Chapter 23
Obedience comes with a price.
Whether that price brings joy or sorrow is usually only known once you’re faced with it. And the price of the obedience I endured today was the utmost ordeal.
Because I had to hold each of the nine outfits—along with their hats and gloves—up to my body one by one to check the designs and fabrics.
“That’s much better.”
On top of that, the star of this doll dress-up game wasn’t me—it was Lu!
He toyed with my body as he pleased.
It might sound suggestive now that I say it, but I swear, it’s no exaggeration.
Lounging on the long sofa like he owned the place, Lu directed every detail—the fabric colors, brightness, patterns, lace combinations—with infuriating pickiness and precision.
“This one’s good too.”
“Right? It’s all the rage these days. It suits your fair, translucent skin so well. For a striking beauty like you, miss, I’d usually recommend bold solid colors, but this pastel turquoise tone will surely look perfect on you too.”
Even to my eyes, which had zero connection to design or art, his aesthetic sense was clearly exceptional.
“The fabric will be that one.”
Not only that, but he ignored the owner’s strong recommendations and stubbornly matched only the fabrics to his own taste.
‘If you’re going to make it with the fabrics you like, why bother holding them up to my face?’
My legs ached from standing for nearly two hours. I shot him glares for dozens of minutes, radiating irritation.
“This time, pick a fabric that Miss Daisy likes.”
Out of the blue, like he was doing me some grand favor, he handed the decision over to me.
Thanks a bunch. But what was I supposed to do with this? These clothes weren’t even for me to wear anyway?
“That one and that one.”
From the fabrics and laces scattered everywhere in every color imaginable, I picked the two most eye-catching ones.
Namely, the zebra-print fabric that looked like it belonged on a plains-runner and the spring flower-embroidered lace.
“This fabric… is that what you mean?”
Nod.
Contrary to my expectation that she’d be baffled, a spark of excitement lit up in the owner’s eyes.
“I see. Ladies do sometimes gravitate toward bold designs for undergarments.”
What? It was lingerie fabric?
I glared at Lu, who was smirking at me with an expression that screamed, ‘What terrible, tacky taste—how low-class.’
That sneaky bastard.
In stark contrast, the owner bobbed her head enthusiastically as if struck by sudden inspiration, then whispered in my ear.
“It’s the perfect combination for an unforgettable night. You have excellent taste.”
In that moment, it hit me naturally.
‘This woman thinks Lu and I are a viscount couple out slumming it as commoners.’
Not all that surprising, really.
Sure, I might pass, but Lu’s roguishly handsome looks and relaxed demeanor didn’t scream ordinary.
Plus, he was customizing the viscountess’s clothes exactly to his tastes like he’d been waiting for this—something only the couple themselves could pull off.
“That concludes the checks for designs and fabrics.”
Freedom!
I dashed into the changing room, threw on my clothes, and came out. Never had my shabby, outdated outfit felt so lovable.
Lu chuckled softly as he watched me flee with my hat pulled low over my face.
“Was it that awful?”
“Better than cleaning.”
At least that wouldn’t leave me shaking from boredom.
That was when Lu, having paid, sauntered over to me.
The clerk who had greeted us at the shop entrance earlier approached him with a tense expression.
“Um, sir… by any chance, do you work at Weatherwoods Mansion?”
“That’s right.”
“If it’s not too much trouble… could I… have your name?”
The clerk’s cheeks flushed pink as she spoke.
Lu smiled gently and replied as if it were no big deal.
“When the clothes are ready, just send word to Weatherwoods Mansion.”
“Ah, no, that’s not what I—”
“What are you doing standing there like an idiot, Miss Daisy? Wasn’t it awful?”
“Sir!”
The clerk rushed up desperately and grabbed Lu’s sleeve. But Lu casually brushed her hand away.
Unlike the owner, who had her suspicions about our identities, the clerk seemed to take Lu at face value.
Well, that much was true, at least.
Lu brushed past me and pushed open the heavy door. Propping it open with his back, he jerked his chin toward the street, and I obediently followed.
We walked casually down the road until Lu came to an abrupt stop in a spot not far from the tailor shop. He brushed at the sleeve of his overcoat—tap, tap.
That was the spot where the clerk had grabbed him, even if just for a moment.
Was it just his neat-freak tendencies, or was there something fundamentally off about his personality?
With Lu, it could be both.
“I brought you out here to practice speaking, and all you do is pick out godawful lingerie with zebra prints that could pass for a wild stallion on the plains. Is there no reward for me personally showing up?”
Yup, definitely both.
‘If you wanted me to practice talking, you could’ve given me a heads-up.’
Still, I wasn’t too worried about my stilted speech patterns. In a man’s body, I was confident I could rattle on at length.
“Lu.”
“Lu?”
“Mr. Lu. Has the plan changed? Am I supposed to be the viscountess and you the viscount?”
“The viscountess is me.”
So brazen, you’d think he’d been born one.
“Then why measure to my body?”
“More efficient that way. And follow me this way instead. It’s too early to head back to the mansion. We need shoes too, and men’s clothes.”
“…Men’s clothes tailored to your height?”
“Of course?”
Lu glanced back at me lightly as he retorted.
Clothes fitted to Lu. That meant I’d have to transform into a tall, slim, toned man—at least 190 cm, no excess fat.
‘This body’s already uncomfortable enough, and now you want me twenty centimeters taller?’
That wouldn’t be efficient at all. If we were doing custom fits, better to match a body I was used to.
Vaguely recalling Anderte’s height, I said,
“Can we do a different height?”
“For example?”
“Height 180 cm, more developed chest, biceps, triceps than now, neck a bit shorter. Waist slimmer, but hips…”
“Is that your personal preference, by any chance?”
What? I startled and shook my head vigorously without thinking.
“No? Why would it be? Totally irrelevant?”
Lu tilted his head at me with a suspicious look.
“If it’s not, how do you describe it in such detail? Amazing.”
Well, because it was my body…
“Might as well go with something comfortable since I’ll be moving in it.”
Now that I thought about it, I had described it way too creepily in detail.
Fortunately, Lu didn’t press further.
Instead, he turned and led us into a narrow, dark alley between townhouses. I spotted a gray rat scamper away in fright.
‘Why here…? Don’t tell me he’s the type who teaches perverts a lesson with his fists?’
My steps faltered as I trailed him. That’s when Lu turned his back to me.
“How’s this?”
Something felt off, and sure enough, his gaze looking down at me had shrunk considerably.
‘He used transformation magic without even chanting?’
Silent magic.
A realm not easily attained.
It was just one step below Sword Master—the pinnacle for swordsmen.
My suspicion that Lu was an imperial mage gained even more weight.
“…Shoulders are too broad. Make them a bit more human-sized.”
Crack, crunch.
With a chilling sound of bones shifting, Lu’s body changed again. His shoulders narrowed as requested.
“Skin needs to be tanner. Wrists thicker. Hands too.”
His skin darkened like a shadow had fallen over it.
“Hmm. Something’s… off with the overall frame…”
Tsking in annoyance, Lu asked in a somewhat irritated tone,
“Who are you picturing so vividly?”
I hesitated.
I couldn’t say ‘my past self,’ so maybe ‘my brother’?
But honestly, basing it on my brother’s build would be even weirder, right?
Lu urged me coldly.
“Answer me. Should the family jewels be bigger? Or smaller?”
“Family jewels? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lu stared at me steadily, then suddenly grinned with delight.
“What do you think?”
Yeah, what indeed.
Don’t look down. Just keep staring at his face. Play dumb like now.
Don’t let stupid pride make you say, ‘Obviously bigger!’
In the long silence, Lu’s face fell with disappointment.
“If you can’t say, we’ll just go with this.”
“…Yeah. That’s good enough.”
“It had better be. Even at this height, I feel like I’m walking around stuck to the ground.”
At 180 cm, my height, he’d probably feel like his feet were glued to the earth.
