Who can guess the outcome?
Did Father agree to the broken engagement?
I don't know.
One thing is certain: tonight I'm going to a party to meet my favorite character, Tristan. I'm going to comfort him there and give him support as the second male lead.
Although, Father completely opposed this decision to attend the party, thinking I was still sick, perhaps severely. Maybe the sudden cancellation of the engagement made him think so.
Well, his daughter, who used to behave like a villain and desperately wanted the Crown Prince, suddenly became a strange girl demanding the annulment of her engagement. That's bound to make Father think hard.
But I threw a tantrum, taking advantage of Dominic who was next to me to persuade Father. "Father, let Liliane go, I'll accompany her," Dominic pleaded innocently.
As you might guess, Father's answer was... bam! A blow landed on Dominic's head. "You idiot, letting your sick sister go to a party!"
Bam! Bam! Two more hits.
Poor Dominic transformed into my shield, his mouth arguing even more strongly against Father's words, his hand rubbing his increasingly sore head.
But thanks to the sacrifice of his cotton-candy head, I was finally allowed to go, supervised by Dominic.
It seems Father briefly considered using the Crown Prince to keep an eye on me. But hey, everyone already knew that cheating jerk's true character. So, Father didn't hold onto any hope for him anymore.
And so I found myself in the current situation: preparing to go to the party.
"Aarrgghhhh.... Maryyyy.... Ahhhh... my stomach!" I screamed as Mary laced the corset. It felt like I was being pitted against a giant who thought I was a stress ball toy. "I'm not a squishy that can be squeezed arbitrarily! There are organs in here that still want to survive!"
"Hold on, My Lady. Just a little more," Mary said in a flat voice, her sturdy leg braced against my back, pulling the corset strings tighter like she was drawing a bowstring.
"Aarrgghh Maryyyy. I'll kill youuuuu!" I blurted out, the shortness of breath reaching a level where I could see a tunnel of light.
Mary immediately froze. The other maids collectively backed up three steps, their bodies trembling violently like leaves in autumn. Some were even ready behind the door, prepared to make a run for it if necessary.
I stared at them in confusion. "Hehehe... I'm just kidding. I've repented, remember? I have become the goddess of goodness now. A goddess who... won't kill her own maid... deliberately..." I said quickly, wiggling my fingers to look harmless, even though my breathing sounded like a fish out of water.
"Please don't do that again, My Lady," Mary groaned, her face pale. "I was already considering switching professions to a gravedigger. At least the threats there are more predictable."
"AARRRGGGGG... I CAN SEE THE FUTURE!" I yelled as Mary yanked the final string. For a moment, I was sure I saw my deceased great-grandmother smiling sweetly from the corner of the room, waving a piece of corset fabric. But the fruit of this hellish corset torture finally paid off. My already small waist was now as thin as an 80-gram sheet of printer paper. I stood swaying, like a fawn that had just had a sip of wine, trying to make sure all my internal organs were still in their proper places and none had migrated to my chest cavity.
And then, my appearance... was stunningly beautiful. Too beautiful. And thoroughly antagonistic. The black gown was too sexy and captivating for a "supporter," which was my plan. This petite body was certainly curvaceous in the right places, but the femme fatale aura was too strong, I looked like a vampire who had just attended a dinner party (and I mean, literally eaten dinner).
"Mary, I don't like this dress," I complained. "Please change it to something cuter and more innocent. Something with the vibe of 'I will protect you, my goddess of love, Liliane!'" I fantasized, gesturing exaggeratedly, like a fairy practicing for a play.
Mary stared at me with a flat look that could melt ice cream instantly. "But My Lady, all the clothes in your closet... are too sexy," she said, opening the closet filled with lavish and revealing gowns. Some looked like they were made of only a few strips of fabric and a lot of prayers.
"There must be something else," I insisted, starting to panic. My eyes were then drawn to an old box in the corner of the closet covered by a pile of scarves. When I opened it, dust flew everywhere, and inside lay a pink dress, innocent, cute, and the exact color of my eyes.
"Mary, this is it!" I exclaimed, instantly picturing myself as a harmless sweet girl, maybe with a background of flowers and butterflies.
"Oh, yes. That was a gift from Young Master Dominic," Mary said, smirking. "You were so angry before, thinking his taste was terrible. You threw the box into the corner and swore you'd burn it."
I could imagine the original Liliane, face red with rage, tossing this box like a bomb. But thanks to Dominic's "mischief," I actually found my solution. I spun in front of the mirror. This dress successfully changed my look from a dangerous femme fatale to... at least an ordinary girl who didn't look like she was about to poison someone's drink, maybe just put too much sugar in it.
This is enough. Now, it's time to face the battlefield called the party.
My heart pounding (partially from the corset, partially from nerves), I walked down the grand staircase. My simple pink gown rustled softly with every step, contrasting with the surrounding marble and gold opulence.
Below, three handsome men, my immediate family, were waiting. They were like three different versions of deadly handsomeness.
First, my Father, Duke Valerian von Hohenberg. In his middle age, this man still looked incredibly sexy with his neatly tucked silver hair and sharp golden eyes. His posture was straight in his perfect suit, exuding an authority that made anyone feel small.
Standing beside him was Maximilian, my elder brother. He was a younger replica of Father, the same silver hair, the same cold golden eyes, and a cool expression that made him look like a sculpted god. The difference was, in his twenties, his handsomeness was sharper and more aloof.
Then there was Dominic, the youngest. He was a complete contrast, electric blue hair deliberately messy, golden eyes that always sparkled mischievously, and a playboy smile that easily made women fall in love. With his athletic build and relaxed way of leaning, he was the perfect bad boy.
As I reached the last step, Dominic looked up. His eyes widened for a moment, then a wide smile spread across his face.
"Well, well, well," he said, still leaning in his characteristic relaxed manner. "Look at this! The witch who usually roams around in robes of darkness and evil schemes has decided to disguise herself as a simple Lady who just picked flowers in the garden!"
Maximilian remained cool, only his eyebrow slightly raised.
My Father looked at me from top to bottom, his face staring intensely at Dominic, preparing to hit him again.
But after a moment, I could see a slight surprise in his usually cold eyes. His lips slightly pursed, as if he was trying hard not to smile.
"What is the meaning of this outfit, Liliane?" he asked, his voice attempting to be firm but sounding a bit flat.
"This is a gown that Dominic gifted me, Father," I answered in the sweetest voice possible, trying to appear as innocent as a lamb. "I thought it was perfect to show... my newly found humility."
Dominic choked back a laugh. "Humility? That's a good word! Or maybe you finally realized that black makes you look like a widow grieving the death of her own morality?"
BAM!
Without warning, Father's large hand landed on the back of Dominic's head.
"Don't speak about your sister like that," Father rebuked in a low voice full of authority.
"Ouch! Father, it was just a joke!" Dominic protested, rubbing his now surely more painful head.
Maximilian remained calm, merely shifting his weight slightly, looking flatly at Dominic's misfortune.
I shot a murderous glare at Dominic, which only made him laugh harder despite still clutching his sore head.
But strangely, behind all the banter, I could see a hint of warmth in Father's eyes.
Perhaps, just perhaps, this unusual new look of mine gave him a glimmer of hope that his daughter wasn't completely lost, or maybe he was just relieved I wasn't wearing a gown that could make our ancestors faint.
"Alright," Father finally said, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Take good care of your sister, Dominic. And you, Liliane..." he looked directly at me with a gaze that made me feel slightly guilty, "please... try not to cause a scandal. Or if your head feels dizzy, ask Dominic to accompany you home."
Maximilian nodded slowly, his golden eyes radiating silent approval. Meanwhile, Dominic was still busy rubbing his head, which probably had a new lump.
I nodded, my heart pounding faster than ever.
"Don't worry, Father, there won't be a scandal tonight," I said respectfully.
But, my plan later won't break Father's order, right?