Morgan stood in the garden pavilion with his arms stiff at his sides and his palms pressed against his trouser legs, looking thoroughly uncomfortable as he endured the elderly Lady Sterling's scrutiny.
Lady Jessica had already left. She cared only about the final result and had no time to concern herself with the process; too many Merchant Guild affairs still awaited her attention.
Lady Sterling gently waved the small folding fan in her hand and spoke in a leisurely tone. "So your goal is to make this young man look as pretty as possible while ensuring that even people who know him cannot easily recognize him. Is that correct?"
"Yes, yes! That's exactly right, Sis!" Gael nodded rapidly.
The moment Lady Jessica had departed, her form of address for the elderly woman had reverted from "Mother" to "Sis."
"That won't be difficult. With a face like his, making him look pretty will be as easy as eating or drinking. The real question is which style you want. A wealthy young lady? A country girl? An artsy intellectual? A Merchant Guild elite? Or something else entirely?"
"I have no idea!" Faced with Lady Sterling's question, Gael turned to Morgan. "Hey! She's asking you. What kind of beautiful girl do you like? This is your chance to transform into your ideal woman!
"I'm a very reasonable person. The choice is yours!"
Morgan's face alternated between blue and white. Only after a long pause did he force out through clenched teeth, "What...ever."
"How terribly indecisive!" Gael curled her lip, then immediately turned to the elderly woman with an ingratiating expression. "Sis, just do whatever you see fit. Go with whichever type you think suits him best!"
Altaïr, who had been watching from the sidelines, could not help interjecting. "I think character design matters more than anyone's personal aesthetic preferences.
"Morgan will be appearing alongside Lady Jessica later, so something like a country girl obviously would not suit the situation. Perhaps you could approach it from that angle, milady?"
"Hmm, that's a fair point." Lady Sterling nodded slowly. "In that case, why not style him as Jessica's secretary or assistant?
"That way, he won't look out of place when he accompanies Jessica in public."
Altaïr, Isis, Gael, and Pawdrick all nodded in unison. Only Morgan remained wooden-faced.
After quietly instructing her personal maids to prepare clothing and various cosmetics, Lady Sterling continued, "Now that we've settled on a concept, everything else will be easy.
"Your features and usual expression give you a cool, aloof beauty, so that kind of role truly suits you.
"The other major issue is concealing your identity. The key is to hide every distinctive feature of your appearance.
"You have dazzling silver-white hair. To be honest, I'm extremely fond of it. I'd even say I'm envious. Unfortunately, it is far too distinctive and must be hidden.
"Fortunately, your hair isn't too long, so we can fit you with a wig. Golden brown would work; it is a very common color and will sharply distinguish this look from your usual appearance.
"Disguising a man as a woman is an enormous challenge in most cases. No matter how beautiful the face, men and women have different bone structures.
"But you needn't worry. The sort of formal women's suit Jessica wears every day will be ideal. Its style is relatively androgynous, while the shoulder pads will perfectly conceal the fact that your shoulders are slightly broader than those of a woman with the same build.
"The hands are another key point. You're a man and a Hunter, so your fingers aren't slender or fair enough and could easily give you away. Gloves are essential."
"What about his chest? Shouldn't we pad it out? Give him a big bust so he really looks like a woman!" Gael chimed in from the side.
The elderly lady gave her the contemptuous look of a professional confronted with an amateur. "Quite the opposite. The chest can easily give him away too.
"His build suits a relatively slender, petite woman. A pair of towering breasts on that frame would draw far too much attention.
"A slight curve is enough. It will distinguish his silhouette from a man's without being so exaggerated that it becomes a flaw."
Gael shook her head, unusually willing to disagree. "Sis, no one can match your sense of fashion and styling, but you still don't understand men.
"Men are simple, single-minded creatures. Bigger breasts are better. Stuff a huge pair in there, and I guarantee that boy won't be able to look away!"
The elderly lady was speechless.
Altaïr could not help speaking up again. "Lady Gael, have you forgotten that our goal is to test Francesca's and Serl's feelings, not to seduce Serl?
"Do you really want Serl staring at Morgan's fake chest the entire time?"
Morgan: "..."
Gael visibly froze. She coughed lightly to hide her embarrassment, then put on an affected scoff and amended, "I meant to test whether that brat is shallow as a side benefit.
"If he really does fixate on the fake chest, I'll eliminate him! From the list of potential sons-in-law, I mean!"
"Shut your mouth." The elderly lady glared at Gael, clearly genuinely angry now.
Unlike Gael, who was only half serious and half in it for the entertainment, she genuinely cared about the young man who might become her granddaughter's husband.
Why was Gael adding extra tests to the plan?!
Faced with the elderly lady's blazing fury, Gael shrank back and made a zipping motion across her lips.
Once the "character design" was settled, the elderly lady threw herself into directing the preparations. Under her enthusiastic command, a large crew of skilled maids, hairstylists, seamstresses, and others soon found themselves rushing about.
There was no time to make a new outfit for Morgan on the spot, so they bought ready-made clothes in roughly the right size from a clothing shop and had the seamstress alter them there.
—--
More than two hours later, "Miss Morgan" looked like a completely different person. Even Altaïr and the others, who had witnessed the entire transformation, could not help drawing a sharp breath.
The result was undeniably beautiful. When "Miss Morgan" rose from the makeup chair and stood before them, only Altaïr quickly looked away, for the simple reason that his girlfriend was standing right beside him.
Isis was full of envy, while Gael could not stop clicking her tongue in admiration.
More than the beauty itself, what truly stunned everyone was how utterly seamless and natural the transformation looked, without a single flaw or trace of incongruity.
When they first discussed dressing Morgan as a beautiful woman, everyone had pictured much the same thing. They imagined an elaborate gown with a complex design, voluminous blond curls, heavy makeup, and perhaps even a hint of cleavage.
In short, it was the average person's idea of "a noble young lady at a banquet."
The actual result was completely different from what they had imagined.
Now, "Miss Morgan" wore a crisp, perfectly fitted women's suit that did not look too severe, a meticulously groomed hairstyle without a single strand out of place, makeup so skillfully applied that a man with no knowledge of cosmetics could not even tell it was there, and, as the final masterstroke, a pair of rimless glasses.
Who could possibly tell that this was actually a male Hunter?
Even Morgan was a little taken aback when he saw his reflection in the mirror, but in truth, he also breathed a secret sigh of relief.
The "pretty women's clothes" he had imagined were much the same as what everyone else had pictured. By comparison, these restrained clothes and understated makeup were far easier for him to accept. No, wait! What am I thinking? I'm doing all this to become stronger!
Lady Jessica, who seemed to have arrived right on cue, raised an eyebrow slightly and let out an "Mm-hmm."
"Not bad. For the next few hours, your identity is that of my new assistant. Get rid of that conflicted look. Lift your chin a little and rein in your expressions.
"No, not that kind of haughty, nose-in-the-air expression. I mean a cool indifference toward anything extraneous. Treat yourself as a tool.
"Good, just like that. You learn quickly. I'm a little surprised, honestly."
Behind Isis, Clawdia muttered quietly, "What's there to learn, meow? That's how he always acts, meow..."
The group crowded around "Miss Morgan" for a while, offering critiques and comments, when an attendant suddenly came to report.
Francesca had arrived in the entrance hall with Serl and the others.
"You all go ahead and enjoy your dinner. We'll make our entrance when the time is right." Lady Jessica left them with those words before departing with Morgan, now transformed into "Miss Secretary."
"Wh-what should I do once we're in there?" Isis suddenly became very nervous.
Altaïr knew Isis could not act, much less deceive anyone. To avoid giving the plan away, he had no choice but to ask Lady Gael, "Could you have the chefs serve dishes in large portions?
"They don't need to be fancy, just hearty enough to stand up to the way Isis wolfs down food."
"Huh? Oh, of course!" Gael sent someone to pass the instructions to the kitchen.
Altaïr turned to Isis and said seriously, "You don't need to do anything for a while, and definitely don't talk much to Francesca. Just keep your head down and focus on eating. That will look more natural.
"Leave everything else to us."
* * *
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