Helia was comfortably settled in the velvet armchair of the boutique, savoring a cup of delicately scented tea, while her new acquaintances indulged in their favorite activity. The privatized boutique was a spacious and bright area, with immaculate walls adorned with golden mirrors, where lace and silk dresses were displayed on elegant racks. The fabrics shimmered under the soft light, creating an atmosphere that was both refined and intimate. Celia, in full excitement, was slipping into her tenth dress, a dazzling piece of fabric and color.
A few steps away, Rosalind was conversing with the saleswoman, passionately describing the models she had in mind, waiting to find out if they could be brought to her. Sera, meanwhile, was in the midst of a fitting, being measured for adjustments. Until now, Helia had found the moment pleasant, chatting with each of them, offering well-thought-out advice when asked or sincere compliments with every new dress that came out of the fitting room.
Although this kind of shopping trip was a true change of pace for Helia, she was adapting quite well. She had never really been accustomed to such worldly distractions. Usually, tailors came to her home, bringing pre-made, custom pieces selected from carefully chosen sketches in advance. She recalled the time when she would always call Elysia for help with her choices, confident in her judgment. Elysia, the true "queen of trends," had always advised her to choose simple, understated models, arguing that they showcased her subtle beauty. That had been her only experience with clothing shopping.
However, this time, the situation felt different. The abundance of choices, the variety of styles, and the palpable excitement around her fascinated her. The other ladies seemed to take great pleasure in the activity, and they had repeatedly suggested she join them in trying on dresses. But Helia, already having a well-stocked wardrobe, did not think it necessary to indulge. Furthermore, facing these tall and flawless women did little to ease her own insecurities. Although she had lost weight recently due to the events of the past few months, it had not been enough to make her forget that she was shorter and rounder than most of her peers, which troubled her deeply.
It was then that a saleswoman entered with a radiant smile, wearing a deep amethyst purple dress, adorned with delicate silver threads, which seemed to shimmer under the lights of the shop. She approached Celia with evident eagerness. "Oh! You found it! It's stunning!" she exclaimed. Sera and Celia rushed toward her, running their fingers over the fabric. They both agreed it was a true marvel.
Unperturbed, Helia stood up, eager not to be left out. She moved toward the group, her eyes falling on the dress. The color, both captivating and elegant, as well as the intricate embroidery adorning the hem, left little room for indifference. She couldn't help but comment, "I'm sure it will look magnificent on you, Celia."
Celia looked at her, almost incredulously. "On me? You're joking! These colors don't suit my complexion at all," she replied with a smile.
Sera, who had been gazing at the dress, turned her gaze toward Helia and, with a sly smile, added, "Helia, this dress was requested for you. The colors and the style will suit you beautifully. You must try it on."
Helia, caught off guard, attempted to politely decline, though the pressure of the insistent gazes was palpable. "Oh, that's kind, but I don't think it would suit me. It's not really my usual style. And besides, I already have enough dresses..."
Rosalind, who had been observing silently until then, intervened in a sharp tone, with a slight roll of her eyes: "So what? You're the daughter of a marquis, aren't you? You could afford this dress a thousand times over without a second thought! It's not about need, but pleasure."
Celia, with a mischievous smile, added, "And you'll never know if it suits you unless you try it on!"
Under the determined stares of her friends, Helia finally gave in and went to the fitting room to try on the dress, though she had no desire to do so.
The shop assistant helped her into the dress, and once it was in place, Helia didn't even dare glance at the mirror. She felt like a stranger in this outfit, the fabric too tight, too revealing. The dress, undeniably beautiful, seemed only to accentuate her insecurities. The colors were stunning and perfectly matched her eyes and complexion, but the square neckline, too low for her, seemed to expose her chest even more. The bottom of the dress, hugging her hips, highlighted parts of her body she wasn't fond of. The long, flared sleeves, slightly sheer, made her feel almost naked, despite the simplicity of the cut.
She didn't have the courage to leave the fitting room. She intended to ask the saleswoman to help her take it off immediately. But before she could say a word, the saleswoman had already opened the curtain, coming back toward the three other ladies.
They all stood in stunned silence before her silhouette. Sera was the first to react. "Helia... You look absolutely sublime!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide.
Celia, clearly moved, added, "What a magnificent figure!"
Even Rosalind, usually more reserved, couldn't help but comment, "Is this what you've been hiding under your modest dresses all this time? Wow."
Helia, completely destabilized, turned to them and replied, without restraint, "Excuse me? I feel like a turkey stuffed into a sack... It's not..."
Sera suddenly stood up, a look of complete disbelief on her face. "You must be joking, right? Your figure is breathtaking!"
Celia, still in shock, replied with a note of firmness, "Do you realize how many women would dream of having assets like yours?"
Assets? Helia, lost, wondered how anyone could consider her body an asset. She recalled all those times when, under Elysia's advice, she had carefully avoided fitted dresses, fearing discomfort and ridicule. But now, hearing the comments from the ladies, she felt as if she were in a bad joke.
Sera, seeing her disheartened expression, approached her. Gently, she took her shoulders and forced her to look at herself in the mirror. "Helia, do you really not like this dress? Or is it what you've always been told to believe that's stopping you from seeing it in a new light?"
These words struck Helia like a lightning bolt. At no point had she considered that this dress could look good on her. Why? Because Elysia had always made her believe otherwise. If Elysia had manipulated her throughout her life, why would she have been sincere about this?
After a moment of deep reflection, Helia raised her head, a new spark in her eyes. While her perception of the dress hadn't changed, she felt that her view of herself was becoming clearer, less clouded. She understood that it would take time to detach herself from the image Elysia had imposed on her. Yet, one certainty emerged: she would manage. Slowly but surely, she would rid herself of the veil that had clouded her self-image for so many years. After all, she had blindly believed in her friend's vision, so it would not be difficult to convince herself to adopt a new perception, one that, for once, would be to her advantage.
"Very well, I'll take it," Helia declared hesitantly. Behind her, Celia couldn't contain her joy, and a proud smile lit up Sera's face. It was incredible how a simple sentence from her had completely changed her perspective.
Helia did not try on any more dresses that day. The dress was set aside to be delivered directly to her home, as was customary among noble families. The choice of this single outfit marked an important step for her, and she preferred not to rush things. Celia and Sera, respecting this decision, did not insist further.
After the rest of the afternoon spent commenting on the fittings and exchanging knowing laughs, Helia, Celia, Rosalind, and Sera decided to extend their day with a dinner in a charming restaurant tucked away in a picturesque alley of the city.
The establishment, known for its refined dishes and warm ambiance, bathed in a soft golden light, with the lively conversations of the other patrons adding a cheerful note to the decor. Around the table, discussions flowed freely, swinging between light-hearted anecdotes and confidences. Helia, more relaxed than usual, found herself laughing wholeheartedly. For the first time in a long while, she was enjoying a genuinely pleasant moment, without any ulterior motive or apprehension.
When the dishes were served, a greedy silence settled around the table. The four young women were seated in a secluded corner of the restaurant, beneath a glass ceiling adorned with hanging ivy. Helia, seated near the window, absentmindedly observed the cobbled street, bathed in the glow of lanterns, as she nibbled on her fish fillet with vegetables.
The conversation, which had been light and punctuated by laughter, soon turned to more worldly matters.
Celia set her wine glass down with a mysterious smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Have you heard the news? This summer's social season will begin with an imperial ball."
Rosalind raised an eyebrow while taking a sip of red wine. "As every year, isn't it? Nothing too surprising."
"And what if I told you," Celia continued with a mischievous glint in her voice, "that this ball will also serve to select Prince Arthur's future bride?"
Helia, who had been drinking a sip of water, almost choked at these words, hurriedly placing her glass back on the table. She hadn't expected to hear that name in such a conversation. The first image that came to her mind was from the day before in the laboratory: the prince holding her at the waist, his face so close to hers. She couldn't help but feel her cheeks flush at the memory.
Certainly, Prince Arthur was twenty-five, and it was natural for rumors of an imperial marriage to begin circulating. Yet, what she knew of him made it difficult to imagine him with a wife. He was cold, serious, and so absorbed in his responsibilities that he seemed impervious to any idea of romance.
"Where did you hear such a rumor?" asked Sera, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, as she speared a piece of her dish with her fork.
Celia responded with a triumphant air: "One of the palace servants is my chambermaid's cousin."
Sera widened her eyes. "That sounds intriguing. Just imagine all those ladies competing in elegance and cunning to win the heart of the heir to the throne!"
Rosalind, who had been observing the conversation with apparent calm, gave a wry smile. "Don't expect too much spectacle, you might be disappointed."
Sera frowned slightly. "And why would that be?"
Celia giggled before answering, leaning slightly against the back of her chair: "Don't you know the prince's reputation? He's known to be a heartless tyrant, lacking any gallantry toward ladies."
Rosalind nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. "At the same time, given the absurd schemes he's had to face, one could almost understand his mistrust."
Celia burst into hearty laughter. "Oh, do you remember Lady Rena? She faked a fall hoping he'd catch her, but she ended up sprawled on the ground!"
Amused, Rosalind added, "And what about that social hunt where several ladies tried to sneak into his tent in the middle of the night?"
"They ended up arguing outside, only to find out the tent was empty!" Celia finished, laughing even louder, visibly euphoric, the effect of the wine taking hold.
Helia, for her part, remained perplexed, almost shocked to hear such stories. Of course, she knew Prince Arthur was a handsome man, but she found it hard to imagine that women would dare try such things in front of the heir to the throne, this cold and serious man.
Sera, though smiling, answered more calmly: "That mustn't be easy. To be constantly targeted by attempts at seduction."
Rosalind shrugged, a smirk on her lips. "It's the price to pay when you're both the most handsome man in the kingdom and the future sovereign."
Celia then turned toward Helia, who had been strangely quiet throughout the conversation. Her fingers were absentmindedly playing with the edge of her napkin, and her gaze was averted from the table.
"But I just realized, Lady Helia," Celia said, her eyes lighting up with a new idea, "you had the chance to spend almost an entire week with the prince during the expedition to the borders!"
Sera, suddenly intrigued, leaned slightly toward Helia. "Is that true? What was he like? As cold and cruel as the rumors say?"
Helia felt a wave of unease wash over her under the ladies' persistent gazes. She straightened up slightly, searching for her words. "Well… I didn't exactly spend an entire week with him. I only saw him rarely, from a distance, because he was very busy. And during the journey there, in the carriage."
Celia widened her eyes, stunned. "The carriage? You shared a carriage with the heir to the throne?"
Helia felt her cheeks flush once again at the memory of the discomfort in the carriage. She probably should have left that detail out. "Well, yes, on the way there. It wasn't anything extraordinary; the roads to the East are winding, and moving two carriages would have slowed down the convoy." She replied in a shy voice.
Sera, captivated, pressed on: "And then? What was he like?"
Helia felt a bit awkward answering these questions. She had no special relationship with the prince, but she would feel ashamed to share the few details she knew about him. Especially since their brief interactions had only concerned her research on the origin of the venom, a confidential matter.
"Silent... He didn't speak a word during the ten-hour journey. And as I said, I only saw him rarely."
Fortunately, the ladies, though visibly disappointed, finally accepted her answer. She hoped to close the discussion, but she could sense the palpable disappointment around the table.
Rosalind, with her usual pragmatism, finally spoke up: "Clearly, Lady Helia has nothing juicy to tell you, ladies. Let's change the subject."
A barely perceptible sigh of relief escaped Helia, who took another sip of water to calm herself. Fortunately, the conversation quickly turned to lighter subjects, with the young women sharing worldly anecdotes and amusing gossip. The dinner resumed its normal course, punctuated by laughter and warm exchanges.
As the evening came to a close, the four young women rose from the table beneath the glass ceiling, their moods as bright as the lanterns that illuminated the cobbled street outside. They exchanged radiant smiles and promises to meet again soon, before parting ways in a swirl of cloaks and farewells.
Helia made her way back to her family home, her heart a little lighter than usual. The laughter and warmth of the evening had, if only for a moment, lifted the weight of the concerns she usually carried.