The next morning, my alarm rang sharply, pulling me out of sleep.
8:00 a.m.
I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before finally sitting up.
Big day.
I started with my basics — brushing, washing my face — the usual routine. Then I paused.
Today wasn't usual.
I added a full skincare routine, something I had skipped all of last week. I needed to glow today — not for anyone else, but for myself.
While the face mask was doing its work, I headed to the kitchen and made a quick vegetarian breakfast. Nothing fancy — just something light and warm. As it cooked, I finished my household chores, took a shower, and then walked to the small temple I had set up in the corner of my living room.
I folded my hands and closed my eyes.
"Please… just let today go smoothly," I whispered.
After eating, I sat quietly for a while, flipping through a novel, learning a few new vocabulary words from a foreign language I'd been trying to pick up. I watched TV absentmindedly, then ended up taking a short nap.
When I woke up, it was already 3:00 p.m.
Reality hit instantly.
Lyra's makeup and hair stylists were arriving at 5.
I got out of bed and pulled out the outfit. Everything looked perfect — until I reached the corset.
Untied.
I sighed.
"This definitely needs two hands."
The ornaments Lucien had sent were laid out neatly on the table. He'd sent too many, honestly. I stared at them for a long moment, confused.
What do I even wear?
I gave up and decided to leave everything for the professionals.
Exactly at 5, the doorbell rang.
So punctual.
I opened the door and welcomed them in. For a moment, they just looked at me. I wondered if my natural, makeup-free face had scared them.
Then the makeup artist smiled.
"Wow… you actually look elegant already. Quietly beautiful. Why do you even need makeup?"
Inside, I smiled.
Outside, my expression stayed neutral.
"Thank you," I said calmly.
They exchanged looks, surprised by my blank face.
The hairstylist stepped forward."This outfit suits you perfectly."
She tightened the corset.
Too tight.
My breathing went shallow.
"Please… could you loosen it a bit?" I said softly.
She nodded and adjusted it.
It still felt tight, but at least I could breathe.
I sat in front of the mirror as they began their work.
Foundation. Eyes. Hair.
Time slipped by.
At exactly 6:00, they stepped back.
I looked at my reflection.
For a second, I didn't recognize myself.
I looked like I had stepped straight out of a novel.
So divine. So unreal.
They kept complimenting me.
I was terrible at receiving praise — I just nodded quietly every time.
They giggled.
"She's cute," one of them whispered, thinking I didn't hear.
I pretended not to notice.
Final checks:
Outfit — check.Ornaments — check (not too heavy).Makeup — check.Hair — check.Perfume — check.Heels — unfortunately, check.Confidence — questionable, but present.
I paid them.
Painfully expensive.
Half my undercover salary gone.
"Great," I muttered under my breath.
I took the elevator down — stairs were impossible in this outfit.
Outside, Lyra was already waiting in a Rolls-Royce Cullinan.
I blinked.
She's seriously rich.
I got in beside her, trying not to stare — and failing.
She looked stunning.
But as always, my face stayed neutral.
She smiled warmly.
We clicked a few pictures, laughing softly.
Then suddenly I shifted in my seat, trying to breathe properly.
She noticed immediately.
"Nyx, are you okay?"
I hesitated.
"The corset… it's too tight. Could you fix it a little? I need to breathe. And… eat."
She burst into laughter.
"Ten, you didn't change a bit. In such an important event, all you think about is food."
I just nodded.
She fixed the corset gently, still smiling.
She shook her head."You're impossible."
She said it fondly.
Apparently, she found it cute.
I didn't understand how.
At the venue, chaos welcomed us.
Flashes everywhere.
Paparazzi crowded the entrance, shouting names.
I could barely see in front of me.
Luxury cars lined up one after another.
Then I spotted Lucien and his uncle stepping out of their Mercedes-Maybach.
Lucien noticed me and smiled.
I nodded back.
Instantly, the cameras went wild.
Lyra leaned toward me and whispered,"See how popular they are? Especially Victor uncle. Even in his forties, that aura…"
I hummed quietly.
Then she squeezed my hand.
"Come. Our turn."
I hesitated.
"Well… they know you. You're the heir. You should go on the red carpet. I'll just enter through the hallway."
She stared at me.
"Don't be ridiculous."
Before I could protest, she dragged me along.
Her assistant wrapped scarves over our shoulders to protect us from the cold.
"Thank you," I told her softly.
Then Lyra and I stepped onto the red carpet.
Flashes exploded around us.
Photographers shouted, asking me to pose.
And somehow — thanks to whatever mysterious genetics I have — I automatically started posing like a model.
Lyra finished her walk and reached the end, waiting for me.
I could barely see through the lights.
"One more, ma'am!"
I forced one last pose.
Finally, Lyra pulled me away.
Inside the main hall, everything felt calmer.
Elegant students everywhere.
Soft music.
Golden lights.
We joined our group.
I stood quietly at the corner, needing personal space.
Of course, Lucien came and stood beside me.
I gave him a small I'm done look.
He smiled knowingly.
Crowded places drained me.
But I was here for Lyra.
She wanted my company.
And that was enough.
Everyone started chatting about outfits and designers.
I stayed silent, listening.
Watching.
Breathing.
Trying not to let the noise swallow me.