Chapter 18

Dianne Ortenza was in low spirits. She usually was, whenever she had to spend money.

“…Isn’t there any way to fix it?”

“If we stitch it up, it’ll show. We could cover it with embroidery from one end to another, but…”

Cora shook her head. It was her way of saying the item wasn’t worth the effort.

Dianne lifted the ribbon off her vanity with two fingers. The satin ribbon was nearly torn in half. The sliver of fabric still holding it together dangled pitifully.

“I’m sorry, Miss Dianne. I think I might’ve tied it too tightly.”

“No, it’s fine. It was old. Even if it hadn’t torn today, it was only a matter of time.”

She’d used it since her days as a student. Its lifespan had long run its course. There was no real reason to be sentimental. The problem, however, was that it had been her last ribbon.

Dianne rarely spent money on her appearance as a principle. There wasn’t much point in decorating herself to catch men’s eyes when she couldn’t get married anyway.

But a ribbon? That, she needed. Her long, thick hair was her pride, but there was no going about the imperial palace with her hair loose and tumbling down her back.

“Cora. How do you buy things when you need them here at the palace?”

“There’s a merchant guild that supplies Oakhall Palace. If we tell them what we’re looking for, they’ll bring a few options to choose from. Her Highness doesn’t like picking things out herself, so Lady Ornin usually selects her accessories for her.”

That complicated things. The merchant guilds that dealt with the imperial palace were bound to trade in only expensive goods. Dianne wasn’t looking for anything fancy or rare, just something plain and sturdy enough to tie and braid her hair neatly.

‘If I were still at the grand ducal house, I could’ve just bought something from a shop in town…’

She still had the gold coins given to her by the Grand Duchess of Ervinzel as travel allowance, but it felt wasteful to spend that kind of money on something as trivial as a ribbon.

While Dianne sat there, frowning in thought, Cora hesitantly offered a suggestion.

“Perhaps you could ask one of Her Highness’s ladies-in-waiting?”

“Her ladies-in-waiting?”

Dianne had been aware of their presence ever since she first set foot in Oakhall. But even now, after moving in, she’d barely interacted with them. She’d only seen them standing quietly behind Lady Ornin, running errands now and then. Never close enough to speak.

Even if they weren’t close, was it really alright to borrow something from another noble lady?
Dianne thought it over.

They might think it was presumptuous, or worse, an inconvenience.

‘But if it were me, and a fellow young lady were in need, I wouldn’t hesitate to lend her something. And if she’s one of the princess’s ladies-in-waiting, she probably has ribbons to spare anyway.’

Having reached her conclusion, Dianne turned to Cora and asked,

“Are any of Her Highness’s maids at Oakhall right now?”

“I saw Miss Bertona earlier. She’s the one who handles Her Highness’s correspondence.”

“Then I should go greet her, and ask while I’m at it. Please just tidy up my hair with pins as best you can.”

Dianne tossed the ruined ribbon aside.

‘I shouldn’t have given that gentleman my last ribbon…’

It was too late for regrets.

* * *

Baron Aldebaran’s daughter, Young Lady Bertona, was in the princess’s reception room. As Cora had said, she was buried under a mountain of letters, battling her way through them one by one. With the princess having cut off all outside activity, the sheer volume of mail flooding into Oakhall Palace was surely unimaginable. Dianne, frowning slightly as she watched the endless cycle of opening and sorting envelopes, couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

“Excuse me, Miss Aldebaran?”

After lingering awkwardly by the doorway for some time, Dianne finally spoke, gently. The maid of the princess merely flicked her eyes up at Dianne, a simple glance, then dropped them back to the envelope she’d been opening.

The cold brush-off left Dianne stunned. Bertona had clearly noticed her.

Dianne spoke in a voice louder and clearer than before.

“Miss Aldebaran. I’m sorry to interrupt when you’re so busy, but could I trouble you for just a moment of your time?”

“If you know I’m busy, why are you bothering me?”

Dianne’s mouth dropped open in shock at the cutting words.

If it was truly something that couldn’t wait, she could’ve simply said so. If her work was that urgent, Dianne would’ve gladly waited until she finished or even returned another time.

It was an astonishingly rude attitude to take, especially toward someone she hadn’t even formally exchanged names with. They were barely acquaintances.

‘Is she Bertona Aldebaran, or Bertona Vellua?’

Judging by her attitude, one might’ve thought she was the daughter of the pot-bellied duke from the rose garden.

Dianne wanted nothing more than to turn on her heel and walk out of the reception room. But for the sake of Lady Ornin’s face, she decided to endure the rudeness just once. Forcing a light, pleasant expression, she said,

“I apologize. I hadn’t realized you were so busy. I’ll come back another time, when it’s more convenient for you.”

She said it politely, but her original plan had already dissolved completely. At this point, she didn’t want to borrow a single thread, let alone a ribbon, from someone like her.

Leaving Bertona, who still refused to acknowledge her presence, Dianne turned to exit the room. But a sharp voice sliced through the air behind her.

“I really don’t understand what Lady Ornin was thinking. Hiring a governess fit for babysitting children and setting her on the princess?”

Dianne froze in place. Her sneering voice didn’t stop there.