Measurements taken.
Mysterious style chosen.
And we’re done.
Hayashi Takao sees us off with promises to deliver and thanks for our patronage.
All in all, everything’s good.
But to say I'm nervous is an understatement— it’s more like I'm terrified. I already knew that high-class omegas are worlds apart from normal omegas, but seeing Takao solidified it for me.
There’s something called poise, and only good breeding can get you that.
And that is something I do not have.
Even my table manners are abysmal.
The thought of walking into that gala as I am now makes my stomach churn. I don’t want to go.
But Miyamura said I must.
And he’s paid for a suit.
A suit that costs more than my house rent for two years.
Even if he didn't, there is no way I could disobey him.
There’s no ch
