now is the key phrase. I don't even know where Sangcheol is right now, and you're wearing his clothes… no, wait—those clothes. Let's talk about those clothes.”

“Has some discourtesy been committed against my attire?”

Dan-ah narrowed her brow, then gave a short exhale, pressed her fingertips lightly against the front of my chest as if pushing it away, and said in a low, pointed voice:

“You're not wearing a bra, are you?”

Well, obviously—there was no way a man's bachelor apartment would have women's underwear lying around, so of course I hadn't put any on.

“What conceivable reason would there be for that? I am, in and of myself, supremely complete and noble, you see.”

“Do you have zero awareness of how much attention you're drawing from people right now, dressed like that?”

I genuinely couldn't fathom what she meant. I had no idea what crime a single missing article of underwear was supposed to constitute.

“Walking around in nothing but one thin, stretched-out old T-shirt… Do you have common sense, or don't you? Are you an exhibitionist who gets off on being seen?”

“…Pardon?”

An exhibitionist—good heavens, what unspeakable, heaven-outraging slander was this?

What conceivable correlation existed between the gazes of the masses and my lack of undergarments, I should like to know.

Curious, I slyly dipped my chin to peek down at my own chest—

—and there, above the loose, threadbare gray cotton T-shirt, met two pointed protrusions standing out with remarkable insistence, proudly declaring themselves.

……Hm?

So then.

The reason every last one of the countless commoners I'd crossed paths with—from the moment I left the apartment this morning, through the subway car, all the way inside the Management Bureau building—kept sneaking sidelong glances. The reason that bureaucrat's eyes kept darting between his paperwork and the region of my collarbone.

All of that—was it not because of my noble, august bearing… but because of… because of this, the whole time…?

FWOOOOSH—!

Heat scorched up through the crown of my head, and it felt as though every drop of blood in my body was flowing backward.

My skin flared crimson in an instant, flushed like a perfectly ripened tomato.

“You're an idiot.”

“An i-id-idiot, you say?! Th-this was merely a trifling oversight born of my own unfamiliarity with this new body, that is all—!”

“Haah, enough—just follow me. I really can't believe this person is Sangcheol…”

Dan-ah heaved a deep sigh and seized my wrist, hauling me along.

“W-wait just a moment! Where on earth are you taking me?”

“Where else? My apartment, obviously. I'll get you some clothes I don't wear anymore, and a spare set of underwear at the very least.”

“Th-that's hardly… surely there's no need to go that far…”

“Save the excuses and just come. We're right next door on the same floor anyway.”

And so, led along by Dan-ah's hand, I boarded the subway once more for the ride back to my apartment.

I couldn't bring myself to lift my head for the entire journey. The moment I became aware of this body's condition, every single glance around me felt searing and sharp, needling down into me.

My face burned fit to burst, and in the end I spent the whole walk through the station platform and the train car scurrying along in quick little steps, hiding close behind Dan-ah's back.

She sighed repeatedly, exasperated, but quietly stepped in front of me, shielding me from the stares of passersby.

I honestly wanted to crawl into a mouse hole and vanish.

That those contemptible commoner wretches dared sneak peeks at my shameless figure—was this not an indelible stain of humiliation upon the life of a noble Lady…?

Chewing down on all manner of embarrassment and indignation as I trailed meekly behind her, we arrived to the sound of beep, beep, beep—the electronic chirp of the door lock—and the click of the door swinging open.

“Come in.”

I stepped cautiously inside at her invitation, and the interior was so immaculately arranged that I doubted whether it truly shared the same layout as my one-room apartment right next door.

A faint scent of soap hung in the air of the room, where a desk sat polished free of a single speck of dust and the bedding lay folded with crisp, precise corners.

I'd heard that an Awakener's initial skill ranks were often oddly tied to their everyday habits and conduct before awakening—and suddenly I understood exactly why her Housework & Filth Purification was rated A.

As I awkwardly toed off my shoes and stepped into the room, Dan-ah pulled a stiff, plastic-wrapped set of underwear, never once opened, along with a few changes of clothes from her dresser, and pressed them into my arms.

“I don't know if they'll fit, but put these on. They're all brand new—I bought them and never opened them.”

Unfamiliar fabric against my hands. Staring blankly down at the lingerie trimmed in pink lace and a soft, fluttery blouse, I asked in a trembling voice:

“S-so then… you're telling me to drape these mortifyingly tiny scraps of cloth upon my person?”

“Are you planning to walk around like that forever?”

“No, it's not that, but…”

“No arguments. Just hurry up and change. If you're that embarrassed, go do it in the bathroom.”

“What's with that little tramp?”

In the back seat of a sedan across from the Management Bureau building, Serin furrowed her elegant brow, sliding her sunglasses down slightly.

Through the binoculars, the girl had been standing there alone, driven by nothing but a single-minded resolve to protect “me.”

And yet in the span of mere minutes, some sparrow of a girl had come fluttering up, dared to seize the wrist of the Lady Serin had already staked as her own possession, and was dragging her off toward the subway station.

“Ha… how presumptuous, going around grabbing other people's things like that.”

Serin bit down hard on her thumbnail. Once the two of them passed through the subway turnstiles, she could no longer track them by car.

“Driver, pull over nearby and wait.”

“Pardon? You're going yourself, Holy Maiden?”

In answer, Serin simply tugged her cap down to her eyebrows and stepped out of the car.

“Call me again when I arrive.”

The two of us on the way back to the Association. Yes—that was how she rehearsed it in her mind.

How we would meet, how she would lay that girl upon my tongue, how I would… mm, melt her down.

Whether it would be better to bite down and devour her in a single gulp, or to savor the sight of her dissolving bit by slow bit—the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

But first, she'd have to chase off that thieving cat of a woman coveting someone else's chocolate.

And thoroughly at that.