3 — Your Job is to Socialize

Mr. Fisalis started returning to the main house after work, the number of people there to greet him grew, and the Cercis Shift had slowly become normal, everyday practice.

“We’ve received an invitation to a party,” he said as soon as he got home one day, handing me a white envelope.

Oh no, what’s with this feeling of déjà vu?

I took the envelope from him and turned it over to see if the crest belonged to you-know-who again, cheek already twitching.

It was not the royal crest pressed into the sealing wax on the back, but a different one, belonging to another well-known family.

Smiling at my reaction to the wax seal, Mr. Fisalis explained, “It’s not from the Royal Palace this time. It’s from the Argenteia family.”

“The Argenteias?” I craned my neck to look up at him and blinked.

The Argenteias were the most prestigious family in the kingdom after the Fisalises. Naturally, since they were all elite aristocrats, they were practically gods compared to my own impoverished family.

“That’s right. I told them you weren’t good with socializing, but we can’t refuse them now. They’ve been friends with my family for a long time, and their sons are my old childhood friends. Do it for me?” Mr. Fisalis asked me with a slight frown.

Oh, that reminds me of what Dahlia said. Before he met Calendula, he often played escort to Miss Verbena.

“I see. Alright, I will.” Even I couldn’t refuse, given the circumstances.

That doesn’t mean I’m thrilled about it, though.

Mr. Fisalis’ radiant smile reappeared in relief when he saw me nod in agreement.

“Thank you. The soiree is in two weeks. Oh, you’ll need a new dress, won’t you?”

“Er, sure?” My eyes flew open wide at how easily the statement rolled off his tongue. Funds were clearly not an issue.

Here he goes again, wasting more money!

I still have piles of dresses I haven’t worn (and that’s no exaggeration!), and I haven’t worn my last party dress even once since then.

Can’t I just alter one I already have?

Some other wealthy girl might be thrilled to get an expensive dress, but I, true to form, would not be. Buying expensive things embarrasses me, and besides, I prefer to use my favorite things meaningfully.

It doesn’t seem like that message has gotten through to Mr. Fisalis.

“I’ll ask for Madame, again. What color should we go with this time?” he asked, his eagerness to buy me a new dress in total opposition to my desire to save money.

He’s got some crazy idea; I can see it in his absentminded smile. He had better not be thinking of matching outfits again! I flat out refuse to look like one of those painfully awkward couples!

“Stopstopstopstop. Could you pleeease wait a minute?” I said, trying to put a halt on things. I got the feeling he had already taken it upon himself to have a chat with Madame.

“What is it?”

“I have tons of new dresses already, and I’ve even still got one that was made for that earlier party.”

“I can’t have you wear a dress you’ve already worn once! And the dresses that you have here are your everyday clothes. They’re just dresses that were rushed out when you married into the family, so some of them might not even be to your liking. Now, she can make a dress that suits you—one that accentuates your beauty!” he declared, his smiling eyes turning serious. Silk, chiffon, antique lace—I was nearly moved to tears by the veritable canyon between our values that enabled him to declare that dresses so lavishly made with these luxury fabrics were everyday wear.

And he said it would “accentuate my beauty” but, I guess when I think about it, I’d be the one the dress was accentuating. I mean, that’s obvious.

It seemed unlikely, though, that overexcited Mr. Fisalis would accept my rejection.

“Ugh, but I don’t mind if we alter the dress from the other day,” I protested, growing slightly teary-eyed.

“If you want it altered, I can certainly have that done, but can’t we have one tailor-made for this party? It’ll be a present from me, so there’s no need to feel bad about accepting it.” His expression did a complete one-eighty, his broad smile shining as he flatly rejected me.

Afterwards:

“If he’s giving it to you, you should just take it! Say, Madam. What style do you want it to be this time?” said Mimosa, wriggling her fingers and chuckling like some kind of predator at the mere thought of dressing me up.

“There’s no need to worry about that, Madam, since it will be a gift from Master,” Dahlia intervened, having made me some tea once I had calmed down a little.

“Yeah, I’ll indulge him,” I said, even though I had already started working on altering the dress from before.

Even if I don’t wear it this time around, I’m sure I could get some more use out of it, or I could give it to my sister if she wants it.

The day of the party:

I ended up wearing a subdued violet dress. It was another haute couture masterpiece from the same dressmaker as last time and Mimosa, with a voluminous design to compensate for my flat chest.

This silhouette is all the rage right now: an elegant draping that starts just below the bustline. I’m impressed, Madame!

My necklace featured teardrop-shaped sapphires arranged like flowers, overlaid with diamond leaves and grasses. Although not complex, it was quite impressive—enough so that I got the shivers just thinking of how much it was worth.

Yeah... Best I don’t see the price tag.

I feel transformed into utter perfection, too, thanks to Mimosa and her cheery Spa Squad.

I’m suited up and ready for battle—I mean, the party.

By my side was Mr. Fisalis, who had very much been hoping we’d have a coordinated look, but I went out of my way to avoid that by indecisively mentioning different colors at every opportunity. Despite my efforts, an ascot matching my dress peaked out from under his shirt collar.

See, that’s plenty.

He was dressed entirely in dark colors.

“That dress looks simply stunning on you!” he complimented me, flashing a magnificent smile.

“Thank you for having it made for me. It’s absolutely wonderful.”

“Oh, a dress like this is nothing! I can have her make more if you wa—”

“This one’s plenty! I just won’t wear it enough. It’s not like I plan on going to a lot of parties!”

“Oh?” His disappointment was written clearly across his face... Not that I paid that any attention.

“Absolutely! Now, let’s get going.” I cut the conversation short and prompted Mr. Fisalis to get a move on.

If we’d kept talking, he’d just start on about having more dresses made for me again!

What now? Don’t give me that look. Do you want to be left behind?

Duke Argenteia’s mansion gave the Fisalis manor a run for its money.

Wowww. I think ours is still bigger, though.

Oh, jeez, what am I doing, acting proud about my house? Let’s put that thought back where it came from.

If I were to describe the Fisalis mansion (more like palace!) as a beautiful, verdant garden, then I suppose the Argenteia mansion is like a crystal-blue waterway. The Wahl River ran through the estate grounds, and one of the manor’s corridors was even built right over it, giving the whole design an extremely refined feeling.

Mr. Fisalis escorted me inside, where I was greeted by the pleasant sound of laughter spilling out from behind the doors and flowing through the hallways.

It’s been so long since my last time out... I’m so nervous!

Don’t think like that! You can do it! Your outfit and makeup are on point and Mr. Fisalis is not only here with you, but he looks stellar, too! You have nothing to be scared of! I cheered myself on internally, like my own private battle cry.

After introducing myself to the hosts, Duke and Duchess Argenteia, as well as Mr. Fisalis’ old friends and their sons, we made our way towards the site of the party.

This time, I came prepared for other women, turned green with envy, to whisper, “it’s her!”

Bring it on! Huh???? What, no, I’m not shaking!

The moment we set foot in the room, everyone’s gazes turned towards us in a flash.

You were all so animated and chatty a second ago. Don’t just go quiet like that! I was ready for an argument, but not to suddenly become the center of attention! Cut it out, you’ve got me frozen in fear!

After a moment, however, everyone went back to the way they’d been before, chatting and laughing.

The room was lively, but not raucous, with everyone indulging in conversation, wine, and hors d’oeuvres, which made for an altogether welcoming atmosphere. Looking over the area, I could see that there were a great many people there.

Considering the Argenteias are among the most elite families in the entire kingdom, not only were a whole lot of people invited, but it seems like they all actually showed up, too. The guests aren’t limited to a single age bracket, either: young, old, men, women... There seem to be equal numbers of all in attendance.

Though it does look like most of the people dancing are young. Figures, you need strength to dance.

I took my time watching them.

As for myself, Mr. Fisalis escorted me around the room as I introduced myself; but, as if to undermine all the work I put in to preparing myself for battle, all I received was:

“My my, Duchess Fisalis, you look beautiful tonight. May I have this dance?”

Invitations to dance from gentlemen young and old alike, and:

“Give the men a break and come chat with us!”

Invitations to some private girl-talk from the ladies.

I did not happen to come across any women turning green with envy, either.

How strange. You can always count on trouble at fancy parties in all the popular romance novels.

Oh well. It’s better for everyone that we’re all friendly.

For the time being, I replied to both invitations with a simple “It would be my pleasure” and forced a little smile as I told myself: you’re a noble. Socializing is your job.

At that point, Mr. Fisalis and I became separated as I was swept away by a man who had asked for a dance.

I wondered where Mr. Fisalis had disappeared to, so I casually searched for him as I made my rounds and found that he, too, was busy dancing and talking near where we had been separated. Our eyes met several times, and even from that far away, I could see he was concerned about me.

I danced with total concentration, never missing a step or losing the rhythm.

“You are a talented dancer, Duchess,” complimented my gentleman partner.

Please don’t talk to me—you’ll make me mess up!

“Oh? I thought I was just barely keeping up,” I replied humbly, with a half-heartedly elegant smile. Honestly, though, I was being more honest than humble.

Talking while dancing was a rather high-level skill for me.

Because then I have to concentrate extra hard to make sure this smile I’ve plastered on my face doesn’t slide right off!

“Not at all. Not everyone can dance with this much composure. Your steps and deportment are simply flawless!” my grinning partner said.

I’m so sorry. You’ve just given me such a nice compliment, but I’ve completely forgotten your name.

“Thank you for your kind words,” I answered shyly, looking at my feet.

“You must have an amazing dance teacher.”

“Teacher? Oh, more like torturer...”

“Torturer!?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that! Just a slip of the tongue, ahahaha! He’s a very nice teacher!”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Caaareful. I almost revealed Demon Instructor Rohtas’ true nature to a mere mortal.

Laughing it off, I was able to finish the dance without anymore slip-ups, making small talk all the while.

Mustn’t let him see my true nature, either.

As for the girl-talk, it was all women who were around my mother’s age, so it was less like bathroom gossip and more like a women’s club.

I had only just finished dancing and was still a bit out of breath; however, just as I was about to sit down after being offered a seat, I remembered how expensive my dress was.

I had better be careful sitting down so I don’t wrinkle it! I lightly adjusted my dress with as much care as possible to avoid creases, and gently took a seat.

The conversation picked back up once I’d sat down.

“I hear your estate’s garden is exceedingly elegant, Duchess.”

“We have a very skilled gardener to thank for that.”

“Our gardener specializes in bonsai.”

“Oh, how wonderful! What kind?”

“Er, a bit of everything, they’re imported...”

Everyone was very friendly, but the conversation was only happening between themselves.

Oh well, I guess this is what they call the generation gap. I’m just not on the same wavelength as them. I like gardening as much as the next girl, but I have yet to feel the urge to grow bonsai! I’m only eighteen, after all! I’m not even sure how to join this conversation.

Why am I here, again?

Tired from the dancing and uninvolved in the conversation, I started to zone out.

I had quietly picked up a glass to quench my dry throat, but I didn’t want to be rude and drink right as someone was talking, so I turned away from the others for a covert little sip when:

“Your posture is so beautiful, Madam,” commended a countess (whose name I could not remember), admiring my movements.

“You really think so?” I could not recall having ever been complimented on that before, and cocked my head in surprise.

“Oh, yes. Everything you do is very refined—not a single wasted movement at all! I ought to have you tutor my daughter!” said a marchioness (name also forgotten) as she nodded excitedly in apparent agreement.

“You’ve clearly practiced very hard,” said another countess.

I don’t know whether I’d call it practice or abuse...

No, this time I think it’s just random coincidence.

Anyhow, the results of the party:

My “Rainy Day Schedule” proved to be efficient on the whole.

Incredible work, everyone! I’m glad I listened to what the servants said! I’m on your side from here on out!

These were the thoughts running through my head as I nodded along to what one of the ladies was saying, when someone with a clear, penetrating voice like a small bell called my name from behind me.

“Miss Viola! I haven’t seen you in a while!”

Where have I heard that voice before?

When I turned around, there was Iris Sanguinneah, whose acquaintance I had made at my last soiree, her almond eyes crinkled in delight.

She was in a fluttery rosy pink dress tonight as well.

The same look as before!

“Oh, Miss Iris. It’s good to see you, again! ...Pardon me for a moment, everyone.”

I excused myself from the ‘women’s club’ and went over to where Miss Iris was standing.

I couldn’t help but think, my savior has come for me!