A Jealousy Fight (1)
“Ugh, ugh….”
“…Lily, are you okay?”
At the sight of a genuine bitch… of a woman, the likes of which I'd never faced before, I gagged, and Ethan gently rubbed my back as I heaved.
My head is spinning. I should have just looked away the second I saw her face.
Apparently, even with a woman's body, there were certain constitutions of mine that simply refused to change.
At the same time, I found myself spontaneously regretting the days back in my past life when I'd stirred up shit on LuRagal calling Lilith a used-up cum-dumpster whore. Sure, the fact that the main heroine wasn't a virgin had tripped every one of my unicorn sensors, but now that I was face-to-face with the real thing, Evelyn was on a completely different level of depraved.
“It's natural to be nervous. How's your stomach? Should I bring you some water?”
“…No. It did turn a bit queasy for a moment, but I'm fine now.”
Simply sharing the same air as her had nearly made me vomit up the acid churning in my empty stomach, yet somehow I'd managed to hold it down. I was almost proud of myself.
Thankfully, Ethan assumed I was worked up over my impending showdown with McHeart, so I got to keep my dignity. If he'd actually asked why, I hadn't had a single excuse prepared.
But hey — the price of that nausea had bought me near-confirmation that McHeart would be attending the noble exchange tonight, so all that remained now was to sit back and wait.
From the moment people began trickling in, I started winding down my conversation with Ethan little by little, deliberately cultivating an awkward air between us. McHeart hadn't shown his face yet, but I needed to lay the groundwork in advance if I wanted to deceive him later.
So while Ethan and I spent our time tucked away in one corner of the hall, the rest of the team, assembled according to the execution schedule, began to surface one by one.
“Agnes, is it uncomfortable matching my pace? Should I slow down a little?”
“…Don't treat me like a child.”
“That's a pretty dress. Seems different from the one you usually wear?”
“…I didn't wear it to show off to you. Mind your own business.”
There was Agnes, showing up uncharacteristically in a flowing, fluttering dress — and beside her, the Hero Gehmajoshigi-gwat, shortening his stride to match her little steps.
“…….”
“My lady, if it isn't too much of an imposition, perhaps when the ball begins, you would do me the honor of a dance—”
“Ah, a-ah, no…! I, I have a dance allergy…!!”
“…Pardon?”
I confirmed the attendance of Serista as well, who — despite insisting that her participation in events like this must never become publicly known — had strolled into the ballroom wearing an eye mask (which only made her more conspicuous).
Thanks to the unforeseen variable of Agnes not receiving an invitation to the exchange, Serista had been forced to attend alone, and honestly, the sight of her was pitiful in every possible way. The timid girl always used to glue herself to Gehmajoshigi-gwat's side at gatherings like this and never, ever let go — but right now, she looked like a hamster tossed into a snake pit.
I did feel guilty about it. But her presence was essential to this operation, so there was nothing to be done.
Still, once this was all over, I'd make her a true saintess for real — so as apologies and tokens of gratitude went, that would be a pretty decent one for a fake saintess like Serista.
And finally, there was the cum-dumpster Evelyn herself, returning some thirty minutes after having left her seat. At this point, everyone who mattered had gathered — everyone except McHeart.
The exchange kicked off with a brief opening address from the emcee appointed by the event's anonymous host, and roughly ten minutes slid by.
Then, trailed by a peculiar buzz of murmuring, a single man strode into the hall.
…Naturally flanked behind by more than a dozen women.
“It's been a while, has it not, Prince McHeart? I trust you've been well?”
“Yes, quite well indeed. My apologies, but my memory fails me — might you be the daughter of House Burko?”
“My father is a count, not a viscount… but it is an honor to be remembered at all!”
“How fortunate that I got half of it right. Might I ask if you have plans this evening? The time I spent with you before was quite memorable, you see. If you would do that thing for me again, I shall be sure to summon you tonight as well.”
“R-really?! I would be honored, Prince McHeart!”
“I, I would do anything for you, Your Highness! So please, grant me the honor as well….”
“Me too, Prince McHeart!”
“Today is a safe day for me, you know….”
…For the sake of my mental health, I resolved not to glance in that direction for the foreseeable future.
The density of non-virgins in the air spiked sharply with McHeart's entrance, and my stomach lurched again. Though maybe the vaccine dose I'd gotten from Evelyn was working, because I seemed to be holding up reasonably well.
At McHeart's arrival, the Hero and Agnes began angling their gazes toward our side of the room, clearly poised to slip into the operation, and I silently signaled back with nothing more than a blink.
…Now was where the operation truly began.
From the moment McHeart entered the palace grounds, Ethan had been executing the operation exactly as I'd instructed.
The plan: to pointedly ignore me, seated across the table from him, and shift his gaze toward other noblewomen instead.
Since McHeart would come lunging after me, Ethan and I couldn't afford to look too cozy together — so the goal was to manufacture a rift so obvious that anyone could see it.
And since I'd told him it worked best to ogle the more exposed women, Ethan fixed his stare on a lady whose chest was practically spilling out of her gown — a gaze so blatant that anyone watching could feel the lecherous intent radiating off it.
…Not that Ethan needed reminding that, exposed or not, mine were still the bigger pair.
“I'll go fetch us something to drink, Ed.”
“…Right, Lily.”
Timing it to the moment a young lady — convinced that Ethan's wandering eyes were flirtation directed at her — rose and moved to approach him, I deliberately slipped away from the table. From here on out, if we wanted to spark a jealous love war, we had to show a little vulnerability.
By the time I'd fetched two glasses from the drink bar, just as I'd predicted, some poor sacrificial lamb had claimed my seat and was chatting away merrily, as if she were Ethan's fiancée or something.
“I had no idea Lord Blackwood was that kind of man. You're secretly quite the lecher, aren't you?”
“…I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“I've been watching you stare this whole time. Stare at a woman's chest that brazenly and she's going to notice, you know.”
“…….”
“Won't you let your fiancée touch them? Or what — have you finally gotten bored of these uselessly big breasts of mine?”
A nameless noblewoman, chattering away at Ethan in high spirits, completely oblivious to the fact that I was approaching from behind. And Ethan, fielding her advances while studiously avoiding her eyes, played the conversation as smoothly as he could.
“Forgive me for making comparisons, but I fail to see what your body has that Lily's doesn't.”
“You'd actually say that to a woman's face? Honestly.”
“If you're that confident, why don't you explain it to me, then?”
“Well, for one, your fiancée's chest is uselessly huge, isn't it? Breasts like that are nice to look at, but no fun at all to touch~.”
What absolute horseshit. Bigger is better when it comes to a woman's chest — a fact ninety percent of healthy, red-blooded men in their prime would agree with without hesitation.
Granted, there were men whose tastes ran to the extreme flat end of the spectrum, Agnes-types, but those guys were statistical outliers and clearly shouldn't be counted.
Among men who liked a woman with a decent bust at all, the general consensus was: the bigger, the better. I knew this because past-life me was living proof. It was an indisputable fact.
“What's so great about a chest that just sags there with no firmness, no spring to it — one you can grope all you want and feel nothing? Me, I've got just the right amount of bounce, plenty of satisfying give left. And no need to worry about them heading south with age, either.”
This world has magic for that, you know? No sagging with age here whatsoever. I should just drive this glass straight into that insolent little mouth of hers—
‘No. No, wait.’
Come to think of it, there wasn't a single reason to get riled up over something like that. Somehow I'd latched onto something absurd and let my focus slip for a moment.
This woman was, after all, a poor clueless noble lady who had no idea she and Ethan had orchestrated this whole situation to draw out people just like her.
And in a sense, she was actively helping with my McHeart takedown operation. There was no reason whatsoever to lose my temper with her.
This much wasn't worth me stepping in to pick a fight over. I'd just observe a little longer, then casually insert myself and start a verbal brawl with Ethan. That was the plan.
“Oh, and another thing — the bigger a woman's chest, the weaker her sensitivity gets. A quiet woman in bed has absolutely no charm. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Blackwood?”
“…Is that so? I wouldn't know. Lily doesn't exactly show weak reactions.”
“That's all an act, sweetie. How could anyone feel much of anything lugging around breasts that size? A mouse could crawl into her cleavage and she probably wouldn't even notice what it was.”
Um, no? I feel it a fuck of a lot, actually? My body is far more sensitive than your little imagination could ever picture?
I feel it every single time Ethan touches my chest? And here I am, quietly listening while she just spews whatever garbage happens to tumble out of her mouth.
But the nameless noblewoman, who'd apparently chosen the strategy of dragging me down to lift herself up as her method of conquering Ethan, kept comparing herself to me as she prattled on.
…And at some point, without ever realizing that her own behavior had crossed the line.
“If you don't believe me, then why not compare for yourself?”
“…Compare?”
“You brought your fiancée along today, didn't you? The fact that you brought her to an event like this means she'll do anything you ask, no? So say it proudly. That tonight, you want to hold both me and your fiancée in your bed at the same time.”
“…That's absurd….”
“Put us side by side and you'll know for certain. Whose body is more obscene, more alluring — which of us is moaning fake. And then you simply choose, Lord Blackwood?”
“…….”
“Shall we start with something simple? You have kissed your fiancée before, I assume? So why not compare, right now, which of our lips is softer—”
—Sssshhhhhhhrrrk.
“……L-Lily?”
By the time I'd shoved that pig-anus mouth of hers right up in front of Ethan's face, I was already upending the contents of the glass in my right hand over the top of the noblewoman's head.
“Get your grease-dripping pig offal away from my Ed, you two-faced bitch.”