"No, that washes her out — try that maroon over there," Marceline said, gesturing toward a fabric on the right.
The seamstress hurried over, retrieved the fabric, and draped it over Zarah's shoulder as she stood on the slightly raised platform.
Iris clicked her tongue from where she sat beside Marceline.
"No… maybe a shade darker? Try that one instead," she said, pointing at another maroon fabric.
Marceline smiled, impressed.
The seamstress rushed to comply.
Zarah sighed.
The two of them were menaces.
Iris hadn't been like this back in the brothel while choosing clothes, but the vast selection in the Imperial Palace — and the joy of not having to worry about money — must have brought this side out of her.
"Those are literally the same colour," Zarah protested.
"No, they are not," Marceline objected.
"One is slightly darker than the other," Iris added.
Marceline glanced at Iris again, her smile widening.
"You have an excellent eye for colour, Lady Iris."
Her gaze drifted over the dresses Iris had chosen.
"Thank you, Lady Peirce," Iris replied with a smile. "Though my taste hardly compares to your talent for matching accessories."
Her eyes flicked toward the pile of jewels Marceline had selected.
'Those two have already gotten chummy,' Zarah thought.
She frowned as the seamstress draped yet another fabric over her shoulders.
Zarah exhaled.
Next time, she would make sure to keep her belongings safe—
So she wouldn't have to go dress shopping with them again.
As they finished selecting fabrics and accessories, Marceline rose from the sofa and turned to the seamstress.
"Once the dresses are completed, have them delivered to Lady Iris's and Lady Zarah's chambers. For now…" she paused thoughtfully, "prepare about thirty ready-made dresses for Lady Zarah."
She glanced back at Zarah.
"Will thirty suffice, or should I have more brought from the capital?"
Zarah's eyes widened.
More? Was Marceline out of her mind? What would she even do with so many dresses?
"No, no, Lady Peirce — that is more than enough. Please don't trouble yourself further," Zarah said quickly, trying not to panic.
Marceline sighed lightly. "No? But I insist."
Then she turned to Iris.
"Lady Iris," she said, taking her hands, "will you accompany me next time I go to select dresses?"
Iris, who had been slightly cautious before, now beamed.
"Of course, Lady Peirce! I would love to."
Zarah blinked.
Wait… since when had those two gotten close enough to make plans?
Well… it wasn't her concern. As long as they didn't drag her into their—
"Oh, and do tell Lady Zarah to accept the rest of the dresses. Consider it a personal gift — I enjoyed my time with you both."
Iris nodded immediately.
"Of course, Lady Peirce. Do not worry — she agrees."
She shot Zarah a look that clearly said: Don't you dare refuse.
"And next time, the three of us shall visit that magnificent boutique in the capital," Marceline added.
"Three?" Zarah repeated, eyes widening as she looked between them.
"But my lady, I don't think we can afford such a place—" Iris began.
Marceline waved a hand dismissively.
"Oh, do not concern yourself with such trivial matters. If I am taking you, it is only proper that I pay."
Iris agreed without hesitation.
The three of them began walking back toward Iris's chamber.
Zarah resisted the urge to shake her.
It seemed Iris had developed quite the liking for shopping.
And going along with it was the least Zarah could do…
Even if it meant standing there while Iris debated between three nearly identical shades of red.
As they neared Iris's chamber, Zarah felt a sudden warmth wrap around her.
She froze.
"What was that?" she asked aloud.
Iris stopped and turned back immediately. "What happened, Zar?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.
Marceline paused as well, her brows knitting slightly. "Are you feeling unwell, Lady Zarah?"
Zarah couldn't explain it.
It had felt as though a strong aura had enveloped her — soft, warm… almost like an embrace.
Not just any embrace.
One a family might share after being apart for far too long.
Her breath faltered.
She glanced around, searching for the source of that strange sensation.
What was that?
Where had it come from?
Iris stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Hey… what's wrong?" she asked gently.
Zarah blinked and came back to herself, her gaze slightly unfocused.
"Huh? It's nothing… I'm fine," she said, offering a weak smile.
Iris frowned, unconvinced by Zarah — but before she could question her, a voice interrupted them.
"Lady Marceline, what a pleasure to see you here."
They turned toward the speaker. A man with blond hair and green eyes approached, his steps calm and measured.
The strange aura Zarah had sensed earlier softened further as he drew closer, settling into something almost… familiar.
Marceline's lips curved into a bright smile.
"Lord Nolan? You're back already? What a happy coincidence."
Zarah stared at him, unblinking.
Nolan?
She didn't remember anyone by that name from the webcomic.
Who was he?
And why did his presence make her feel like this?
Had she forgotten some hidden side character? Or had he been relevant all along — and she simply hadn't paid enough attention?
Her thoughts were abruptly cut off when Iris, standing beside her, pinched her hand lightly — a silent warning that she was staring.
Nolan, it seemed, had already noticed.
He was looking at Zarah as though trying to understand something.
"Well, Her Majesty assigned me to investigate a Flower Maiden's trashed room. I've already found the culprit— I simply came to inform the victim… Lady Zarah?" Nolan said, though his gaze shifted back to Marceline.
That blonde girl…
She was definitely related to him.
Long ago, at the founding of the Caelthra Empire, the Goddess Aelthrya had blessed the Patriarch of the Zepher family. His descendants would bear a unique aura — and, in each other's presence, recognize their bloodline through it.
The aura radiating from that girl…
There was no doubt.
She had Zepher blood.
But—
Nolan hadn't been in the presence of his family for nearly eighteen years… since they had all perished.
Could she be the illegitimate child of someone from a branch family?
A hidden descendant?
Marceline's voice broke through his thoughts.
She pointed toward Zarah with a smile.
"That's Lady Zarah."
Zarah straightened and bowed politely.
Iris followed suit.
Marceline continued, "And this is Duke Nolan Zepher, Captain of the Imperial Guards."
Zarah froze.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
Zepher?
That wasn't possible.
That couldn't be.
Hadn't the entire Zepher family died?
Then who was he?
To hold the title of Duke, he had to be Sebastian's brother…
Which meant—
Was he her uncle?
Or some distant relative?
What was going on?
Why hadn't he been mentioned in the webcomic?
Was this some kind of butterfly effect?
Beside her, Iris stiffened as well. Though Zarah's expression remained neutral, Iris could tell — she was internally spiraling.
They both straightened.
Nolan spoke, his tone curt.
"The one responsible for the state of your chamber has been apprehended, Lady Zarah."
Zarah nodded, though her thoughts were still scattered.
There was no way Melody would be caught so easily.
This had to be a scapegoat.
"Who is it?" she asked, suppressing a sigh.
"It's Lady Celine."
Iris's eyes widened. She immediately looked at Zarah, who returned the gaze with equal shock.
"Celine?" Zarah repeated, skepticism clear in her voice.
"Yes," Nolan replied, one brow lifting slightly at their reactions as he briefly exchanged a glance with Marceline.
No.
That couldn't be right.
Celine might have been petty — a tattletale, even— but this?
No.
She cared too much about her image to do something so crude.
This was a setup.
Celine was being framed.
From the look in Iris's eyes, she had reached the same conclusion.
"Are you certain it's Celine… Duke Zepher?" Zarah asked carefully.
Nolan produced a ruby bracelet, holding it up between his fingers.
"This was found beneath your dressing table," he said. "Additionally, a lotus hairpin was discovered among Lady Celine's belongings. When it was presented to Her Majesty, she identified it as yours."
There was a faint note of amusement in his voice.
The Empress recognizing a Flower Maiden's jewelry…
That was not something that happened often.
"Oh…" Iris said, then asked, "Where is she now?"
"In the prison," Nolan replied.
Iris glanced at Zarah.
"May I have some time to process what you've told me?" Zarah asked, her gaze shifting from Nolan to Marceline.
Marceline smiled. "Of course. Besides, Lord Nolan and I have quite a bit to catch up on."
She looped her arm through Nolan's and turned to leave, but Nolan paused, glancing back at the two girls.
"Lady Zarah, Her Majesty asked me to remind you — she still expects your visit tonight."
Before Zarah could respond, the two nobles walked away.
Zarah huffed.
Ines was calling her again? For a third night?
Even after she had already sent a letter refusing?
She sighed, glancing at Iris.
"I'll speak to Her Majesty. Iree… you think the same as I do, don't you? Celine couldn't have done this."
Iris hummed as she walked beside her. "What if she actually did?" she asked.
Zarah raised a brow. "Could she? Wouldn't she be more worried about looking inferior to us if she did something like this?" she said, making a face as she imitated Celine.
Iris laughed. "Yeah, exactly. Celine wouldn't."
She paused, then looked at Zarah again, her expression softening.
"Come on. Let me get the makeup kit — we need to cover your scars."
Zarah nodded.
No matter how tired she was — or how irritating Celine could be — she was innocent in this.
And Zarah wouldn't let her be punished for something she hadn't done.
As Nolan and Marceline walked away, Marceline glanced at him.
"They don't think Lady Celine did it."
Nolan raised a brow. "Are you suggesting my investigation is flawed?"
Marceline rolled her eyes. "That's not what I said. I only meant they don't believe it."
"That implies they doubt my competence as Captain of the Imperial Guards," Nolan replied coolly. "And I don't think they would."
"Oh, please," Marceline sighed. "That's not what I meant. Just — forget it."
Nolan clicked his tongue and pulled his arm free.
"Take your hand off me before the palace servants report to the Empress Dowager that we were strolling hand in hand and start rumors about us having an affair."
He made a face of clear distaste.
Marceline stopped short. "Excuse you? Is that how you speak to your childhood friend?"
She snapped her fan open and lightly smacked his shoulder.
"What's so wrong with me, hmm? Don't make that face. Plenty of nobles would kill to have their name linked with mine."
She smirked.
"You just don't get it because you're aroace."
Nolan only rolled his eyes as they continued walking.