Consumed by emotions she could barely contain, Milena returned to her room.
Her hands trembled with fury, clenching and unclenching repeatedly as though trying to physically expel the anger raging inside her.
The dress she wore—worth enough to buy an entire estate—had been torn to shreds.
Yet she didn't feel the slightest bit of regret.
If anything, realizing just how little she had been valued all this time only strengthened her determination to leave.
I need to get out.
I need to prepare thoroughly and leave this place for good.
But...
How long are these people planning to follow me around?
Even in her private room, men continued to linger nearby.
Milena's eyebrow twitched irritably.
"Ashdel. Aren't you leaving?"
"Nope. Not leaving."
She turned toward the other offender.
"Excuse me, Sir Knight. This is my room."
"I'm on duty."
The shameless answer nearly made her blood pressure rise.
Strangely, though, both of them looked so calm and natural in this ridiculous situation that she found herself calming down too.
Right.
Privacy didn't exist in this place.
Accepting that fact, she walked straight to the dressing room and pulled open the door.
"Auntie, are we finally leaving now? Should I bring my travel bag?"
Milena looked down at Ashdel, who appeared seconds away from glowing with excitement, and let out a tired laugh.
Why is he so happy?
Was this castle suffocating for him too?
"I'm just going out for some fresh air."
She glanced toward the knight.
"That's allowed, right? Surely I don't need the Duke's permission just to leave the castle."
"As you wish."
The knight shrugged as if to say, Why are you asking me?
Milena narrowed her eyes.
Is he really Callion's knight?
Perhaps her suspicion showed on her face.
Ashdel tugged lightly on the hem of her skirt.
"Auntie, can I come too?"
"You?"
That was unexpected.
Ashdel had never once left the castle.
Not even once.
He had never seemed interested either.
People, toys, books, entertainment—everything was brought directly to him.
He had lacked nothing.
Which meant he had never had a reason to leave.
"Sure."
She was just about to tell him they could go together—
Knock. Knock.
A knock sounded at the door.
Everyone standing near the dressing room turned toward it simultaneously.
"Young Master, are you inside?"
"..."
When no answer came, the person outside continued immediately.
"His Grace is requesting your presence. He asks that you come to his office at once."
And there it is.
Milena didn't even bother looking back.
She strode across the room and yanked the door open.
"Why is only Ashdel being summoned?"
The head butler visibly flinched when she suddenly appeared.
Had he already reported what happened earlier to Callion?
Honestly, she disliked every single person in this household.
"There were no instructions concerning you, Lady Milena."
"But you know what I did, don't you?"
Surely Ashdel hadn't reported the incident with the dress.
At her pointed stare, the butler lowered his head uncomfortably.
"Yes. As you requested, I informed His Grace of the situation."
He hesitated.
"However... he had nothing to say regarding the matter."
Milena frowned.
She had destroyed one of the late Duchess's treasured dresses.
And Callion was simply letting it go?
That was a problem in itself.
"Then why is only Ashdel—"
"Auntie."
Before she could continue, Ashdel stepped forward.
The boy smiled reassuringly.
Then he followed the butler before she could stop him.
"Oh, right. I had something I wanted to discuss with Father too."
He scratched his cheek.
"I completely forgot. I'll be back soon."
Then he pointed at the knight.
"Take good care of Auntie. You know what to do if something happens, right?"
It was a strangely meaningful statement.
Yet the knight merely nodded once.
Ashdel clicked his tongue, waved at Milena, and disappeared down the hallway.
"Aren't you worried?"
Milena watched him leave before glancing sideways at the knight.
He was truly impossible to understand.
Was he actually a knight?
Or just some strange man doing whatever he wanted?
Then again, it wasn't as if Callion would assign one of his best knights to her.
He was probably someone left over.
Milena shrugged.
"What is there to worry about?"
A faint smile touched her lips.
"He may look young, but he's perfectly capable of speaking his mind."
She had never viewed Ashdel as just a child.
He was the Duke's son.
He couldn't remain a child forever.
And most importantly—
My Ashdel is a genius.
It sounded like the biased pride of an overprotective aunt.
But even professors from the Royal Academy had acknowledged his talent.
There had even been discussions about admitting him as the youngest student in history.
So she trusted him.
The only thing that worried her...
Was what would happen after she left.
"Shall we go?"
"..."
The silent knight stared at her for a moment before following.
He truly was an unreadable man.
As they walked through the castle corridors, the servants' gazes followed her.
Filled with the same contempt and disdain as always.
Five years had passed since Lariat's death.
Nothing had changed.
The servants still bowed because she was both a count's daughter and the late Duchess's sister.
But they couldn't hide their expressions.
If the atmosphere was this bad inside the castle, the city below couldn't be much different.
Luxen—the largest commercial city in the North—was bustling as usual.
To avoid unnecessary attention, Milena pulled her hood low over her face.
That was also why she had chosen an ordinary carriage instead of one bearing the Grand Ducal crest.
The atmosphere's nice.
The city she once viewed only with bitterness now seemed vibrant and alive.
Perhaps her perspective had changed.
What once appeared rough and dirty now looked exciting and full of possibility.
As she wandered through the streets, the knight followed silently behind her.
She had truly intended only to take a walk and clear her head.
Then her footsteps suddenly stopped.
A dress displayed behind a shop window caught her eye.
Deep emerald green.
Milena stared.
Her dressing room had always been filled with clothes chosen to suit Lariat.
Her entire life had revolved around her sister.
Nothing had ever truly belonged to her.
But that dress—
For some reason, it felt like it would suit her.
"Would you like to go inside?"
The knight, who only spoke when he felt like it, was the one who suggested it first.
Milena glanced at his reflection in the glass.
He stood a full head taller than her.
Why does he keep hiding his face?
His sharp features remained obvious despite the hair covering them.
And that red earring looked completely out of place with a knight's uniform.
Did he actually think that disguise was convincing?
She was curious.
Just not curious enough to ask.
Without another word, she entered the boutique.
Ding—
A bell chimed.
The shop owner emerged immediately.
"Welcome to—"
Her cheerful greeting died halfway through.
Milena had lowered her hood.
The infamous villainess of the Grand Ducal House was standing inside her store.
Still—
A professional never discriminated against customers.
The owner instantly composed herself and displayed the warmest smile she could manage.
Everyone knew what kinds of dresses Milena usually bought.
If she showed the colors and styles favored by the late Duchess, the sale would be easy.
Working quickly, the owner brought out the newest fabrics and dresses.
"The latest designs from the South! They're expected to become the next major trend throughout the Empire!"
Milena barely looked at them.
The owner's throat went dry.
Is she about to cause a scene?
But Milena simply pointed elsewhere.
"Not those."
She gestured toward another section.
"The dress by the window. That one. And that one too."
The owner hesitated.
Those choices weren't Milena's usual style at all.
Still—
The customer was always right.
"Of course. I'll prepare them immediately."
"I can try them on now, right?"
"Naturally."
And then, contrary to everyone's expectations—
"Oh."
Milena knew exactly what suited her.
The moment she put on the dress, an audible gasp escaped the room.
She looked completely different.
"My goodness, Lady Milena! It looks incredible on you!"
For once, it wasn't flattery.
The admiration was genuine.
Standing before the mirror, Milena examined herself silently.
Then she spoke.
"The skirt volume should be reduced."
She touched the fabric thoughtfully.
"And add a slit along the side."
The shop owner's eyes widened.
That wasn't the opinion of a customer.
It was the eye of a professional designer.
"You've finally..."
The owner smiled.
"...found your own style."
After twenty-eight years.
Milena stared at her reflection.
Then nodded.
"I think so too."
And for the very first time—
Milena smiled.