5. You can make a good-looking man

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Now that I was allowed to wear men's clothes and practice sword fighting, I began to devote myself to self-improvement with even more enthusiasm than before.

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It is said that the daughters of noble families wear makeup in public from an early age, so I was not particularly blamed for practicing makeup.

 

When I begged my mother to take me to see a stage play to help me with my makeup, she got excited and said, "I'm interested in girly things!" It was hard for me to get excited. After going to see the play a few times, she realized everything when I started wearing make-up as a man, and was disappointed and a little conscience-stricken.

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I didn't do it well from the beginning. I used stage makeup as a reference, so I sometimes overdid it and ended up with a horrible gekiga-style face, and other times it turned out to be somewhat interesting.

 

By the time a month had passed, I think I had gotten the hang of it.

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I can make good-looking people.

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By the way, my brother was not afraid to say "my sister is the cutest thing in the world" at any time, so it was not helpful.

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Perhaps it was the effect of the calcium, but my height also grew rapidly, probably by 20 centimeters in a year. Compared to other children his age, I am a head taller.

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I still have a weakness for green peppers, but I have a good relationship with other foods.

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In terms of swordsmanship, there was a more convincing change. It's not that I was particularly good at sports in my previous life (I don't think so), but apparently I..., or rather Elizabeth Barton, had a talent for swords in her body.

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It's a talent that I probably would have never noticed if I had been living as an ordinary duke's daughter.

 

By the time I had been practicing for a year, I had even won a mock battle against a tutor who had come to teach me. Of course, I was stronger than my brother.

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And most importantly, he was addicted to training.

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I was still a child, so I couldn't do strenuous muscle training, but I could swing, do repetitions, run, and do ukemi. It was interesting to be able to do things that I couldn't do before, and I enjoyed the fact that my body moved surprisingly well.

 

I even devoted all my free time outside of practice to training. I had talent and I worked hard. It was only natural that I would get better.

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I was so busy training that I almost forgot that I was a duke's daughter, but then a social event came up that I had to attend, even though I was a daughter of a high-ranking nobleman.

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It was a party to celebrate my fiancé's eighth birthday, and of course I had to attend.

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But I hadn't made my debut in the social world yet. There was no need for me to dance. All I had to do was smile next to my fiancé and say hello to him. I don't think I need to be there.

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I don't like it at all, but I'm usually allowed so much freedom. It would be wrong if I didn't socialize with her at least once in a while.

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So, I was seated in front of the dresser and the maids were applying my makeup.

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"It's been a long time since I've worn women's clothes.

 

"Please don't call me a cross-dresser."

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When I accidentally blurted out, the head maid who was standing behind me interrupted me. The make-up itself was done by a much younger maid, but she was probably watching me to make sure I didn't run away.

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I looked at my face in the mirror. I usually do my own makeup to look like a man, so it was refreshing. It's not bad at all, but I think my normal face is more attractive.

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After all, what you see on the outside is what you get on the inside. I try to act and speak in a way that is appropriate for men's clothes, and I aim to be a noble and fabulous target. It's only natural that I look better when I'm dressed in a way that matches what I am and how I act.

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The problem is my hair.

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My mother, who had been watching me from behind, walked up to me with her heels clacking.

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She is a slender and pretty woman, but when she looks down at you with wrinkles between her eyes, it's quite intimidating.

 

"It's okay, isn't it?"

 

It's a good idea to just let it slide a bit.

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"No, you can't.

 

"That's exactly what cross-dressing is."

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My suggestion was quickly dismissed. It's funny. It should be my make-up, but I feel like I haven't been allowed to say anything since a while ago.

 

I made eye contact with the head maid in the mirror and shrugged my shoulders.

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"It doesn't matter, the prince is the star of the show and no one cares about me."

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"You're the prince's fiancée, so of course people care about you!"

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This time, my mother was angry with me.

 

After much pondering, the head maid and the mother stroked all the hair back, pinned the false hair to the back of the head (I got stung in the scalp several times during the process), gathered the false hair into a bun, pinned it again, and finally finished it off with a lace chignonette.

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It looked like a ballerina's, but it was certainly better than the original.

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I had thought it would be depressing to wear a dress that was so heavy and difficult to move in, but when I tried it on for the first time in a while, I didn't feel the weight at all.

 

I think I have gained strength and muscle power. This is the result of my daily training.

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The children's dress was not the right shape for me - indeed, a woman of the same height as a petite adult woman would almost be a hairball if she wore such a fluffy and fluffy dress. The corset was squeezed, but it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be.

 

I was so depressed that I didn't want to go, but I felt a little better because

I could see the fruits of my labor in an unexpected way.

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There was no point in saying "I hate it", this was like a job in a way.

 

I'll just finish my work and get back to my training.

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