CHAPTER 60…………….
Most of the information about what Hylia was doing had fallen into Evangeline’s hands.
Of course, those were the very things Hylia had judged safe to let Evangeline obtain.
As she gathered and checked the reports, Evangeline tilted her head slightly.
“Buying up all these supplies for the banquet was expected. But… this is far more than I thought.”
A rather handsome man seated across from her let out a sly laugh before speaking.
His light-brown hair swayed at his shoulders, and his bluish-gray eyes glittered behind a monocle.
“Well, she’s never once hosted a proper banquet. Naturally, she’s nothing like you, Lady Evangeline.”
This man was Wilhelm Filermo, publisher of Epistola, the gossip gazette sweeping through the capital’s salons.
It had begun as a salon pamphlet, but he was the one who later developed it into a full-fledged newspaper.
Naturally, Evangeline—armed with knowledge of the future—had picked up this debt-ridden man, and in just a year she had brought him this far.
As a result, every major salon in the central capital now scrambled to subscribe to his gazette and contribute articles to it.
Though of course, no one knew about my relationship with Wilhelm.
Evangeline’s grip on high society was strengthened all the more through Wilhelm’s publication.
What’s more, his gazette didn’t just influence nobles.
Wealthy commoners who admired the nobility also bought it, and within a few days the stories spread down into the crowded city markets.
In other words, she had the press completely under her control.
Evangeline looked at Wilhelm with a satisfied smile.
He was one of the “characters” she had wrested away by altering the original story.
A trophy, in other words.
Until recently, her greatest prize had been Ludwig, the male lead.
But not anymore.
That drunken piece of trash is worthless now—male lead or not. Except in one regard…
Wilhelm, by contrast, was still useful.
He had the looks, he had the talent.
And above all, he worshipped Evangeline like a goddess.
Quite unlike the original.
In the original, countless brilliant men had, by fate or coincidence, devoted themselves to the heroine.
But now, they belonged to Evangeline.
Wilhelm was a prime example.
Smiling gently, she reached out her hand.
“You’re the only one I rely on, Wilhelm.”
His eyes gleamed.
“I’ll give you my very best, my lady.”
He kissed the back of her hand again and again, passionately.
Since Ludwig’s downfall, the men around Evangeline had dared to hope again.
She gave them far more room than before—just enough to tempt them into thinking that, if they served her with all they had, they might one day become her only man.
Sensing his eagerness, Evangeline smiled faintly.
But she did not entirely set aside her doubts.
“She’s buying up every sort of regional specialty. Rock salt and boiled salt from the east, massive quantities of wheat and butter, lard and sugar from the south. Alcohol from everywhere, of course, along with livestock, poultry, seafood. From the west, barley and turnips…”
Indeed, a grand banquet on that scale required a staggering amount of goods.
“Transportation ships are moving in huge numbers. Nearly twice the usual volume. Most of the goods are said to be heading to the Crown Prince’s palace.”
Wilhelm seized the chance to mock Hylia.
“What kind of banquet uses things like barley and turnips? Fine, I can understand oil, wheat, sugar—but turnips?”
“Who knows…”
“In any case, the whole capital is bustling because of it. The Crown Prince’s palace has poured a lot of money into the city.”
“That’s true. And on the very same day, there’s also going to be Madam Quinibel’s ball at the Empress’s palace.”
“So among the merchants and even some commoners, Lady Delphine is surprisingly not viewed so badly. …At least she’s spending money.”
“Of course those pigheaded rabble wouldn’t know better. Still, it’s irritating.”
Naturally—it was thanks to Hylia that the capital’s merchants were thriving.
Seeing Evangeline’s displeasure, Wilhelm quickly tried to soothe her.
“In the end, though, the Artanus Hall will be practically empty. And all those goods she bought will end up wasted.”
“Yes. That’s how it’ll be. No—that’s how we’ll make it.”
After a brief thought, Evangeline snapped her fingers.
“Oh! What if a rumor spread like this? That Hylia Delphine told a starving beggar, ‘If you’re hungry, why not eat cake?’”
Wilhelm’s eyes flashed sharply.
“Brilliant.”
Wilhelm’s gazette was always filled with both articles and illustrations.
Even illiterate commoners bought it for the drawings and satirical cartoons.
He immediately began jotting down how the illustration should look.
“Picture her tossing aside extravagant banquet food with a haughty expression, telling a beggar just that.”
“Yes! That’s perfect!”
The ignorant masses wouldn’t care whether Hylia had truly said it. They would see that single drawing in print and accept it as fact.
“As expected of you, Lady Evangeline. Your ideas are genius.”
Evangeline chuckled darkly.
It’s only something I borrowed from my Earth memories. Still, here, I’m the first one to come up with it. That’s what matters.
Ruining the Artanus Hall banquet and humiliating her with a dress wasn’t enough.
Even the commoners must spit on her and despise her.
Wilhelm drew out a sheet of paper.
“And with the front-page article we’ve prepared for the day of the banquet, Lady Delphine’s downfall is assured!”
It was a draft for the gazette scheduled three days later.
On it were two ladies.
Hylia, ridiculed and ridiculous for trying to copy someone’s beauty and failing miserably.
And Evangeline, shining with poise even before her.
Evangeline looked at it and beamed.
“Yes. That’s exactly how it will be.”
Just like in that illustration.
She was certain. Everything was prepared to perfection.
I let out a long sigh, stretching my weary body across the bench, exhausted from all the tension.
“Ugh, pretending to be a clueless fool is harder than I thought.”
Before me stood the dress on display, placed on a torso by Madam Filleren and the Kemmel atelier staff earlier.
Annie, who had stayed silent through the fitting, frowned at it now.
“This really doesn’t suit you at all, Your Highness. The color clashes with your skin and hair.”
And yet Madam Filleren and the atelier staff had praised it to the skies, desperate to make sure I chose and wore it.
I gave a bitter smile.
“Of course. It was tailored to suit Evangeline.”
It was obvious—it was deliberately made to be of lower quality and far less glamorous than Evangeline’s own gown.
Her plan was transparent.
On the banquet day, she’ll show up in a similar dress—only far prettier and more luxurious—to humiliate me.
Hadn’t she already tried something similar with my wedding?
She had chosen my wedding dress herself.
And even before my regression, she had repeatedly shown up at key events in nearly identical dresses, making me the laughingstock.
“Oh my, no matter how much you envy the belle of society, if you’re going to imitate, at least do it properly!”
Annie clicked her tongue at the gown born of Evangeline’s scheming.
“Seeing it like this… there’s really no comparison.”
I smirked.
“Exactly.”
I knew well what Annie was comparing it to.
Lady Josephine Solenne—no, Rita Morgan…
No, that’s wrong. Now she’s Frida Wes. A true genius.
Frida Wes was the pseudonym I had given Josephine.
Not long ago, she had opened a stunning boutique among the capital’s finest ateliers.
For now, she hadn’t accepted clients or displayed sample dresses.
Because the first unveiling of Designer Frida Wes—and the atelier’s debut gown—would be at the Artanus Hall banquet.
“The dress I’ll be wearing is beyond comparison.”
Annie’s face lit up, her cheeks flushed.
“Yes. It’s truly a dreamlike gown. Everyone at the banquet will be struck by Your Highness’s beauty!”
We shared a smile.
Today was the final fitting before the banquet.
On the day itself, the Crown Prince’s palace staff and Josephine herself would dress me.
Neither Madam Filleren nor the Kemmel staff would be allowed inside.
Not that Madam Filleren will come—she’ll be busy fawning over Evangeline…
In any case, that meant…
“There’s no reason to keep this shabby gown anymore.”
Annie’s eyes sparkled, as though waiting for me to say so.
“Then what should we do with it?”
Honestly, I wanted to burn it or tear it to pieces like my wedding dress.
But that seemed wasteful.
The dress itself had done no wrong.
As I hesitated, Annie leaned close to whisper.
“…What about this idea?”
I blinked in surprise. Annie, coming up with such a scheme?
“Do you know how furious I’ve been, watching Lady Ruth’s faction torment you all this time?”
Her small shoulders trembled with anger.
“This will humiliate her even more. Please allow it, Your Highness!”
“Annie… but if Evangeline’s wrath turns on you…”
Annie only gave me a radiant smile, filled with unshakable faith.
“I’m not worried. You’ll protect me, won’t you, Your Highness?”
“…”
I was at a loss for words.
But her anger and courage moved me.
Things were different now than before my regression. She would not be sacrificed in vain again.
I would protect her, no matter what.
I nodded.
After I whispered a few more instructions, Annie’s eyes widened.
“…We can really do that?”
“Yes. And don’t worry. We won’t use it as-is. I’ll make it far more beautiful.”
That very evening, Josephine would be arriving secretly.
Along with the finest seamstresses I had gathered.
Just then, a servant delivered a small note—intelligence from the Black Mercenary Corps.
The contents were simple:
“The shipment of barley and turnips has been completed.”
Excellent news. With this, everything was ready.
The banquet is only three days away…
When the time came, all that I had prepared would finally be revealed.
And then everyone would know—
Who the real protagonist is.
I could hardly wait for the banquet day to arrive.
