I finally left the cartman behind and hurried after my lady. In front of the boutique stood the most exquisite blue gown I had ever seen — soft silk embroidered with threads of gold, shimmering beneath the sunlight. It was displayed proudly on a mannequin like a jewel meant to be admired.

“It’s beautiful… You will look beautiful in this dress,” I murmured without thinking.

“But it looks expensive, Alan,” she said softly, pressing her palm against the cold glass.

“I wasn’t talking about the price,” I replied, smiling faintly. “I said you will look gorgeous in this dress. Let’s go buy it.”

“Oh, this shop is famous for its dresses, my lady. Even the Queen Mother buys clothes from here,” the cartman said from behind.

Before she could protest, I gently caught her hand and led her inside.

The boutique was silent — empty, elegant, and far too quiet.

“This shop is famous, yet no one’s here?” she asked curiously.

“Perhaps,” I said under my breath, “it’s too expensive for most.”

Just then, a middle-aged woman appeared from the back. She smiled — though not kindly.

“Yes, honey. What can I do for you?” she asked, eyes already judging.

“Um, we were thinking of buying the dress that’s displayed on the mannequin,” my lady said politely.

The woman stepped back slightly, scanning us from head to toe, her lips curving with mockery.

“Hmm… honey, do you even have the money? That dress is worth so much you could probably buy the royal palace of Sylarion with it! Haha!”

Her laughter burned my patience. How could she mock us without knowing who we were? Could she not even show basic respect to a customer?

“Oh! It’s that expensive? Then no need — we’ll look at other dresses instead,” my lady said gently, trying to keep peace.

But I couldn’t let it go.

“Oh, if you can’t afford that dress, then you surely can’t afford any of the others either,” the woman replied coldly. “You see, it’s quite common — my boutique is always quiet.”

“Oh, so it’s that expensive here… Alan, let’s go to another shop,” she said, turning to leave.

Before she could take a step, I walked closer to the arrogant woman, my tone low and sharp.

“If you don’t wish to regret living another day,” I whispered, my voice deadly calm, “you’ll give her that dress — and we’ll give you the money.”

The woman froze. “Wh-who are you to say that?!”

“You’ll know soon enough — at the royal ball,” I said, meeting her terrified gaze. “Until then, you don’t need to know.”

She ran outside, trembling. A few moments later, she returned — her entire demeanor changed.

“Ohoho! My lady! I almost forgot — we’re running a special discount! You can absolutely have that dress at the lowest price possible!” she chirped.

I smiled, satisfied that my persuasion worked.

“There’s… a discount?” my lady asked, blinking.

“Yes, my lady,” I said smoothly. “I negotiated with her — she agreed to a discount. We can get the dress.”

She brightened instantly. “Really? That’s wonderful!”

After a few minutes, the tailor took her measurements and promised that the gown would be ready by tomorrow.

“Huh? I didn’t even get to try it on,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s needed,” I said, smiling softly. “I already know you’ll look breathtaking in that dress — no matter what.”

Because I had already imagined it.

“So, shall we look for other dresses?” I asked, guiding her toward the other sections.

After choosing a few more gowns, I instructed the boutique owner to send them all to the royal castle by tomorrow before noon.

As we left, she clasped her hands together with delight. “Oh, that was fun! Let’s go somewhere else! Alan, do you know any exciting place?”

“Of course I do!” I said, smiling.

After a few hours, we arrived.

“Alan? What’s this place?” she asked, stepping down from the carriage.

“It’s the Grand Opera House!” I said proudly.

✨Bella’s POV:

It’s been more than an hour since we arrived here. I sighed, feeling restless but kept quiet — Alan looked so happy that I didn’t want to ruin it for him.

“Alan, when is this skit going to end?” I asked hopefully.

“It’ll take one more hour, my lady! Look, this scene is so funny — haha!” he said, laughing like a child.

Seeing him happy made me smile too… but I was suffocating in this enormous gown. The air felt heavy, my back sticky with sweat, yet I endured.

Finally, after a long and sweaty hour, the skit ended. I bolted outside the opera house, Alan following behind.

“Haah… finally,” I gasped, breathing in the cool night air.

“Ah, my lady, did you not enjoy the play? You seemed so… distant,” he asked, looking worried.

“No, no! I was just too mesmerized by the performance. I focused so much that I probably looked bored when I wasn’t!” I said quickly, hoping to convince him.

But before he could answer, chaos erupted.

A sudden rush of people came running toward us. “My lady, hold onto my hand — tightly!” Alan said urgently.

The crowd grew louder, pushing and shoving. It turned out the lead actors had come outside, and everyone surged forward to see them.

I tried to hold on to Alan’s hand — but the force of the crowd tore us apart.

“Alan—!”

If felt as if someone grabbed me from behind— a stranger’s hand — and began pulling me away. My strength was fading, my vision blurring. I couldn’t fight. I just followed, hoping Alan would find me.

After what felt like forever, the pulling stopped. My knees buckled, and I blinked against the haze.

I was in an empty corner — dark and isolated.

And before me stood a figure in black attire — a woman, cloaked and silent. She held something sharp in her hand.

Slash.

“Ah—!” I screamed as pain tore through my arm. It wasn’t deep, but it burned.

The woman said nothing. She just stared — then vanished into the shadows as swiftly as she came.

I fell to the ground, trembling. “Alan…” My tears mixed with the dust beneath me. “Please… help.”

I heard distant footsteps.

“My lady! Where are you?!” His voice. Desperate. Breathless.

“Alan…” I tried to lift my head, my voice barely above a whisper.

Then I saw him — running toward me, eyes wide with fear.

“My lady—!” He rushed forward, kneeling beside me. His hands trembled as he lifted me gently.

He glanced at the blood staining my sleeve. “You’re hurt? How— It’s bleeding! We need a doctor!”

I wanted to speak, to calm him, but exhaustion won. My world spun.

He carried me swiftly through the streets until we reached the physician.

“Doctor! Her arm — it’s bleeding! Help her!” he shouted.

The doctor inspected it calmly. “Relax, sir. It’s just a surface wound. She’s not going to die—”

“Don’t you dare say that word!” Alan snapped, his voice shaking with fury.

“Why are you.. scaring him, Alan?” I said softly. “He’s right — it’s not serious.”

“But, my lady, you’re the one feeling the pain — not him. How could he speak so casually when you’re suffering?” he said, his hand trembling as it rested over mine.

I smiled faintly and placed my uninjured hand over his. “Don’t worry, Alan. I’ll be fine.”

After a few minutes, the doctor bandaged my arm, and the throbbing eased. Alan went out to get the carriage ready.

“Your husband cares a lot,” the doctor teased.

I laughed softly. “He’s not my husband, Doctor.”

“Oh? Then your fiancé, I presume?”

I smiled again but said nothing.

When Alan returned, we left for the palace. The sun was already dipping low, painting the sky gold and crimson.

After a long ride, we arrived — only to find another carriage waiting outside. It was ornate, adorned with royal sigils, and unmistakably majestic.

“He’s back,” Alan murmured.

“Who?” I asked.

He turned to me slowly, his eyes unreadable.

“Alexander — the King. Your fiancé, my lady.”

My heart stopped.

“What—what?!”