After breakfast, Rosette began preparing for the party.
Once she had bathed and dressed, the maids eagerly fussed over her. They helped her into a pristine white dress, adorned her loosely braided hair with flowers, and fastened delicate jewelry around her neck and wrists.
“You look absolutely lovely!”
“Oh, how precious!”
Encouraged by their excited praise, Rosette finally gathered the courage to glance in the mirror—and froze.
‘I look like a princess.’
The flowing dress and sparkling accessories outshone even the ones Elisa Dales had worn for her birthdays.
Her face might still be plain, but like this… she almost looked passable.
Blushing, Rosette let the maids lead her by the hand to the greenhouse in the garden.
Despite the winter chill outside, the greenhouse was filled with blooming flowers. At its center stood three large round tables, set with what looked like at least fifteen sets of cutlery.
Rosette turned to Joanne in confusion.
“Are… guests coming?”
“Who knows?” Joanne replied with a mysterious smile.
Just then, the impeccably dressed members of House Adrian began filing in.
Lucas spotted Rosette first and whistled loudly.
“Wow! Squirt! You look amazing!”
“R-Really?”
“Yeah! You might even be prettier than Isabelle now!”
Rosette didn’t believe that for a second. Isabelle Adrian was the most beautiful person she had ever seen—even in her past life, Isabelle had been renowned as the most stsisterng lady in high society.
To say Rosette was prettier was ridiculous.
Flustered, she quickly changed the subject.
“So, um… who else is coming?”
“Hmm, I wonder~?” Lucas grinned mischievously, glancing toward the greenhouse entrance.
At that moment—
“Rose!”
A familiar voice—one that shouldn’t be here—rang out. Someone was rsisterng toward the greenhouse.
Rosette’s eyes widened.
“Jane?!”
For a second, she thought she was hallucinating. Because the Jane before her now was nothing like the last time she’d seen her.
It wasn’t her appearance that had changed—but everything else.
Jane was clean from head to toe. Her dress, though simpler than Rosette’s, was neat and well-made. Her perpetually messy hair was now neatly brushed and braided into two plaits. Even her face, usually smudged with dirt, was scrubbed clean.
For a wild moment, Rosette wondered if this was an illusion she’d conjured up herself.
When Rosette hesitated, Duke Adrian gently nudged her forward.
“Go on. Didn’t you miss her?”
Stumbling forward at first, Rosette soon broke into a run.
“Jane!”
Jane caught her in a tight hug.
“Rose! I missed you so much!”
“Is it really you?” Rosette’s voice trembled.
“Of course it’s me!”
Cupping Rosette’s face, Jane studied her intently.
“Wow, our Rose looks like a whole different person now. So pretty.”
Jane’s voice was thick with unshed tears.
“Have you been well, my little sister?”
“Yes… and you?”
“I’ve been great! After you left, Duke Adrian gave the orphanage so much support. We have plenty to eat now, and everyone’s doing well.”
“But how did you get here?”
“The Duke invited all of us for your birthday!”
“All…?”
“Yeah, all of us!”
Jane turned and waved, and suddenly, a flood of children came rushing into the greenhouse from outside.
“Rose!”
“Big sis!”
“Rosette!”
In an instant, Rosette was surrounded by the children she had grown up with in the orphanage. As she looked at each of their faces, one by one, the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over.
“I… I missed you all so much.”
Some of the mischievous kids giggled at her crying, while the softer-hearted ones started tearing up too.
Hugging them tightly, Rosette glanced over their heads at Duke Adrian, who stood a few steps away. Silently, she mouthed two words:
‘Thank you.’
She swore—this was the greatest birthday gift she had ever received in her entire life.
Rosette spent a wonderful day with the children. They devoured the feast prepared by the Adrian family’s head chef, ran around the gardens playing games, and as evening fell, they returned to the orphanage.
“Take care.”
“You too, Jane.”
After the bittersweet farewells, Rosette headed back to her room.
With the maids’ help, she changed into her nightgown and was about to climb into bed when a knock came at the door—and Duke Adrian entered.
“Ah, Your Grace!”
Rosette hurried over, and the Duke gently cupped her cheek.
“Did you enjoy your birthday?”
Rosette couldn’t contain her excitement, her words tumbling out in a rush.
“Yes! It was so much fun! It was the best gift ever. Thank you.”
“Actually… there’s one more gift.”
“Another one?”
The Duke handed her a document. At the top, in bold letters, it read: Adoption Certificate. Below it were details about Rosette’s identity.
“Do you know what this is?”
Thanks to her past life, Rosette could read—but she shook her head, pretending ignorance. The real Rosette wouldn’t have known how.
The Duke smiled and explained.
“This is a document that officially confirms your adoption into House Adrian.”
“So that means…?”
“From now on, you are officially Rosette Adrian, Rose.”
“Ah…”
Rosette Adrian.
She mouthed the name silently, as if testing how it felt. Then, in a small but determined voice, she whispered:
“I… I’ll do my very best, Your Grace.”
“You don’t have to do anything. Just keep being yourself.”
“Okay.”
“But, Rose…”
The Duke knelt to meet her eye level, his expression softening.
“There’s one more thing.”
From his coat, he pulled out a small, velvet pouch. When Rosette opened it, a delicate silver bracelet slipped into her palm—its surface engraved with swirling vines and a single, tiny crest: the sigil of House Adrian.
“This has been passed down in our family for generations. It’s meant to protect the one who wears it.”
Rosette’s fingers trembled as she traced the engraving.
“I… I can’t accept something this precious—”
“It’s yours.”
The Duke fastened the bracelet around her wrist himself.
“Because you are precious to this family.”
For the second time that day, Rosette found herself crying—but this time, she didn’t try to stop the tears.
“Huh?”
The Duke cleared his throat and asked,
“How long are you going to keep calling me ‘Your Grace’?”
Rosette blinked, not understanding his meaning—until he added softly,
“Aren’t we truly family now?”
“Family…”
For a moment, she still didn’t grasp it. Then her eyes widened.
Could he mean…?
After a brief hesitation, she whispered a word she had never dared to speak in either of her lives:
“F-Father…?”
“Hmm.”
But the Duke’s expression twisted slightly, as if dissatisfied.
Was that wrong?
Marquis Dales had insisted she call him “My Lord” with cold formality. Even as the Duke’s adopted daughter, maybe “Father” was too presumptuous.
She opened her mouth to correct herself—but the Duke spoke first.
“Isn’t there another word besides ‘Father’?”
“Huh?”
“A different word with the same meaning.”
A synonym for “Father”?
Rosette mechanically recited the first alternative that came to mind.
“D-Daddy…?”
Finally, the Duke’s face lit up with satisfaction.
“Yes, Rose.”
“But…”
Daniel, Lucas, and Isabelle all call you “Father.”
She couldn’t bring herself to ask. Sensing her hesitation, the Duke chuckled.
“This old man just wants to hear his youngest say ‘Daddy.’ Is that so bad?”
“No!”
The answer burst out before he even finished speaking—her body moving faster than her thoughts.
The Duke’s eyebrows rose at her uncharacteristic eagerness. Flustered, Rosette mumbled,
“Daddy is… nice.”
The word felt unfamiliar. But not unpleasant.
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.
Silently, she mouthed it over and over, like a toddler learning to speak for the first time.
Watching her, the Duke suddenly swept her up into his arms. Rosette yelped and clung to his neck.
“Won’t you say it out loud for me?”
Cheeks burning, she whispered into his shoulder:
“Daddy.”
“Good.”
Laughing, he tucked her into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
“Sweet dreams, my youngest daughter.”
The moment the door closed, Rosette yanked the covers over her head and kicked her feet wildly. Her throat tickled, her toes curled—she was giddy.
“Rosette Adrian.”
Murmuring her new name, she smiled into the darkness.
And just like that, the girl who had once been Rosette Dales—through the turning of time—became, completely and perfectly, Rosette Adrian.
Rosette stood still with her arms outstretched, blinking in confusion. In front of her, Isabelle sat on the sofa, flipping through a catalog and issuing instructions with an air of effortless authority.
“That color is too dull for Rose. Something brighter.”
“Yes, my lady.”
At Isabelle’s firm words, the staff from Madame Wide’s salon sprang into action. The fabric draped over Rosette’s small frame was swiftly replaced with a cheerful yellow.
Isabelle studied her with an unreadable expression, her gaze sweeping up and down.
‘Still not good enough?’
Rosette fidgeted under the fabric, secretly fond of the yellow.
Come to think of it, at the Dales household, she had only ever worn dark colors. There had been times she’d envied Elisa’s bright dresses, but she’d given up after hearing, “Light colors just make your dull face look even duller.”
Apparently, Elisa had been right—bright clothes really did make her look wOsser.
Rosette stole a glance at the mirror.
A month had already passed since she arrived at the Adrian estate. In that time, Rosette had undergone many changes.
For one, she had gained weight from eating and sleeping well. Her once-sharp cheeks had softened slightly, and her ribs—previously visible under her skin—were now padded with a healthy layer of flesh.
She wasn’t exactly chubby, but the progress was undeniable.
That wasn’t all. Thanks to Joanne and the other maids’ diligent care, her rough, dry skin had become smooth and supple.
The sickly pallor of her face had given way to a healthy glow, and her brittle, straw-like hair now shone with vitality.
If Jane or the other orphanage children saw her now, they might not even recognize her.
But ironically, she looked different from how she had in her past life at the Dales household, too.
Though she’d been adopted there, her treatment had been closer to that of a servant.
They provided food, clothing, and shelter—but none of the grooming expected of a noble lady. So while she’d gained some weight, her rough skin and frizzy hair had never improved.
Maybe that was why her reflection still felt unfamiliar.
‘I thought I’d improved a lot, but I guess not.’
Just as she was thinking this, Isabelle—still expressionless—gave a small nod.
“Make her a day dress with that fabric. You know the design?”
Madame Wide, who had been explaining the catalog in detail, immediately began sketching on her notepad.
“I’ll create a never-before-seen design for you.”
“Make sure the waist isn’t too tight. It should be comfortable to move in.”
“Understood.”
Isabelle went on to order not just an outing dress, but indoor wear, play clothes, nightgowns—an entire wardrobe. Rosette, overwhelmed, waved her hands in protest.
“You don’t have to go that far—”
“Why not?”
“I’ll grow taller, and… and chubbier…”
“Not this again.”
Isabelle shook her head as if tired of hearing it.
