The mornings in the Vargarde Noble District always arrived exceptionally early.
The thin mist had yet to dissipate when the distant bell tower began to chime.
That sound passed through the layered eaves and landed upon the awakening buildings of this district.
The Sacred Ceremony was scheduled for the evening, but in reality, many people would head to the venue by noon.
Though most had not received invitations, for them, the mere chance to exchange a few words with the great figures—whom they normally had no hope of meeting—was enough.
From the break of dawn, the Vargarde Noble District was already filled with a bustling atmosphere.
Lavish carriages came and went, weaving a scene of endless traffic that had not appeared here for quite some time.
The Lufinias estate was, of course, no exception.
Although it had lost much of its former glory since the passing of the former Grand Duke, the name still carried some weight, and they could not afford to appear too shabby.
From early morning, the entire mansion was awakened by Elia.
The dutiful head maid instructed the other maids to deliver carefully coordinated outfits to each person who would be attending the Sacred Ceremony, and naturally, Loren was no exception.
At this moment, he stood in the center of his room, staring at the bed, upon which lay a meticulously crafted and intricately tailored formal suit—just one glance was enough to feel its weight.
Beside it, in the accessory box, glittered cufflinks, a tie pin, and the family crest, making his scalp tingle with unease.
Loren turned around and looked at the two young maids waiting by the door, giving a wry smile. “Um… is it really necessary to wear all this? I’ve gotten used to dressing casually, and I’m not really comfortable in something like this.”
He tugged at the comfortable clothes he wore, making a final attempt to resist.
“I think I’m fine like this. Anyway, Elia will be with Her Highness, and it’s not as if I absolutely have to—”
The two maids at the door, dressed in neat uniform skirts, exchanged glances, then bowed respectfully to Loren.
One of them, her eyes gentle, lifted her head and replied softly, “Lord Loren, I’m afraid that won’t do. Lady Elia personally selected this attire for you.”
The younger maid quickly added, “And… Lady Elia already guessed you might… um, be a bit uncooperative. She instructed us to deliver her message to you if you refused to change.”
“A message?” Loren raised an eyebrow, a sense of foreboding passing through his heart. “What did she say?”
The first maid cleared her throat and, imitating Elia’s calm and steady tone, spoke.
“Lady Elia said this: Rather than say it was I who chose it, it would be more accurate to say that Her Highness Chloe helped me decide on the style. Her Highness is looking forward to seeing Lord Loren wear it. So if Lord Loren is unwilling…”
Elia’s message ended just at the perfect moment.
Loren felt the corner of his eye twitch uncontrollably.
He glanced back at the ornate suit.
Silence spread through the room, broken only by the faint sound of carriages from outside and subtle noises from distant parts of the estate.
After a while, the youth sighed as though resigning himself to fate.
“…Fine, I understand. I’ll wear it.”
The two maids seemed to let out a quiet breath of relief, sweet smiles blossoming on their faces.
They quickly entered the room, their movements gentle yet efficient, and began to dress Loren with the careful touch one would use on a doll.
Loren cooperated, lifting his arms, turning, standing upright, as if he were a puppet on strings.
The entire process was quiet and swift; only the soft rustling of fabric and the occasional faint sound of metal clasps echoed in the room.
When all was done, the two maids stepped back, open admiration in their eyes.
“This suit really does suit you, Lord Loren.”
Meanwhile, Chloe was being dressed by Elia herself.
The young girl stood quietly before the mirror, letting Elia comb her loose silver hair and twist it into a delicate, intricate bun.
Under the head maid’s skilled hands, the girl in the mirror looked as radiant as a porcelain doll.
Chloe gazed at her own reflection. The gorgeous gown made her seem both unfamiliar and familiar; she reached out, fingertips gently brushing over the skirt, finally coming to rest on the family crest at her left chest.
At the estate’s grand entrance facing the street, Loren tugged lightly at his slightly tight collar, trying to breathe a bit easier.
He lifted his head and glanced once more toward the exit of the estate.
Dusk had settled, and the street lamps were already lit, casting a warm golden hue over the stone steps at the door.
Who would have thought that just leaving the house would take nearly an entire day?
No wonder the Sacred Ceremony was scheduled for the evening—nobles really went through quite the ordeal just to go out.
Perhaps it was the suit chosen by both master and maid that made Loren look tall and distinguished, for the maids and noble ladies waiting nearby for their own masters kept stealing glances his way.
Feeling a bit uneasy, Loren quickly looked away, pretending to study the patterns on the stone pavement.
“Tsk tsk tsk, looks like our young lord is quite popular—”
Loren didn’t even need to listen to know who that voice belonged to.
He turned his head and saw Yuna poking her head out from behind a carriage, a sly light flickering in her eyes under the lamps.
The luxurious, close-fitting mage’s robe she wore looked less like the formal attire of a mage and more like a meticulously designed evening dress, perfectly hugging her shapely figure.
Though it didn’t show much skin, the unique cut and fabric emphasized the blend of innocence and maturity she possessed, and with her lazy yet clever demeanor, there was an indescribable charm to her.
In Loren’s opinion, she was a fairy.
Of course, she would be a perfect fairy if she were mute.
“To be honest, you do clean up pretty well when you make an effort.”
Yuna lifted a finger and tipped her exquisite mage’s hat, winking at Loren.
“Thanks. If you don’t know what to say, you really don’t have to say anything,” Loren replied with a deadpan expression.
After a while, the front door of the estate was gently pushed open from within.
Elia stepped out first, her bearing both respectful and graceful. She bowed slightly, then gently supported Chloe’s wrist as the girl followed her out.
At the edge of the porch lights, the young girl’s figure gradually became clear.
The custom-made formal gown perfectly outlined her slender yet already charming figure.
Her moon-silver hair was swept into a bun at the back of her head, revealing a graceful, pale neck.
Her skin was white as snow, her features exquisitely drawn; only, in those jewel-like eyes, there seemed a touch more gentle sorrow than usual—enough to tug at one’s heartstrings.
White stockings wrapped her straight, slender legs, and as she walked lightly forward, a small stretch of skin between skirt and stockings appeared and vanished from sight.
Loren found himself stunned as he gazed at her, only coming back to his senses when Yuna poked him a few times.
The youth coughed to cover his embarrassment.
Chloe seemed to notice Loren’s momentary daze, the corner of her lips curving ever so slightly in a smile.
Elia guided her to the side of the carriage, habitually reaching out to help her in.
However, Chloe stopped her with a look.
“Loren.”
“Hm?” The youth looked up at her.
“Come and help me up.”
As she spoke, the girl stretched out her hand in his direction, her gloved fingertips drooping slightly.
Her posture was natural and reserved, as though this were only right and proper.