PSD Chapter 7

With her disheveled blonde hair, Milena got up and roughly tidied it using the comb Ashdel handed her.

There was no one to impress, so there was no point in dressing up. She simply changed her clothes and stepped outside with a bare face.

Following behind her were a knight with shaggy ash-gray hair and Ashdel.

“Ash, isn’t it time for your lessons?”

“It’s fine. I skipped all of them today.”

“On your own accord?”

“Don’t worry, Aunt. I got permission from my father.”

Well then. She merely shrugged, not giving it much thought. She failed to consider the fact that Ashdel and Calion barely had proper conversations.

Even though the servants didn’t treat Ashdel as the grand duke’s heir due to Calion’s neglect, the education he received as a grand duke’s son was brutal.

It was a rigorous curriculum, supposedly instilling the essential virtues required for a future grand duke. Because it was mandated by Calion, Milena had no authority to adjust the child’s schedule.

That wasn’t her main concern right now, anyway. Missing a day or two of lessons wouldn’t ruin him.

The real problem was herself.

With her impending marriage to her brother-in-law, she had no energy to worry about her nephew’s education.

What occupied her mind now was figuring out how to escape from this place.

“Welcome, my lady. These are the seamstress and tailor from Madame Grace’s salon.”

The parlor, with its doors wide open, was bustling with people moving busily. At a glance, it was filled with luxurious dresses and rolls of fine fabric.

Dresses. Dresses…

When was the last time she had a dress made for herself?

Milena had never been allowed to spend the grand duchy’s budget freely. She had no choice but to wear the dresses Calion begrudgingly tossed her way. As a result, her dressing room was filled with dresses more suited for Larriete.

Even when she did have the freedom to choose, she had only ever bought dresses to please Calion, picking similar styles to the ones he liked.

Fine. Back then, she had been utterly obsessed with him.

But now?

“Steward.”

At her call, the waiting steward approached and bowed his head. Though his personal feelings toward her were unfavorable, his demeanor as a steward remained professional.

“What is this?”

“What do you mean, my lady?”

“What is this in front of my eyes right now?”

“It is your wedding dress, my lady.”

The steward’s response was delivered steadily, as if nothing was amiss.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Milena’s lips.

“You don’t seriously think I asked because I didn’t know that, do you? The esteemed steward of the grand duchy, serving His Grace’s closest circle?”

“…….”

The atmosphere in the parlor instantly froze.

Milena, who used to scream when things didn’t go her way, now spoke in a lowered tone, amplifying her intimidating presence.

Her green eyes gleamed with fury.

The pristine white wedding dress before her was luxurious and exquisite.

But it had been made for someone else.

“I’ll ask again.”

She spoke as if chewing on her words.

“Why is Larriete’s dress here?”

She could still vividly recall the grand wedding of Larriete and Calion, an event rivaling the imperial family’s.

Especially the dress Larriete had worn—it was unforgettable.

It had been a masterpiece, crafted by the most renowned tailors from across the continent.

And now, they had the audacity to present her with the grand duchess’s dress as if she should wear it?

How was she supposed to interpret this?

Sensing the barely restrained anger simmering in the air, the steward bowed his head first.

Milena let out a dry laugh.

“Did His Grace Calion Luxen order this?”

The steward, caught off guard by the uncharacteristically composed Milena, struggled to hide his discomfort.

Milena, who was overall taller and more curvaceous than Larriete, wouldn’t even fit into the dress properly.

Ah.

So that was why they brought along the seamstress—to alter it.

Fine-quality fabrics were laid out, seemingly prepared to be added as necessary.

“…Ridiculous.”

My situation is.

Milena muttered to herself.

She had spent her entire life being compared to Larriete.

She had once believed that things might improve as she got older.

But now, she was nothing more than a replacement for her sister.

No, even calling herself a “replacement” was laughable.

Milena was just Larriete’s younger sister.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Living in her sister’s shadow had always left her feeling suffocated.

She wasn’t going to tolerate it any longer.

Why should she endure this humiliation and disgrace?

‘I’m a villainess.’

A woman who shamelessly coveted her sister’s man.

A woman deemed violent and selfish beyond redemption.

The world had already condemned her as such.

Fine. If that’s what they wanted, she would play the part.

At least until she could escape from this place.

“Sir.”

The knight who had been silently observing the situation took a step forward at her call.

“Lend me your sword.”

Shhhk—

The knight unsheathed his blade.

The faces of the onlookers paled as they realized what she intended.

“Kyaaa!”

“S-Someone stop her!”

“That dress is priceless! No, don’t—!”

Shrieks rang through the parlor.

Milena slashed at the dress.

But the weight of the well-forged sword was heavier than she had anticipated, and she couldn’t cut through the fabric properly.

‘Damn it. I can’t even do this right.’

Frustrated by her own lack of strength, she bit her lower lip.

Just as her grip on the sword faltered—

“Shall I help you?”

A voice, sickeningly sweet, drifted over her shoulder.

“…….”

The knight behind her gently guided her hands and back.

“Sir?”

“Just say the word. Shall I shred it to pieces? Or slice it into fine fragments?”

Aren’t those the same thing?

More importantly—why was this knight standing so close all of a sudden?

She hadn’t even been properly introduced to him yet.

“Sir.”

“Yes?”

“I’d appreciate it if you stepped back.”

“Ah, my apologies.”

Fortunately, he listened.

For a moment, she had assumed he was another person who underestimated her.

As she sighed in relief, a sharp voice interrupted from below.

“Hubert, tear it to shreds.”

At Ashdel’s command, the knight nodded.

“As you wish.”

“Young master!”

The steward, horrified, cried out.

He had never once raised his voice before, always maintaining his dignified demeanor. Now, his face had turned deathly pale.

But the knight with ash-gray hair didn’t hesitate.

He took the sword from Milena’s hands and mercilessly shredded the dress.

It was too fast for ordinary eyes to follow.

In just a few strikes, a dress worth an astronomical amount was reduced to nothing but scraps.

The white fabric fluttered in the air like scattered petals.

Everyone in the room was too stunned to speak.

Even Milena could only watch in a daze.

“Aunt.”

A small hand tugged at her fingers.

Regaining her composure at the warmth, she looked down at Ashdel.

“You still have something to say to the steward, don’t you? Say it quickly, and let’s leave.”

Ashdel spoke as if he had expected her to destroy the dress.

Had he learned to predict her actions simply by spending so much time together?

“Alright. Let’s do that.”

Milena nodded, schooling her expression.

The steward, still frozen in shock, flinched as she approached.

She smiled coldly.

“Tell His Grace the Grand Duke this—”

“I have no intention of marrying my brother-in-law.”

Her lips curled in derision.

“And if he dares to invoke the marriage vow’s curse? Let him try.”