The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 102: New Reflection

Chapter 102: New Reflection

Rosalie fixed her deep gray eyes upon the red paper bag adorned with a matching ribbon, carefully placed upon her bed and a faint sigh of mild irritation escaped her lips. The contents of the bag were hardly a mystery, and, truth be told, Rosalie felt a fleeting urge to dispose of it without further ado. Yet, her ever-persistent curiosity, an unyielding trait of hers, supplanted reason. In the end, she found herself unable to resist the temptation and gingerly untied the bag’s ribbon.

As her gaze swept over the items nestled within, Lady Ashter could not help but contort her features into a faint expression of disdain. Swiftly, she resealed the bag, placing it deep within her closet, concealed behind a row of gracefully flowing skirts.

"Angelica, it appears, possesses a rather mischievous streak, doesn’t she? First that book, and now this... Truly unexpected!"

At that moment, Rosalie discerned a gentle knock on her door, accompanied by the warm, inviting tone of Aurora’s voice, requesting permission to enter. Upon Rosalie’s granting of said permission, the maid, her face adorned with a distinctly joyful expression, gingerly pushed the door ajar and bestowed her lady with a radiant smile.

"Lady Rosalie, your wedding dress has arrived. Would you be inclined to indulge in trying it on?"

"Oh, Aurora, your timing couldn’t be better! Please, come in, I have a pressing matter to discuss."

With an air of anticipation gracing her features, Lady Ashter guided Aurora toward the elegant vanity mirror, directing her to the plush chair positioned before it. Taking her place on a nearby ottoman, she retrieved a dainty glass bottle from a purple box and handed it to her trusted maid, proceeding to voice her inquiry,

"Aurora, you work magic with makeup, do you perhaps know how to change the tone of the base?"

Aurora scrutinized the delicate glass bottle in her hand, a few moments of contemplative silence passing before she redirected her gaze to Rosalie, responding with a confirming nod,

"Well, I have refrained from procuring this particular item for you, Lady Rosalie, considering your naturally flawless complexion. However, I have learned from Mary, the diligent maid serving Lady Lawrence, that she blends cacao powder into her foundation due to Lady Lawrence’s deeper skin tone."

"Cacao powder, you say? Does it truly work?"

Aurora nodded once more in affirmation.

"Yes, My Lady, it seems to work remarkably well. As you are aware, Lord Valdamir Lawrence imports it directly from Izaar. Mary has overheard that Izaarian women commonly incorporate it into their makeup routines."

Rosalie retrieved the glass bottle from Aurora’s hands, positioning it before her face as if she were a seasoned expert examining a specimen.

"Cacao powder, huh? I suppose it’s worth a try."

With an undeniably eager smile, she enveloped Aurora’s hands within her own, her determination reflected in her eyes.

"Aurora, kindly fetch some cacao powder from the kitchen. We are about to embark on a series of experiments!"

***

After dedicating a substantial hour to the meticulous task of fine-tuning the concealing liquid to precisely match Rosalie’s envisioned tone, she finally departed Aurora’s room. Her destination? Her own bedroom. However, as she neared her chambers, a familiar petite figure, draped in black attire, came into view – it was Laith, emerging from her self-imposed seclusion.

Following the unsettling incident involving Lord Kaylen, Damien had fulfilled his promise to mete out punishments. Felix found himself inundated with an avalanche of tasks, diligently shouldering all of Damien’s assignments with unwavering independence. Conversely, Laith, in stark contrast, faced suspension from her usual duties, effectively becoming a reclusive figure within the mansion, confined to her room.

The serendipitous sighting of Laith presented a golden opportunity. Rosalie hastened toward the girl, causing her to reluctantly pause in her tracks, and then seized her by the hand, initiating an insistent tug in the direction of her bedroom. Despite Laith’s feeble resistance, Rosalie pressed on, undeterred.

As Rosalie abruptly closed the door behind her, she came to a halt, affording Laith an opening to voice her concerns.

"Lady Rosalie, what is happening? Is something wrong?"

Without uttering a word, Lady Ashter guided the girl to the plush chair positioned before the vanity mirror, and with swift yet delicate hands, she lowered Laith’s black hood, unveiling her scarred face once more. While Laith remained struck silent, Rosalie met her gaze and finally broke the silence.

"Laith, may I experiment with something on you? I assure you, it won’t cause any discomfort, but it might bolster your confidence in your appearance."

Though still perplexed, Laith hesitantly turned her face toward the mirror. However, the moment her big eyes met her own reflection, she swiftly averted her gaze, lowering her head in response.

"Lady Rosalie, if this is meant in jest, I must confess it seems rather cruel."

Lady Ashter’s eyes momentarily widened, clearly offended by such an assumption. She then gently grasped Laith’s face with both hands, locking her gaze with an expression that was earnest and, in part, tinged with a hint of anger.

"I would never jest about this! Now, please allow me to proceed. If you dislike the outcome, I assure you, I’ll never trouble you with it again."

Laith remained somewhat uncertain about Rosalie’s resolve to aid her in enhancing her appearance. Yet, for reasons she could not quite pinpoint, she found herself yielding. After all, she had entrusted Rosalie on numerous occasions, and thus far, that trust had never been misplaced.

"Very well, Lady Rosalie. I will place my trust in you."

Contrary to her pessimistic expectations, Lady Ashter required less time than anticipated for her transformational endeavor. Upon completing her own rendition of "magic," she delicately withdrew her face from Laith’s, scrutinizing her handiwork with the keen eye of a professional makeup artist. With a brief, affirming nod, it seemed that the techniques she had gleaned from countless online makeup tutorials had not dimmed in her memory.

"I believe it’s turned out rather well. I invite you to take a look."

Summoning the courage to confront her reflection once more, Laith’s eyes involuntarily widened in astonishment, struggling to comprehend the profound metamorphosis before her. The scar that had haunted her for so long had vanished, replaced by the visage of a lovely young woman with beguiling brown eyes, adorned with luxuriously long, fluttering dark lashes. As she continued to grapple with her newfound image, her lashes batted rapidly in a bid to acclimate.

"Lady Rosalie, how is this even..."

Laith found herself unable to complete her sentence, her words abruptly interrupted by a brisk knock at the bedroom door. Before Rosalie could provide an answer, the door swung open, admitting a lively Illai. The young boy dashed toward Lady Ashter, enfolding her waist in an eager embrace, his flustered face nestled against her stomach.

Their gathering promptly welcomed another member, Felix, who, as it appeared, had been in pursuit of the energetic youngster. His face bore traces of both concern and a hint of irritation.

"I apologize profusely, My Lady. The boy was in search of you, and I could not—"

His words trailed off abruptly as his gaze locked onto Laith’s countenance. A vivid shade of pink swept over his cheeks, mirroring the blush that had also tinged the girl’s face. In this shared moment of silent and flustered contemplation, Rosalie arched an inquisitive eyebrow, her lips curling into a subtle smile.

’Could it be... That these two like each other?’