Hello, Cute Debutante
Hello, cute debutante. Another fresh face squeezing into the noble society woven from blood and tradition—a rite of passage. The debutantes you often see in romance novels get the full red-carpet treatment from their families, complete with a grand stage and protagonist vibes. But this is the boonies, where common sense goes to die. No such thing here. In a slum overrun by Porern's poor and prowling monsters, nobody takes debutantes that seriously. In professional terms, "That money's better spent on... well, you know."
At best, some senior nobles step up to introduce the debutante around, maybe escort her for a dance or two. No fancy setups—just casual hellos and self-intros while you're already there. Don't read too much into it. Don't read too much into it, but...
Still feels kinda heavy... Truth is, as the token stand-in, I won't actually be debuting. I'm just here as the Porern Orphanage director, saying hi once and stamping my seal: From now on, this party's not about fun—it's all for charity. Stamp, done.
But this frilly, flowing dress? This glamorous makeup...! Too late to complain now that I'm stuck pulling random rags from the closet, but damn, the dress level is on another plane.
"It's embarrassing... wearing a dress..." The lingering masculinity inside me put up a timid fight.
"Even I get shy playing waitress~ waitress~, but I do it anyway. The guild keeps demanding all sorts of costumes for every damn holiday..." Ludric's face went dead. The look of someone who'd lost their humanity.
"It's fine. Otherwise, these kids starve. Whatever." Sneaky bastard. Dropping the ultimate move right out the gate. After one little grumble, he shoves me straight into the infinite simp void. No choice but for this pathetic liquor-spirit Lee Seoha to admit defeat.
"Fine..."
"It's just quick intros anyway—no big deal. Everyone's too busy yapping about themselves. Prep's all handled on-site too."
...Yeah, right? I've got one life truth etched in stone: Nothing's ever as "not busy" as it seems, and nothing comes without insane suffering.
Gathering a crowd meant insane amounts of work. Even family holidays knock me flat for days, and this? It's like a bunch of ultra-picky mothers-in-law throwing a party.
"May the Goddess's blessing be with you."
"May the Goddess's blessing be with you. Pleased to meet you. I'm Adrien of House Arl Baron."
"Tisha Luagwen of Porern."
The introduced Arl Baron was ridiculously generous-looking. Personality and physique both overflowing with that plump, jolly vibe. Party fanatic? Yeah, you could feel the credibility radiating off him.
No wonder he couldn't hack it long in the Sacrament Knight Order... Even among southern cities, Arl had decent economics. Ascetic life? Not for a guy like this. His flashy clothes screamed zero talent for religious austerity.
"Not just for Biern's request—I hope this party sparks a trend, putting the south at the forefront. Trekking to the capital every time is a hassle."
"I hope it goes well too."
"The head steward here handles basics. Maids do the grunt work. If you're bored, Director, just stretch out and nap."
"Haha, reliable stuff."
The steward gave me a light nod. Intros weren't even done, but maids buzzed around like pros, prepping with sharp efficiency. Not their first rodeo—this level of polish on basic chores was impressive.
Easiest path? Follow the baron's advice: lounge, watch, done. Ludric vouched for him, so safe bet. Smooth party ahead.
That'd leave me just chiming in with "Ohoho, far be it from a lowly one like me to interfere—leave it to you, Baron!" But it'd kill my say in the party. I'd be dead weight.
Seems harmless at a glance, but... Technically, this charity event's co-hosted by House Arl Baron and Porern Orphanage via Ludric's intro. "Co-" my ass—it's 9:1 baron-heavy. Sure, invites cover costs, but venue alone tips scales massively baron-ward.
Means if he skimps on orphanage donations later, I can't complain. If they handle everything, you take what they give. What recourse for the do-nothing?
So, at minimum, do enough to claim credit with the baron.
"Baron, mind if I help with party prep a bit?"
"Eh... no issue."
"I've seen plenty of central and northern trends. Won't disappoint."
"Oh ho... Director from the north?"
"Not originally, but close enough..."
Spying on grand dukes via novels counts, right? Northern flavor? Sure.
No manpower or cash, so my one play: party planning input. Baron didn't expect my meddling, but didn't dismiss it either. Porern Orphanage director, Biern-endorsed. Backing made stewards and maids prioritize my ideas.
"Alright... I'm swamped, so I'll leave you to it. No pressure—they're all pros."
"Leave it to me."
Noble parties are trend wars. Pride battles over who sets the hottest styles—and the south always ranked low.
Success here boosts baron's rep naturally. Rare shot at capital/north-rivaling scale. Failure? Biern covers. Baron's luck was insane—snagging a future-trend knower like me.
"Curtains? This white one's pretty. Or the blue-patterned."
[Looks like a hospital room.]
"Really? Blue and white together feels homey, kinda distant and dreamy."
[Idiot.]
Not me, then. My taste... objectively sub-average. Pass to the next victim quietly.
Orphanage directors bossing kids around? Classic even in ancient poems.
"Kids. What do you think of my charity event plan?"
Kiara, Alice, Cadellin—Porern's top big-sis trio. Labeled it "plan" grandly, but it was crude: rough decor, food, schedule skeletons. Need party experience for this. Mine's hole-riddled; beyond my skill to fill.
Predictably varied reactions.
"Seems okay?" Cadellin, clueless and flustered from the sudden call-up.
"Um... food won't go cold, right?" Alice, mustering sincerity on what she knows.
"...Haha."
And Kiara. Bro, she's lost it? Her face screamed no sweet dreams.
"My black-and-white modern concept's solid, right?"
Toilet white, bathroom black. ...Yeah, even I knew it sucked. Eyes don't lie. But what can ya do? Taste ain't instant. With orphanage's future on this flop-line party, still powerless.
But you can, right?
"...Maybe swap just the curtains. Tables, dishes, food too..."
"Think so? It's fine now, no?"
"...Worth a try?"
"Sure, why not."
No explanation needed—Kiara sniffed the stakes.
[She's just pitying your trash plan.]
"Shasha, half this plan's your ideas."
My 22-minute masterpiece? Mercilessly trashed. And so, 16-year-old Kiara took party prep front-stage.
Years early, a grand duke trend starts here—in this world's southern baron's house.
The baron was thrilled with my (Kiara's) planning and prep. Tactical Kiara secured more party stake, but obviously, I couldn't lead everything. Sending invites in my name? Tossed as "Who?" Baron house branding where needed; I focused elsewhere.
Dresses. No shops near orphanage, so naturally, Arl's shopping district.
Tight on time, but manageable...
Thought just Kiara for a dress, but Alice tugged... then Cadellin. Called all three wary of Kiara's walls, but sidelining her for this chance felt bad. Group outing it is.
Kiara gets a dress... Alice and Cadellin could use nice outfits too.
All dresses? Costly, and barely worn. Charity or not, multiple kids might irk. Per Ludric, it's nominally charity...
Kiara solo? Sneakable; she'd behave.
"Alice, Cadellin. Sightsee, meet at square front around 4 PM?"
No dress experience, but measurements take time. No point dragging excited kids to window-shop rejects.
"Pocket money—spend wisely."
"Thank you!"
"...Thanks."
Good Wigen slipped extras beyond knight rewards. Cadellin, tense all day with me, lit up at unexpected cash. Pocket money's true power.
Reconfirmed meetup, emergencies—then Kiara and I headed to the dress shop.
Won't get lost now.
Relief let surroundings sink in.
"Way more developed than Porern..."
Hard to believe same era—feels like a quaint European town. Porern slums had zero guards; here, overkill patrols.
Better security.
Prime spot in pristine streets: Etienne Dress Shop. Famous enough for local nobles to seek out.
Cheaper options? Time crunch forced this time-friendly spot.
"Sorry, fully booked all day."
"We reserved ahead—said we'd come today?"
"Sorry, unavoidable. Come tomorrow, please."
What? Snobbery 'cause no noble? Reserved with names pre-checked, yet clerk flips script casually.
"Sorry..."
[That guy's the reason.]
Clerk blocks us politely, but eyes dart elsewhere. Unmarked knight guarding door. No entanglements wanted—time to bail.
"Hold up."
Knight approaches slowly. Blocking? Nope—unexpected words.
"It's fine. Madam approves. Wants a closer look."
"Sorry... please, come in."
One word, clerk flips to VIP service. Speechless at the deference.
Who the hell...?
Absurd—thought to leave, but curiosity for the big shot won. No other options today anyway.
Inside, staff buzz for one woman. Her gesturing fingers pause at us.
"Good call letting them in. My eye never fails."
"... "
"... "
Stunning woman overall, but glossy black hair hit first. Black not rare—mine green, Kiara's silver. But black-haired noble? Special.
Empire's one such house.
Why in the south...?
Crown, walls, sword crest. Only non-imperial house allowed crowns.
"Hello. Cute."
The sole grand duchy. Rostyra blood stood before us.