Chapter 11.
Leticia, who had successfully changed the outcome of an incident that had relentlessly tormented her in her previous life, was now sitting beneath a tree at the edge of the garden where the children had gathered.
The tree cast a gentle shade.
Having brought the chair herself to create a little corner of her own, Leticia quietly observed the groups of children laughing and chatting in the sunlight, their foreheads glistening with beads of sweat.
“His Highness the Crown Prince…”
“Lady Wagner…”
Those invited to today’s garden party—young heirs and heiresses of powerful families—had naturally split into two camps.
The boys gathered around the Crown Prince, Genio, and the girls surrounded Lady Serpina Wagner.
Though the distance made it hard to hear what they were saying, Leticia could easily see how the children strained to please either the prince or Lady Wagner.
“They’re working hard for it,” she murmured.
She picked up a macaron from the lavish selection of confections crafted by the royal pâtissier and took a bite.
Crunch. The delicate shell crumbled softly, releasing the rich sweetness of vanilla cream and a faint tang of fruit jam that filled her mouth.
After savoring it for a moment, Leticia tilted her head.
“It’s good, but…”
Of course it was. Anyone skilled enough to serve in the royal kitchen would make excellent pastries.
“But the ones Father buys taste better.”
For some reason, the desserts her father, Raoul, brought back from his errands always seemed far more delicious.
She popped the rest of the macaron into her mouth and idly swung her short legs that didn’t quite reach the ground.
Maybe I’ll ask Father to buy some sweets again on the way home.
Perhaps they could even eat at the shop this time. That would be nice too.
But after a moment of thought, Leticia shook her head.
“No… then the people at the estate wouldn’t get any.”
We’ll just bring them back.
Recalling how the servants had reacted to her last outing with Raoul—and what Hagen and Asha had told her afterward—Leticia reached her conclusion.
She wanted the dull party to end soon.
Though she sat apart from everyone else, she didn’t feel particularly lonely.
“It looks harder trying to fit in than staying out here.”
After all, none of those children would truly want to be her friend. If they ever approached her, it would only be because she was the daughter of a duke.
“Still… I would like to make a friend someday.”
Whispering that small wish, Leticia reached for another dessert—only to freeze mid-motion.
Her gaze fixed on something beyond the crowd.
Among the girls gathered around Serpina stood one who kept her head bowed, staring at the ground.
Her short, pale-blonde hair hung like a curtain, hiding her face—but Leticia had memorized every guest’s name and appearance. She instantly recognized the girl.
“Ferdia Trevis…”
The daughter of Count Trevis.
In her previous life, Ferdia had never spoken to her—always shy, quiet, and often standing alone, just like Leticia was now.
Then, one of the girls said something to her. Ferdia hesitated, took a step—
—and another girl stuck her foot out in her path.
“Ah—!”
Thud!
A startled gasp escaped Leticia as Ferdia tumbled to the ground with a dull sound that drew everyone’s attention.
Though the grass softened the fall, it was far from gentle. Her small shoulders trembled as she tried to lift herself up.
Laughter drifted across the garden, light and cruel.
‘Lady Kafka, you’re nothing like your father, are you?’
‘They say your mother’s identity is still a mystery. Care to enlighten us?’
Though she was far away now, Leticia remembered all too well the mocking voices.
Back then, she had been the one surrounded by those smiling faces, the one hearing those pretty words filled with poison.
And so a cold realization struck her:
Had her changed actions redirected their cruelty toward someone else?
“……”
What could she even do?
If she stepped in, she might only make it worse. The taunts would turn on her again, just like before.
Still, she bit her lip hard, rose from her seat, and began walking toward the center of the garden.
‘An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Remember that well.’
‘Then… do your best out there.’
“An eye for an eye,” she whispered.
Even if these girls had never wronged her in this life, they had proven with their actions that they were no different than before.
She took another step forward.
“Lady Trevis, are you all right?”
As she drew closer, the conversation reached her ears.
Serpina’s soft, pitying voice floated through the air.
‘Mind your words, everyone. Lady Kafka, are you unharmed?’
The echo of a voice from her past overlapped the one before her.
“You should watch where you’re walking, Lady Trevis. To trip over nothing—perhaps you ought to relearn a noblewoman’s poise.”
A voice feigning concern, but laced with scorn.
‘If you weren’t ready, Lady Kafka, you could have told your father. Perhaps you should hire a tutor in etiquette? I could recommend one for you.’
Yes—she remembered that voice well. Lady Serpina Wagner.
“I-I… another lady stuck out her foot, and I tried to avoid it, but—”
“Oh, really?”
Serpina looked around with mock surprise.
“Did any of you trip Lady Trevis? I didn’t see it.”
“No, my lady! She just fell on her own.”
“Yes, that’s what I saw too.”
Their answers came perfectly in sync.
“Lady Trevis, it isn’t right to accuse others falsely. So perhaps—”
“I saw it.”
The calm voice that cut through hers silenced the circle.
Leticia had arrived.
The young ladies, startled, turned to her as if only now realizing she was standing among them.
“Even if you’re Lady Kafka, interrupting someone is hardly proper, don’t you think? Or… did you not know?”
Serpina’s violet eyes met Leticia’s crimson ones.
“Oh, I know,” Leticia said evenly. “But if what’s being said is a lie, that’s a different matter entirely.”
“Are you saying I lied?”
“Yes. As everyone knows, I was sitting under that tree over there—where I could see everything.”
Her tone was polite, calm, but steady.
“From there, I clearly saw Lady Trevis move… and Lady Cyril extend her foot.”
Leticia turned her gaze toward one girl.
At once, Camilla Cyril, the daughter of Marquis Cyril, flinched as if pricked by a needle.
“M-me?” she stammered.
“How strange,” Serpina replied smoothly. “Lady Cyril was standing right beside me, and I didn’t see her move at all.”
She smiled, voice as sweet as honey.
“You were far away, Lady Kafka. Everyone here saw nothing—but you claim otherwise? That would mean all of us are lying.”
Her words were artfully spun: a warning wrapped in politeness.
But Leticia didn’t yield.
“I didn’t mistake what I saw. Lady Cyril, did you truly not trip Lady Trevis?”
Caught between the two most powerful young women in the garden, Camilla froze.
If she told the truth, she would offend Serpina. If she lied, she would defy a duke’s daughter.
It was, without question, the worst moment of her eleven-year life.
And before she could answer—
“What’s going on here?”
A clear young voice interrupted them.
‘There’s still time…’
The Crown Prince, Genio, had arrived.
And as his gaze swept across the frozen circle of girls, Leticia quietly sighed to herself.
This just became complicated.
