Chapter 54
My seat was right next to the host, Llewellyn. As the saying goes, the seats flanking the host are the finest of all. With no imperial princess present at the palace, I—as the highest-ranking lady in the empire—was perfectly suited for the spot. I let out a quiet sigh of relief inside that no one had made a fuss over the seating arrangements.
"Thank you for accepting my invitation, Lady Crisis. This gathering will surely shine because of you."
"You're too kind."
Our formal exchange as host and guest was brief. Normally, such greetings would drag on with layers of flattery, but Llewellyn and I both despised empty formalities, so it ended quickly.
I'd already checked the guest list, but even so, I slowly scanned the ladies settling at the table. It filled me with a touch of pride to see every single one wearing a body chain.
The lady right across from me is from the Count Hanel family. The rest are daughters of counts or barons.
Naturally, none outranked me in status. Yet high society wasn't ruled solely by birthright—the true power here belonged unequivocally to Llewellyn.
The ladies offered me short greetings before turning to chatter among themselves, though they kept stealing glances my way. Their eyes held curiosity, the predatory gleam of someone testing if they could push my buttons, and outright malice.
...This is going to be exhausting.
It was my first social event since debuting, so I'd expected the stares and petty jabs. Still, facing it head-on was already a chore. I sipped the steaming milk tea and sighed inwardly.
...Does Llewellyn hate me too?
I didn't care what the other ladies thought. Malice was nothing new, and none of them factored into my plans anyway. But if Llewellyn harbored ill will toward me, it would sting for some reason.
I slowly turned my gaze to Llewellyn beside me—and nearly flinched. She was staring straight through me. Her green eyes burned with sharp scrutiny, uncertainty, and wild excitement.
Even after our eyes met, she didn't look away. If anything, she widened hers and glared harder. It was so intense that I averted my gaze without thinking.
She doesn't seem to hate me... but that look is seriously unsettling. Still, she doesn't seem convinced I'm that Sword Master. Suspicious, sure, but not certain.
No one dared approach me directly despite the sidelong glances, which let me drain three cups of tea in peace and devour the not-too-sweet desserts—befitting Decardo's reputation for extravagance—without interruption.
"Ahem! That said, Lady Crisis... your outfit looks awfully comfortable."
A lady in a cute lavender dress sidled up to me with a sly comment.
I wondered when you'd get to it.
No sigh escaped me this time. I blinked indifferently and glanced down at myself.
A crisp white dress shirt overlaid with a deep purple vest. A black harness crossing over it. Black leather half-palm gloves exposing half my palms. High-waisted black riding pants hugging my legs perfectly. A black coat draped over my shoulders.
It was an utterly ordinary outfit—one no man would ever be criticized for wearing.
If he were a man.
"Yes, it's very comfortable. I prioritize simplicity and convenience."
I answered perfunctorily, pretending not to catch the sarcasm laced in her words.
Though I hadn't fully engaged in society, unavoidable encounters with nobles after joining House Crisis had taught me when to parse words carefully and when to take them at face value.
"Ahem! Even so, with Lady Decardo so graciously inviting us to this beautiful garden, doesn't it feel a bit discourteous? It's men's clothing, after all."
And when the barbs came, it was better not to dissect their true intent—just let them speak plainly until frustration forced it out.
Ever since becoming a Crisis, I'd been endlessly nitpicked for wearing pants. A woman in trousers was improper, they'd say.
Even if Kal and I coordinated outfits and went out together, no one breathed a word to him—only me.
People too terrified to utter a peep if Kal strolled the streets in his underwear spewed nonsense at me alone. The reason was disgustingly transparent.
Because I'm a woman.
Something I couldn't choose, couldn't change with effort. My face hardened into a blank mask as I gripped my cup a little tighter. It trembled faintly under a Sword Master's grip.
Whatever. It doesn't matter. They'll need me soon enough.
Some great hero once said that if the world discarded him, he'd discard it in turn. I was different.
The world had never truly possessed me. If it rejected me, I'd become indispensable to it myself.
Until it knelt at my feet, begging for my presence.
So the headwinds tripping me up were nothing more than a tickle.
"Lady Decardo, has my attire offended your tea party in any way?"
I turned directly to Llewellyn, ignoring the whispering ladies.
Beating around the bush all afternoon was pointless—better to cut it short.
Llewellyn looked at me. She didn't seem to dislike me, but in a room full of ladies showing open hostility, I doubted she'd take my side.
If she called it rude, I'd apologize cleanly and be done. Kneeling over trifles was easiest.
"No."
Her answer surprised me.
"It suits you perfectly. I can't fathom why they're making a fuss."
Llewellyn gave me a small smile. Startled by the unfamiliar expression, I widened my eyes, and she quickly schooled her face back to neutral.
"H-ha, but it's still men's clothing..."
"Do clothes have a gender? You're not in nightclothes, so I see no reason to make an issue of it. That deep purple vest looks wonderful on you, by the way."
Llewellyn cut off the rebuttal sharply and even complimented me. I blinked rapidly, dumbfounded.
"Uh... thank you. Your dress is beautifully designed too, Lady Decardo."
At my awkward praise, Llewellyn demurely lowered her eyes before whipping her head away.
Still haughty as ever.
Llewellyn... wasn't supposed to be like this.
In the original story, she was the archetypal villainess, obsessed with femininity, dignity, and beauty.
I'd even worried she'd chew me out over my outfit. What a needless concern.
Fairy's Night really is trash to be discarded.
I scolded myself for clinging to the original despite vowing not to, erasing the story's Llewellyn from my mind.
From now on, the Llewellyn before me was the real one.
"...If Lady Llewellyn thinks so, then it must be."
The lady who'd hoped for Llewellyn's support deflated in disappointment but backed off with a resigned air. I'd been absent from society, so I might look like crumbs to them, but Llewellyn was still formidable.
My mood soured a bit, but I magnanimously chalked it up to their immaturity.
The tea party dragged on tediously. With no one I knew, I just sipped tea and nodded along occasionally.
Surprisingly, Llewellyn was quiet too, brushing off advances with curt replies—yet she watched me intently whenever she had a moment.
It was a little unnerving.
"It's getting late. You should all head home."
Llewellyn finally spoke after staring at me for a while. Bewilderment rippled through the ladies.
I'd been dodging her gaze but looked up in surprise.
"B-but it's only been an hour since we gathered..."
"The days are still chilly, and sunsets come early. Better for everyone to return promptly."
Llewellyn chopped off the tentative objection and spoke firmly. It was a clear dismissal.
"If you insist... we'll take our leave then."
No one here could defy Llewellyn—the owner of the venue and absolute ruler of society.
I wanted to ask some things but couldn't... oh well.
As they rose hesitantly, I figured I'd follow suit and save questions for later, starting to pull back my chair. But Llewellyn's lingering gaze pinned me.
"Lady Crisis, if you're not busy, could you stay a moment longer? I have something to ask."
I paused in surprise but nodded.
"Of course. Not a problem."
I had things to discuss too, so a chance to speak alone was welcome. I sat back down as the other ladies shot envious looks before vanishing.
Only Llewellyn and I remained in the beautiful rose garden. I savored the sudden quiet with a sip of tea.
"What did you want to ask me?"
"Will you answer if I say I'm curious?"
"If you answer my questions, I'll answer yours."
A subtle power play passed between Llewellyn and me. Light reconnaissance.
She arched a sharp brow and nodded slightly.
"Fine. Give and take is the foundation of business, after all. I'm not the type to renege on a deal, so no worries there. But you'll respect my right to silence?"
"Naturally. It's not like it'll be anything too tricky."
"One question each, answers must be truthful. If not, we invoke silence. On a noble's honor. Got it?"
"Yes."
Llewellyn was a thorough negotiator. After a quick back-and-forth, we settled on terms satisfying both, and the real conversation began.
"Good. I'll go first. Lady Crisis, you've met me before, haven't you? Before your debut."
Her curveball came straight at me. Since I'd planned to lay it all out anyway, I nodded without hesitation.
"Yes. We have met."
Llewellyn's green eyes darkened, lost in thought.
To give her time, I paused before firing my question.
"I've heard you always ask about my sister Aria whenever you meet her. Why is that?"
At my words, Llewellyn's face flushed as red as her fiery hair.