France was rumored to be a mysterious country, its language unpopular. Few people understood it; even Leah relied on a translator to communicate. Surprisingly, Maeve spoke the language fluently.

Fiora, removing the contempt from her eyes and raising her chin, said, "I want several gowns for the state banquet. They must be elegant, charming, and complement my poise. They must also be special and unique. The collar should be decorated with high-quality black pearls, and the cuffs with the brightest gemstones. For the hem, embroider the most elegant rose pattern using that specific embroidery..."

She rattled off a list of demands, bordering on the ridiculous. Maeve listened patiently, waiting for Fiora to pause for a breath before asking, "If we use too many gemstones, the gown might be cumbersome to wear."

"Surprisingly, as a designer, you lack a pursuit of beauty," Fiora said disdainfully. "Without many gemstones, how can I highlight my beauty?"

Maeve was speechless. Forgive me for not understanding this… aesthetic, she thought. But it's the client's request.

After noting Fiora's requests, Maeve turned to the silent young man. "And you, sir?"

Fiora leaned close to the young man, expressing her displeasure endearingly. "Loren, she's asking you. You're accompanying me; why ignore me? Don't behave like that, or I'll complain to the Queen." Loren raised his eyelids. His handsome, youthful face remained emotionless.

Fiora, a little afraid, put on a brave face. "I'm your sister, and you treat me like this?"

"Say that again, and I'll throw you off the plane," Loren said, his voice pleasant yet cold.

Fiora's face fell. Unable to rebuke Loren, she took it out on Maeve. "Ask him yourself! Don't you have a mouth?" She angrily grabbed her handbag and stormed to the bathroom.

Maeve thought, The temper of these royals! Approaching Loren, she noticed his neck was slightly flushed. She glanced at his milky beverage. "Shall I get you a different drink?"

Loren remained silent, eyes fixed on his phone. Shortly after leaving the reception room, Maeve returned with hot water and allergy medication.

"This is allergy medicine from the infirmary," she said gently. "You have red spots; you must be uncomfortable. Take this. Next time, tell someone if you can't drink something." Loren looked up.

"Don't try to suck up to me," he said arrogantly.

Maeve chuckled. "Would I get a commendation from Her Majesty or a cash reward? Don't think so badly of people." He's just a teenager, she thought. Why so guarded?

"Who knows?" Loren pocketed his phone, hesitated, then swallowed the medicine with the water.

Maeve sat opposite him. "Are you afraid of taking medicine?"

"Stop being a blabbermouth," Loren replied icily. "I'm afraid you're poisoning me."

Maeve smiled. "I see. What kind of evening wear do you like?"

"Black and wearable."

"Is that all?"

Loren's look indicated she shouldn't expect more. He wasn't like Fiora.

Maeve thought, These siblings are polar opposites. "Alright. I'll have free rein, then."

Half an hour later, Fiora emerged from the washroom. Learning Loren was also commissioning evening wear, she looked puzzled.

In the car, she tugged at Loren's sleeve. "Didn't you say you weren't interested? I begged you for a matching outfit, but you refused. Why agree with that woman?"

"That's none of your business," Loren said sourly.

"Do you have feelings for her because she's beautiful?" Fiora was furious. "She's older than you! I'm your sister, and you're not even obedient to me!" Loren thought, Sister… Hostility flashed in his eyes. "Have you had enough? My sister died a long time ago. Shut up!"

Fiora shrank back, crying. "I'm your sister! Unless that girl rises from the grave, you'll acknowledge me for life!" Her voice was harsh. Loren put in his earphones.

Maeve was unaware of this. She stared at the safe Fiora had left behind, thinking, That girl is serious about jewels…

Leah warned, "The jewelry is probably worth over $20 million. Be careful; don't lose it!"

Maeve snapped back to attention. "Ms. Mason, I'll store it in the company safe and only take it out to make the gown." If I lost it, I couldn't afford the compensation, she thought.

After securing the jewelry, Maeve received a call from Archer. He asked her to meet with McDaniel Group to sign the contract.

"Mr. McDaniel finally has time for a small fry like me, huh?" she said resentfully. She felt tricked. Archer explained McDaniel had been busy.

"I don't care if he's busy or ignoring me. Tell him my schedule is full. He should go to international designers. I'm sure they'll be more satisfying than a small-time designer like me."

She hung up angrily. She felt confident after signing two contracts; Byron's contract wouldn't be a loss. She wouldn't butter up to him. She'd never design a suit for him.

Archer reported to Byron with a distressed expression. "Mr. McDaniel, Ms. Reese might be upset after waiting so long. She's angry…"

Byron raised an eyebrow. Angry? She wants me to make the first move. But it's normal to be annoyed after waiting! "Call their design director and tell her I'll only sign with Maeve. Otherwise, the collaboration is off."

Archer sighed. Mr. McDaniel, why make things so difficult?

Later, Leah told Maeve, bewildered, that Mr. McDaniel wanted her to sign the contract that day or the collaboration would be canceled.