Milena pushed herself upright, her blonde hair a tangled mess.
Using the brush Ashdel handed her, she quickly ran it through her hair without much care.
There was no one she needed to impress.
After changing her clothes, she stepped outside bare-faced, without bothering with makeup.
Trailing behind her were Ashdel and the ash-gray-haired knight.
"Ash, shouldn't you be attending lessons right now?"
"It's fine."
Ashdel answered casually.
"I skipped all of them today."
"You did that on your own?"
"Don't worry, Auntie. I got Father's permission."
If that was the case, then fine.
Milena simply shrugged.
The fact that Ashdel and Callion rarely held proper conversations didn't even cross her mind.
Although the servants never treated Ashdel like the heir to the Grand Ducal House due to Callion's indifference, the education he received as the Grand Duke's son was ruthless.
A brutal curriculum designed to shape the future ruler of the duchy.
Callion himself had arranged every lesson.
Milena didn't even possess the authority to alter the boy's schedule.
Not that it mattered to her right now.
Missing a day or two of classes wouldn't ruin him.
The real problem was herself.
She was a woman about to be forced into marriage with her brother-in-law.
She had no spare energy to worry about her nephew's education.
At the moment, her thoughts revolved around only one thing.
How to escape this place.
"Welcome, My Lady. The seamstresses and dressmakers from Madam Grace Salon have arrived."
The reception room's doors stood wide open.
Inside, people bustled about in every direction.
Luxurious fabrics and extravagant gowns filled the room.
Dresses.
Dresses...
When had she last commissioned one for herself?
Milena couldn't even remember.
She had never been allowed to freely spend the Grand Ducal House's budget.
Instead, she had worn only the dresses Callion reluctantly provided.
As a result, her dressing room was filled with clothes that would have suited Lariat far more than herself.
Even when she had been given the freedom to choose—
She had only selected styles she thought Callion would like.
Right.
Because back then, she had been obsessed with him.
But now?
"Steward."
The head steward immediately stepped forward and bowed.
Whatever personal opinions he held, he never failed in his duties.
"What is this?"
"Pardon, My Lady?"
"I asked what exactly I'm looking at."
"The wedding dress, My Lady."
His answer came calmly, as if there were nothing strange about the situation.
The corner of Milena's mouth twitched.
"You don't actually think I was asking because I couldn't identify a wedding dress, do you? The esteemed steward serving His Grace's household?"
"..."
The atmosphere froze instantly.
Normally, Milena would have raised her voice when upset.
Instead, she spoke quietly.
Which was somehow far more intimidating.
Her green eyes gleamed with icy sharpness.
The white wedding dress before her was magnificent.
Beautiful.
But—
It had been made for someone else.
"Let me ask again."
Each word emerged slowly.
Deliberately.
"Why is Lariat's wedding dress here?"
Lariat and Callion's wedding.
A ceremony so extravagant it rivaled the Imperial Family itself.
Milena still remembered it vividly.
Most of all—
She remembered the dress.
A masterpiece created by the greatest tailors on the continent.
And now—
They expected her to wear it?
How was she supposed to interpret that?
Sensing the suppressed fury spreading through the room, the steward lowered his head first.
A hollow laugh escaped Milena's lips.
"Was this His Grace Callion Luxen's order?"
For perhaps the first time, the steward looked visibly uncomfortable before her calm demeanor.
Lariat had been shorter and far more delicate.
Milena was taller and considerably more curvaceous.
The dress wouldn't fit her in the first place.
Ah.
That was why the seamstresses were here.
To alter it.
Nearby lay piles of expensive fabric, prepared specifically for modifications.
"...How ridiculous."
She spoke so quietly it was nearly a whisper.
"My life, I mean."
For her entire life, she had been compared to Lariat.
She had thought things would improve once she became an adult.
But in the end—
She was nothing more than her sister's replacement.
No.
Even calling herself a replacement felt absurd.
Milena was simply—
Lariat's younger sister.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Living beneath her sister's shadow had always felt suffocating.
And now?
She had no intention of enduring it any longer.
Why should she tolerate this humiliation?
I'm supposed to be a villainess, aren't I?
The shameless woman who coveted her sister's husband.
The selfish, violent woman everyone considered beyond redemption.
The world had already decided who she was.
Fine.
She would give them exactly what they wanted.
At least until she escaped.
"Sir Knight."
The knight, who had silently observed everything, stepped forward at her call.
"May I borrow your sword?"
Shing—
The blade slid free from its sheath.
The moment everyone realized her intentions, their faces turned deathly pale.
"Aaaaaah!"
"S-Someone stop her!"
"That dress is worth a fortune! No—!"
The room erupted into screams.
Milena swung the sword at the dress.
But the weapon was far heavier than she expected.
The blade failed to slice cleanly through the fabric.
Damn it. I can't even do this properly.
Frustrated by her own lack of strength, she bit her lower lip.
Just as her grip began to weaken—
"Would you like some assistance?"
An absurdly sweet voice brushed against her ear.
"..."
The knight stepped behind her.
Large hands gently supported both her arm and her back.
"Sir Knight?"
"Just say the word."
His voice remained pleasant.
"Would you like me to tear it to shreds?"
A pause.
"Or perhaps cut it into tiny pieces?"
Isn't that basically the same thing?
More importantly—
Why was he suddenly standing so close?
She hadn't even been properly introduced to him yet.
"Sir Knight."
"Yes?"
"I would appreciate it if you stepped back a little."
"Ah. My apologies."
Fortunately, he listened immediately.
For a moment she'd wondered whether he looked down on her too.
Relieved, she exhaled.
Then—
A sharp voice cut through the room.
"Hubert. Tear it apart."
It was Ashdel.
The knight bowed.
"As you wish."
"Young Master!"
The steward cried out in horror.
For the first time ever, his composure shattered.
His face had gone completely pale.
But the ash-haired knight showed no hesitation.
Taking the sword from Milena's hand—
He swung.
The movements were so fast that an ordinary person couldn't even follow them.
One strike.
Two.
Three.
Several flashes of steel later—
The astronomically expensive dress had become nothing more than scraps.
Shreds of white fabric drifted through the air like flower petals.
Silence filled the room.
No one could speak.
Even Milena could only stare blankly.
"Auntie."
A small hand tugged on her fingers.
The warmth snapped her back to reality.
Looking down, she found Ashdel gazing up at her.
"You're not done talking to the steward, right?"
His tone was calm.
"Let's finish and leave."
Almost as if he had known all along that she intended to destroy the dress.
Perhaps years of living together had allowed him to predict her behavior.
"Right."
Milena composed herself and nodded.
"Let's do that."
The steward, still trapped in shock, visibly flinched when she approached.
Milena smiled coldly.
"Pass along a message to His Grace."
The steward swallowed hard.
"I have absolutely no intention of marrying my brother-in-law."
Mockery curled at the edge of her lips.
"And if he plans on threatening me with the curse attached to the marriage vows..."
Her smile widened.
"Then tell him to do whatever he wants."