To Underestimate is to Be Devoured
“……”
After a brief yet intense stare-off, Blan smiled faintly. She’s not to be trifled with. Pausing mid-measure with the tape, Blan rose from her seat and gave a respectful bow.
“If my words or actions offended you, I apologize.”
“Are you done?”
Milena didn’t wait for her response.
“The Imperial Palace,”
She spoke flatly, her tone even as she looked at the bowed Blan.
“I hear Her Highness the Princess has taken my husband as her lover?”
If she was going to step into high society as his wife, this was something she had to accept.
To underestimate is to be devoured.
That was how the noble ecosystem worked. She had considered whether enduring this tedious exchange was necessary—but after last night, she decided it was worth it.
She hadn’t lived her years in vain—she understood the situation quickly.
“Oh my, so you already knew? To be precise, Her Highness is desperate to have Lord Lexion as her lover!”
An exaggerated tone. Milena could tell Blan was putting on an act.
“A person who should be moving her hands more than her lips shouldn’t be saying such things.”
Shrrk— Milena drew the curtains aside and glanced back.
“No matter how renowned you may be as a tailor, I have no reason to order a dress from you specifically.”
Blan’s eyes widened slightly, seemingly caught off guard. She hesitated, then responded belatedly.
“Pardon?”
“This place is said to be one of the top three in the capital, right? Then I’d rather give the other two a chance. It’s not like this is the only store.”
What was she saying?
Failing to tailor the dress for the woman who was about to become the talk of the social scene would put a dent in her reputation.
Plenty had already seen Milena arrive here. Among them were nobles she’d cultivated as clients—witnesses, in effect. If Milena walked out now, it would be an open declaration of Blan’s failure.
“Wait, madam—!”
Milena slapped Blan’s hand away with a sharp clap. Her dark green eyes turned cold.
“You’re laying hands on your friend’s wife? I’d prefer you show some manners. What, were you hoping to spark my jealousy and watch me go into hysterics? Are you some kind of pervert who enjoys turning people into fools for observation? Whatever bond you think you have with my husband, kindly speak to him about it.”
“A-ah, I truly apologize—”
“I don’t want your apology right now. If you’re truly sorry, then bring a full collection of formal and casual wear suitable for a child to the ducal estate. I’ll decide then whether your apology is worth accepting.”
Before Blan could find the words to respond—
“Let’s go. Ash, Jenny.”
“Mm.”
“Yup! Little Madam.”
Ashdel scoffed as he passed Blan, casting a sideways glare. Jenny followed, brows knitted with pity.
Left alone, Blan let out a hollow laugh. Then, looking up at the ceiling, she muttered with a wry smile:
“Lexion, your wife is a masterpiece.”
Blan burst into laughter at the sheer boldness of Milena’s words—fiery and unshakable, not the kind nobles of the capital would ever dare say. But Blan’s laughter was a sign of approval.
[Lexion, your wife is a masterpiece.]
Seated in a carriage just past the Imperial Palace gate, Lexion frowned slightly at the voice flowing from the dark orb beside him.
“I told you to keep it moderate.”
[Where did you find a woman like that, huh? Think I could get someone like her if I moved to the North?]
“You’re not ‘finding’ anyone. Speak properly. I was the one chosen. My wife proposed first, remember?”
[You lucky bastard.]
“So what now? Seems like you’re properly out of favor. The Crown Prince’s birthday banquet is in a month.”
[Oh, don’t worry. If I make a nice outfit for the young lord, I’m sure she’ll cool off. Might even do a matching couple look while I’m at it. She seemed very sharp. I think she knew I was deliberately provoking her.]
“Make one for me too. Match the design and color with hers. Choose the accessories yourself.”
[Seriously, no one works me like you do. What’ll the gossip rags say, I wonder…]
Madame B’s Gossip Papers—a highly popular publication Blan created under her mother’s name. There was no better tool for shaping public opinion.
“Word will spread through today’s noble guests, but make sure they all hear that I’m trying my best to earn my wife’s favor. That I can’t live without her.”
Lexion Silbert: A picture of stability and responsibility.
A man devoted to one woman—certainly not a bad image.
When he held Milena, the world felt peaceful. Strangely enough, since her white magic had mixed with his energy, his control over his own magic had improved remarkably.
[Oh~ so you’re shedding your playboy image now? From rake to devoted husband? That’s a huge gap.]
“People believe what they see. And what we’re planning to do next fits the narrative.”
[That’s true. We do need to polish up the Crown Prince’s image.]
From tyrant to virtuous monarch. The transformation had to start now. A Crown Prince becoming a loving husband was just the prelude. And what better way to sell that story than to surround him with loyal, upright followers? Before the new era dawned, their images needed to be retouched.
[I’ll be heading to the estate soon, just so you know. Gerard said he’s already a fan of Madam. Honestly, I might fall for her too. Snrk.]
“Hah. Try not to overdo it.”
[By the way, sweetheart. Did you seriously give your wife that ugly wooden ring? From my aesthetic sense, it’s a total flop. Where’s your taste?]
“That ring—”
He was about to explain that it only looked plain, that it was actually priceless and irreplaceable—
Tap, tap—
“Young Master, we’ve arrived.”
“Alright.”
As the carriage door opened, the floating black orb scattered into thin air.
Lexion stepped down in a neatly arranged uniform, a far cry from the notorious rake everyone thought he was.
The Imperial Palace was filled with watching eyes and listening ears. It wasn’t yet time to shed his mask—so he relaxed his posture and smiled as he turned to the attendant nearby.
“Where is His Highness?”
“He’s in the annex.”
“Oh dear, calling me here and still enjoying himself?”
The annex of the First Imperial Palace—rumored to be where the Crown Prince discreetly indulged in his hidden desires. Women’s moans never ceased there, and even maids and attendants blushed while working.
Without hesitation, Lexion headed toward that den of debauchery.
“His Highness mentioned it was a shame you didn’t join him, Young Master.”
Lexion stifled a laugh at the attendant’s words.
“Still indulging with three or four at a time? I’ve never understood the appeal of such tangled messes.”
The attendant merely nodded, face red.
“Well, too bad. I can’t join him anymore.”
Every servant and guard nearby perked their ears at his words.
“You know I’ve taken a wife, yes?”
“I heard you married in the North, sir. Though some claim it’s just a rumor.”
“Rumors have roots in truth. All my past wandering was just to find my wife. Once you see her, you’ll understand immediately.”
Oh. The attendant’s eyes gleamed.
The man who once had the entire capital’s women at his feet now claimed to have settled down? It seemed impossible, but—if it were true, maybe even the Crown Prince could change when he found the right person. It gave a glimmer of hope.
“Congratulations, Young Master.”
Lexion said nothing more as he arrived before a tightly closed door. The attendant moved to announce him, but Lexion waved everyone back.
“No one should see what’s inside, right?”
They all knew. The Crown Prince, for all his pleasures, was also known to kill without hesitation.
Out of consideration, they withdrew, swallowing dryly.
Lexion’s smiling expression fell once the hallway was empty. He knocked on the door, his voice cool despite the warmth it had held earlier.
“Your Highness. Lexion Silbert.”
“Oh, come in.”
The moment the door opened, a sweet, cloying scent wafted out. Lexion wrinkled his nose but quickly smoothed his expression. Placing a hand over his heart, he bowed low.
“To the mighty little sun…”
“Enough.”
He had expected to find the Crown Prince amidst a tangle of women—but instead, the man sat disheveled and half-clothed, lounging among heaps of documents and classified files.
Though his posture was lazy, his golden eyes gleamed like a predator’s as they locked onto Lexion.
“You came quickly. My informant was just—”
“I apologize.”
“You don’t look sorry at all.”
The Crown Prince tilted his head at the overly formal Lexion. The candlelight danced in time with his movements, casting flickering shadows across the dark room.
“Sit. We have much to catch up on, don’t we?”
