Chapter 50
“It is my fault for being late to the imperial event. I apologize.”
I held my skirt with both hands and bent my knees. Perhaps because my reaction was different from what she had expected, the First Empress Consort’s lips stiffened ever so slightly. I gave her a radiant smile.
Regret was best kept short. If this seat felt uncomfortable, then all I needed to do was turn it into my own domain.
“Next time, I will make sure to arrive earlier, Your Majesty the Empress.”
“Yes. It would be best if you arrive earlier next time, Lady.”
The Empress gave me an awkward smile. No one knew better than her that the seating had not been assigned in order of arrival, and yet she still couldn’t bring herself to meet my eyes.
I gave her a slight bow, then slowly walked toward the lowest seat. Behind me, there was a noisy burst of snickers. I sat down with perfect posture.
“You looked uncomfortable standing, but now you seem perfectly at ease, Lady Elliant.”
“Indeed. That seat must be a perfect fit for you. Hohoho.”
Several women, led by the First Prince’s consort, showed blatant hostility toward me. They seemed to be sycophants clinging to her. Pretending not to hear their remarks, I turned instead to the woman seated next to me.
“Hello.”
“H-hello.”
She looked utterly startled, her round eyes widening as if she had never expected me to speak to her. I gave her a soft smile.
“This is my first time at such an occasion. Please look after me.”
“M-me as well…”
She blushed deeply, bowing her head until even her ears turned crimson. As I thought, she wasn’t used to gatherings like this.
Sitting at the far end—or near it—not only signified low rank but also a lack of influence in society. In other words, she was a novice in the social scene.
What was surprising, however, was that this occasion was the Imperial Hunting Tournament. Attendance was restricted to only the high nobility and those invited by the imperial family. It was rare to see someone so naïve in such a place.
“May I ask your name? I am Byonne Rossa Elliant.”
“I—I’m Revina Izl Asteia, Lady.”
She whispered so quietly that even sitting beside her, I could barely hear it. She must have been either extremely timid or terribly shy.
The moment I heard her name, I immediately understood why she was here.
The Asteia viscountcy was the maternal family of the Second Prince—who was infamous as an eccentric obsessed with alchemy. He had fled the palace the very moment he came of age.
Unlike princesses, who could only leave the palace once married, princes were free to choose their own residence after their coming-of-age.
Still, unless unusual circumstances arose, it was customary for princes to remain in the palace until marriage.
Though it wasn’t a codified law, most princes stayed in the palace until marriage, at which point they received a title and moved out. It was exceedingly rare for a married prince to remain in the palace.
At present, the only married prince still living in the imperial palace was the First Prince—an almost blatant declaration of his ambition for the throne.
There was only one legitimate way to force him out of the palace without his consent: for someone other than the First Prince to ascend the throne as heir apparent or emperor.
When a new emperor rose, his brothers, regardless of marital status, were required to leave the palace as long as they had come of age. Even an underage prince had to depart upon turning sixteen. It was almost unheard of for someone like the Second Prince to leave voluntarily upon his coming-of-age, without a change in emperor.
Unlike princesses, who ceased to be considered imperial family upon marriage, princes remained members of the imperial family even after marriage. Their consorts were also granted recognition as imperial members—though their children could not inherit imperial status.
Thus, even after leaving the palace, the Second Prince was still part of the imperial family. It was only natural that his maternal relative, the young lady of Asteia, would be present here.
“So, you are Lady of House Asteia. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Byonne.”
Revina’s eyes widened to their limit. She clearly hadn’t expected me to ask her to use my name. In social etiquette, such a request was equivalent to an offer of friendship.
The First Empress Consort had already regarded me as an enemy for some time. After two encounters, that hostility had only deepened. Though I disliked troublesome matters, I had no intention of quietly enduring her provocations.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If they threw childish jabs, I would return them in kind.
It wouldn’t be easy to carve out territory here, under the First Empress Consort’s control. The noble faction—and likely most of the major social figures—were already allied closely with her.
If the inner walls were too thick to breach, then I would start chipping away at the outer ones. And if the first crack came in the form of the innocent-looking Lady of Asteia, then so be it.
“Would it be all right if I called you by your name?”
“Of course!”
She answered so loudly, almost shouting, that she startled herself and quickly clapped both hands over her mouth. She must have feared that if she hesitated, I would withdraw the offer.
“Fufu, how cute, Revina.”
“Are you ignoring me, Lady Elliant?!”
The consort of the First Prince, who had only just begun to taste the sweetness of power, could not tolerate being disregarded. I deliberately acted as though she didn’t exist, focusing entirely on Revina. Unable to endure it any longer, she snapped shrilly. Her patience had clearly run out.
I covered my mouth with my fan and looked at her. She glared at me, fuming. Tilting my head with a feigned innocent expression, I asked,
“Did you say something to me?”
“Lady, you must be hard of hearing.”
“How rude.”
I frowned as if offended. Seeing this, she smirked triumphantly.
“If you weren’t deaf, you couldn’t possibly have missed my words.”
“I did not realize you were addressing me. In a gathering such as this, it is basic courtesy to clearly indicate whom you are speaking to. That is proper etiquette.”
Her face crumpled instantly. I turned my gaze away from her and toward an elderly noblewoman seated near the head of the table.
She looked to be in her early to mid-sixties and seemed to be watching my clash with the consort with keen amusement. When our eyes met, I curved my lips into a deep smile.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Countess Rustin?”
House Rustin was one of the heavyweights among the neutral faction. Their domain was a strategic hub linking the north to the capital, and the family had accumulated wealth through generations of trade.
But what House Rustin was most famous for wasn’t its land or fortune—it was the Countess herself.
Countess Rustin was renowned as the epitome of a noblewoman, famed for her impeccable manners. She was so respected that even princesses of the empire received etiquette lessons from her.
For young noblewomen debuting in society, she was the most coveted chaperone. Having her as one’s chaperone was proof that one’s manners met her exacting standards—a veritable certificate of refinement.
Though not quite on the level of the First Empress Consort, the Countess wielded considerable influence in high society. The reason I deliberately brought her into this conversation under the pretext of etiquette was to leverage that influence.
To shake the First Empress Consort’s dominance over society, the fastest strategy was to strike both externally and internally at once. Revina was the first step on the outside; Countess Rustin would be my first target on the inside.
Above all, House Rustin was neutral. Unlike my own Elliant family, which had shifted to the Crown Prince’s faction upon my engagement, Rustin had yet to commit to any side.
The Crown Prince’s allies would naturally rally around me whether I asked or not. If I was going to expend effort to win support, it would be far better spent drawing in the neutral faction.
Even at my sudden address, the Countess showed no surprise. It was as if she had anticipated it. All eyes turned to her and me.
“I have heard that you, Countess Rustin, are a model of etiquette, an inspiration to noblewomen throughout the empire. Would you share your wisdom to confirm whether what I’ve said is true?”
The Countess did not reply immediately. She simply observed me in silence, her face revealing nothing.
As the silence stretched, the once-quiet hall began to buzz. From where the consort sat, derisive laughter and mocking voices drifted toward me.
“Hmph, she acted so high and mighty, but now look at her.”
“Indeed. Who does she think she is, lecturing others when she’s barely entered society herself?”
They pretended to converse among themselves, but there was no one in the room who couldn’t hear their barbs.
“Countess Rustin must find her ridiculous too, if she won’t even bother answering.”
“If it were me, I’d be too embarrassed to stay seated after that. Truly shameless.”
“She pranced about without knowing her place, and now she’s getting what she deserves. Hohoho.”
As time passed, their ridicule grew more brazen. But I had already anticipated as much. There was no need to be shaken by what I expected.
I kept my smile, sitting upright and steady, my gaze fixed firmly on the Countess. Her eyes narrowed, assessing me like a judge weighing my worth.
I could have pressed her for an answer, but I did not. What I was waiting for wasn’t merely a reply about etiquette. The Countess understood my intent—and that was why she lingered in silence.
