“Lady Rosettine, would you care to visit our estate as well?”
At Estelline’s gentle voice, Rosettine, who had been sipping her tea, suddenly looked up.
I watched the two with interest.
“M-me?”
“Yes! It’s a little embarrassing to say, but our estate’s patissier is actually quite famous. Especially for baking delicious cakes.”
I glanced over at Rosettine.
Before I collapsed, I often had dessert time with Rosettine and Martina in the mansion’s library.
And judging from those experiences, Rosettine was very fond of cake.
Sure enough, her ears turned red as she tried to hide her face behind her teacup.
“Well, I mean, if you’re going to put it like that…”
I stifled a laugh at the sight.
‘She’s weak to people who are nice to her.’
It was probably because she’d grown up with emotionally distant parents.
I glanced sideways at Meg, who had just been hurling cutting remarks at Rosettine.
She was already mingling with another group, fully immersed in conversation.
I found myself muttering as I watched her shrug her shoulders with that smug expression.
“…Making a big deal out of nothing.”
At that, both Estelline and Rosettine turned their eyes to me.
“M-making a big deal out of… what?”
I shook my head and replied.
“I just mean, she’s picking a fight for no reason. People make mistakes sometimes. No need to—”
I furrowed my brow, annoyed, and the conversation across from me fell silent.
When I looked up, Estelline was staring at me intently.
“My lady…”
Estelline called to me with a serious voice.
Wondering what was wrong, I widened my eyes.
“You’re just… so cool…!”
“…?”
I frowned in confusion. Estelline looked like she was on the verge of tears, for some reason.
Then Rosettine, who had been nodding beside her, spoke up.
“I agree. She’s kind of annoying, but Selenea is definitely bold, I’ll give her that.”
Just as I turned to look at her in surprise—
“R-right! Lady Rosettine, I was thinking the exact same thing!”
“Ah, so you feel the same, Lady Estelline?”
Estelline beamed and nodded vigorously.
“Of course! I’m the type to keep things to myself, even when I want to speak up. But Lady Selenea always—”
“—Says exactly what she thinks?”
“Yes! That’s it exactly.”
I blinked as I looked at the two of them, who were now chatting excitedly.
‘What’s with these two all of a sudden?’
Then Estelline added quietly,
“Also, you’re just so beautiful, my lady.”
Blushing shyly, she looked down while Rosettine quickly nodded in agreement.
“True. You’re certainly easy on the eyes. But what I really like is how clever you are, Selenea.”
I frowned, not quite believing my ears.
‘What kind of conversation are they having right in front of me?’
Why were they talking like they adored me?
It’s not like I had done anything, yet they were giving me such high praise.
But as I mulled it over, I thought to myself:
‘…Not a bad thing, really.’
Come to think of it, this was a lot better than being hated for no reason like in my past life.
And it was better to have people around than to be all alone.
In the first place, I had accepted the invitation to this party in order to build connections.
‘But the host of this party…’
Before coming to the party, I had thoroughly studied the enormous amount of personal data Walter had gathered for me.
The unofficial princess of the Empire.
That’s what people called Meg Klein, the host.
That explained how she could humiliate others so easily.
Everything in her life must have gone her way from a very young age.
After all, she was the granddaughter of Duke Belmart and the niece of the Empress—quite the pedigree.
I suddenly turned to Estelline and asked:
“Estelline. About that charity event during the Thanksgiving Festival—was Meg the winner?”
Estelline, who had been absorbed in conversation with Rosettine, nodded.
“Yes. Last year, Lady Meg won. The year before that, I did. But if Lady Meg hadn’t been away in another country, I probably wouldn’t have won.”
I stroked my chin thoughtfully and nodded. Rosettine asked,
“Charity event?”
Estelline smiled kindly and explained.
“Ah, the charity event is the highlight of the Thanksgiving Festival…”
As I listened, I turned my gaze back toward Meg.
Her profile, partially visible, was once again brimming with arrogance.
She must already be preparing something grand to submit for the event.
But I smiled confidently and thought to myself:
‘This time, you’re not going to win.’
Because this year, Tigris will take over everything.
I planned to use this Thanksgiving Festival to showcase Tigris’s power and prestige.
‘Whether it’s the temple, the royal family, or these lowly nobles… they need to learn their place.’
They had to know never to mess with Tigris, even as a joke.
There was no guarantee we wouldn’t face another threat like Meyer again.
‘Long life! A peaceful future! I will protect it.’
Firming my resolve once more, I chugged the now-cold tea.
Royal Palace – Privy Council Chamber
The youngest chairperson in Privy Council history, Nikola Zervero, swiftly skimmed through the documents before him.
But his quill, which had been racing smoothly across the parchment, suddenly came to a stop.
“Who submitted this report?”
One of the members seated around the table cautiously raised a hand.
“I did, Lord Zervero.”
The person was an elderly gentleman.
Nikola turned his gaze toward him, then muttered coldly,
“Wasting your time again, Tibon.”
Oscar Tibon’s face hardened briefly, but he answered calmly.
“We’ve received continuous petitions from the northern slums of the capital. I didn’t think it right to ignore them any longer—”
“Petitions? About what?”
“They claim the relief supplies being sent are grossly insufficient. And in terms of quality—”
But Oscar Tibon trailed off.
Nikola Zervero clicked his tongue loudly in annoyance, clearly uninterested.
“This is why commoners are so troublesome.”
His voice, laced with disdain, echoed through the chamber.
“Utterly ignorant, cockroach-like creatures, aren’t they?”
Nikola glanced around the room as if seeking agreement.
“Y-yes. Utterly ignorant, indeed.”
“R-right. Our imperial family has sent them aid for years, and they don’t even show a hint of gratitude…”
Nikola nodded in approval and sneered.
“Exactly. All they ever do is beg, yet now they act like it’s their right to demand things!”
He continued coldly.
“If they hate their gutter lives so much, why not try working? But no, their lazy natures have them living like stray dogs.”
Oscar Tibon’s face grew grim at the open contempt.
After some hesitation, he spoke again.
“…Chairman. The people living in the northern slums were forcibly relocated there a century ago.”
Nikola’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Oscar, but Oscar stood firm.
“They lost their homes overnight because of noble greed. And yet, the emperor at the time did nothing.”
“So what exactly are you trying to say?”
“That it’s not just their own incompetence. The imperial family and the government are responsible for their situation.”
“Excuse me?”
“They didn’t end up there purely out of laziness.”
The chamber fell into a heavy silence.
After a long pause—
“Ha, haha!”
Nikola Zervero suddenly burst into laughter, drawing everyone’s eyes.
“And that’s why we send them aid every year!”
He wiped tears of amusement from his eyes as he stared at Oscar mockingly.
“You always overreact to the smallest things. That’s why you’re still stuck at your position at your age.”
With that cutting remark, Nikola smiled and looked back down at the papers.
Everyone else in the room cast awkward glances toward Oscar.
He sat rigid, staring down at the round table.
Once, Oscar Tibon had been the most likely successor to the chairmanship before Nikola came along.
Now, he was just a stepping stone—regularly humiliated and ignored.
The truth, however, was that everyone knew Oscar was right.
The ledgers tracking relief supplies to the northern slums hadn’t been properly maintained for years.
The same went for the annual budget from the treasury to the Privy Council during festival season.
‘The money’s leaking.’
It was obvious.
But no one dared speak up.
Nikola Zervero, the one overseeing the ledgers and making final decisions, was deeply trusted by the emperor.
Worse, he was young and cunning.
Raising any objection could cost you dearly.
**”…Don’t be too disheartened
