Chapter 125: Unwelcome News
The Duchess of Lester hosted a modest social gathering to celebrate the Founding Festival, attended primarily by noblewomen who followed her lead. Among them were the Marchioness of White and her daughter, Nora.
The two families had grown somewhat distant after the scandal of Nora’s public confession, but they had recently reconciled, thanks to the mediation of the Grant Marquisate. Truth be told, Nora had little desire to attend, but her mother’s insistence and her father’s pressure left her no choice. Her role at this gathering was singular: to lay the groundwork for repairing her tarnished reputation, damaged by her pursuit of a married man.
To that end, her family and the Grant Marquisate had meticulously scripted her words and actions. Nora needed only to perform, like an actress reciting lines on a stage.
“For a long time, I’ve admired Sir Damian,” she began, addressing the crowd. “It was love at first sight, and I carried that unrequited love for nearly five years.”
Her candid admission caused a stir among the guests, who were already surprised to see the White family at the duchess’s event. “After Sir Damian’s marriage, I tried to move on, but it wasn’t easy. To my eyes, Lady Aracila didn’t seem particularly devoted to their marriage.”
Nora spoke calmly, her words flowing smoothly despite not being her own. Whether it was the lack of personal investment or the rehearsed nature of her speech, she remained unruffled by the crowd’s reactions. After subtly casting aspersions on Aracila, she let her eyes glisten with tears, adopting a contrite demeanor.
“Perhaps I was blinded by jealousy, seeing things in a distorted light,” she continued. “I was foolish. My insecurities led me to make poor choices. Now, I’m truly sorry to everyone.”
Right on cue, the Duchess of Lester stepped forward. Gone was the cold dismissal she’d once shown Nora; now, she patted the young woman’s shoulder with a gentle smile. “It’s understandable to falter in the heat of youth, Lady White,” she said warmly. “Who among us hasn’t made a mistake? Isn’t that right, everyone?”
The duchess’s followers were quick to agree. “The duchess is right,” one said. “Young people are full of passion and prone to missteps.”
“If she’s recognized her mistake and is repentant, that’s enough,” another chimed in. “As long as she doesn’t repeat it, what’s the harm?”
“Look at poor Lady White, so downcast,” a third added, her voice tinged with pity. “She didn’t actually have an affair. Is all this really necessary?”
The more astute guests picked up on the duchess’s intent and steered the mood accordingly. The Duchess of Lester wanted Nora to be met with sympathy, and so the crowd responded with magnanimity, embracing her lengthy expressions of remorse.
“Anyone who’s ever loved deeply can understand how Lady White must have felt,” one woman said.
“When I was young, I cried day and night over a boy who loved another girl,” another confessed. “I was so jealous.”
“Sir Damian’s marriage was awfully sudden, wasn’t it?” a third remarked. “Without any prior word of courtship, it’s no wonder moving on was hard. Feelings don’t just bend to our will.”
This was exactly the acceptance Nora had longed for during her time in seclusion. Her plan had been to return to society quietly and live an ordinary life. Yet, the orchestrated nature of this moment, driven by the Grant Marquisate, left her uneasy. This wasn’t how she’d wanted to be welcomed back.
At a loss for words and unable to respond appropriately, Nora faltered until her mother, the Marchioness of White, stepped in. “Thank you all for understanding my daughter,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I feared Nora’s heart had turned wicked, but your compassion puts a mother’s heart at ease…”
Overcome, the marchioness lowered her head, unable to continue. The guests comforted her, patting her shoulder or hand. No one in the room was bold enough to speak ill of the mother and daughter, who appeared to have suffered greatly.
Pity stirred in the onlookers’ hearts—exactly as the Duchess of Lester and the Marchioness of White had intended. Few emotions made people as forgiving as pity did.
Throughout the festival, Nora used this approach to sway public opinion. By the time the celebrations ended, she had seamlessly reentered society. Rumors of her genuine repentance spread, softening the public’s judgment. It was an outcome she should have welcomed, but her expression remained far from bright. Following someone else’s script and making veiled jabs at Aracila weighed heavily on her conscience.
“Mother, do we really have to do it this way?” Nora asked quietly, clutching her mother’s sleeve, unable to suppress the discomfort pricking at her. “Do I have to take revenge on Lady Aracila? I made a mistake, and there’s no need to drag things out further…”
The Marchioness of White’s eyes flared with indignation as she sharply struck Nora’s shoulder. “What nonsense are you spouting? Because of Lady Aracila, our family’s reputation has been dragged through the mud! Don’t you feel any anger or guilt over that?”
“I do feel sorry, but…” Nora began.
“Then shut your mouth and do as you’re told!” the marchioness snapped, clicking her tongue in frustration. “I raised you with such effort, and you can’t even do one thing right. How did I end up with such a dim-witted eldest daughter?”
Nora’s face fell, her confidence crumbling. Unfazed, the marchioness continued her tirade. “I didn’t raise you out of boredom, Nora White. You were born to serve and benefit this family! If you’re useless, at least listen to what you’re told. Is it so hard to follow orders?”
“…I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” Nora murmured.
“You’d better!” her mother retorted. “Don’t argue, and just do what I say from now on. The Grant Marquisate and I will handle everything.”
“Yes,” Nora replied, nodding meekly, though a knot of unease twisted in her chest. Would following her parents and the Grant Marquisate truly secure her future? She couldn’t shake the feeling of being used.
***
On the final day of the Founding Festival, Aracila received a letter from Frederick, proposing they hang out as friends, something they hadn’t done in a while. She penned a brief reply and sent it off:
“Sorry, I’ve already enjoyed the festival with my husband this year. I’m good, so go have fun with Paula.”
And so, the Founding Festival came to an end.
Throughout the celebration, the magical lanterns had sold like wildfire, their radiant glow illuminating every corner of the streets. The demand for magic airships had also surged, drawing interest from merchants far beyond the empire’s borders. As a result, Damian, who handled external affairs, found himself swamped with work, barely able to catch his breath. Aracila, too, was consumed with crafting lanterns, her schedule packed with an endless stream of orders.
Just as she finished the mountain of lantern commissions and paused to take a breath, Paula arrived at the Vandermir estate.
“Hope I’m not interrupting your busy schedule,” Paula said, a hint of concern in her voice.
“No, you’re fine. I was just about to take a break,” Aracila replied warmly.
Audrey brought out tea for the two. As Paula took a sip, her eyes darted around restlessly—a telltale sign Aracila knew well, signaling her friend had something on her mind but was hesitant to speak. To ease the tension, Aracila tossed out a light question. “Did you enjoy the festival?”
“Yeah, it was fun. You?” Paula asked.
“I had a blast with Damian,” Aracila said, smiling. “Oh, what did you and Frederick get up to?”
The question came naturally, as Aracila assumed Frederick, having reached out to her, would’ve spent the festival with Paula. But Paula tilted her head, looking puzzled. “What would I do with Frederick?”
“Didn’t you two hang out during the festival?” Aracila pressed.
“No, I spent it with my fiancé and some other friends,” Paula replied.
The unexpected answer threw Aracila off, and she set her teacup down. “I thought since Frederick asked me to hang out and I turned him down, he’d have gone to you.”
“He didn’t mention anything like that to me,” Paula said.
“Really…?” Aracila trailed off, at a loss for words. The three of them had been inseparable since their academy days, a tight-knit trio. She’d assumed Frederick would’ve extended the same invitation to Paula. The contradiction left her flustered, her thoughts tangled.
Paula shrugged, brushing it off casually. “Well, Frederick’s always been a bit closer to you, hasn’t he?”
“Was he? I thought we were all equally tight,” Aracila said, frowning slightly.
Paula’s expression suggested she had more to say but was holding back. “Aracila, there’s no such thing as perfect fairness in people’s hearts. Even I like you the best out of all my friends.”
Despite having many friends, Paula always felt most at ease with Aracila. It was why she’d come all the way to the Vandermir estate today. “Actually, I came here to share some news,” she said, her tone turning serious, as if she’d finally steeled herself.
“What news?” Aracila asked, leaning in.
“Lady White has returned to society,” Paula said, bracing herself for the reaction.
To her surprise, Aracila didn’t seem shocked or bothered. From the start, Aracila hadn’t set out to ruin Nora completely. Her actions had been a warning, meant to ensure Nora wouldn’t dare cross her again. She’d always known Nora might return to society, so the news didn’t stir much emotion. As long as Nora had learned her lesson, that was enough.
“I heard the Duchess of Lester helped her out a lot,” Paula continued. “She set up a stage for Lady White to explain herself regarding the public confession.”
“Oh? What did she say?” Aracila asked, curious.
“Well…” Paula hesitated briefly before recounting how Nora had openly admitted her feelings for Damian and her jealousy toward Aracila, framing it as a moment of weakness.
As Aracila listened, one thought crossed her mind: That’s a clever strategy. When the truth is undeniable, it’s better to face it head-on. If Nora’s remorse was genuine, it wasn’t a bad outcome for Aracila either. Though I doubt it’s real.
If Nora were truly repentant, she would’ve come to apologize directly. Instead, she’d prioritized reentering society, clearly aiming to garner sympathy. As long as she doesn’t come after us again, she can live however she wants, Aracila thought. She hadn’t expected genuine remorse from Nora anyway—just the understanding that crossing her was off-limits.
“Be careful, Aracila,” Paula warned, her voice laced with concern. “I don’t think Lady White would dare pick a fight with you again, but you never know.”
She’d hesitated to share the news, worried it might stir trouble, but felt compelled to warn her friend just in case.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Paula. I’ll keep my eyes open,” Aracila said, her face breaking into a warm smile. “And you know you’re my favorite, too.”
Feeling her friend’s care, Aracila’s heart lifted. The two continued chatting pleasantly until evening approached. Startled by the time, Paula jumped up from her seat. Aracila walked her to the door to see her off. After a quick hug, Paula paused before climbing into her carriage, turning back with a look that suggested she had one last thing to say.
“Aracila, remember what I said earlier? About there being no fairness in people’s hearts?”
“Yeah,” Aracila replied, nodding.
“Be cautious about that, too. Favoritism doesn’t always lead to good outcomes.”
Paula’s tone was earnest, but Aracila tilted her head, puzzled. She couldn’t quite grasp what her friend meant. There weren’t many people who held uneven affection for her—could one of them be someone to watch out for? She needed more explanation, but Paula ended the conversation there and left.
Left alone, Aracila furrowed her brow, an uneasy feeling settling in her chest.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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