Chapter 115
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 115
Nigella must have known as well.
However, he was never the type of man to feel pity for Tulia entering the room alone. On the contrary, once today’s party was safely over, he would likely return to his room and shower Belladonna with praise for how wise she had been.
‘A lady of high standing absolutely needs a partner to escort her, after all.’
To coil up in my own territory and attack me like this. And to wear such a troubled, feigning smile while doing it.
“Shall we head to your seat first, Lady Tulia?”
“Very well.”
It seemed Belladonna Merton had taken over the role of the practical host entirely.
‘There was a reason she held this birthday party now of all times.’
In many ways, I could feel Nigella’s desperation to solidify his mistress’s standing. I followed Belladonna Merton’s lead.
Since today’s party was, "for now," Sandra’s birthday celebration, the act of sharing cake and serving food was of utmost importance. Thus, round tables covered in white tablecloths were placed at appropriate intervals, and the most prestigious seat among them was the table for Nigella’s family.
Glancing around as I walked, I noticed that the party’s concept seemed to be strictly for families, as all the tables were set for two.
Of course, my seat was…
“Goodness. Countess Orquichin.”
I spoke with a blank expression as I looked at the massive table situated even lower than Nigella’s.
“My table is far too large.”
“I didn’t realize Lady Tulia would be coming alone, so I prepared such a large table in advance… I am so sorry.”
Belladonna kept apologizing, yet she never lowered the fan covering her mouth. Numerous nobles were watching us from the surroundings.
Well, from my perspective, it didn’t matter whether Belladonna was laughing behind that fan or not. She was simply following social custom by using the fan to hide half her face. Whether the other nobles could see the smirk behind it was irrelevant.
This was a blatant attempt by Belladonna to humiliate me, and it was a situation where I was clearly meant to lose.
‘There isn’t a single empty chair. And all the other tables are for two.’
This meant there was no room for me to join any other lady or noblewoman by claiming friendship. It was a thoroughly prepared trap.
Was this revenge for me calling her "Miss Belladonna"? Or was it for the way I had ruthlessly lashed out at her with my triple-twisted words? Whatever it was…
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Belladonna Merton likely expected me to sit at that giant table and force myself to eat cake and food. I could have stormed out, but that was the kind of thing the "real Tulia"—the one who was truly foolish and lacked foresight—would have done.
But I wasn’t such an amateur anymore.
I gave a deep smile to Belladonna Merton, who was still hiding her mouth behind her fan.
“…?”
Then, I lightly clapped twice. A servant wandering nearby rushed over immediately.
“Lady Tulia. Do you require something?”
“Bring a chair and follow me.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes, My Lady.”
“Countess Orquichin.”
Belladonna, who had been watching my strange behavior with a peculiar expression, responded with a smile.
“Would you like to follow me?”
I turned around so sharply that my skirt made a snapping sound. Then, click, clack. I marched toward the stairs.
In a grand banquet hall of this scale, there was always a dais prepared from which one could look down upon the room.
“My Lady?”
“Set it down here.”
“Yes…!”
The chair the servant hurriedly placed was right in the center of the dais. I sat down and crossed my legs.
“Lady Tulia? What are you doing right now…?”
“Countess Orquichin.”
I lightly crossed my arms and continued with a bright smile.
“Since I am the one who has been granted sovereignty over internal affairs for this main castle, I shall sit here.”
“…!”
“Now, shall we enjoy the party?”
“Lady Tulia.”
“You should head back down. You need to sit next to Sandra, don’t you? I’ll be watching from up here.”
“…Lady Tulia. I don’t think this is quite right…”
“Why?”
“No matter the circumstances, Sandra is the host and Lady Tulia is a guest. To look down on everyone like this… the Count will be displeased.”
“Then you go down, Countess.”
I leaned back and continued.
“Just send Uncle Nigella up here.”
In an instant, Belladonna Merton’s breathing faltered. Her composure crumbled by exactly that much. She seemed to have anticipated what I was about to say next, and I intended to meet her expectations.
“Hurry along now.”
“…”
“Because no one except those of the Frezier direct lineage is allowed to stand up here.”
“…!”
I heard the sound of teeth grinding behind the fan.
“…I shall take my leave, Lady Tulia. I hope you enjoy the party.”
“You as well, Countess.”
Swish.
Belladonna Merton looked like she had taken a direct hit. Her walk, which had been elegant and subtly coquettish, faltered for a moment.
Your blood must be boiling, isn't it? You probably want to grab me by the hair and shake me, right? But that’s something only the old Tulia would do.
As expected, Nigella did not come up to the dais. Strictly speaking, even Sandra was not of the "Frezier direct lineage." And they must have realized it by now—that I was so full of venom that if Sandra even tried to step up here, I would bring up that fact and turn this entire party into a disaster.
‘Anyone watching would think I really am the original Tulia. I have no intention of going that far, though.’
Height naturally influences human psychology. Perhaps because I was sitting in the highest spot, I felt like the master of this place.
‘That’s probably why Sandra keeps glancing up with such a resentful look.’
Let her.
I leisurely scanned the people below the dais. The nobles, who had been wary of me at first, began to laugh and chatter as the party got underway. Looking at the ratio, it was about 80% mother-daughter pairs and 20% father-daughter pairs.
‘Everyone looks good, at least.’
Of course, some families might just be pretending to get along, but I could only see the surface.
Delicious food was served on the perfectly sized two-person tables. Fine champagne and fragrant juices flowed. The massive birthday cake, which looked like it had taken the chefs a week to bake, was beautiful and sweet, decorated with plenty of fresh cream. Everyone looked happy enjoying this delightful formal banquet.
The same went for the dancing that followed the meal. Since most of the guests were mothers and daughters, the specially invited orchestra mostly played pieces meant for two women to dance together. The bright, bouncy melodies were accompanied by bursts of laughter from all corners.
And me? I was reprising my role as a wallflower, part two.
As the meal ended, the chairs and tables were efficiently cleared away, making it awkward to remain sitting alone on the dais. Of course, even if I was to be a wallflower, I didn't forget to walk with my back as straight as if my spine might snap.
Whether it was luck or misfortune, there were so many guests that quite a few people were standing against the walls, which provided some small comfort.
‘Though I’m the only one alone since everyone else is with family.’
I briefly considered calling for Lisian or Leon right now, but…
‘Doing that now would just be ridiculous.’
It would make me look like a child running to her brothers because she couldn't handle being alone at a party. I felt that the real way to win against Belladonna Merton, who had tried so hard to insult me, was to maintain the act of being "perfectly fine" until the very end.
Besides, she almost certainly hadn't sent invitations to Lisian and Leon. She would have brushed it off as a mistake by the servants. For a gentleman or a lady to attend a party they weren't invited to was a breach of etiquette. I had no intention of giving Belladonna Merton even the slightest opening to criticize me.
So, I just stood there alone, people-watching.
‘I’m glad I dressed up so flashily today.’
An LED light never looks pathetic.
“Tulia.”
It was then that Nigella approached me.
“It is a waste for a lady as beautifully adorned as a flower to not dance even once at a party.”
I don't see any flower-like gentlemen here, though.
“Your uncle shall grant you a dance.”
At Nigella’s words as he held out his hand, I almost blurted out, “Excuse me?”