Rather than walking away from me, Isabel was walking directly toward them. Not what I had expected at all.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she stopped in front of the group and looked down at them in silence.
Startled by the sudden appearance of this unfamiliar face, all four young ladies fell quiet mid-sentence, eyes widening as they turned to look at her.
One of them creased her brow and asked with poorly concealed affront:
“Coming up to us without a word like this — what exactly is the meaning of this rudeness?”
“Is this rude?”
“Ha — if it isn’t rude, then what is it? Can you not even distinguish what constitutes rude behavior?”
The tone was plainly meant to intimidate, but Isabel didn’t blink. Her expression didn’t change in the slightest.
“I see. Then if my approaching you in silence was rude — does the conversation you were just having also count as rude?”
A single question, and the group collectively flinched.
“What is that supposed to mean—”
“Has she lost her mind…?”
The one who appeared to be the ringleader silenced the others with a look, then turned to Isabel.
“…What exactly are you trying to say to us right now?”
“I was wondering whether it makes you feel better to tear someone down without any basis for it.”
“Ha — the audacity. She comes over here for this? To lecture us?”
“I don’t recognize her face. She should be careful what she’s doing — speaking to us this way won’t serve her well.”
It was meant as a threat. Isabel was entirely unmoved.
“So you genuinely didn’t realize, not even slightly, that what you were doing was wrong. And still—”
The look in Isabel’s eyes as she regarded them was one of unfeigned sorrow.
Right. This was who Isabel was.
The kind of person who could not stand quietly by in the face of any injustice — the archetypal heroine, step by step.
I felt a flush of shame at the fact that I had harbored even a moment’s doubt about her.
The group stood there with dumbstruck expressions, as though they had taken a counterpunch they hadn’t seen coming.
One of them recovered first and snapped open her fan with a sharp click.
“Oh — so that’s who this is. The face I didn’t recognize. You’re the one, aren’t you? The commoner who was taken in by Countess Yerenia’s family.”
Something about naming it seemed to restore her confidence, and the awkward shock left her face as she launched back in.
“That explains the behavior. A commoner of low birth who became a noble overnight — what could she possibly know about anything.”
But there was something they had all overlooked.
Isabel was not your standard, run-of-the-mill heroine of justice.
Not by a considerable margin.
The expression on Isabel’s face — which until now had shown no sign of being affected at all — shifted, just slightly. As though something had hurt her very deeply.
The ladies’ faces immediately brightened with a collective air of satisfaction.
Isabel opened her mouth slowly.
“To be incapable of determining what is right and wrong in one’s own actions — that is an unfortunate thing. And to feel not even the smallest pang of conscience over those wrongs — that is equally unfortunate. It means lacking something that every human being born into this world is meant to carry.”
“What — what did she just—”
The group stared at her, every one of them discomfited now.
Isabel had the kind of clear, undaunted character that would not back down for anyone.
Her expression grew genuinely troubled — as though she truly pitied them.
“In that sense, it is deeply sad to me that you have had something so essential taken from you, without even knowing it was gone…”
Confusion written across each other’s faces as they exchanged glances.
They hadn’t understood the words, but their instincts told them clearly enough it wasn’t a compliment, and they erupted.
There was a brief, funny gap before the anger actually arrived.
Apparently quite offended, the group turned on her — and that was when I stepped forward.
The ringleader’s face had gone scarlet, and she was lifting her hand high into the air.
I caught it.
“Who is this? Let go right now—!”
She spun around with irritation — and came face to face with me at close range. The flush of outrage drained from her face to white in under five seconds.
I released her wrist.
“L-Lady Melberine…”
From the expression on her face, she was desperately hoping I had only just arrived. Every one of them had been chattering so freely a moment ago — and now they all stood there with their mouths sealed shut.
After years of simply letting it go, seeing those expressions gave me a satisfaction I could not entirely suppress.
“You seemed to be having such an entertaining conversation.”
“N-no, that wasn’t—”
“What wasn’t it, then?”
The group exchanged nervous glances and stepped forward together, offering apologies in a rush.
“W-we’re so sorry, Lady Melberine. We said some terribly careless things about you.”
“Please forgive us, Lady Melberine. We were wrong.”
My gaze, utterly without warmth, drifted to the red wine sitting on the table nearby.
“Fine. I’ll accept the apology.”
Their faces shifted instantly, flooding with relief.
It was almost comical in its shamelessness. Did they actually believe a few muttered words would earn them a genuine pardon?
I let out a short, derisive exhale, reached over, and picked up two glasses of red wine from the table. Then, with all the care and deliberation of someone who had worked very hard on something, I poured the contents — evenly, methodically — over their elaborately styled hair.
Half and half. Very fair.
“Kyaah—!”
“What do you think you’re doing, Lady Melberine—!”
“I said I would accept the apology. I never said I would forgive you.”
The red wine slid in slow, viscous streams from the crowns of their heads down to their shoulders, staining everything it touched. I looked at them with a bright, open smile.
“Wasn’t this what you wanted? I think it suits you both very well.”
“You will regret this. Our families will not stand for—!”
“Did you think I’ve been leaving you alone all this time out of fear for your families?”
“It was the opposite. You were never worth the bother of my attention. That’s why I left you alone.”
I gave the ringleader’s shoulder a light, almost friendly pat as I added the final word.
“I would appreciate it if you refrained from making me go to the trouble again.”
“…Yes. We’re sorry.”
Whatever pride she had left had been thoroughly flattened — the answer came out barely above the sound of a breath.
That, somehow, was the most satisfying outcome of all. I turned to Isabel.
“Shall we go, Miss Yerenia?”
“Yes! Let’s!”
I took Isabel with me and moved as far from them as the room allowed. I had half-wondered if she would be put off by what I’d done with the wine — but she showed no sign of it.
Isabel cast one last glance toward where the group had been and kept murmuring to herself.
“They were really very sad people. To be so defensive and shameless, right up to the very end…”
“I agree. I found them sad as well.”
I nodded along in genuine agreement.
“Oh — I’m sorry for interfering like that earlier. You might have found it irritating, and I just… my body moved before I could think…”
The bright-eyed, composed girl of a moment ago had reverted to the same softly flustered expression she’d worn when we first met.
Something about the contrast made me laugh.
“Don’t apologize. Having someone take my side is a rare enough occurrence that I was grateful, if anything.”
Isabel’s face broke into something moved, and she reached out and clasped my hand in both of hers.
“I’m so glad the first person I met here was you, Lady Melberine. If it’s all right with you — might I be able to see you somewhere other than banquets?”
Bright, starlit eyes turned toward me.
“Of course. I would like that too, Miss Yerenia.”
The more I looked at her, the more I understood why Isabel was the heroine. And why the male leads couldn’t help falling for her.
An unbidden image of Axel’s face surfaced in my mind, and the heaviness returned. Not wanting to end the day on a low note, I turned to Isabel with a thought.
“Do you happen to drink?”
