Chapter 127
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 127
“It has been quite some time since I last laid eyes on my husband’s live-in woman.”
At Roxanne’s dignified mockery, Belladonna momentarily forgot to breathe. The sound of the noblewomen snickering among themselves echoed in her ears.
“Perhaps because it’s been so long, but your attire…”
Roxanne’s eyes swept over Belladonna from head to toe.
“…has become remarkably modest.”
“...!”
At the blatant ridicule, Belladonna bit the inside of her cheek with all her might. She tasted blood.
Belladonna Merton, who had always made it a point to flaunt her beauty in the finest dresses whenever she encountered Roxanne, felt a searing sense of humiliation in this moment.
She wanted to strike her past self for choosing such a plain dress just a few hours ago to avoid upsetting Tulia.
“And we have Aunt Roxanne joining us after a long absence as well.”
Tulia Frezier continued, leisurely observing the trembling forms of Belladonna and Sandra.
“I have something wonderful to show the ladies.”
Clap, clap.
At the second set of claps, the nobles, who had been dazed, reflexively turned their gazes toward the door.
The person entering was, once again, a woman.
Someone recognized her and cried out.
“Oh my! It’s Designer Orlen!”
“Good heavens! Designer Orlen came in person?”
The Orlen Boutique was considered one of the finest in the Brillant Empire. And the owner herself, Designer Orlen, had made a personal visit!
What followed was a parade of dresses.
Under the light of the chandeliers, the beads and jewels meticulously embroidered onto the gowns emitted a dazzling, dizzying radiance.
Any lady with a modicum of discernment and culture couldn't help but estimate the staggering price of each and every dress.
Clack, clack.
Dozens of mannequins adorned in beautiful gowns filled the Grand Banquet Hall.
“Now, ladies?”
Tulia spoke as she began to walk.
“Grandfather always said that everyone in the Grand Duchy is one family. So, would you ladies care to help me choose a dress?”
“I have brought only the pieces I am most confident in, even among my seasonal works, Lady Tulia,” Designer Orlen said, her voice brimming with pride.
Her creations were coveted even by the Imperial Family. They were expensive dresses that even high-ranking noblewomen wouldn't dare dream of purchasing without a great deal of resolve.
The noblewomen and young ladies, who usually found it difficult even to enter the Orlen Boutique, wore ecstatic expressions as they viewed the masterpieces before their eyes.
“Lady Tulia, diamonds suit you so well, so how about this one?”
Following the remark of one brave noblewoman, the Grand Banquet Hall became boisterous as everyone vied to help pick a dress.
There were delicate laces in patterns of wild roses and pomegranate blossoms, muslin ribbons, and fluttering frills.
“My goodness. They are truly so beautiful.”
The young ladies also enjoyed browsing the dresses as if they were admiring exquisite works of art.
Some time passed.
Tulia listened with a smile to the opinions—which included some light bickering over which dress was prettier or which would suit her better—before finally speaking.
“Thank you for choosing so passionately. As expected, the ladies of the Grand Duchy have excellent taste. In that case…”
The noblewomen wondered inwardly which dress Tulia would choose.
“I shall purchase them all. Designer Orlen, please send the bill to Marquis Aster Frezier.”
“It was well worth the trip to the Grand Duchy. Thank you, Lady Tulia Frezier.”
A clean sweep.
“Good heavens!”
“A-all of these dresses?”
“The price of just one is… oh my.”
Though the degree varied, everyone present was busy whispering in shock. Some of the more delicate ladies even placed their hands over their pounding hearts.
Tulia turned to the beaming Orlen and asked, “By the way, there is one thing I’m curious about.”
“Oh, please ask me anything.”
“The dress my sister, Sandra, is wearing today is also a creation from the Orlen Boutique, isn't it?”
Orlen’s gaze shifted. She spoke graciously.
“Yes, that is correct. It is a limited edition seasonal piece.”
“If it’s a limited edition seasonal piece, I assume you would never put it up for resale.”
“Of course, Lady Tulia. Not reselling limited edition pieces is a tradition of the Orlen Boutique and a matter of my professional pride.”
Hearing Orlen’s firm words, Tulia’s smile deepened.
To put it another way, it had turned into a devilish smirk. Sandra found herself trembling involuntarily.
“You heard her, didn't you, Countess Orquichin?”
And so, immediately after the party—which had been enjoyable for everyone except those two—ended.
I stopped Sandra and Belladonna Merton as they were trying to hurry out of the hall amidst the crowd of exiting noblewomen. I brought up the main point of the multi-billion gold shopping spree I had showcased today.
“That Designer Orlen never resells her limited edition seasonal items.”
“S-Sandra! Hurry and return the dress to the young lady! Keep it clean! Quickly!”
A limited edition seasonal piece by Designer Orlen that would never be resold.
That meant that even if it cost 100 million gold to buy from the boutique, one would have to pay several times that amount to acquire it on the secondary market. Designer Orlen’s limited works were worth that much.
Belladonna was quick-witted.
She had likely already half-guessed why I was bringing this up and was running the calculations in her head.
“Oh, no. You’ve got it wrong, Countess Orquichin.”
Yeah, but I’m Tulia.
Besides, Sandra’s malicious intent was plain to see.
Did they really expect me to show them mercy? Surely not?
“Why would you think I would ever want back a dress that someone else has already worn?”
“L-Lady Tulia?”
“Naturally, you must pay me back in the gold required to buy that dress. Ah, my head maid will assist you with the calculations.”
It was a dress by Designer Orlen, with added value for its rarity and fame.
They would have to pay at least double, no, triple the original price.
“I’ll send the invoice to Uncle Nigella. Right, Sandra?”
Sandra’s face turned deathly pale, and Belladonna Merton’s face turned a sickly, corpse-like blue.
*
The Imperial Capital.
“To suddenly put such a large mansion in such a prime location on the market… well, it’s good for us, but I am curious.”
The elderly Count who had come to buy Nigella’s mansion asked with a tilt of his head.
“...Ahem. I simply grew bored of living in the same mansion for so long. I’m clearing this place out to find an even better one.”
Just as he said, Nigella, who had been forced to put this excellent mansion up for sale in a hurry, hid his bitter expression and gave a vague excuse.
“Ah. I suppose you’re finally returning to the Count’s estate. Indeed, Count Nigella—and please don't take this the wrong way—honestly, you’ve lived away from the main estate for far too long.”
It was a veiled jab at the fact that he had left his legal wife behind to live with his mistress.
“...Haha. I shall take your words to heart, Count.”
Normally, people might say such things behind his back, but never to his face.
‘It seems the rumors have already spread all the way to the capital. Dammit.’
The rumors that he and Belladonna had been living in luxury by embezzling Tulia’s child support!
Since arguing would only make things worse, Nigella had no choice but to finish the transaction while laughing like a man who had lost his spirit. That was how desperate he was for liquid funds.
The promissory note clearly stated the interest rate; if he was even a day late, an enormous amount of additional interest would pile up. Nigella could no longer continue his life of idle leisure.
Even if he personally ran a merchant guild and scraped together every bit of profit he could find, he was in a position where he would have to spend over thirty years just paying back the debt.
After finishing the sale of the mansion.
Nigella, who had returned to his office to make sure he hadn't missed a single item—down to the last speck of dust—was on the verge of going mad with the desire to undo the sale.
To think he had to let go of such a fine mansion so urgently!
Just as his chest was tightening with regret.
“What is it?!”
Nigella, who had even sold off the dignified collections he had amassed to an auction, shouted irritably at the noise coming from outside.
His aide, whose face was equally pale, entered and spoke in a cautious voice.
“C-Count. A letter from an anonymous sender has arrived…”
“Do I look like I have the leisure to read such things?!”
“The thing is, the contents are quite alarming…”
Nigella scowled and snatched the letter away.
Though the sender was anonymous, the stationery was of the highest quality.
The paper, bordered with melted gold and featuring a small emerald embedded in the center, was a luxury item so expensive that no one below a high-ranking noble could even touch it.
“...!”
As Nigella quickly scanned the letter, his face grew increasingly pale. Cold sweat even began to bead on his forehead.
“Who sent this?”
“I couldn't find out. It seems they spent quite a bit of money to send it through multiple channels.”
“Dammit…”
Nigella, who didn't even have the money to conduct a proper trace as he usually would, folded the letter small and tucked it into his coat.
“Keep what you saw today absolutely secret. Absolutely! If this leaks, I’ll have your head first!”
“Yes, Count…!”
*
Hmm~
By now, Nigella should have received and read the letter.
That letter I sent contained the truth about Belladonna Merton’s real identity.
Well, since he probably still loves her for now, he won't be able to cast her out immediately.
But as he frantically pays back the money he owes, he’ll become sensitive to even the smallest troubles, and a rift will naturally form between the two. From what I’ve seen, Nigella has a rather petty personality.
Let’s see how he acts when that time comes.
I leaned back comfortably against the sofa.