IWAPUF 40

At Isabella’s question, Count Pison shook his head. Her gaze flickered between me and the count,
back and forth. I tried to maintain a nonchalant expression, but there was no hiding the flush that
had already crept into my cheeks.
“Understood,” Isabella said, nodding toward the count. It seemed she wouldn’t press further, at
least not here. I let out a soft sigh of relief.
No matter how brazen I might be, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her, a former royal, that I had
once conspired to end the imperial line. Especially not when she’d just learned that the target was
her own brother. Her reaction, if she knew, was all too predictable.
“Things have gotten a bit strange, but introductions are in order, aren’t they? This is my husband,
Baran Lloyd Pison,” Isabella said, pulling the count toward me.
I bowed slightly to him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Beonne Rossa Eliont.”
“A pleasure, Lady Eliont,” he replied, returning my greeting with a courteous nod. “You
resemble Marquess Eliont quite a bit.”
His unexpected comment caught me off guard, and my eyes widened. A faint smile played on the
count’s angular, masculine face. “Paying back what’s owed, and then some—that’s a specialty
of the marquess, isn’t it?”
My face burned again. His words confirmed he’d overheard every bit of my conversation with the
crown prince.
“There’s no one else around,” Count Pison remarked, his tone laced with meaning.
Isabella, pretending not to notice, glanced around and spoke up. It was clear she didn’t want to put
me in an awkward position. Grateful for her tact, I followed her lead and looked around as well.
As she’d said, the area was empty save for a few carriages. I’d known there was no one nearby
except the count and countess, which was why I’d dared to be so bold with the crown prince.
“The hunt’s already started,” the count explained.
“Already?” Isabella and I said in unison, our eyes meeting. We hadn’t realized how much time
had passed while we lingered. Noticing our surprise, the count continued, “His Majesty began the
hunt as soon as he arrived.”
“Father, honestly,” Isabella said with a wry chuckle, shaking her head. “At his age…”
The emperor loved hunting. Though he’d been reining himself in lately due to his advancing years
and the nagging of those around him, just a few years ago, he was a frequent visitor to the hunting
grounds. Despite his age, the emperor had always been fond of vigorous activities, which kept him
remarkably healthy for his years. He’d never been bedridden or plagued by illness, living a robust
life until the very end. Even in his final moments, he passed as if simply falling asleep.
No one had anticipated his death, so hale and hearty was he despite his age. When he died, the
imperial court fell into chaos for a time. I didn’t know it then, but there must have been a fierce
struggle between the crown prince and the first prince. Though the crown prince ultimately
ascended the throne, his victory was far from absolute. The first prince’s consort still lingered in
the palace, and the first prince himself constantly undermined the crown prince’s authority.
“We should get moving,” Isabella said.
“I’ll guide you,” Count Pison offered, extending his hand to her. She took it with a radiant smile,
and watching them, I felt an odd pang in my chest, stirred by the evident love between them.
—
**Act 10: The Battlefield of Women**
*Well, this is just great.*
I barely swallowed a sigh. I should’ve gone with Isabella, I thought, regret gnawing at me.
While the men hunted, most of the noblewomen gathered in a comfortable, designated area to chat.
A few women joined the hunt, but they were the exception. Isabella was one of those few. I’d
turned down her offer to join her, not because I disliked hunting, but because my heart wasn’t
generous enough to intrude on a couple so clearly devoted to each other. She’d tried several times
to persuade me, but I’d pushed her to go, jokingly asking her to catch my share too. Now, I was
regretting it.
“It’s been a while, Lady Eliont,” came a voice.
“I feel like we see each other quite often, Your Highness,” I replied to the first prince’s consort.
Her eyebrow twitched slightly at my response, but the smile on her lips didn’t falter. I had to
suppress another sigh.
Coming to the resting area after parting with Isabella had seemed like a good idea—until I realized
it was filled exclusively with women. In noble society, a woman’s status typically followed her
husband’s. Unmarried women like me relied on the prestige of their family. A man’s rank was, in
essence, a woman’s rank.
But just as men had their own unspoken rules, the world of women had its own. No matter how
high a husband’s title, a woman could easily become prey to the jackal-like noblewomen if they
deemed her weak. The most glaring example sat beside the first prince’s consort: the empress, her
face etched with unease.
“Beonne Rossa Eliont greets Her Majesty the Empress,” I said formally.
“Oh, do come in, Lady Eliont,” the empress replied, tilting her head and avoiding my gaze.
Snickers rippled through the surrounding women.
By protocol, the empress should have acknowledged my greeting and offered me a seat. It was a
rule akin to those at a tea party, where the hostess assigns seats to her guests. The closer to the
hostess, the higher the honor; the farther away, the lower the status. Tea parties were often held at
small round tables to blur the distinction between high and low seats, as the farthest seat faced the
hostess directly.
This wasn’t a small tea party, nor was it a round table. The hierarchy of seats was starkly clear,
and the only empty spot was the one farthest from the empress, at the edge of the shaded canopy.
The first prince’s consort, acting as though she were the hostess, watched me with a smirk
brimming with mockery. Her followers crowded around her, mirroring her expression.
I scanned the faces of the seated women. As expected, the nobles aligned with the crown prince
were seated closest to the lowliest spots, near the edge of the gathering.
Every one of them avoided my gaze. I couldn’t entirely blame them. The forces supporting the
crown prince and those backing the first prince were nearly evenly matched, though, to be precise,
the crown prince’s faction held a slight edge. The emperor had spared no effort in supporting the
crown prince, and Marquess Eliont, the chancellor, stood firmly at his side. Even if the first
prince’s faction had been amassing power for years, the crown prince held a clear advantage in
legitimacy.
Yet, appearances could be deceiving. In the world of women, the first prince’s faction wielded far
greater influence. The first prince’s consort, who dominated not only the inner palace but also
high society, had no equal among the crown prince’s supporters. There was no one in their camp
capable of rivaling her and becoming the center of the social sphere.
Ever since the first princess married and left for the south, the first prince’s consort and her noble
allies had taken control of high society. Among the crown prince’s faction, the highest-ranking
woman was the crown prince’s maternal grandmother, the Duchess of Garfield. But after losing
her daughter, the former empress, she had withdrawn into seclusion. She had served as my
chaperone at my coming-of-age ceremony, but that single day was the only time she’d appeared in
society recently. She was too frail, both mentally and physically, to navigate the social battlefield
and challenge the first prince’s consort.
A faction without a central figure lacks strength. In the women’s world, the crown prince’s
supporters had long been without such a figure. It was only natural that they tread carefully around
the first prince’s consort.
“Where is my seat, Your Majesty?” I asked the empress, ignoring the lone empty chair at the
edge of the gathering.
She still couldn’t meet my eyes. Though I was no longer the crown princess as I had been, I was
still the daughter of a marquess. Among the women gathered here, few outranked me aside from
the royals. To seat me at the lowest place was tantamount to openly disrespecting me. The timid
empress might have been coerced by the first prince’s consort, but that didn’t make it any more
pleasant for me.
“Your Majesty?” I pressed.
“Can’t the lady find her own seat?” came a voice dripping with mockery, followed by a ripple
of giggles.
I turned toward the sound. A young woman, perhaps in her late teens, was fanning herself with a
peacock-feather fan, her demeanor brimming with arrogance. Her face was familiar. I took a
moment to recall who she was. Though she looked younger than I remembered, I knew her
instantly.
“It seems you’re still unfamiliar with imperial etiquette, having only recently become a
concubine. You ought to study the protocols more diligently,” I said.
“What did you say?” she snapped, her voice rising in indignation.
She was one of the first prince’s concubines. The title “bin” referred to a concubine of an
emperor or prince who had not been elevated to a higher rank. If my memory was correct, she had
entered the palace shortly after I became the crown princess. She must have only recently become
a concubine, still young and unpolished by the ways of the imperial court. Unable to fully conceal
her emotions, she was driven by her ambitions.
The first prince had one official wife and three concubines. At thirty-five, he still had no children.
Despite having four women, none had borne a child or even shown signs of pregnancy. One might
question the first prince’s virility at this point, but the first prince’s consort was undeterred. She
had brought in more concubines, reportedly from a family renowned for its fertility. Back then, I
had laughed scornfully at her, mocking her desperate measures.
The first prince’s official wife, who had endured years of public scrutiny and the first prince’s
consort’s harassment for her childlessness, was also overshadowed by the concubines. Unable to
bear it, she had left the palace under the pretext of health issues and was now residing outside.
With her pretty face and curvaceous figure, this concubine had enjoyed the first prince’s favor for
a time after entering the palace. With the official wife absent, and with both the first prince’s
consort’s attention and the first prince’s affection, she had grown insufferably haughty. She
strutted through the inner palace as if she owned it, even daring to act arrogantly toward me, the
crown princess at the time.
As a prince’s concubine, she was undeniably a secondary wife. Back then, I, as the crown
princess from a powerful marquessate, had no patience for a viscount’s daughter causing a scene
in the palace. I don’t recall exactly what she said to provoke me, but I remember grabbing her by
the hair in a fit of rage. No one dared to intervene. The gap between the crown princess and a
prince’s concubine was vast, and my family was among the most influential in the empire. Few
had the standing to stop me.
By the time the crown prince and the first prince arrived after hearing the commotion, I had
already yanked out a handful of her hair. I stood there, fuming, clutching her torn locks, while the
crown prince looked at me with utter disbelief.
Looking back, compared to the emperor and the first prince, who kept numerous women, the
crown prince was remarkably restrained when it came to women. Unlike his predecessors, who
typically had several concubines, he had only one—the daughter of Duke Daysha. That alone
spoke to how much he loved her.
“To speak of etiquette in my presence—how utterly lacking in manners you are, Lady Eliont!”
the concubine spat.
Then and now, she seemed to think being a prince’s concubine was some grand title. True,
becoming part of the imperial family was no small matter, but it depended on whom you were
facing. Engaging in these verbal sparring matches with women was exhausting, draining energy I’
d rather not spend. For a fleeting moment, I considered acting as if I were mad and grabbing her
hair again, just like before.
If I were planning to abandon high society entirely, it wouldn’t be a bad move. But as a
noblewoman who intended to remain in this world, the aftermath would be a hassle to clean up. It
might feel satisfying, but in this situation, the costs outweighed the benefits.
Ignoring the concubine, I turned my gaze to the first prince’s consort. She was watching us with
the amused expression of someone enjoying a lively play. It was clear she intended to subtly
intervene if our clash escalated, likely to put me in my place. For now, I decided to play along
with her plan—though the outcome would differ from what she expected.
“‘Dare,’ you say? Your choice of words betrays your lack of education. You should study the
imperial language more thoroughly,” I said, shifting my gaze back to the concubine.
Her face flushed crimson, her lips trembling. Before she could respond, I pressed on. “And who
are you, a mere concubine, to interrupt a conversation between Her Majesty the Empress and me
without permission?”
“W-what?!” she stammered.
I looked down at her, my eyes sweeping over her seated form. Her face was now a mottled red and
purple, as if it might burst. I drove the point home. “Are you aware that your actions are an insult
to Her Majesty?”
A heavy silence fell over the gathering. No matter how diminished the empress’s influence,
openly insulting her was another matter entirely. To disrespect the empress was to disrespect the
imperial family itself. If this incident were raised formally, even the first prince’s consort would
struggle to smooth it over. At the very least, the concubine could be expelled from the palace for
insulting the empress. And I had the power to escalate this matter, both officially and unofficially.
“Isn’t that right, Your Majesty?” I asked, turning to the empress.
“I…” The empress faltered, her eyes darting to the first prince’s consort as every gaze in the
room fixed on her.
The first prince’s consort’s brow furrowed slightly. I had clearly asked the empress where my
seat was, and it was her turn to respond. The concubine’s interruption was an unmistakable
misstep. Under normal circumstances, given the empress’s weakened position, this might have
been overlooked. The first prince’s consort herself frequently spoke dismissively of the empress.
The concubine’s lack of etiquette was partly due to her inexperience, but it was also because she
had grown accustomed to seeing the empress disregarded.
Judging by the concubine’s expression, she still didn’t fully grasp how her actions had insulted
the empress. Had I not pointed it out, no one present would have noticed. That was how far the
empress’s authority had fallen.
“It seems the concubine, having only recently entered the palace, is unfamiliar with imperial
etiquette. It’s my fault for not guiding her properly. I ask for Your Majesty’s understanding,” the
first prince’s consort said, her eyes never leaving me.
“Of course, of course,” the empress replied hastily. “If she’s new to the palace, it’s only
natural she’s not yet versed in etiquette.”
“Apologize to Her Majesty,” the first prince’s consort ordered the concubine.
“B-but—”
“Concubine!”