# Chapter 49: 49
Payment for your meals.
Radis, a temporary guest of the Marquisate of Russell, had nothing to do, even though she was to receive a salary of one hundred million rupees a year. So he had no choice but to feel guilty.
He slowly took off his coat.
As if waiting for that moment, a delicate hand wrapped around her waist.
The dressmaker spoke.
—Then, I'm going to take the Miss's measurements.
—Do what you want. Aah...
Behind the screen, Radis could hear Yves Russel growling.
—'Aah'? I'm the one who should be sighing here. I'm a very busy person, but do I have to be here just to tell you to get measured for your clothes?
In response to their complaints, Radis looked at the screen with a worried expression.
It had been a while since she had met him, so the overwhelming first impression and vicious rumors about him had already been forgotten.
—Marquis, he is a bore...
With a somber voice, Radis responded.
—If you're so busy, please don't come here.
—What if I don't come? You will escape! And when someone tries to stop you, you disappear!
—...because there is nothing to do.
I didn't know if he was really angry or not, but Yves Russell responded in a sarcastic tone.
—Don't you have anything to do? I don't even think that twenty-four hours are enough for your skin care, to do your hair, your nails.
Those ‘things to do’ were only fun at first.
She got a facial with honey mixed with a little salt, was bathed in goat's milk, and had plenty of clay mixed with herbs applied to her hair to make it grow quickly. They even put fake nails on it.
But that was fun back then—just at first.
She couldn't wash her face with anything except milk, and she was trapped inside the house so her skin wouldn't get too toasty.
Her hair was like any other, it would only grow at its own pace, but since she had to sit there with mud on her head to make it 'grow faster', she couldn't stand how unbearably itchy it was.
And the nails. Those were the worst.
Every time she used those long fake nails, she couldn't hold anything except thin utensils.
—I hate them. Do I really need them?
—Oli...!
Suddenly aware of his surroundings, Yves Russel lowered the volume of his voice to a whisper.
—...don't you want to see Prince Olivier?
Tempered by the mention of Olivier's name, Radis fell silent and lowered her head.
Finally overcoming Radis' stubbornness, Yves Russell patted him on the shoulders with a satisfied expression.
—It's okay, Radis. I have a plan, so just trust and follow my instructions. First, today we are going to measure your dress. OK?
-...OK.
Inside, Radis only thought 'I'm dead' as she surrendered to the dressmaker's hands, with her arms outstretched.
—Milady, you don't have to worry!
Coming from the most famous boutique in the south, called 〈Saffron〉, a dressmaker named Celia personally went to the mansion for the fitting. He stretched out the tape measure and spoke.
—Celia will take the lady's measurements perfectly!
—It's okay if it's not perfect...
—No, no! It will be the basis of the production of the dress, so the Miss's body must be measured perfectly to understand her strengths and weaknesses! I will not allow any mistakes, not even a hair of difference!
Celia swung the tape measure like a whip and moved around Radis with it, on her neck, the width of her shoulders, the length of her forearms, bust, waist, hips, legs and feet.
Changing her posture as Celia instructed, Radis thought that it would be more efficient if they made her float or something.
After a while, the measurements were finally finished and Celia took out a catalog with fabric samples.
—Is there a color you prefer for your dress?
—...as long as it's not pink...
Then, from behind the screen, as if waiting impatiently for that moment, Yves Russell jumped up and shouted.
—Silver, purple!
—Understood, Your Excellency!
Celia turned the thick pages of the catalogue.
He then stopped at a page where samples of silver and purple fabric could be seen.
—The lady's skin tone is a little dark, so I think it would be best to avoid a too bright silver tone.
—It depends on the color.
Marquis Russell walked over and took a closer look at the page where the samples were.
Then he took out a piece of silver, which looked the same as the color of Prince Olivier's hair, and a piece of purple, which was the same color as the prince's eyes.
Yves Russell asked Celia in a challenging tone.
—Can you do it? It doesn't matter how much it costs.
-Of course!
Radis was completely surprised by the color selection.
—You are the one who only wears black clothes...
Then, the Marquis approached her, placed the sample of cloth on her neck.
She could feel the soft touch of the back of his hand brushing the hair on her neck.
It tickles me.
Unaccustomed to contact with another person, Radis shuddered and jumped slightly.
He stared at a distant point and tried to think about other things.
—When I leave the Marquisate, I will definitely buy wool mattresses and down comforters. I want to take Brendon too, but it might not be possible... If he's the chef of the Marquisate, who has so much pride in having worked for the Russells for generations...! S-Then I can eat as much as I want before I leave...!
Valiz