Chapter 19
As the social gathering drew to a close and I waited for my carriage, Roti Beige approached me.
“Lady, Lady Ferris.”
“Yes?”
“Here, take this.”
I instinctively accepted the item she hesitantly held out.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a digestive aid. You seemed to overdo it earlier… I mean, I never would’ve guessed you’d eat that entire tray of desserts.”
She must have felt guilty for just watching me get targeted earlier.
It wasn’t like I was forced to eat them.
As I took the digestive aid, I asked, “You carry these around with you?”
“I often need them.”
I didn’t have to ask to understand.
Roti Beige had probably been through something like I had earlier.
“Honestly, I’m fine. I ate them because I really wanted to. But I’ll gratefully accept your kindness, Lady Beige.”
“Oh…!”
As I tucked the digestive aid into my bag, Roti awkwardly fidgeted with the edge of a brick on the building’s wall.
It seemed her carriage hadn’t arrived yet either.
“Um, listen. In return for the digestive aid, may I offer you a piece of advice?”
“Huh?”
Roti flinched, startled by my sudden address.
Seeing her pale face cautiously sizing me up, I felt like I’d done something wrong, but I didn’t stop.
“You don’t have to force yourself to eat everything the princess tells you to. She’s the type who gets more vicious if her target holds out.”
Nanael’s cruelty stemmed from how she grew even harsher when her prey resisted.
“Oh…”
Roti’s face fell, tinged with dismay.
It was a natural reaction—probably no one had ever been this blunt with her.
In the original story, she suffered pitifully at Nanael’s hands, but the Beige family wasn’t one to be trifled with.
It was just that Nanael treated anyone below a marquess as beneath her.
And that arrogance would spectacularly backfire.
In the original story, Roti’s mother, a brilliant head designer, opened a boutique in the capital under her pseudonym. Unless something changed, that would happen this time too.
Her boutique, known for its bold designs, would soon be chosen by the belle of high society, sparking a massive trend.
There wouldn’t be a lady in the social scene who didn’t wear her dresses.
Later, when it came out that Roti Beige was her only daughter, even Nanael’s followers switched sides to curry favor with Roti.
Moreover, Roti had inherited her mother’s keen sense for design.
Unlike Nanael, who was nothing but a societal menace, Roti was a genuinely talented individual.
In the future, she’d design dresses exclusively for the heroine, Summer, while formally training as her mother’s successor.
The two grew close rapidly, bonded by the shared experience of Nanael’s torment.
Just as Cinderella had her fairy godmother with glass slippers, Summer Clopen had Roti Beige.
Roti made Summer the most beautiful woman throughout the social season.
And when Countess Beige belatedly realized her daughter had been bullied, she declared that, princess or not, she wouldn’t sell a single dress to Nanael.
Her pride wounded, Nanael boasted she wouldn’t take them even if offered, but she was later caught stealing designs from the boutique, suffering grand public humiliation.
Recalling that satisfying moment from the original story, I lifted the corners of my mouth and said, “It’s better to take a few bites and pretend to feel ill. Instead of forcing it down with digestive aids, try telling your parents. That’s another way.”
“I don’t want to worry my parents. I know I must seem foolish to you, Lady Ferris…”
Roti countered with a crestfallen look, and I waved my hands in denial.
“No, no! On the contrary, I thought you were too kind and earnest. Most people burden their parents with trivial things. What I mean is, use your status a bit. If you seem like an easy target to the princess, the entire social season will be tough for you.”
I sidled closer, narrowing the distance between us, and whispered the words I’d been dying to say.
“People like Her Highness, who treat others like dolls, are usually just jealous of those with qualities they lack. Poor Lottie just had the bad luck of stepping in something nasty.”
At my biting assessment, Lottie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.
Well, no wonder—she’d just heard me compare the imperial princess Nanael to filth.
I spoke to Lottie, who was now pale and nervously scanning our surroundings.
“Don’t worry. As long as you keep quiet, no one will know a thing.”
“I swear I won’t say a word.”
“Honestly, even if you did, it wouldn’t matter. If you ever feel like venting about Her Highness, just use my name.”
Unlike Lottie Beige, I had the formidable backing of the Peris Duchy, which gave me the confidence to say such things.
Catching my drift, Lottie’s cheeks flushed a soft pink.
After a brief pause, she hesitated, as if mustering the courage to confess a love, before speaking.
“Could I… maybe write to you sometimes?”
“Letters? We’ll probably run into each other at every event this social season anyway, so let’s just keep saying hi.”
“But no one really wants to hang out with me…”
That’s only true for those too busy watching Nanael’s every move.
It was a needless worry, but saying so now wouldn’t comfort her in the least.
I gently grasped both of Lottie’s shoulders and said, “You’re not seriously lumping me in with those ladies at the table earlier, are you?”
“Huh?”
Lottie tilted her head, not quite catching my meaning.
I flashed a reassuring grin. “I don’t care about Her Highness’s moods, so you can relax around me.”
“…Yes!”
Lottie’s face lit up as she nodded vigorously, her cheeks still rosy.
For Lottie, barely twenty, the hostile undercurrents of high society must have felt daunting.
“I’ll head out first.”
After Lottie left, a carriage bearing the Peris Duchy’s crest pulled up in front of me.
As I waited for the door to open, an unexpected figure stepped out.
“Well, look who it is—Ren?”
It wasn’t Adrian but Alferen inside the carriage.
He greeted me casually. “Hey, Delli. Did you enjoy the gathering?”
I took his offered hand, adorned with a dazzling smile, and climbed into the carriage almost instinctively.
His escort was as smooth and natural as flowing water.
Snapping out of it a moment later, I glanced around. “Where’s Adrian?”
“He fell into the river during rowing practice.”
“Goodness. Probably got carried away with his enthusiasm again, didn’t he?”
I clicked my tongue knowingly.
I keep telling him to take it easy, but does he ever listen?
“So, you went out of your way—way out of your way—to come in his place? I could’ve managed on my own, you know.”
“No way I’d let that happen.”
“Thanks. My brother’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
“I came because it’s you.”
“Always so sweet.”
Our eyes met, and smiles spread across both our faces.
Come to think of it, Alferen was dressed more casually than usual.
Perhaps because he’d come straight from rowing practice, he was in just a shirt.
There was something oddly… captivating about his slightly disheveled appearance.
As I studied him quietly, I muttered under my breath, “Wow. You really owe your parents big time.”
“For what?”
Alferen looked genuinely puzzled, and my voice rose instinctively.
“How do you manage to stand out more than someone all dolled up, even when you’re dressed so casually?”
I didn’t bother saying that if he really dressed up, he’d be so dazzling I might not be able to look at him straight.
At that, Alferen shook his head with a playful smile. “You’re just seeing me through rose-colored glasses, Delli.”
His words were so sincere, not a trace of pretense.
Ren, that’s exactly what makes you so dangerously charming.
It’s a universal truth that the most perilous people are the gorgeous ones who don’t realize how gorgeous they are.
In that sense, Alferen was currently in a very, very dangerous state.
His charm was somehow even more potent than usual.
I stole another glance, pretending not to.
The glimpse of his toned chest through the unbuttoned shirt.
The firm forearms exposed by his rolled-up sleeves.
I always knew he looked good in a suit, but really now.
“Someone like you, if you actually tried to dress up, there wouldn’t be a girl you couldn’t charm.”
So have some confidence.
Forget about that redheaded Nanael and go straight for Summer!
Then Alferen murmured, almost to himself, “Well… it hasn’t exactly worked out that way.”
