Upon arriving in Thalendris, the first destination was our city mansion—a grand estate, though more modest than our family home back in the Grand Duchy, as was expected in the capital.
Mother, always direct, wasted no time. "Lancelot, take Evelyn and go shopping for dresses," she instructed. "I have work to attend to, so I won't be joining you."
Celia's face lit up with hope, but that quickly turned to indignation when Mother simply looked at her and shook her head, offering no explanation. Celia huffed, folding her arms with a look that could wilt flowers.
"What about Evelyn's identity?" I asked, a trace of concern slipping into my voice. "We can't exactly introduce her as Aurelia's daughter."
Mother's gaze softened slightly, yet her words remained firm. "Her only identity from this day forth is as the future Grand Duchess of Silvaria. Nothing more, nothing less. That's the purpose of this engagement. Now, go explore Thalendris together, and make sure she's properly dressed for her role. Don't concern yourself with the cost." She turned to Celia with a slight nod. "Celia, with me."
Evelyn gave a graceful bow. "Thank you, Your Grace."
Mother's face warmed, a rare smile breaking through her usual composed expression. "From now on, Evelyn, it's 'Mother.'"
Evelyn's face lit up, eyes wide with surprise as she stammered, "Yes, M–mother."
My mother's smile softened before she turned to leave, taking a reluctant Celia by the hand. Celia managed a half-hearted wave, looking back at us with a pout as she was led away.
I glanced at Evelyn, her expression still a mixture of awe and hesitation. As we stepped out into the bustling streets, I asked Lyra, "Which boutiques are worth visiting?"
She paused, considering, before nodding. "Vereille Boutique is the finest in Thalendris. Normally, it takes months to secure a reservation, but Her Grace already sent Lady Evelyn's measurements there."
"Then let's head there," I said, turning to Evelyn. But her face had gone slightly pale, her eyes clouded with unease.
I furrowed my brow, then relaxed, gently taking her hand in mine. "You alright?"
She glanced at me, visibly steadying herself, and managed a small nod. "Yes, it's just…your mother is so caring, so very different from my 'mother'."
Sensing her discomfort, I wove a subtle veil of mana around us, creating a private space within the carriage despite Lyra's presence nearby. "Evelyn, don't worry," I murmured, meeting her gaze. "No one here will look down on you. Not while I'm by your side."
A flicker of relief crossed her face, and I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Evelyn had been through more than most could fathom, and I knew better than anyone that she needed a steady foundation. She needed someone who understood her past but believed in her future. Someone who would support her without question, who could help her rebuild the confidence her mother's cruelty had chipped away.
I was more than willing to be that for her.
As we arrived at Vereille Boutique, the storefront gleamed with elegance, its grand glass windows showcasing exquisite gowns that seemed to float in the sunlight. Inside, chandeliers cast a warm glow over displays of finely crafted fabrics and delicate beadwork. The staff, upon noticing us, hurriedly arranged themselves, their postures respectful but eager as they recognized the Silvaria crest.
A woman, poised and polished, approached with a graceful bow. "Welcome, my lord and lady. It is an honor to have you at Vereille Boutique. How may we assist you?"
"We're here to look at some dresses," I replied, glancing over at Evelyn. She looked slightly overwhelmed but gave a polite nod, her gaze darting around the boutique in awe.
The attendant nodded and led us to a private fitting area, where racks of dresses in every shade and fabric awaited. Silks and velvets, brocades and lace—all carefully displayed to captivate. Evelyn's eyes sparkled as she wandered among them, gently running her fingers over the soft fabric, her expression a mixture of fascination and uncertainty.
The attendant began pulling a selection of gowns, each one as breathtaking as the last. Evelyn tried on dress after dress, emerging from the fitting room in delicate shades of emerald, midnight blue, silver, and ruby red. Each time she appeared, she'd look at me with a hesitant smile, as if seeking my approval.
I offered a reassuring nod every time. She looked beautiful in all of them, each dress somehow suiting her in a unique way, but she seemed no closer to a decision.
"Maybe the green one?" she mused, looking down at the fabric as if it held the answer. Then she hesitated, eyeing the silver gown on a nearby rack. "Or perhaps… this one? Or…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced at yet another dress, a soft lavender creation that shimmered in the light.
Evelyn chewed her lip, clearly torn, glancing between the dresses with a mix of frustration and delight. I could see the weight of the decision beginning to wear on her, her brows knitting as she tried to make up her mind.
I watched her, amused by the rare glimpse of indecision in her usually composed demeanor. After a moment, I turned to the attendant. "We'll take them all."
Evelyn's head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. "Lancelot, I don't need all of them. It's too much—"
I held up a hand, cutting off her protests. "Evelyn, you looked stunning in each of them, and I don't see why you should have to choose. Consider them a welcome gift, from me."
She hesitated, her expression softening as she looked at me, a touch of warmth and something unspoken flickering in her gaze. "Thank you, Lancelot," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
I offered her a smile. "It's nothing, really."
The attendant beamed, quickly gathering the dresses as Evelyn looked down, a small smile playing on her lips. It was a fleeting moment, but one that left a lasting warmth in the air between us.
"Lyra," I murmured, infusing my voice with just enough mana to keep it under Evelyn's radar, "let's find a dessert shop."
Lyra caught the hint, nodding with a conspiratorial smile. "Of course, my lord. I know just the place—a little hidden gem, tucked away from the bustling streets."
As we stepped out of the boutique, Evelyn admired the shopfronts, her gaze wandering with unguarded wonder. She'd grown more at ease since we arrived, and seeing her so absorbed in the sights made the idea of a small surprise feel perfectly timed.
We wound through the narrower streets of Thalendris, leaving behind the grandeur of the main avenues. Soon, we stopped before a modest storefront with a charming sign that read Le Pavillon Sucré. It was a place of warm light and gentle laughter, the scent of caramel and honey mingling in the air. I watched as Evelyn's eyes lit up, caught off guard by the cozy atmosphere.
Lyra held the door open, and we entered, greeted by the sight of cakes, pastries, and confections in every shape and color imaginable. The shopkeeper, a round-cheeked man with flour-dusted hands, looked up with a welcoming smile.
"Ah, young lovebirds, eh?" he chuckled, wiping his hands. "Welcome to Le Pavillon Sucré. What might I tempt you with today?"
Evelyn's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, but she was too entranced by the display of treats to protest. Her gaze flitted over the glass case, taking in the delicate tarts, cream-filled éclairs, and frosted cakes with wide eyes.
"What do you think, Evelyn?" I asked, my tone light. "Anything catch your fancy?"
She bit her lip, eyes twinkling. "It all looks incredible… maybe the lavender honey tart? Or the dark chocolate mousse? Oh, but that raspberry mille-feuille…"
I grinned and turned to the shopkeeper. "We'll have all three. And add a pot of your best tea."
Evelyn's gaze darted to mine, a soft laugh escaping her. "You're indulging me too much, Lancelot."
I shrugged. "Can't let you go hungry after all that dress shopping."
We settled into a corner table, the desserts arriving like small, edible works of art. Evelyn's face softened as she took her first bite of the honey tart, closing her eyes as the sweetness melted on her tongue.
"Perfect, isn't it?" I asked, my tone barely above a whisper.
She opened her eyes and nodded, a smile spreading across her lips. "It's more than perfect," she replied, the words tinged with something deeper, something unguarded.
As we shared the desserts, the air between us seemed lighter, every moment infused with an unspoken warmth. Evelyn looked happy, truly happy, and for a while, the weight of our pasts faded away, leaving only the laughter, the taste of sweetness, and the quiet promise of more moments like this.
At the same time, I noticed some eyes on us.
'Looks like everything went to plan like mother wanted it to.'