♡ TL: Khadija SK
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“You’ve done wonderfully! Today, under no circumstances can we let her wear those drab dresses.”
What Ann had hidden were the dark-colored dresses Hazel favored for every ball—such as the deep purple one or the blue verging on gray.
Those dresses made Hazel look at least five years older than her actual age.
“I agree with you, my lady.”
“But Ann, where did you hide them? Hazel has been adept at treasure hunts since she was little. Don’t you think she might find them?”
Lady Easton couldn’t rest easy and cast a quick glance toward Hazel’s bedroom door.
In perfect timing, the door swung open, and Hazel peeked out slightly. Her underdress swayed beneath the doorway.
“Ann, it’s time to change. Mother? What are you doing over there?”
Hazel stepped out further, looking back and forth between Lady Easton and Ann standing side by side.
“I was asking Ann about the hat we sent for repair. Ann, you said it’d be ready in three days?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Good. You’re busy, so off you go now.”
Lady Easton cleared her throat and turned away. Her exchange with Ann and her departing steps seemed somewhat forced.
“What hat did Mother send for repair?”
Hazel asked as Ann entered the room.
Ann’s shoulders twitched.
“H-Hat?”
“Yes. The hat Mother sent for repair.”
“The hat the lady sent… Oh! The golden-crested bird hat. The bird’s feathers kept shedding, so we sent it for repair.”
“Hmm…”
Hazel eyed Ann from head to toe before turning her head.
She was certain Lady Easton and Ann were conspiring about something, but she didn’t want to dig further.
‘If it’s about me, I’ll find out sooner or later…’ But she discovered it faster than expected.
Less than two minutes after the hat discussion, when Ann brought the dresses…
Hazel stared in astonishment at the rolling rack Ann pushed in.
Three dresses hung on it, flaunting their vibrant colors.
“Am I going to a ball or a parade?”
Hazel could make sense of the red and light green dresses. But the fluorescent yellow? Not only was the color startling, but the design itself was even more bewildering.
“Is that thing hanging on it a net?”
“They say it’s the fashion in neighboring countries.”
“Which country exactly? Who designed this clown-worthy dress?”
Hazel wasn’t a demanding lady, but she couldn’t compromise on these dresses.
“I stood in line to get them, miss! Why can’t you appreciate art?”
Ann felt frustrated.
In truth, the dresses Ann brought were custom-made by a tailor shop Lady Easton had ordered them from last year for Hazel.
“I don’t want to become a clown. Bring my dress, Ann.”
“These are your dresses too. The lady bought them for you.”
“Mother wasted money. Since they haven’t been worn, maybe they can be returned… No, impossible.”
Hazel placed a hand on her forehead.
If they’d waited a year to get them, they must be from a renowned tailor, and returns were unlikely. Custom dresses were non-returnable by nature.
That’s why one should be cautious when commissioning dresses, but Lady Easton had them made without consulting her.
“How did she know my size?”
“How could she not? She’s your mother. The person who knows you better than anyone. Can’t you try them on just once? The red one. Honestly, I wouldn’t recommend the yellow one either.”
Ann lightly suggested the red dress, which seemed the most moderate of the three.
Was it an optical illusion? The red dress, which should’ve horrified her, now looked ordinary.
Hazel shut her eyes tightly, torn between following Lady Easton’s wishes or not, then shook her head in the end.
“Bring my dress, Ann.”
“If you wear this, you’ll look like a butterfly.”
“A butterfly? More like a moth.”
Hazel shook her head.
She preferred dark dresses because she didn’t want to stand out.
Standing out meant drawing people in, and Hazel wasn’t confident she could remain the delicate, compliant lady Lady Easton desired amidst such crowds.
‘It’s a flaw in my personality.’
Her personality, unable to rest until she corrected what she saw as wrong, had hurt Charlotte more than once.
So, Hazel chose to be wallpaper at balls, banquets, and crowded dinners, and she needed a shadow-colored dress for that.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Ann. Time’s running out. Fetch my dress quickly.”
“It’s really not here.”
Ann replied as she hung the dresses on the rack.
“What?”
“Search for yourself. It’s truly not here.”
From Ann’s demeanor, it was clear the dress wasn’t in the room. Hazel recalled Lady Easton talking with Ann in the corridor and instantly understood.
To be so confident despite the disappearance of her mistress’s belongings meant Ann had orders from another lady.
“Alright, Ann. I don’t want to put you in a tough spot. I understand you can’t tell me where the dress is hidden. So I’ll find it myself.”
Hazel slipped back into the underdress she’d removed earlier. Ann tried to stop her in a panic.
“Miss, if we don’t start preparing now, we’ll be late.”
“There’s no helping it. I’ll be a little late, that’s fine.”
Ann swayed anxiously.
Lady Easton’s plan had failed.
In the end, Hazel would somehow find her gray dress and wear it to the ball.
“Never tell me where the dress is hidden, Ann.”
Hazel turned to Ann, gripping the doorknob. Ann frowned.
Did she mean to tell her or not?
“But there’s something you can do. You can help me without betraying Lady Easton.”
Ann’s ears perked up.
“Of course, if you want to help me.”
Ann hesitated before answering:
“I’m always on your side, miss.”
“Sometimes you make me doubt that, but mostly you are.”
“I’m sorry about this time. I just wanted to make you prettier…”
“I know. That’s why I’m not mad. So, Ann, from now on, just answer yes or no.”
Hazel had been a treasure hunt prodigy since childhood. It was natural—she always found a way to coax hints from those hiding the treasure. It wasn’t cheating.
After all, no rule forbade asking others for help in finding it.
Plus, she’d share the treasure she found with her younger siblings kindly, so who could object?
Anyway, Hazel used the same tactic this time to locate her gray dress.
It was predictable that Lady Easton would want to strangle her when she saw her wearing it.
***
“Did I come too early?”
At the entrance of the Easton home, after exchanging greetings with Lady Easton, who’d come out to see Hazel and Charlotte off, Theodore leaned toward Hazel and asked quietly.
“No. You arrived right on time. I’m the one who’s late—I nearly missed the ball today.”
There was a playful lilt in Hazel’s voice.
Something amusing had apparently happened at the Easton home. But it seemed amusing only to Hazel.
Lady Easton and Charlotte’s expressions weren’t good.
Theodore wanted to ask immediately but curbed his curiosity and offered a greeting to Andre, standing atop the stairs.
“Thank you for entrusting me with escorting the ladies, Master Andre.”
“We should be thanking you. I extend my regards on behalf of Viscount Easton.”
Andre bowed his small head deeply.
Seeing the little hairs sticking out behind Andre’s round head, Theodore’s hand twitched.
‘I’d love to pat his head.’
But Theodore didn’t reach out rashly, instead gently clenching his fist to respect Andre’s dignity.
“It’s hardly a reward, but I’d like to invite you to dinner next time.”
Andre lifted his head, speaking clearly to Theodore, then glanced at Lady Easton beside him.
“Is that good?” was written all over his face. The dinner invitation had been coached by Lady Easton.
“Of course. Since we’ll be late going, we’ll be late returning too, so it’s time to set off.”
Theodore extended his hand to Hazel.
“You look beautiful today too, Miss Hazel.”
“Lady Easton doesn’t think so. Do you, Mother?”
Hazel, wearing gloves, took Theodore’s arm and turned to Lady Easton.
“Of course. You look exactly like a smoked pigeon.”
In truth, Hazel was beautiful.
But if she’d worn the dress Lady Easton bought, she’d have been even more stunning.
Regrettably, Lady Easton said something she didn’t mean from her heart.
“If this smoked pigeon is this beautiful, I’d gladly lend her my smokehouse.”
Theodore glanced at Hazel’s profile.
His gaze was deeper than usual.
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