How utterly baffling!
I couldn’t be bothered with him, so I decided to continue trying on my dresses.
Just as I picked up the black dress, about to try it on, Maple burst in again?!
From my perspective, he had barely left before he was back, which was truly baffling.
It reminded me of certain mental patients who pace in and out of a doorway, and if asked what they’re doing, would reply, “Reloading the save file.”
“Do you think this dress looks good on me?”
I held the skirt against myself, showing it to him.
He paused, momentarily taken aback.
The imposing aura he had arrived with was instantly dispelled by my question.
“It looks good, yes, but you’re not planning to wear this to the martial arts tournament, are you?”
“I am, indeed. Is there something wrong with that?”
“What’s the meaning of wearing black to watch my match? Are you preparing to mourn me at any moment?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t be entirely in black. I’ll carry a bouquet of chrysanthemums, which will make it less monotonous~”
“Why are you speaking in such a sarcastic tone?”
“You were the one who first insinuated I looked like I was attending a funeral!”
“Tsk, I can’t be bothered arguing with you! In any case, wearing black is unlucky.”
He turned his face away, clearly annoyed, then shifted the topic, murmuring, “Couldn’t you just wear red?”
“Oh?”
With a knowing gaze, I surveyed his attire: a small blue shawl and blue shorts. It seemed only his undershirt was white; everything else was blue.
“So, you want us to be a red-and-blue couple, huh? You should’ve just said so~”
His composure shattered, he retorted, “What ‘red-and-blue couple’? I just genuinely think red looks good!”
“If you think red looks good, why don’t you wear it yourself? Oh, right—”
I turned, flinging open the wardrobe doors wide!
An array of dazzling women’s clothing instantly appeared before his eyes!
“Perfect timing! Why don’t you try on some women’s clothes? I have so many red Lolita dresses, you know.”
He froze for a moment, then slowly, step by step, backed away from me.
“I… I never imagined you had such a… peculiar penchant…”
His tone suggested he was seeing me clearly for the very first time.
“What’s the big deal? I think you’d look great in women’s clothes~”
“Stop messing around! I’m a boy! How could I possibly wear women’s clothes!”
His face flushed crimson as he vehemently rejected my suggestion.
“What’s wrong with being a boy? Can’t boys wear women’s clothes?”
Amused by his embarrassed reaction, I advanced on him, still holding the little dress.
“G-goodbye…!”
To describe his departure as “fleeing in disarray” would be entirely accurate.
I stared at the empty doorway, muttering to myself, “Aren’t I also a boy…?”
In truth, Maple wasn’t embarrassed; she was simply guilty.
History, it seemed, had a startling way of repeating itself, for she had returned, her face flushed.
Her maid, Lucia, quickly asked, “What happened? Did you manage to put Princess Fubai in his place?”
“The result…” Maple slumped onto the bed, covering her face with both hands, too mortified to speak clearly. “She… she forced me to try on women’s clothes.”
“…” Lucia watched her silently, thinking, ‘Just how badly has Her Royal Highness been bullied now?’
So pathetic, I can’t even carry them.
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