My Step-Daughters Are The Villainesses

Long minutes dragged on as Airam, Hermione, and Esther sat in the opulent fitting area, arranged before a massive mirror so they could properly admire the glittering displays brought before them.

Each sister was attended by a pair of meticulous staff women who fluttered about them like doting mothers. The attendants happily combed through silvery trays, eager to spoil the three young beauties who looked delicate enough to be porcelain dolls. Esther, in particular, found herself quite pampered, smothered in a constant rotation of sparkling adornments.

Airam, however, proved to be a jeweler’s nightmare. The staff struggled to find a single piece that could satisfy her sharp tastes. As they presented necklace after necklace, her responses remained reliably blunt: "No." "Too bright." "Too heavy." "Ugly."

Esther was a difficult client for different reasons. She enthusiastically claimed to love everything the women draped over her collarbones, yet she fidgeted nervously in her seat, her mind anxiously tallying up the imaginary fortune being spent on her behalf.

Hermione sat in the middle, still trying to accept this overwhelming luxury after her earlier conversation with Ulrich.

Every time an attendant fastened a clasp at her nape, she immediately asked for the piece’s price in gold, clearly attempting to hunt down the most frugal option. But in an establishment of such high prestige, even the most modest trinket carried an astronomical cost. The wealth of it all left her suffocating. It was a completely different universe from the modest, comfortable life they had shared with their mother, where they were well-cared for but never spoiled to such an extravagant degree.

Observing from the background, Ulrich realized the fitting was grinding to a halt. Between Airam’s ruthless rejections, Esther’s anxious indecision, and Hermione’s frantic penny-pinching, they were going to be trapped in the boutique until nightfall. The jeweler himself cast a pleading glance toward Ulrich, unable to rush the three noble ladies himself.

Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Ulrich rose from his seat. He moved with such silent precision that he materialized like a phantom directly behind Hermione’s chair, his tall frame suddenly towering over her reflection in the glass.

"W—What!" Hermione panicked, her shoulders jumping as she caught sight of him looming behind her back.

The female attendants immediately scrambled out of his way, their cheeks flushing crimson simply from his proximity.

Ulrich paid them no mind, keeping his crimson gaze fixed squarely on Hermione’s reflection. He definitely possessed no expertise in the domain of women’s jewelry, which meant he would simply have to rely on his own preferences.

"Show me the ruby necklaces. That is the gemstone she requested, is it not?" Ulrich directed his voice to the staff, who nodded.

Within seconds, an attendant raised a wide-lined box containing several scintillating ruby pieces, while another staff member hurriedly presented a second display case. Ulrich stared down at the sprawling selection of sublime designs. His eyes tracked over the gold collars and elaborate chokers before stopping on a simpler piece. It featured a delicate, thin silvery chain that suspended a single, beautifully cut, pear-shaped ruby encased in a pristine silver setting.

"This one," he ordered.

"An excellent choice, My Lord," the jeweler praised, a wide, relieved smile breaking across his face.

The attendant quickly unclasped the previous necklace from Hermione’s flushed neck. With gentle fingers, she draped Ulrich’s selection into place. The fine silver chain blended perfectly with the pale strands of Hermione’s silvery hair cascading over her shoulders, while the deep red of the ruby perfectly matched the hue of her eyes.

"How do you find it, My Lady?" The jeweler asked softly.

"I—I..." Hermione trailed off, raising her gaze to the mirror to properly take it in.

It was definitely amazing. It also looked terrifyingly expensive. Slowly, her eyes shifted upward from the gem, inevitably meeting Ulrich’s stare through the reflection of the glass.

"I—I will take it," she stammered, lifting a hand to her face in a vain attempt to cover her cheek. She was incapable of hiding the deep red flush spreading across her skin.

"Now, select a pair of earrings and a bracelet," Ulrich said, his voice dropping to a pointed tone as he looked down at Hermione. "I trust you will be able to choose them yourself now, or do I need to personally select those for you as well?"

"I will do it!" Hermione blurted out instantly. She was already flustered enough without him hovering over her to pick out her earrings.

"Good," Ulrich said simply, turning on his heel and walking toward Esther’s chair to resolve the next sister’s dilemma.

"Lord Ulrich!" Esther gasped, startled as though she might vault right out of her seat at his sudden approach.

"Just pick what you like," Ulrich told her, his tone noticeably gentler than it had been moments prior.

The blatant difference in treatment was impossible to miss. Overhearing him, Hermione let out a quiet, indignant grumble as a staff member carefully lifted her wrist to test the fit of a silver bracelet.

"Um... but I like everything," Esther said timidly, shrinking slightly in her chair. "And I don’t want it to be too expensive..."

"Money is not an issue," Ulrich replied. "And it never will be. I possess enough wealth to buy this entire establishment, so choose."

Esther blinked in stunned silence. Then, hesitantly, she turned her attention to the tray held by one of the attendants. Her trembling finger hovered over the gleaming metals before tapping lightly against an elegant choker centered by a brilliant, deep-blue gemstone.

"Select the rest of your set however you please," he told her, cutting off any further protests before she could voice them. With Esther settled, he turned to face his greatest headache.

Airam sat like a stone statue, stubbornly refusing every single piece the exhausted attendants presented to her.

"I don’t want to wear anything," Airam said, glaring at her reflection as Ulrich approached.

Ulrich stared her down. "A Count’s daughter cannot attend a royal banquet with a bare neck," he said.

The gowns currently being tailored for them would feature elegant, revealing necklines; going completely unadorned was out of the question. Ulrich intended for the sisters to eclipse every noble in the room. His greatest weapon was his wealth, and he fully planned to wield it to force Skargardia’s high society to accept the girls, whatever the cost.

"It’s heavy," Airam shot back.

"I didn’t ask you to wear a block of concrete around your throat," Ulrich said, shooting her a dry look.

Seeing her fall into a stubborn silence, Ulrich shifted his gaze to the display cases. There were dozens of elaborate gemstone arrangements, but knowing Airam’s sharp disposition, anything overly flashy would be immediately rejected. His eyes caught on a necklace composed of three cascading layers of large black pearls. It was dark and elegant, likely the only piece in the room she might actually tolerate.

"This one," he ordered.

A frightened attendant picked up the necklace, inching behind Airam with trembling hands. The moment she reached forward to drape the pearls, Airam swiftly slapped the woman’s hands away.

"M-My deepest apologies!" The attendant squeaked, scrambling backward in terror.

Ulrich watched Airam for a moment. He struggled to understand a woman who would refuse the chance to drape herself in a fortune. He had no desire to truly force her hand, but since her sisters had accepted them, she needed to wear something that evening.

Stepping forward, Ulrich snatched the pearls from the terrified attendant and positioned himself behind Airam’s chair. He reached out to drape the strands over her chest himself, but her hand snapped up, gripping his forearm to stop him.

"Wear this, and you will not have to wear anything else," Ulrich said, offering a compromise.

At that, Airam’s grip loosened, and her hand fell back to her lap.

"Your hair," he said.

Airam reached up, gathering her black hair and sweeping it over one shoulder, leaving the nape of her neck exposed. Ulrich’s fingers fumbled slightly with the delicate silver hook, a rare moment of clumsiness, but he finally managed to secure the clasp.

Airam lifted her chin, meeting her own gaze in the mirror. The three-tiered black pearl necklace rested perfectly against the pallor of her collarbones, dipping gracefully toward her neckline. In the shadows, the spheres were a pure, abyssal black, but as she shifted under the boutique’s lighting, the smooth surfaces caught the glow, shimmering with hidden iridescent flashes of opal.

Her eyes widened slightly seeing it.

It was actually better than she thought.

"If you don’t like it, you may choose any of the others," Ulrich said, shifting his gaze toward the remaining necklaces. "But you have to wear one—"

"I’ll take this," Airam’s voice cut through his words.

Ulrich turned to look at her. She had lifted her gaze to meet his.

"I’ll take this one," she repeated, her tone surprisingly serious.

For a moment, Ulrich was caught off guard. Beneath her usual cold exterior, he glimpsed something else, almost a faint, nearly pleading expression in her eyes.

He paused, then gave a nod.