The Eldest Daughter Walks Down The Flower Path

Payment for her meals.

Radis, a temporary guest of the Russell Marquisate, had nothing to do even when she was going to be given a staggering total of 100 million rupens per year as her salary. So she had no choice but to feel guilty.

She took her coat off slowly.

As if waiting for this moment, a delicate touch wrapped around her waist.

The seamstress spoke.

“Then, I’ll measure the Miss.”

“Please do as you wish. Haa…”

Behind the screen, Radis could hear Yves Russel grumbling.

“‘Haa’? I’m the one who should be sighing here. I’m such a busy person, but do I have to be here just to tell you to get measured for your clothes?”

In response to his pointed complaints, Radis looked at the screen with a troubled expression.

It had been a while since she first met him, so the overwhelming first impression and the vicious rumors surrounding him had already been forgotten.

‘Marquis, you nag too much…’

In a gloomy voice, Radis replied.

“If you’re so busy, please don’t come here.”

“And if I don’t! You’ll run away! And when anyone tries to pin you down, you disappear!”

“…Because there’s nothing for me to do.”

Whether he was really angry or not, Yves Russell replied in a sarcastic tone.

“You have nothing to do? I don’t even think twenty-four hours is enough for your skin care, to do your hair, your nails.”

Those ‘to dos’ were only fun in the beginning.

She had a facial with honey mixed with a bit of salt, she was bathed in goat milk, and she had plenty of clay mixed with herbs applied to her hair so that it could grow quickly. They even put fake nails on her.

But it was fun then—only at first.

She couldn’t wash her face with anything but milk, and she was trapped inside the house so that her skin wouldn’t be so tan.

Her hair was like any other hair that would just grow at the same rate over time, but because she had to sit there with mud on her head for it to ‘grow quicker’, she couldn’t endure how itchy it was.

And the nails. Those were the worst.

Whenever she wore those long, fake nails, she couldn’t hold anything except thin utensils.

“I hate them. Do I really need them?”

“Oli…!”

Suddenly conscious of his surroundings, Yves Russel dropped the volume of his voice to a whisper.

“…Do you not want to meet Prince Olivier?”

Tempered at the mention of Olivier’s name, Radis quieted down and bowed her head.

Finally trumping over Radis’ stubbornness, Yves Russell patted her shoulders with a satisfied face.

“Alright, Radis. I have a plan, so just trust and follow me. First of all, we’re going to get you measured for a dress today. Okay?”

“…Okay.”

Inwardly, Radis could only say ‘I’m dead’ as she surrendered to the seamstress’ hands, her own arms stretched wide.

“Milady, you don’t have to worry!”

Coming from the most famous boutique in the south called 〈 Saffron 〉, a seamstress named Celia personally came to the mansion for a fitting. She pulled the tape measure tightly and spoke.

“This Celia will measure the Lady perfectly!”

“It’s fine if it’s not perfect…”

“No no, it will be the basic foundation of the dress’ production, so the Lady’s body must be measured perfectly to understand your strengths and weaknesses! I won’t allow any errors, even a hairsbreadth of it!”

Celia swung the tape measure like a whip and flitted around Radis with it, on her neck, her shoulder width, her forearm length, bust, waist, buttocks, legs and feet.

Changing her posture as Celia would instruct her to, Radis thought that it would be more efficient if they made her float or something.

After a while, the measurements were finally done and Celia took out a catalogue with fabric samples.

“Is there any color that you’d prefer for your dress?”

“…As long as it’s not pink…”

Then from behind the screen as though waiting impatiently for that moment, Yves Russell jumped to his feet and shouted.

“Silver, purple!”

“I understand, Your Excellency!”

Celia turned the thick pages of the catalogue.

Then, she stopped at a page where silver and purple fabric samples could be seen.

“The Lady’s skin tone is a little on the tan side, so I think it’s better to avoid too bright of a shade of silver.”

“It depends on the color.”

Marquis Russell walked over and took a closer look at the page where the samples were attached.

Then, he took out a patch of silver, which looked just like the color of Prince Olivier’s hair, and a patch of purple, which was the same color as the prince’s eyes.

Yves Russell asked Celia in a challenging tone.

“Can you do this? It doesn’t matter how much it’ll cost.”

“Of course!”

Radis was just dumbfounded by the color selection.

‘You’re the one who only wears black clothes…’

Then, the marquis approached her, then placed the fabric sample over her nape.

She could feel the gentle touch of the back of his hand grazing atop the hair on her neck.

‘It tickles.’

Not used to being in contact with another person, Radis flinched and shuddered.

She fixed her gaze at a faraway spot and tried to think of other things.

‘When I leave the marquisate, I’ll definitely buy wool mattresses and feathered duvets. I want to take Brendon, too, but maybe that’s not possible? If it’s the marquisate’s chef, who has a lot of pride in having been employed by the Russell’s for generations…! T-Then I can eat as much as I can before I leave…!’