Chapter 06
I never even received such money in the first place, but my stepmother’s words were ridiculous.
“Do I need your permission to spend my own money?”
At my calm question, Ophelia flinched and cleared her throat.
“I’m just worried because you’re still inexperienced in managing money. If you have that much, shouldn’t you entrust it to your mother?”
As she spoke, her eyes briefly glanced at the dresses spread out in the parlor.
“Since you’ve already bought the dresses, it would be a shame to return them. Instead of keeping them all to yourself, you should share them with your younger sister, Sophia.”
I let out a breath in disbelief.
Those dresses were carefully chosen for me by Lilianne.
Just as I was about to protest, unwilling to give them up, the mansion’s front door opened.
“What’s going on?”
It was Count Marc von Devonshire, Claire’s biological father and the head of the Devonshire family.
The middle-aged man looked exhausted as he frowned at Ophelia and me.
At that, Ophelia immediately put on a fake smile as if nothing had happened.
“Oh my, you’re home? There’s nothing going on. I was just having a conversation with Claire.”
She took the count’s coat with a sweet demeanor, but I simply watched with a stiff expression.
The count was so busy that he was often away on business trips.
It was rare for me to even see his face properly.
Since he was always silent and reserved, I never knew what he truly thought of me.
But the fact that he left his daughter in the hands of his new wife and was constantly away proved his indifference.
As I remained silent, keeping my head lowered, the count suddenly pulled something from his coat and handed it to me.
It was a letter.
When I looked up in confusion, the count spoke in a detached tone.
“A letter arrived for you from the Sinclair Marquisate.”
I noticed the official seal of the Sinclair family.
Ophelia’s face showed shock that such a prestigious family, one closely tied to the imperial family, had sent me a letter.
I opened it hesitantly, and immediately recognized Lilianne’s handwriting.
“To my dear friend Claire,
I hope you liked the dresses I sent you.
I chose them myself, so I would love to see you wearing them.”
Ophelia, who was reading over my shoulder, stiffened.
That meant she could no longer force me to share the dresses with Sophia.
After all, she wasn’t reckless enough to ignore a family with imperial connections.
I inwardly cheered and looked at Ophelia, who let out a forced cough and smiled awkwardly.
“Oh my, you should have told me that Lady Sinclair gifted them to you.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were so interested in my friendships, Stepmother.”
At my pointed remark, Ophelia’s expression hardened.
The count, watching our exchange with curiosity, turned to Ophelia.
“What gift are you talking about?”
Ophelia quickly changed her expression and tried to shift his attention.
“It’s nothing important. You must be tired. Why don’t you freshen up? I’ll have something light prepared for you.”
With that, she grabbed the count’s arm and led him away before we could talk further.
He looked too exhausted to resist and followed her without much protest.
As I watched him walk away, I was suddenly reminded of my father from my past life.
My father had also been busy with work, but he had loved me more than anything.
There was no comparing him to this indifferent count.
Shaking off my thoughts, I turned back to the parlor and began gathering my dresses.
There were too many, so I would need to call a maid for help.
Sophia, who was sitting nearby, looked at me with an annoyed expression and muttered loud enough for me to hear.
“Do you really think wearing fancy dresses will change anything? A pumpkin doesn’t become a watermelon just because you draw lines on it.”
I ignored her and called for a maid.
Annoyed by my silence, she spoke louder.
“How pathetic. Begging the Marquis’ daughter for dresses. Aren’t you embarrassed? You should’ve just borrowed mine instead.”
“……”
“If I were her, I’d feel sorry for you too and buy you something decent to wear.”
Ugh. I wanted to punch her so badly.
It would feel amazing, but with the maids watching, they would run straight to Ophelia and get me into trouble.
If I stayed quiet, I’d probably die from the stress.
So, I came up with an idea.
Sophia had stretched out her legs arrogantly, blocking my way.
Pretending I couldn’t see because of the dresses in my arms, I stepped down hard on her foot.
“Aahhh!”
I was wearing brand-new heels with sharp points, while she had on soft indoor shoes.
There was definitely going to be a nice bruise.
Suppressing a smirk, I feigned innocence.
“Oh my, sorry! I didn’t see your foot there.”
“You—you did that on purpose!”
“Oh dear, I had no idea you were stretching your legs out like that.”
The implication was clear: she was the one who had deliberately blocked my path.
Sophia fumed, unable to argue back.
She glanced around for Ophelia’s help, but her mother had already left with the count.
Frustrated, she stomped off with a limp.
I watched her retreating back and snorted.
One day, you’re going to get a real slap from me.
A few days later, on a bright and sunny day, our group gathered again to plan the “Break Off the Engagement with My Trash Fiancé” operation.
Today’s meeting theme was “A Picnic in the Park.”
Of course, there was no Central Park in this world, but we found a similar one.
It was a large park by a lake, with a famous horse riding club on one side and a picnic area for nobles on the other.
As we settled on a blanket that Lilianne’s servants had laid out, Sabrina grumbled while looking around.
“Ugh, why are we just sitting under this blazing sun?”
I smirked and nudged her side with my elbow.
“This is one of Lilianne’s romantic fantasies.”
Sabrina let out a sigh, resigned, as she watched Lilianne excitedly pull out snacks from the picnic basket.
Today, I was wearing a soft, flowing beige dress—one of the dresses Lilianne had gifted me. Sabrina, too, had given in to Lilianne’s enthusiasm and was wearing a purple dress from the ones she had received. Lilianne herself was dressed in a light green dress and had even taken the time to do our makeup before eagerly preparing the refreshments.
“All done!”
Sabrina, who had been fanning herself with a hand fan in the heat, forced a smile and reached out to take a teacup from Lilianne.
Then, suddenly—
Lilianne hastily put down the teacup and snatched Sabrina’s fan from her hands, unfolding it quickly.
“W-What’s wrong?”
Startled, Sabrina asked in confusion. Lilianne hid her face behind the fan, hunched her shoulders, and whispered,
“It’s him! The male lead!”
“Huh?”
“My childhood friend, the male lead! He’s over there!”
At Lilianne’s words, both Sabrina and I turned our heads in the direction she was looking.
There, three tall men in riding clothes were sitting on a bench, resting.
And, just as Lilianne had said, among them was the red-haired, handsome male lead—Mikael.
But right beside him… was my useless fiancé, looking as dazzling as a golden-haired Greek god.
I quickly turned my head away and used another fan to hide my face.
Sabrina looked at me in confusion.
“Why are you hiding?”
“My useless fiancé is with them.”
At that, Sabrina turned to look at the group of men.
“Oh… crap.”
Lilianne and I peeked at them from behind our fans, stealing glances at Mikael and Mathieu. The two of them were friends—at least, until the female lead entered the picture.
With them sat another man, someone I had never seen before. He had a sharp, handsome face and looked like he belonged to a wealthy noble family.
Then—
Our eyes met.
Mathieu saw me.
Panicked, I quickly ducked behind my fan.
As I sat there, frozen in place, Sabrina—who was not hiding her face—spoke up.
“Uh… I think we have a problem.”
My heart dropped.
“What? Why?”
“One of the guys… is walking over here.”
“WHAT?”
I carefully peeked over my fan, and sure enough, just as Sabrina had said, one of the men from Mikael and Mathieu’s group was making his way toward us.
Why?
Why was he coming over here?
Did he recognize me and Lilianne?
I shot a quick glance at Mathieu—he was staring straight at me.
Before I could think of a way out, the man arrived in front of us.
With a charming smile, he spoke,
“Lovely ladies, are you here all alone?”
…What?
What kind of cliché, cringeworthy pick-up line was that?
