The First Ball Since the Debutante
Ilina, the proud young lady of the prestigious Milizé family, was fully determined to be the center of attention.
She tightened her corset as much as possible, pinned her hair up tightly, and adorned her exposed neck with a gold necklace encrusted with sparkling jewels.
A ruby hairpin, large pearl earrings, sky-high stiletto heels… there wasn’t a single part of her from head to toe that she hadn’t meticulously perfected.
Ilina was confident. No—she had to be.
Her fiancé Hans was attending tonight’s ball.
She recalled her father’s sharp voice, warning her not to bring shame to her fiancé’s family.
And the image of her mother admiring the slim figure of Hans’s mother, the Baroness Chaser, lingered in her mind.
So Ilina endured three days on water alone.
To slim down her waist, she drank herbal brews said to help with weight loss three times a day and covered her skin from scalp to armpits with white powder.
It’s fine. I’m beautiful tonight.
Only after chanting this self-hypnosis dozens of times did her legs begin to move.
As expected of a ducal ball, the venue overflowed with dazzling wines and sumptuous food.
To avoid smudging her lipstick from salivating, she averted her eyes and made her way toward the ducal family.
She heard her father whisper, “Behave properly,” but even staying conscious felt like a challenge now.
Her ankles ached, her stomach throbbed.
Maybe because she was starving, it felt colder than it was. She forced her trembling shoulders to stay still and stopped before the ducal family.
Among the beautiful blond family members stood one young woman with a distinctly unusual hair color beside the duke.
Not his wife—he had already said the duchess wouldn’t attend today. That must be the infamous…
The former Duchess—the fifth one, at that.
A noble lady from a fallen family, sold into marriage with the duke.
A widow whose husband—the previous duke—died right after the wedding.
A stepmother younger than the current duke.
The subject of all the rumors swirling through Western high society: the Dowager Duchess Wilhelmina Leighton.
“We greet His Grace, the Duke of Leighton,” her father said, and Ilina, who had been distracted by Wilhelmina, quickly bowed.
She was about to cross one leg and lift her skirt in an elegant curtsy when nausea hit her the moment she bent at the waist.
The tight corset had pushed up against her stomach.
As stomach acid rose in her throat, she clamped her mouth shut instead of picking up her fan.
“Ilina!” her father hissed, but she couldn’t even reply.
At this rate, she was going to become the rude girl who gagged in front of the ducal family!
Just as she desperately tried to suppress it and apologize—
“Why are all the girls here so skinny?”
She felt a warm hand wrap around her stomach.
“My gosh, look at this tiny arm. It’s all bones and skin!”
“L-Lady Mother?”
The person catching Ilina as she nearly collapsed was none other than the Dowager Duchess Wilhelmina.
The duke moved to stop her in surprise, but she clicked her tongue and pulled out a quaintly old-fashioned handkerchief from her pocket. Then she gently pressed it against Ilina’s mouth.
The crisp scent of peppermint on the fabric soothed her nausea.
Wilhelmina leaned in and whispered softly so only Ilina could hear.
“Why are your shoulders bare when it’s cold? You’re already too thin, and on top of that you’re wearing a corset and high heels… Are you even eating? You need to get something in your stomach.”
Her tone was far too casual for a noble lady—almost playful—but there was genuine warmth in her words.
Staring into those mysteriously navy eyes, knit with concern, Ilina blurted out the word that came to mind without thinking.
“G-Grandma…?”
Wilhelmina looked like she might say, “Look how skinny our grandbaby is!” at any moment.
For some reason, she reminded Ilina of her grandmother in the countryside.
Wilhelmina had married an old duke at twenty-five and became a widow right after.
Now, she frowned as if she couldn’t understand modern noble society at all.
“I don’t get why everyone lives like this—so stiff and uptight.”
Wilhelmina’s former life? A thirty-two-year-old schoolteacher named Kim Hana.
Now, reborn seven years younger, this fantasy world’s aristocratic society made absolutely no sense to her.
