The next day.
The Sullivan residence.
"Eleanor, are you up?" Patricia Tihanna knocked on Eleanor Sullivan's bedroom door.
Sunlight slipped through the gap of the curtains, falling across Eleanor's face. Warm. Soft. It made her squint. She slowly walked over to the door.
Eleanor opened it, looking at Patricia with clear displeasure. The two of them just stared at each other for a moment.
Patricia spoke, "Today we're taking you to try on wedding dresses. Behave yourself today. Remember—your outfit should look gentle and ladylike. If you don't have anything suitable, go to your sister's room and pick one from hers."
Eleanor's brows knitted. She let out a heavy sigh. "Got it." Seeing Patricia still standing there, she asked, "Anything else?"
Patricia awkwardly replied, "N… no." Then headed downstairs herself.
The vanity table was covered with Eleanor's sketch papers. She rarely actually dressed herself up. She opened her wardrobe—everything was in black. Not remotely close to "gentle" or "ladylike."So she ended up going to Cecilia Sullivan's room.
Inside—rows of pastel dresses. Eleanor froze. Was she going to have to wear dresses all the time now? She was about to lose her mind. With helpless resistance, she simply picked one she could barely accept.
The fabric was light—like a summer breeze brushing softly across the skin, slightly sweet at the same time.
Eleanor looked at herself in the mirror again and again. Her smile looked unnatural—she was trying to get used to this new style.
A knock suddenly cut through the quiet, piercingly sharp, breaking the silence of the room.
Patricia stood at the door, hands tightly clasped, palms sweating. She wasn't sure if Eleanor had listened to her or not.
"Come in." Eleanor spoke calmly in the direction of the door.
Patricia carefully peeked inside—and when she saw Eleanor in the mirror, she couldn't help but let out a gasp of amazement.
Eleanor glanced at Patricia, then walked out without a word.
Patricia watched Eleanor leave, a complicated emotion rising inside her—pity. If only Eleanor had been raised at her side from the start… and cultivated properly… maybe…
"Is Eleanor ready?" Harold Sullivan's sudden voice cut through her thoughts.
Patricia snapped back, "She's ready." The image of Eleanor in front of the mirror resurfaced again.
Harold nodded faintly. "Once this is over, we can go find Cecilia." Harold loved his eldest daughter deeply. These days he couldn't stop thinking—Was Cecilia doing well? Was she eating properly? His heart ached with helplessness. If only the company hadn't failed so badly… he never would've considered using Cecilia in an arranged marriage. His chest tightened as he looked at Cecilia's smiling photo, fingers subconsciously brushing the cold glass frame.
Moonlace Bridal Atelier.
"Mrs. Sullivan, Miss Sullivan, please have a seat. Cordelia Griffin said they'll arrive shortly." The attendant bowed slightly, cautiously watching Patricia's expression. When Patricia nodded, she hurriedly retreated.
Eleanor looked around the boutique—wedding gowns everywhere—and her gaze stopped at the one in the very center. Pure white silk, tiny crystals and pearls, shimmering under the lights like holy radiance.It was the wedding gown she herself had designed.
Just as she was about to reach out—
"Miss Sullivan, you can't touch that!" an attendant suddenly called out. Behind her stood a woman—dressed simply, gentle in temperament. A faint smile on her lips—kind and warm.
Before Eleanor could question anything, Patricia already stepped forward with a full polite smile. "Cordelia Griffin, you're here. You really do spoil your nephew—you still make time to personally attend despite your busy schedule."
Behind Cordelia, the figure of a man walked over. Tall. Composed. Restrained aura. Every movement carried the mature charm of a man fully in command of himself.
Patricia stiffened slightly when she saw him. "Lucien… Mr. Griffin."
Lucien Griffin nodded slightly toward Patricia—polite, yet emotionally cold. His gaze then shifted toward the center display—toward the white gown—right next to a young woman who looked strangely familiar, though her overall aura… was completely different than he remembered.
Eleanor's eyes paused, slightly startled by his presence.
"Who is she?" Lucien spoke first.
Patricia saw Lucien seemed somewhat interested in Eleanor—so she glanced at Eleanor, signaling her to come forward. "Mr. Griffin, this is my daughter—Eleanor Sullivan."
Lucien studied her face with mild intrigue. "Miss Sullivan, your clothing style today is quite different from usual."
Patricia immediately grew tense. "Indeed. My daughter's dressing has… always been rather unique."
Eleanor slowly walked to stand beside Patricia. "Mr. Griffin—do you mind?"
Lucien looked at her. A faint smile. "I don't mind."He then sat down on the sofa and opened a stack of documents.
Cordelia spoke calmly, "Don't mind him." Then invited both women to sit and start selecting wedding gowns.
"The one in the center." Lucien looked at the lively discussion between the two women, then lightly swept his gaze across the shop. His eyes ultimately stopped on the gown from Lunaissance Fashion Week's finale show. A sudden image flashed in his mind—those deep eyes of "Y."His gaze then shifted to Eleanor—her hand subconsciously tightening around her teacup.
Patricia subtly pinched Eleanor's thigh—signaling her to go try it.
"Very well, Mr. Griffin. I'll go try it." Eleanor entered the fitting room. She was putting on a wedding gown she herself had designed.
"Whoosh—" The curtain slid aside.
Eleanor stepped out wearing the perfectly tailored wedding gown. She stood there gracefully—every movement radiating mesmerizing beauty. The gown outlined her slender figure and elevated her natural noble aura. Her collarbones subtly revealed. Her eyes held confidence and resolve. As if she were a queen about to ascend—walking toward her own destined brilliance.
Lucien's eyes flashed with disbelief—as if he saw a phantom overlap. He instinctively widened his gaze, studying Eleanor carefully—trying to confirm something.
Cordelia and Patricia both drew in a breath the moment Eleanor stepped out.
"Wrap it and take it." Cordelia calmly instructed.
The attendant froze for a moment, voice trembling slightly. "Mrs. Griffin, this piece is rental only. It is not for sale. And Lunaissance Studio also specifically emphasized that this gown can only be rented once. After rental, it must be returned to the studio." She bowed respectfully.
"Only once?" Lucien's gaze moved away from the gown—catching the key point instantly.
"Yes, Mr. Griffin. Just once. Lunaissance wedding gowns bear witness to only one couple in a lifetime. They symbolize a lifetime vow—only guarding one person—till death." The attendant answered with a composed soft smile.
Lucien paused, slightly stunned. His brow rose faintly."One lifetime… only one person…"
Cordelia's expression stiffened a little. Seeing this, she didn't continue arguing. She simply took out a card.
"Then rent it."
"Yes, Mrs. Griffin." The attendant took the card and left with both women to the front counter.
Lucien glanced again at Eleanor in that gown. Slowly his gaze traveled upward—until it met her eyes—as if trying to pierce right through her.
Eleanor felt a chill prickle along her spine. She kept her expression gentle."Mr. Griffin, anything else?"
Lucien silently shook his head, saying nothing. Then turned and walked out.
Outside the Moonlace Bridal Atelier.
"Mrs. Griffin, are you free tonight? Perhaps we could have dinner together?" Patricia spoke eagerly, trying to curry favor.
Cordelia already had a faint sense of disdain toward the Sullivan family. She'd heard enough already—this girl, though stunning, had spent years abroad with no real news of any career achievements. Becoming the future mistress of the Griffin family wasn't as simple as living comfortably. But Cordelia couldn't override the Griffin family patriarch's stubborn will.
Lucien didn't wait for his aunt's reply. He answered first.
"Mrs. Sullivan, I won't be joining. I have another engagement tonight."Then he glanced at Cordelia. "Aunt, I'll leave first."