Chapter 39
Liette glared at the paper in front of her as if it were her parents’ mortal enemy.
Then, she slowly reached out, picked it up, and scanned it closely.
The numbers on a report card should only be made up of ones and zeros—so why were there eights and nines mixed in…?
Thud! Liette slammed the paper back onto the table, then clutched her head.
I’m doomed.
Her scores for outdoor activities were all perfect. But in the academic test results, there was one in the 80s and one in the 90s.
Naturally, her ranking plummeted—she had dropped all the way to 5th place.
The lack of textbooks had finally taken its toll. She’d braced herself for the result to some extent, but facing it in reality was a shock. Under the report card, the rankings up to 10th place were kindly listed.
1st place, Evan Croyt.
2nd place, Lucas Holton.
It was expected that Evan would be first, and Lucas, who had consistently been in 3rd place but dropped to 2nd after she herself fell, had risen to 2nd.
3rd place, Henry Leris.
That bastard. Liette’s mouth filled with curses. He had actually made it into the top three. Seeing this, she was now certain he was the one who had thrown her book into the fountain. Gritting her teeth, she lowered her gaze.
4th place, Samuel Plum.
Samuel, who had supposedly given up competing for the top spots, was now in 4th place…
Liette fully realized just how far she had fallen. The report card crumpled weakly in her grip.
She balled it up completely and tossed it into the trash.
Chirp, chirp—
The cicadas outside were noisily crying, oblivious to her mood. The sunlight was annoyingly bright.
After the exams, the school granted a short vacation. That’s why Liette was at the ducal estate in the middle of the day.
How many tests are left?
She folded her fingers one by one.
Out of twelve total exams, half are over… so… six left.
If she got perfect scores on the remaining six tests, she could probably reach 3rd place, if not 2nd.
Third place…?
She had once reached 1st place—how could she settle for that now?!
Her eyes flashed with fury.
When she found her book in its miserable state at the fountain, cleaned up the scraps, and prepared for the test, she had been calm. But now that she saw the results, a dark urge welled up inside her.
Henry… Pierre…
She would have her bloody revenge when they met.
He had spread ridiculous rumors about her sabotaging competitors—well, now she’d show him what real sabotage looked like. You know those horror or thriller films where a protagonist, driven to the brink by rumors, turns to the dark side and delivers gruesome revenge?
As she was grinning to herself at the thought, a voice came from outside the door.
“Lady Liette, you have a visitor.”
At the maid’s words, Liette sat up from where she’d been slumped against the chair. Who could it be…? She wasn’t in the mood to see anyone.
After some thought, she called back,
“Can you just tell them I’m not here?”
“The visitor is Duke Croyt, my lady!”
Liette shot up from her seat. She and her uncle were clearly soul twins. After seeing her disastrous report card, she had wanted to vent to him—and here he was, as if he knew!
She flung the door open to find the maid looking startled.
“Where is he?”
“He’s in the drawing room.”
Liette hurried down the stairs. The Duke of Croyt, supposedly in the drawing room, was actually standing in the central hall.
“Uncle—uh, I mean, Duke Croyt!”
She quickly corrected herself mid-sentence. That term of endearment could only be used inside the Croyt estate; if her father or mother heard, they would surely scold her.
“Liette.”
The Duke greeted her with a warm smile. Liette beamed and ran to him, throwing her arms around him.
“It’s been so long!”
“You’ve grown into quite the young lady.”
“Oh, come on. How much could I have changed in just a few months?”
Her playful tone made the Duke smile fondly, like a father looking at his daughter.
As their brief exchange revealed, the Duke had been away for several months as an envoy to another country, leaving the ducal estate empty. That had been another reason for Liette’s low spirits.
The Duke was her emotional anchor—a pillar of support no matter the situation.
“It’s true. You’re sixteen this year, aren’t you?”
“That’s right…”
“In two years, you’ll have your debutante ball and officially be an adult.”
His words made Liette suddenly aware of her age. Sixteen here meant eighteen in Korean age, and in two years, she’d be twenty even by Korean count.
“Shall we go into the drawing room?”
The Duke ruffled her hair, and she nodded.
They settled onto the plush sofas. A maid approached.
“What would you like to drink?”
“A warm black tea for me, please.”
“I’ll have black tea too, but make it with loads of ice—my insides are boiling!”
The Duke chuckled at her order.
“I figured you’d be upset right now. That’s why I came straight here as soon as I arrived in the capital.”
Liette’s eyes widened.
“Really? You didn’t even see Evan first?”
“That indifferent boy probably doesn’t even know I’m back today.”
He said it lightly, without a hint of hurt. He knew well that his son simply wasn’t the attentive type. Liette had only asked out of formality anyway.
“Did you manage to accomplish anything as an envoy? You said you were going because of the spirit stones.”
“I wouldn’t say I came back empty-handed…”
The Duke fell quiet, as if recalling something.
“Uncle?”
“I met the Empire’s one and only spirit master—the one I told you about before. His name was… Ferrante, yes. I actually saw him in person.”
Liette remembered. He was famous for being the only spirit master in the Empire, and since the value of spirit stones had risen recently, he had been receiving great treatment.
“How was he?”
“Quite different from when I met him before—in attitude, in demeanor, everything.”
He stopped speaking until the maid, who brought their tea, had left the room. Then he pushed away his serious expression.
“It’s been so long since we met—enough of this stuffy talk.”
“That’s fine. I enjoy all your stories.”
“Haha, there’s no one like you, Liette. Well, let’s wet our throats first and then keep talking.”
Liette nodded, glancing at her cup. Unlike the Duke’s steaming tea, hers was beaded with cold droplets.
Just as she’d ordered, her cup was packed with ice. Probably no one else in the Empire drank tea like this.
Here, tea was traditionally served hot, but once Liette realized ice was plentiful in this world, she started adding it to her tea.
Her mother had been horrified the first time she saw it, so Liette didn’t drink it this way often. But on a day like this, when her insides were burning, hot tea might make her burst.
“Every time I see this, it still feels so unusual.”
“Uncle, it’s just unfamiliar because not many people drink it this way. Once you try it, you’ll like it. If I turn this into a business someday, it might be a huge hit.”
After sipping the chilled tea, Liette set her cup down.
“If I can’t become a noble council member, I’ll start an iced tea business instead.”
The Duke’s voice turned cautious.
“I heard… your grades dropped quite a bit.”
How did news travel so fast…? Did Evan send a smug letter to her uncle abroad?
She was curious, but knew he’d just laugh it off if she asked. So she admitted plainly,
“Yes. I dropped to fifth place this time.”
“Oh dear…”
The Duke sighed, holding his teacup.
“So for the remaining exams, you’ll have to score perfectly—no mistakes allowed.”
Easier said than done, and Liette knew it.
But she had to. Otherwise, her dreams of becoming a female duke and a noble council member—all her hard work—would crumble.
Seeing her look a little down, the Duke spoke again.
“There is one other way besides perfect scores.”
The hopeful words made her snap her head up, eyes lighting.
“What is it?!”
“The student president election.”
At those words, the spark returned to Liette’s gaze.
Right! How could I forget about that?
The student president election was an important school event, and like the dance party, it awarded bonus points to the winner.
She hadn’t paid it any mind before, confident in her test scores, but now it was the perfect opportunity.
“How many bonus points was it again?”
“If I recall, a hundred. That hasn’t changed, I think.”
Graduation rankings were determined by adding up all quarterly scores. A 100-point bonus from winning the election could easily push her back into the top three. And if she aced the remaining exams too, she could even surpass Evan for first place.
Her voice rose with excitement.
“So how does the election work exactly?”
“They choose in the third quarter of second year. The school will explain before the election, but the method is quite unique.”
Unique? Liette’s ears perked up.
“The principal gives a problem to solve.”
A problem? For an election? Her brow furrowed.
“Like what?”
“Usually, the principal presents a riddle in metaphorical form, and the candidates must find the object or person it refers to.”
Liette stroked her chin with a troubled look.
“That sounds hard.”
“As you said, the difficulty is usually so high that no one solves it.”
“So there’s no president that year?”
The Duke shook his head.
“In that case, they decide by a show-of-hands vote. In fact, that’s the norm—few manage to solve the problem.”
What a strange rule. If almost no one could solve it, why insist on that method? There had to be some deeper meaning.
Tock tock— Absorbed in thought, Liette tapped the table unconsciously. The answer was simple.
She just had to solve the principal’s problem. If she could do that…
I can recover my ranking with the bonus points, and even seize power as student president.
Her resolve hardened. She downed the now-lukewarm iced tea in one go.
Fine, let’s do this.
