Victoria froze at this unexpected turn of events, and the magic power in her hands dissipated.
She looked at the unfamiliar steward before her in confusion and nodded. "That's me. May I ask who you are...?"
The middle-aged steward smiled and bowed courteously.
"My name is Morrison, head steward of the Silvermoon Pavilion. At Mr. Greg Sass's request, we have reserved a complete bespoke formalwear service for you, including an evening gown, jewelry, shoes, and coordinated makeup design. Please allow us to escort you to our establishment now for measurements and style selection."
His voice was neither loud nor soft, yet it carried clearly throughout the hall.
Isaac's expression froze instantly.
The Silvermoon Pavilion-that was the Roman Merchant Guild's premier bespoke clothing brand, catering exclusively to the most elite clientele.
It was said that every gown there was handcrafted by master artisans, with fabrics and gemstones carefully selected from all over the world, and prices high enough to leave anyone speechless.
More importantly, the Silvermoon Pavilion served only the continent's most powerful and wealthy figures. Ordinary nobles were not even eligible to make an appointment.
Isaac clearly remembered that even his father, a count of the Empire, had once sent someone to inquire about the Silvermoon Pavilion's bespoke services, only to be rejected outright without so much as a meeting.
And now, this lowborn commoner, as he had called her, was being personally welcomed by the Silvermoon Pavilion's head steward?
The surrounding students, who had been enjoying the spectacle, began talking among themselves.
"The Silvermoon Pavilion? The actual Silvermoon Pavilion? Did I hear that right?"
"And he said Greg Sass arranged it, but didn't I hear he'd already been cast out of his family?"
"He can still get the Silvermoon Pavilion to send someone after being cast out? Could that