"You are especially beautiful today, Miya Young-ae."
Said Marquis Francois, rolling up his smooth lips.
The dress he prepared ahead of Miya's debutante was an ordinary design that never went out of fashion.
Instead, he replaced the gorgeous jewels with pure white lace with elaborate patterns, reminiscent of a priest despite wearing a dress.
He was very satisfied with his work and once again sternly said to Miya.
"Don't lose your smile if an unexpected accident occurred. It is also not recommended to add too many words to help you if you can't speak. If you expose your weak inner skin, the other person will stab you. Respond with a humble attitude and remain relaxed. That is the key."
Marquis Francois gently curved his eyes.
"You have saved so many people from the incense accident, so you can be proud of it."
"I see."
Miya liked the clothes he had prepared.
Because she seemed to have a real divine power in her reflection in the mirror.
With a smile on her expressionless face, Miya nodded her head and climbed into the carriage prepared by the Marquis.
Shortly thereafter, she arrived at the Duke of Orgo Castle and met the Duchess of Orgo.
Thierry stood beside the lady holding a dark blue fan in a noble manner.
"Hoam!"
Thierry, who had been playing poker all night, yawned until his mouth was torn, and the Duchess of Orga shuddered and slapped her son's in the back.
"Oh, my! It hurts!"
"If you're going to do this, why do you say you will escort me in the first place? You're just yawning so that everyone can see your entire throat!"
"Father is very busy with military training, and Diego is in the territory. I'm the only one left."
“Oh, you poor child! Because of you, I can't live up to my name.”
Looking at the dark corner of his son's eyes, it was clear that he had returned after playing all night.
She has much to say, but she needed her eyes to see and climb, and the Duchess managed to hold back her anger.
"Miya, let's go to the Imperial Palace for now."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Hold me. Mother."
Thierry reached out his hand gracefully to her mother in front of the carriage. Only then, her bloodshot eyes didn't show her shape at all.
"That's enough! You ride separately."
The Duchess, who slapped her son's hand hard enough to make a loud noise, got on the carriage with a nervous motion and told the coachman to leave.
'Anyway, my mother is rude.'
Thierry, who got into the carriage that followed, nodded as soon as he sat down in his seat, and then fell to a boil in an instant.
Thud-!
After a while, he banged his head hard against the window, opening his eyes.
'What's going on?'
As soon as he woke up, his five senses stood sharply. He didn't feel good.
"Master! There's a crack!"
