Seeing her unchanged from back then stirred conflicting emotions—dislike mixed with an odd sense of relief. It was a strange feeling, even to me.
“You’re going too far, Lady Daysha,” someone interjected, stepping up for the speechless Lady Leslie. I recognized her as one of Leslie’s usual companions.
Lady Kerrion, was it?
“It was your servant who was rude to Lady Leslie first. Yet you insult her? Are you mocking us all?”
Her sharp words turned Daysha’s daughter into a common enemy of their group in an instant. I nearly clapped at her eloquence.
But she underestimated Daysha’s daughter.
If she were swayed by that alone, I wouldn’t have nearly fainted from rage so many times back then.
As expected, Daysha’s daughter whined tearfully, “She just dirtied her dress! Lea’s face is bleeding!”
True to form, she ignored context, judging everything by her own standards.
To her, manners and social norms didn’t exist. She divided the world into good and evil based solely on her own beliefs, forcing them on others.
Just like now.
“Just dirtied?”
Lady Kerrion’s patience, already paper-thin, frayed further. Young and inexperienced, she seemed unprepared for this. Her composed demeanor crumbled as her face flushed with anger.
“Apologize to Lea,” Daysha’s daughter demanded, her teary eyes pressuring the group.
“Violence is bad!”
Her words sent a ripple of humiliation through Lady Leslie and her allies. As dyed-in-the-wool nobles, they believed themselves above commoners. Apologizing to a servant—especially one who’d defied them—was unthinkable.
I’m starting to get the picture.
From their exchange, the man on the ground, and Leslie’s soiled dress, I pieced together what happened.
She’s blindly protecting a clumsy servant.
Daysha’s daughter was shielding a servant who’d dirtied Leslie’s dress.
Covering for a servant’s mistake wasn’t wise, especially with nobles. The proper response was to apologize sincerely and discipline the servant to the noble’s satisfaction.
But such concepts were alien to her. In her eyes, Leslie was simply a villain bullying her people—nothing more, nothing less.
“Who’s apologizing to whom?” Lady Leslie shouted, her patience snapping.
Daysha’s daughter flinched, hiding behind her maid. Infuriated by the display, Leslie called her knights.
“Drag that wretch out! I’ll personally make her pay for her insolence!”
She pointed at the man on the ground, her voice venomous.
Punishing a servant without their master’s consent, especially in their presence, was a grave insult.
Though Daysha’s daughter seemed naive, she was the duke’s only child. Punishing her servant in front of her was tantamount to challenging House Daysha itself.
But Leslie, blinded by rage, didn’t care—or she had backing.
“What are you waiting for?”
Her knights hesitated but moved at her second command.
“No!”
Daysha’s daughter threw herself in front of them. Her knights stepped forward to protect her.
The atmosphere grew tense, and onlookers began to scatter, wary of getting caught in a noble dispute. No spectacle was worth risking their safety.
“My lady,” Marly said, her voice uneasy.
“Beeonne,” Levina echoed, her face anxious.
I understood their desire to leave, but my feet wouldn’t move.
“Come any closer, and I’ll scream!”
Daysha’s daughter spread her arms, shielding her servant with a dramatic air. I found her threat laughable—the spectacle’s already in full swing.
Leslie scoffed, “Go ahead and scream. House Leslie won’t bow to House Daysha. My mother is the emperor’s daughter. Let’s see who wins!”
So she does have backing.
A duke outranked an earl, but titles alone didn’t determine power. Duke Daysha had stayed in his domain, with no foothold in the capital. Noble factions circled him, but no solid alliances existed yet.
House Leslie, like House Eliant, was a founding family. As Leslie claimed, her mother’s status as the emperor’s daughter made her a de facto granddaughter. With the emperor’s many daughters, it was unclear if he remembered them all, but even House Daysha couldn’t dismiss House Leslie lightly.
“Sirius… no, His Highness won’t let this slide!”
“Hah!”
Irritation surged when Daysha’s daughter mentioned Sys. I’d planned to walk away, but that name stopped me cold.
“Why wouldn’t His Highness let this slide?”
I stepped into their confrontation. All eyes—glaring and tense—turned to me.
“Lady Eliant!”
One of Daysha’s knights bowed slightly. I recognized him as a palace guard who’d occasionally escorted me.
Now I see—most of them are palace knights.
Except for one knight close to Daysha’s daughter, all bore the golden lion emblem of the imperial guard.
The imperial knights served various orders, from the emperor’s personal guard to others, each taking commands from different masters. Their sleeve colors marked their allegiance. Sys, as the crown prince, had his own knights.
I glanced at their sleeves. Silver, gleaming in the sunlight, matched Sys’s hair.
So that’s why she mentioned him.
A smirk tugged at my lips.
“Lady Daysha, will you answer my question?”
My voice came out softer than I expected, paired with the gentlest smile I could muster.
“No response?”
She pressed her lips shut, saying nothing. Her stubborn silence stoked my anger, but I couldn’t unleash it on a crowded street. Instead, I smiled brighter, masking my frustration.
I knew her obstinacy was tougher than iron. She’d endured my past torment, which would’ve broken most. Despite her tearful whining, her nerves were steel.
Don’t be fooled by her delicate facade.
I hadn’t expected an answer anyway. Turning to the knights, I asked, “Why are His Highness’s knights escorting Lady Daysha?”
They exchanged hesitant glances.
“I believe I have the right to ask,” I pressed. “Or am I mistaken?”
“No, Lady Eliant,” the familiar knight replied.
“Then explain.”
“Duke Daysha requested aid from His Highness.”
The duke brought only five knights to the capital—too few to protect both himself and his daughter.
But why Sys’s knights specifically?
If the duke had asked, the emperor would’ve provided knights readily. Yet these were Sys’s, not the emperor’s. Sys wasn’t the type to offer them willingly, meaning the duke had gone to him directly.
What’s his game?
While I spoke with the knight, Daysha’s daughter trembled, her large eyes brimming with tears, looking pitiful enough to stir sympathy. Her fragility alone could make others feel like villains.
“I see. But what’s the cause of this commotion?”
