Published: August 1, 2025
I rubbed hand cream into my hands after a day’s work. It was the kind the knights’ order used, different from regular ladies’ cosmetic creams—no color or scent. But it was incredibly effective. Not sticky, and it wouldn’t dirty anything I touched. Truly a blessing for us craftsmen.
Holding up my hands, now moist and glossy, I let out a little laugh.
“…I’m so happy…”
A voice escaped without thinking, and with that, my happiness only grew stronger.
People’s feelings become more real when spoken aloud.
I realized that today.
Sighing, I looked up at the ceiling. Upstairs in the workshop, where Norman’s bedroom used to be, Ruifeng was sleeping now. Thinking about that, a small chuckle slipped from my lips.
…There’s nothing funny, really, yet here I am, laughing.
I got up and moved in front of the mirror. What I wore now was a cheap but pure white cotton one-piece dress… Yeah, cute.
You see, I’ve always liked fashion. I was just apathetic because my parents always forced clothes on me—I didn’t hate dresses. In fact, I loved clothes so much that I aimed to become a clothing craftsman.
Still, I don’t regret cutting my hair. It’s easier to live pretending to be a boy in this town. My desire to keep working as a craftsman here is genuine. But that doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned being a “woman.”
I get sick thinking about flattering men I don’t like. Being toyed with is out of the question. Yet I know there are genuinely good men in this world, including Norman.
If it’s someone I like, I want to be praised, to dress up and wear makeup—that feeling is real too. All of those feelings, they’re all me.
“—Yes. I wanted Ruifeng to say I’m beautiful.”
Saying it aloud made me realize it was my true feeling.
That foolish prince’s first impression was “a beautiful man.” In Dilz, white skin is a symbol of beauty; his silver hair shone even whiter, and his eyes were an icy blue like a midwinter lake. He looked just like a fairy tale prince.
But that didn’t make my heart flutter. Maybe because I had been praised endlessly myself, I didn’t think appearance was such a big part of a person. More than that, his frivolous smirk irritated me.
At first, I hated him. I didn’t even hide it. I’d learned that if I showed a weak side, he’d take advantage.
Still, it didn’t affect him at all. He just kept grinning without changing his attitude yesterday or tomorrow. It was like he was never trying to win my favor.
Yet he came to this cramped workshop often, stayed comfortably for a long time, and never interrupted my work. Playing the prankster who tells lies on a whim, sometimes—but only for a moment—he showed a painfully sad expression.
What do you want? What are you hoping for from me? Not some cheesy flattery—don’t you have something more to say to me?
I gradually became frustrated.
Because it’s annoying, right? Every time he comes, I’m tangled in these thoughts, making it seem like I’m the one who cares about him!
I thought about getting back at him somehow.
Then, I saw the lipstick the princess had given me and got an idea. I’d surprise him with a dazzling makeover. Dress up beautifully and shock him, at least once, make that fake smile of his stiffen.
That was all I intended…
But what was with that reaction?
He stared at me, mouth half open, utterly blank.
No usual pompous flair, just muttered quietly, “You’re cute.”
That… made me so happy… I couldn’t help but think, “No, you’re the cute one.”
I sighed deeply and lifted my face. The mirror reflected a sloppy, melted expression on a woman’s face. Ugh, how uncool. My eyebrows were furrowed, ears red, facial muscles slack.
No way? When I think about him, do I really make such an uncool face?
Since when? What if it’s been like this all along? I just wanted to make him speechless—that was an excuse too, wasn’t it?
Unbelievable, wanting to look away, wanting to run away. But—
I reached out and touched the mirror. My fingers felt the hard glass. I couldn’t touch what was inside, but my true self was definitely reflected there.