IWAPUF 42

Bin’s face crumpled in an instant. I turned my gaze from her to an older noblewoman seated near
the head of the gathering. She appeared to be in her early to mid-sixties, observing my exchange
with Bin with keen interest. When our eyes met, I lifted the corners of my lips into a deep,
deliberate smile.
“Isn’t that so, Countess Rustine?”
The Rustine earldom was a powerhouse among the neutral factions. Their territory, a vital link
between the northern regions and the capital, had amassed wealth through trade for generations.
But the earldom’s true claim to fame wasn’t its lands or riches—it was Countess Rustine herself.
Renowned as the epitome of noble decorum, Countess Rustine was a paragon of etiquette. Her
reputation was such that she was invited to instruct not only highborn ladies but even imperial
princesses in the art of propriety. She was the chaperone every noble debutante dreamed of
having.
To have Countess Rustine as a chaperone was a mark of distinction, a guarantee that the young
lady in question met the countess’s exacting standards of refinement. It was as good as receiving a
certificate of impeccable breeding. While her influence in high society paled in comparison to the
First Imperial Consort’s, it was still considerable. My decision to invoke Bin’s lack of manners
and draw the countess into the conversation was a calculated move to leverage that influence.
To shake the First Imperial Consort’s iron grip on this social sphere, I needed to attack from both
the outside and the inside simultaneously. If Levina was my first step on the outer fringes,
Countess Rustine was my initial target within the inner circle.
Crucially, the Rustine earldom belonged to the neutral faction. Unlike the Eliont family, which had
shifted from neutrality to the Crown Prince’s faction upon my engagement, the Rustines had yet
to align with any side. The families already loyal to the Crown Prince would naturally rally around
me without effort. If I was going to invest in building alliances, it made far more sense to court the
neutrals than to waste energy on those already predisposed to support me.
Despite my sudden address, Countess Rustine showed no sign of surprise, as if she’d anticipated
it. All eyes turned to us, the air thick with expectation.
“I’ve heard that Countess Rustine is a model of propriety for all noblewomen,” I said. “Would
you share your insight on whether my understanding is correct?”
She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she held my gaze in silence, her expression unreadable,
betraying no hint of emotion. As her silence stretched on, the quiet murmurs around us began to
swell. From Bin’s corner, laughter mingled with mocking jabs aimed at me.
“Hmph, she acted so high and mighty, and now look at her—how embarrassing,” one voice
sneered.
“Exactly. Who does she think she is, lecturing others when she’s barely stepped into high
society?” another added.
Though they spoke as if conversing among themselves, their voices carried clearly to everyone
present. No one in the tent could have missed their words.
“For Countess Rustine to stay silent, she must find this utterly absurd,” one of them continued.
“If it were me, I’d be too humiliated to sit there so brazenly.”
“She doesn’t know her place, and now she’s getting what she deserves. Ho ho ho.”
As time passed, their attacks grew bolder, more blatant. But I’d anticipated their taunts. There was
no need to let predictable barbs unsettle me. I kept my smile steady, my posture rigid, and my eyes
fixed on Countess Rustine. Her gaze narrowed, assessing me as if I were a specimen under
scrutiny.
I could have pressed her for an answer, but I held back. I wasn’t waiting for a lecture on etiquette.
She knew my true intent, which was why she was taking her time.
Countess Rustine harbored a deep-seated resentment toward the First Imperial Consort. It wasn’t
overt, but those familiar with their history could sense the rift between them. The countess,
cautious by nature, never acted recklessly, but her animosity toward the First Imperial Consort ran
deep. The reason? Her younger brother had been the First Imperial Consort’s jilted fiancé.
Devastated by the betrayal, he had taken his own life—a foolish choice, but one with profound
consequences. The loss of their only heir left the countess’s natal family in ruins, its legacy
passing to a collateral branch and fading into obscurity. To Countess Rustine, the First Imperial
Consort was nothing less than the architect of her family’s downfall. Though she never expressed
it openly, she had been sharpening her blade against her in secret.
When I became Empress, Countess Rustine unsheathed that blade. Imperial law dictated that upon
an emperor’s death, not only his brothers but also his concubines must leave the palace. Custom,
however, permitted consorts of Bin’s rank to remain. The First Imperial Consort, even after the
Emperor’s passing, refused to leave, and no one dared challenge her—except Countess Rustine.
Armed with ancient texts and legal precedents, she argued for the First Imperial Consort’s
expulsion. Scholars rallied to her cause, and her airtight logic and irrefutable evidence left the
First Imperial Consort with no defense. She was forced to leave the palace.
The enemy of my enemy is my ally. My confrontation with the First Imperial Consort was as good
as a public declaration of enmity. By reaching out to Countess Rustine, I was extending a hand to
a potential ally.
I didn’t care what she thought of me personally, and I doubted she cared much about who I was as
an individual. What mattered was that we shared a common foe. As long as that enemy existed, we
could form a bond. And as long as that bond held, I was fully prepared to exploit every resource
she could offer.
I was certain she would take my hand. And I was right. The corners of her mouth curved upward
in a subtle arc.
“As Lady Eliont rightly said, in a gathering like this, it’s basic courtesy to clearly address the
person you’re speaking to,” she said, her voice calm but commanding.
Her gaze shifted from me to the chattering group around Bin. The moment her eyes landed on
them, their mouths snapped shut.
“It’s unfortunate that some fail to adhere to such basic decorum, leading to grave mistakes,” she
continued.
Her eyes returned to me, crinkling slightly at the corners as fine lines formed around them. She
gave a subtle nod, visible only to me. I returned the gesture. An unspoken agreement had been
sealed between us.
“I’m impressed that a young lady, so new to high society, grasps the fundamental etiquette that
even seasoned members often neglect,” she said.
“Indeed,” another noblewoman nearby chimed in. “She truly lives up to her distinguished
lineage.”
“I can see why His Majesty is so eager to have her as a daughter-in-law,” added another.
The noblewomen seated around Countess Rustine began to echo her sentiments, their voices
warming the previously chilly atmosphere. The mood shifted to one of cautious goodwill.
“Thank you,” I said, placing a hand over my heart and offering a graceful nod to Countess
Rustine and the women around her.
“My, what a flawless curtsy!” one of them exclaimed.
“Lady Eliont must have been tutored by a truly refined noblewoman,” Countess Rustine
remarked, her eyes gleaming with genuine admiration. She seemed sincerely impressed by my
decorum. I responded with a soft smile, meeting her praise with humility.
“You’re too kind, Countess. Compared to you, I’m still lacking.”
I offered her a gentle smile, and the spark of intrigue in her eyes deepened. It was only natural—
she couldn’t have missed that my actions mirrored hers almost exactly. Though this was
ostensibly our first meeting, I already knew her well. When I had first become Crown Princess,
the Emperor had insisted that Countess Rustine oversee my etiquette training. While he was
lenient with me in many ways, he was uncompromising when it came to matters of refinement and
decorum.
I had no choice but to endure her lessons for the duration he mandated. Those hours were more
than enough to familiarize myself with her mannerisms and character. My confidence that she
would take my hand stemmed from that intimate knowledge of her disposition.
“My goodness, Lady Eliont is not only impeccably mannered but humble as well,” a voice
exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm. I couldn’t quite place the speaker’s family, but she
belonged to the Crown Prince’s faction. Her words seemed to spark a reaction, as others from the
same faction began to shower me with praise from all sides.
In contrast to the growing liveliness among the Crown Prince’s supporters, the faces of Bin and
her noble faction allies hardened. Bin, in particular, glared at me with venomous intensity, her
expression twisted with malice.
Our eyes met. Pretending to shield my mouth with my fan, I angled it so only she could see the
mocking curl of my lips—a blatant taunt. Her glare grew even fiercer, but I turned away, offering
a gracious smile to the group now singing my praises.
“I’ve only mastered the basics,” I said lightly. “To receive such compliments makes me blush.”
“The basics are the foundation of everything,” one woman declared. “Especially when it comes
to etiquette, they’re paramount.”
“Well said,” another chimed in. “Without a solid grasp of the fundamentals, one can hardly call
themselves a noble.”
It seemed Bin had more enemies than I’d anticipated. Once the dam broke, their words surged like
a rushing torrent, sweeping through the gathering. Not only the Crown Prince’s faction and the
neutrals but even a few from the noble faction subtly joined in. Though no one named Bin outright,
it was clear to everyone present who lacked the “basic refinement” they were referring to.
Bin’s face flushed a fiery red, as if it might burst into flames. Yet, to lash out now would only
confirm her lack of decorum, effectively exposing herself as the very person they were criticizing.
She wasn’t foolish enough to fall into that trap. Instead, she could only glare at me with
murderous intensity, unable to join the conversation.
As the noble faction fell silent, the Crown Prince’s supporters and the neutrals took control of the
discussion. The momentum had shifted decisively in my favor. Even someone as formidable as the
First Imperial Consort would struggle to reclaim it now.
While the noble faction remained mute, the Crown Prince’s and neutral factions engaged in lively,
congenial chatter. However, most of the voices belonged to older noblewomen. The younger ladies,
newly come of age and still unpolished in etiquette, hesitated to join in, wary of committing a faux
pas that might draw scorn.
High society was currently dominated by these seasoned noblewomen, but as time passed, the
young ladies—now silent and watching the older women’s every move—would take their place.
It was worth winning their favor now.
“The Asteia family hails from the north, doesn’t it?” I asked, turning to Levina.
“Y-yes, that’s right,” she replied, startled by my sudden question. I met her flustered gaze with
a gentle smile and continued in a soft, reassuring tone.
“I’ve heard the north is renowned for its silk and embroidery. A friend of mine couldn’t stop
raving about some silk she purchased there. This dress I’m wearing was made from northern silk,
you know.”
I lifted the hem of my skirt slightly, as if to show off the fabric, but subtly revealed the embroidery
on the inner lining just for her to see. Every Luia’sha product bore a discreet clover flower
stitched in an inconspicuous place. My dress was no exception—a delicate clover, paired with my
initials, nestled shyly at the hem’s underside.
Levina’s eyes flickered with recognition as she spotted the clover. Hesitantly, she spoke, her voice
barely above a whisper. “Um… is that…”
Though soft, her words were clear enough for me, waiting attentively beside her. I gave her an
encouraging smile to ease her nerves. Emboldened by my kindness, she spoke again, her voice
slightly louder than before.
“Is the dress you’re wearing from Luia’sha?”
Luia’sha’s designs had recently taken the younger noblewomen by storm. Their bold silhouettes,
vibrant colors, and diverse accessories captivated the hearts of those drawn to novelty. Levina was
no exception, her face alight with excitement as she looked at me.
“Yes, it’s one of Madame Miela’s creations,” I confirmed.
Madame Miela was Luia’sha’s head designer, responsible for their dresses, shoes, and accessories.
Even before joining Luia’sha, she had been well-regarded among noblewomen, though financial
constraints had limited her potential. It was Anasha who brought her into Luia’sha, freeing her
from those restrictions. With resources at her disposal, Miela’s talent flourished, her creativity
burning brighter than ever.
“Wasn’t Madame Miela with Shangrila?” a noblewoman in her mid-twenties interjected, joining
my conversation with Levina. She wasn’t alone—every woman nearby had turned their attention
to us.
As expected, luxury items like dresses were an irresistible topic for women of all ages.
“She’s been working with Luia’sha recently,” I replied. “My coming-of-age dress was one
of her designs as well.”
“Oh, my! Now that you mention it, the dress and accessories you wore at your coming-of-age
ceremony were from Luia’sha, weren’t they?” a younger lady exclaimed, her voice brimming
with excitement. She looked younger than I remembered, but I recognized her as a member of a
Crown Prince-aligned family, one with a particular passion for dresses and jewelry. During my
time as Crown Princess, she had often indulged her own desires by encouraging my extravagance.
“Exactly, Lady Nyuela!” I said warmly.
“You know me?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Of course,” I replied. “We exchanged greetings at my coming-of-age ceremony, didn’t we?”
Her excitement grew as she continued, “I didn’t think you’d remember me! You must have met
so many people that day.”
Her astonishment was plain, mirrored by the surprised expressions of the women around her. I met
their gazes one by one, offering each a warm smile.
“You all took the time to attend my coming-of-age ceremony,” I said. “It’s only natural I’d
remember such kind guests.”
Given that the Emperor himself had hosted the event, my ceremony had drawn a large crowd. I
couldn’t recall every attendee, but I remembered those I’d personally greeted—many of whom I’
d already met during my time as Crown Princess.
“That’s remarkable!” a voice called out from the upper seats, where the senior noblewomen sat.
“For a young lady fresh from her coming-of-age, your thoughtfulness is extraordinary,” another
added.