chapter 12
After the National Founding Festival ball, an enormous number of invitations came flying in.
It seemed spring was truly beginning, as the once-desolate garden had grown bright and colorful.
The window to my room, which had stayed shut through the cold months, now opened quite often.
The temperature difference between day and night was still large—nothing serious, really, but my frail body sometimes protested nonetheless.
“The sun is warm this May, and the scent of flowers lingers in the air.”
“It would be our greatest honor if Lady Clotilde would grace our meaningful gathering with her presence.”
I idly flipped through the invitations that had piled up from all sorts of social gatherings. No matter what fancy excuses they made… the real intention was plain to see.
“In the end, they all just want to hear more about my meeting with Damian Beldeltert, don’t they?”
Taking him as my partner to the Founding Festival ball had truly been an excellent choice.
Until now, Archmage Damian had never been involved in any scandals with noble ladies. Even attending a ball with an unmarried lady as a partner was a first for him. He was famous for his cold indifference toward both women and men.
But right after I broke up with Polius, I entered the ball on Damian’s arm—of course everyone was dying of curiosity, wondering how I managed to melt the great Archmage’s icy heart.
I stroked my chin in thought.
“What if Damian weren’t the Archmage, but just a plain-looking young man?”
Even if he’d never had a scandal, no one would’ve cared.
He would’ve been a rock on a cliff—something no one noticed, let alone admired.
“And if Damian were of low status?”
They might have congratulated me to my face, then snickered behind my back—saying I’d have been better off staying with Polius.
“No, choosing Damian was definitely the right call.”
In high society, a breakup usually becomes a weakness. But somehow, my value had skyrocketed.
The dramatic confrontation between the three of us at the last ball probably helped.
A woman caught between two men—it was, even I had to admit, a perfectly theatrical composition.
“But still, attending any more social events right now would be premature.”
I was close enough with Damian, yes, but nothing official had been declared between us. It would be awkward to answer questions about our “relationship.”
“Still… it’s Scarlett’s birthday. I can’t exactly skip that.”
Scarlett knew there was nothing between me and Damian, and she’d told me I didn’t have to come if it would make me uncomfortable. But—
“You actually want me to come, don’t you?”
“…You’ve never missed my birthday before.”
Right. How could I possibly skip the birthday of the friend who’d stayed by my side through everything—
even when I was branded a villainess, even when I made a fool of myself over Polius?
“Besides, she’s the one who told me, in her letter, just how badly Polius embarrassed himself at the last ball.”
I remembered Scarlett’s warning about one of her potential guests.
“The Ingda family happened to visit near our estate. I can’t exactly pretend not to notice the neighbors, so I’ve invited them too.”
If there was anyone from House Ingda who’d be invited, there was only one possibility—Lady Josephine Ingda.
“You two aren’t particularly close, right?”
“No. We’ve hardly ever spoken, honestly. She might not even show up, but… just in case—you remember she had that scandal with Polius, right?”
It hadn’t just been a scandal. They’d shared a bed.
“I know she looked right at me that time—and smiled.”
The other women Polius toyed with only showed mild jealousy toward me as his fiancée.
But Josephine Ingda had openly picked fights with me.
I couldn’t prove it, but I was sure she was behind the ugly rumors that spread about me being a ‘villainess.’
All the ladies who especially hated me just happened to be close to her.
“It’s not mere jealousy—there’s real malice there.”
House Ingda had always harbored a rivalry against House Clotilde.
In the novel’s future, that rivalry nearly turned into a full-blown territorial war.
After I died and Father fell into despair, our family lost its heir, and House Ingda tried to seize that chance to swallow up our lands.
They used their dominance in high society to craft a ‘righteous’ excuse for it—but their methods were disgusting.
The marquis himself had long felt inferior to my father’s ducal house, and he and his daughter made quite the poisonous pair.
“Of course, I’m not going to let things unfold that way this time. But still… it’s a birthday party. I’d rather not stir up trouble. Let’s just have a good day.”
“Melanie! You’re here!”
“Happy birthday, Scarlett. I put a lot of thought into this gift.”
Scarlett lifted the box and weighed it, breaking into a bright grin at its heaviness.
“Wow, our Lady Clotilde really went all out this time! Feeling confident, huh?”
The garden party was splendid yet elegant, clearly prepared with great care.
When I arrived, the ladies already there turned toward me with sparkling eyes.
“Oh my, Lady Clotilde has come!”
“I expected as much, since she’s so close with Lady Scarlett.”
As expected. After I’d turned down every other invitation, they must’ve been dying to see me.
“Thank you all for such a warm welcome.”
I smiled gracefully and took my seat. The flowers on the table gave off a soft, sweet scent.
“These roses—they’re the same as the ones in your garden, right?”
One of the ladies, catching the detail, complimented Scarlett.
“Lady Scarlett, your estate’s garden is stunning. The roses, especially—just like your hair color.”
“Truly! A wonderful choice. Your gardener must be very skilled.”
As proper noble ladies, they didn’t immediately pry about Damian. That would’ve been rude at a birthday party.
The conversation revolved around Scarlett, the star of the day—until, after a while, a few of them began exchanging looks.
Then, softly, they brought it up.
“Lady Clotilde, you left early at the last ball, saying you weren’t feeling well. I was so disappointed we couldn’t talk more.”
“Yes, and Archmage Damian left with you, didn’t he? He was helping you out…”
And there it was—the real question.
“You look even more radiant lately. Could it be the power of love?”
“May we ask what kind of relationship you have with Young Lord Damian Beldeltert?”
I had expected this much. Harmless curiosity, really.
“Considering my reputation, I suppose that’s a bold question. They must be truly curious.”
I stayed silent, only smiling faintly, until Scarlett cut in.
“Hey, that’s not fair! It’s my birthday, but you’re all talking about Melanie!”
“Oh, my apologies! We didn’t mean—”
“Today’s about me! You’re making me jealous!”
The ladies quickly backed off. They might have been curious, but they weren’t impolite.
Since Scarlett had said that much, no one would press the topic again today.
“Thanks, Scarlett.”
I winked at her discreetly, and she lifted her shoulders proudly in return.
Yes—the other ladies weren’t the problem. The problem was…
“Is it really such a big secret that you can’t just answer?”
…her.
“Lady Ingda,” I said evenly.
I had expected this, so I didn’t flinch.
She’d been quiet for most of the party, which was odd for someone so used to attention.
“You’re not answering—does that mean there’s nothing between you and him after all?”
Josephine Ingda smiled radiantly, as if trying to hide the poison behind her words.
“You know how it looks. You were only his partner for one night. Talking about the Archmage too much might give people the wrong impression—I’d hate for anyone to think poorly of you.”
Of course, everyone knew she was the one thinking poorly.
Before I could answer rashly, Scarlett jumped in.
“Lady Ingda, don’t you think that’s—”
“Oh, it’s not meddling. I’m simply… engaged to Polius soon. Damian is his brother, so naturally, I’d be concerned. Don’t you agree?”
The lively chatter froze. The festive air vanished in an instant.
Even I felt my temper flare.
“So she really came here intending to ruin Scarlett’s birthday.”
Exactly what I’d feared—a love triangle spat centered around Polius.
Scarlett looked worriedly at me. She knew how much I’d once loved that man, and must’ve been afraid I’d falter.
But I didn’t waver in the slightest.
“Take him. He’s all yours. I wouldn’t touch that fool again if you paid me.”
Suppressing a laugh, I spoke calmly.
“Though we’re no longer together, I sincerely wish Lord Polius happiness.
If you’re engaged to him, that’s truly something to celebrate.”
I laid the groundwork first—showing that I wasn’t offended in the slightest. Then, tilting my head curiously, I added:
“But that’s strange… because that’s not what I heard.”
“Not what you heard? What do you mean? You’re not saying that out of jealousy, are you?”
Lady Ingda was the center of her social circle—a formidable opponent.
In this setup, the odds were in her favor. One wrong word from me, and I’d look like the ex-fiancée still obsessed with her former lover.
But I wasn’t foolish. I’d prepared for this.
“Oh, no offense meant,” I said lightly. “I only mentioned what someone else told me.”
“Someone else?”
Before the party, I had met that “someone.” My champion for the day.
“Lady Clara Martis,” I replied with a serene smile.
My eyes narrowed with satisfaction—the smile of a victor.
