Dresses and hats. Even accessories like shoes, gloves and parasols.
By sunset, a sizable order list had been completed. Everything from one to ten was Bastian Klauswitz's choice. All Odette did was being dragged around, taking measurements, and standing by him quietly like a doll.
"Oh yes. I almost missed something important."
Stopping the two as they were getting up, Madame Sabine found a pen buried in a pile of silk and chiffon.
"Could Lady Odette give me your address? I'll contact you when the order is ready."
"Yes, ma'am."
Odette answered calmly and accepted the pen Madame Sabine gave her. The scratching sound of the nip moving on the paper permeated into the glow of the setting sun in the dressing room.
"This is the address of a relative who is in charge of my chaperone. Please direct all communications there."
Odette said, returning the address book with a request. Although Madame Sabine looked bewildered, she asked no further questions.
"Let's go."
Getting up first, Bastian held out his hand. Though her heart was in turmoil, Odette held his hand without a hint of hesitation.
The man did his job. Therefore, Odette also had to fulfill her given responsibilities. That was the rule of this business relationship. She did not want to be in debt, at least not on her part.
Making up her mind, Odette took hold of the arm that Bastian had given her and left the dressing room. The staff, who had packed ready-to-go items, quietly followed. The items were only one part of the order list, but that alone filled the trunk and passenger seat of the large car.
After loading all the luggage, the staff left a polite greeting. Pedestrians who had gathered to see the procession of luxurious gift boxes also began to hurry their way.
"I have a prior arrangement, so it will be difficult to have dinner together."
When the surroundings became quiet, Bastian opened his mouth.
Odette looked at him with a bewildered face. It was as if she had been turned down from a date without even being asked.
The words that she had no intention of having dinner with him at all even if he had no prior commitments filled her throat, but Odette did her best to control her emotions.
"Let's get back in this car. Hans will take you home."
"What about the captain?"
"I can walk. The meeting place is nearby, so it's faster that way."
Bastian glanced at a large building on the other side of the main street. Reinfeld Hotel. It was the same place where they had their not-so-good first meeting.
Before Odette could answer, the waiting driver opened the back seat door. It was an uncomfortable consideration, but there seemed to be no way to refuse it. The insistence on carrying that much luggage alone would be pointless anyway. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed.
"Thank you, Captain."
Odette bowed her head deeply, clasping her hands neatly together.
In just a few hours, the man had spent far more than the Dissen's living expenses in a year. Even if he said it was for his own appearance and dignity, in the end, things were given to Odette. It seemed like something she had to bow for, and therefore she did. She didn't even want to think about Bastian's feelings, which for some reason he didn't respond to.
It was not like that kind of feeling was required.
Once again straightening her posture, Odette ended the uncomfortable silence by hurrying getting into the car. Bastian moved just as the driver climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.
Startled by the knocking on the glass, he turned his gaze to see Bastian leaning in front of the car window.
"Make sure you drop all the luggage off at the Diessen's before you leave."
Bastian's voice came through the half-open car window.
"I don't think these will do any good in the eyes of the Duke. What do you think, young lady?"
Looking straight at the bewildered Odette, Bastian smiled as softly as the evening breeze.
"... Yes. If not, I was going to do exactly what the Captain said. Don't worry about that."
Odette reassured the man with an emotionless voice. She felt as embarrassed and miserable as if she were naked, but she could not deny the fact that Bastian's point was valid.
"I'm glad you're a good communicator. Then return safely, Lady Odette."
Bastian nodded his head in satisfaction and straightened his body again.
Taking a step back, Bastian indicated his departure with a light nod of the head. Odette, who was only looking down at her fingertips, raised her head as the car rounded a street corner.
On a weekend evening, the city was crowded with many people, carriages, and cars, which had recently begun to increase rapidly. Her house was nearby, but it seemed like it would take quite a while to get out of the main street intersection. It was right when the man said it would be faster to walk.
"It's the day of an opera performance, so the traffic is very congested. They say it's popular because famous singers appear on it."
Glancing at the front mirror, the driver spoke quietly.
"I'm fine. Don't worry."
With a faint smile, Odette turned her gaze toward the street through the car window. She spotted the man when the car that had been crawling along so gingerly reached the front of the illuminated Reinfeld Hotel. Bastian had arrived there before the car. A short time later, a black car, as luxurious as the one Odette was riding in, stopped in front of the hotel.
Bastian approached it without hesitation. And he escorted a lady out of the car with the same courteous gestures he had done to Odette.
It was not difficult for Odette to recognize the very refined and splendid red-haired lady.
Sandrine. Countess Lenart, the man's real lover.
***
"Sandrine seems to be getting a lot more impatient these days, but I want the two of them to come together in the most dignified and whole way."
Duke LaViere, who had been waiting for a long time, uttered blandly. It was a distinctly different voice from before, when they were discussing the joint venture's railway operations and stocks.
"Of course. I also think the same as the Duke."
Bastian readily agreed and reassured him. Duke LaViere, who had been unable to hide his nervousness throughout dinner, finally burst out laughing.
"I really like this about you. You never lose your cool-headed judgment in any situation. You have the kind of personality that can be a strong fence for the emotional Sandrine."
Relaxed, Duke LaViere began to express his concerns about his daughter. The concerns he couldn't finish at the dinner table where Sandrine, who had intervened without permission, was present.
Bastian listened in silence. He couldn't quite understand because of the Duke's strong accent but he didn't feel the need to ask.
LaViere had no intention of ever forgiving the homosexual man (Sandrine's ex husband) who ruined his daughter's life with the fraudulent marriage. Retaliation would be met with maximum alimony. Remarriage was only possible after that.
"Please understand the position of the family and wait."
In the end, that was the point, and Bastian largely agreed. It was an insignificant matter compared to the enormous benefit he would receive in return.
"Thank you for protecting my daughter's honor."
After the long talk, Duke LaViere sincerely expressed his gratitude.
Honor.
It was a term that didn't suit a woman who held her husband's male lover as a weakness, demanded a divorce, and was openly seducing the next man behind his back.
Sandrine, who was kicked out as soon as dinner was over, was probably lying in her lover's bed by now, gossiping about her father and her remarried partner (Bastian), who didn't know her heart.
The man Sandrine had been spending the nights with was a substitute singer at the opera house. Last season, an unknown painter. Before that, probably a dancer in a suburban theater. Generally, they were third-rate artists with nothing but mediocre talent and youth, and in that respect they were harmless.
Even if it was known to the public, it wouldn't be a big problem. For it was just a minor deviation with the tacit consent of the social world. Of course, Bastian's opinion was not different.
Sandrine was a clever woman who knew exactly what side lovers meant. She was different from the cheap sentimentality intoxicated and problematic section, and Bastian appreciated that. He was also well aware that her love for him was genuine and that it was in a realm that had nothing to do with the men warming her bed.
"I am deeply grateful to the Duke for understanding and respecting my friendship with your daughter."
With an appropriate gratitude, Bastian satisfied the nobleman of Pelia, who had a special love for his only daughter. The woman's father (Odette's father) suddenly came to mind the moment he turned around after seeing Duke LaViere off.
The memories of that day came back in the light of the street lamps that illuminated the city night.
The irredeemable father (Duke Dissen) who had no regard for his daughter (Odette). He was good at spouting nonsense, but he was the kind of person who would sell his daughter to the highest bidder.
If she had a proper father, would she have lived the same life as Sandrine?
Bastian walked the streets at night, making meaningless assumptions. Lady Odette lives like Sandrine.
Well. He couldn't possibly imagine.
The woman (Odette) seemed unlikely to have concocted a ruse and fought back even if she was cheated on. She would have just endured the unforgiveness. Just like she had been put up with and endured her trashy father.
She pretended to be aloof on such a subject.
She had the best reputation because she could do better than anyone else.
By the time his thoughts had gone that far, he was already at the corner of the road where he could see his house. It was then that he had an intuition that something was strange.
Police officers were roaming near his town house. There were too many of them to consider a normal patrol. Above all there were horses.
A fine stallion and saddle drew attention. It was not a privilege given to an ordinary cop.
It was not a privilege to be given to the police.
Imperial kingsguard.
Bastian found the answer only after the town house's door was opened.
After the ball at which the imperial princess went on a rampage, suspicious people often roamed around his house.
It was Admiral Demel who overheard that they were the undercover Imperial Guard. He said that the Emperor was keeping a close eye on Bastian, he should never get involved with the princess again.
It was quiet for a while, why now?
Bastian pressed the doorbell, biting back an unanswerable question.
The pale butler, Lovis, opened the door a few moments later.
"It's a big problem, Master!"
His hand gripping the doorknob was trembling terribly.
"Oh, the Princess… Her Highness, the Princess, is here now…"
Lovis didn't finish his sentence properly, but Bastian understood what he meant without further explanation.
"Bastian!"
A girl in a maid's uniform was seen running from behind the butler. To his surprise, it was Isabelle, the emperor's damn daughter.