"Lord Rest... I wonder what he's doing right now?"
In a room of House Rosemary, the second daughter Primula Rosemary let out a sigh before a mirror.
Countless cosmetics were spread out in front of Primula, who sat before her vanity.
On top of that, several dresses were laid across the bed.
(I've never done makeup before, but... for Lord Rest's sake, I have to make myself a little more presentable...)
Primula was the younger of the twin sisters born into the marquis's house.
She was timid and often hid in her sister's shadow, but that night she was unusually practicing her makeup.
The purpose was to prepare herself for entertaining the boy they had invited to the estate — Rest.
Ever since she could remember, Primula had always felt complexed toward her sister Viola.
Viola was a beauty with flowing golden hair, strong-willed, and gifted with magical talent.
Such a twin sister was both an object of admiration and a wall for Primula.
As long as her sister was around, she could never come out on top.
She would always remain second.
She could never surpass her sister.
That awareness constantly followed her.
In truth, she probably didn't go so far as to demean herself that much.
No one had the right to decide whether a rose or a lily was more beautiful.
Primula didn't have the vibrant, powerful beauty that Viola possessed, but she carried a quiet, graceful elegance of her own.
Their parents, too, had never drawn a clear distinction between the sisters.
The inferiority complex that Primula harbored was nothing more than something she had entirely...
...inflicted...
...upon herself.
Troubled as she was by all this, Primula received an invitation to visit House Eberun alongside her sister.
The boy she was introduced to there—Cedric Eberun—left Primula with nothing but feelings of discomfort.
(He keeps staring at my chest and my sister's... How revolting.)
Her twin sister Viola was well-developed for her age, but in truth, Primula actually had the larger chest.
Having her fully developed chest gawked at so rudely left Primula with an undeniable aversion toward Cedric.
Her feelings of loathing only grew as they ventured deeper into the forest.
He was probably trying to show off his strength, but the way Cedric mercilessly slaughtered monsters, trampled their corpses, and laughed about it was simply terrifying.
(I could never like this person... I don't want to be around him.)
If her sister hadn't been there, she would have fled on the spot without a second thought.
(If I'm going to get married, I want someone kind. He doesn't have to be rich, and he doesn't have to be handsome. I just want someone considerate who respects my feelings...)
These were thoughts Primula entertained regularly, but boys of her generation who actually met those criteria were exceedingly rare.
For the most part, the only ones who ever appeared before her were sons of noble houses.
Children born into the privileged class tended to be headstrong, and the majority of them were painfully proud.
Not all of them were like that, but—given that Primula was a marquis's young lady—those who gathered around her were invariably drawn to power.
Even among those who had no interest in power, learning that she was a marquis's daughter left them too intimidated to interact with her naturally.
"Cedric went and caused a fuss. Sorry about that. There's nothing to worry about anymore, so you'll be fine."
But... that boy appeared before Primula without warning.
The boy who had rescued them from the White Fenrir had gentle, calming eyes.
He called himself Cedric's younger brother — Rest. He looked genuinely apologetic that his brother had put them in danger, yet he treated Primula and the others with complete natural ease.
What's more, he used healing magic on the injured White Fenrir and its child, letting them go without taking their lives.
Primula was, after all, the daughter of a court magician.
She knew full well how dangerous monsters were, and that they had to be hunted for the sake of people's livelihoods.
Even so, she found herself powerfully drawn to this young man who had saved his sisters with such tenderness and shown such mercy in sparing the White Fenrir.
(He's kind... so, so kind. If someone like this could stay by my side going forward, how peacefully I could live...)
Even though he was the same age as her, she felt as though she were dealing with someone far more mature.
Gentle, composed, self-assured, and dependable.
The boy named Rest was, for Primula, the ideal man.
(My sister seemed interested in Rest too... but this is the one thing I can't lose.)
She had spent her entire life in her strong sister's shadow.
If she backed down again this time, she felt she would live out the rest of her days in a place the sun never touched.
(No matter how much I love my sister, I can't give up Rest. Absolutely not...!)
If it turned out to be impossible, then perhaps she would rather...
Sensing where her thoughts were heading, Primula shook her head vigorously.
"I wonder what kind of dress Rest would like..."
Having finished her makeup practice, Primula stayed up late into the night, choosing a dress to wear for the first man she had ever found dear to her heart.