Chapter 90

When Agnes carefully looked through the catalogs Sharon had brought from three different boutiques, she found all of them fairly good.

One tried to follow the capital’s fashion trends as quickly as possible, another ignored them almost entirely and focused on creating a distinct northern style, and the last one seemed to balance both. Each had its own character and charm.

After some thought, Agnes decided to visit all three and divide her dress orders among them.

If she was going to live in the North for a long time, building good relationships with every boutique would be useful.

She scheduled her visits two days apart.

The first stop was the one that closely followed the capital’s fashion. As expected, even its interior design felt like something straight from a boutique in the capital.

“If Noah were here, he might have found this fun.”

Agnes smiled as she spoke to Lizzie, who was accompanying her instead of Noah for once.

“Hehe, but Young Master is still too young. I don’t think he’d notice any difference between dresses.”

“Maybe not, but other children would.”

Even if Noah didn’t understand, children who grew up in the capital had sharp eyes, quick to catch the smallest details of fashion.

No matter how hard a northern boutique tried to imitate the capital’s latest trends, there was always a delay. That was why Agnes had no intention of getting Noah’s formal suit made here.

Adults cared more about titles and reputation than trends, but children were honest. She didn’t want Noah to ever feel self-conscious because his clothes looked like a poor imitation of capital fashion.

He already had friends in the North, but there was no reason for him to return from the capital feeling small.

The boutique’s designer personally served tea and greeted her with a bright smile.

“Welcome, Duchess. It’s such an honor to have you visit our shop. You mentioned you don’t have any specific color or design preference. May I show you one of my signature designs first?”

The designer was well-dressed and spoke with a polished yet friendly tone.

Agnes quietly admired the dresses being presented while chatting with Lizzie.

Lizzie didn’t know much about high society trends or etiquette, but she had a good eye for colors that suited Agnes.

“My lady, softer colors look much better on you. You always pick such calm tones.”

“It suits my status to keep things calm, doesn’t it?”

“Soft can still be elegant. Isn’t that right, Designer?”

“Of course. You have a very perceptive maid, Duchess.”

For some reason, Lizzie and the designer got along very well.

Caught between their lively energy, Agnes tried on fabrics against her skin and looked at scarves and accessories. Before she knew it, she had picked out more than she originally planned.

When Agnes hesitated at the bill, Lizzie whispered firmly, “It’s still within budget.”

Agnes laughed at her determination, and Lizzie grinned back.

“Actually, the head maid gave me an order. She told me to make sure you spend the entire budget.”

Agnes finally understood why Lizzie had been unusually persistent today. Shaking her head in amusement, she placed an order for everything she had carefully chosen.

“We’ll deliver everything to the duchy directly, Madam.”

The designer sent her off with a beaming smile.

After leaving the boutique, Lizzie went around to call for the carriage parked behind the building.

While she was gone, Agnes’s escort for the day, Erion, stepped closer and spoke in a low voice.

“My lady, Lady Peridot is looking this way. She’s to your right, diagonally across the street.”

Agnes slowly lifted her head in the direction he mentioned.

Just as he said, Marcella was standing there. Accompanied by her maid and dressed properly for an outing, she didn’t look out of place.

Even if relations between the Vasteron and Peridot families were strained, no one could forbid a noblewoman from shopping in the northern market.

If their eyes had simply met by coincidence, Agnes would have ignored her.

But Marcella’s face was pale, as if she hadn’t slept for days, and her green eyes glimmered with desperation.

This wasn’t a coincidence. She had been keeping watch and came here on purpose the moment she learned that Agnes had gone out.

She must have received Dylan’s message warning her not to approach Noah. Now that Agnes was out without him, she was taking her chance.

The reason for such desperation was beyond Agnes’s understanding, and it made her uneasy.

“His Grace instructed that if Lady Peridot forces an approach, we are allowed to use force. What should we do?”

“…For now, ignore her. Let’s just leave.”

The sound of wheels echoed from behind the building as the carriage approached. Marcella wouldn’t be foolish enough to block a moving carriage. Agnes only had to get inside.

Yet as the carriage came into view, Marcella suddenly moved.

She grabbed her skirt and began to run toward them, all sense of dignity forgotten.

“My lady, please stand behind me.”

Erion stepped forward, placing himself between them, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

Even if Marcella was a noblewoman, if she tried to harm Agnes, Erion would not hesitate to draw his blade.

Agnes held her breath, watching the woman rush toward them.

The sound of the carriage wheels and horses’ hooves mixed with Marcella’s frantic footsteps and quickened breathing, building unbearable tension in the air.

Just as Erion was about to draw his sword, Marcella dropped to her knees with a heavy thud and looked up at Agnes with a desperate expression.

“Duchess of Vasteron.”

Both Erion and Agnes froze in disbelief.

Even the coachman stopped the carriage abruptly, startled by the sight.

The horse neighed loudly, the sound echoing through the silent street.

Agnes slowly stepped out from behind Erion, though she remained close enough for his protection to reach her.

She looked down at the woman kneeling on the ground.

For a noblewoman to kneel like this, not indoors but in the middle of a public street where commoners passed by, was unthinkable.

Agnes couldn’t comprehend what could drive her to such humiliation.

“What you’re doing right now, Lady Peridot, do you realize how disrespectful it is to me?”

Her voice was calm but carried the weight of reprimand.

If even Agnes found her behavior strange, how much more scandalous would it look to onlookers who knew nothing of the situation?

This public display would spread quickly, not just in the North but possibly all the way to the capital.

Still, Agnes didn’t help her up.

The damage was already done, and showing composure would serve her better than reacting in panic.

Marcella slowly lifted her head, her eyes trembling.

“I’m sorry. I acted without thinking. I was desperate.”

Hearing her trembling voice, Agnes spoke quietly to Erion.

“Erion, help her up.”

Erion frowned but obeyed, grasping Marcella’s arm and pulling her to her feet.

She winced and held onto his hand for balance. Her dress was wrinkled and dirt-stained from kneeling so suddenly.

Agnes exhaled deeply and spoke in a cold, measured tone.

“My husband, the Duke of Vasteron, has already warned you. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

“I know. That’s why I waited until you went out without the young master.”

Just as Agnes suspected. The realization gave her a dull headache.

“So, what is it that you want to say?”

Marcella’s lips quivered as she clasped her hands tightly together. Her pale face stiffened as she whispered words that sent a chill down Agnes’s spine.

“Please, let me see Lord Overhen. Just once. Please…”