※ The words inside 「」 indicate a foreign language from the perspective of the Phaelon Empire.
*****
It was Taranese. And her pronunciation was even more flawless than that of the Marchioness of Chartier.
“「If you truly wish to have me as your lady-in-waiting, then bring me an imperial decree with the Emperor’s seal. Then, I will reconsider. Of course, I would refuse again.」”
Angela’s perfectly spoken Taranese left Anette momentarily speechless.
It wasn’t until a few moments later that she fully realized the gravity of the insult she had just received.
There was no greater form of disregard than this.
Even this girl—who had momentarily given her hope—was no different from the other Phaelon nobles. No, she looked down on her even more than any of them.
A wave of betrayal surged within Anette.
“「How insolent, Lady Bilton.」”
Anette scolded in a low voice, her glare sharp enough to pierce.
“「Isn’t it?」”
To Anette’s disbelief, Angela was still smiling. It was an innocent, pure expression, entirely devoid of malice.
“「Then choose someone else who is not insolent to be your lady-in-waiting. Perhaps Lady Falz or Lady Conrad.」”
Anette knew exactly who those girls were.
They were fledgling debutantes, barely having stepped into high society. Their timid bows and hesitant greetings had been endearing, but no empress would ever take such girls as her attendants.
Anette, who had been glaring at Angela, suddenly stood from her seat and descended the stairs.
The Marchioness of Chartier, startled, barely had time to follow before Anette reached Angela and rebuked her audacity in an aggressive tone.
“「No matter how high the Bilton name may stand, I am now your empire’s empress. How dare you act so arrogantly before me?」”
Angela did not immediately refute her.
Instead, she first glanced at the Marchioness of Chartier, who had belatedly arrived at Anette’s side. Then, taking a step closer to Anette, she leisurely opened her lips.
“「It seems the Marchioness of Chartier failed to translate properly, and so you have misunderstood. Your Highness, you are not yet the empress of my empire.」”
Her words, delivered with perfect eloquence, were brutally direct.
Anette whipped around to look at the Marchioness of Chartier.
The Marchioness lowered her head apologetically.
Anette let out a hollow laugh.
She felt utterly alone in the world, as if she had been dropped into a strange place where nothing made sense.
Had she known this would happen, she would have ignored all that talk about Phaelon’s imperial etiquette and at least brought along one of her own Taran maids.
“「Then I shall see you at the royal wedding, Your Highness. I sincerely welcome you to the Phaelon Empire.」”
Having finished her farewell, Angela gracefully turned and walked away, leaving a trembling Anette behind.
It wasn’t until Angela’s proud, retreating figure had completely vanished from sight that Anette became aware of the nobles’ gazes upon her.
For a fleeting moment, she felt relieved that the wretched girl knew how to speak Taranese.
And at the same time, she was ashamed of herself for thinking such a thing.
Her already smoldering pride was reduced to ashes, scattering into the void.
The entire banquet had felt like nothing more than a public exhibition of her shattered dignity.
Unless she became a deposed empress, she would have to live in this hell for the rest of her life.
It was like being trapped in a waking nightmare.
And that nightmare continued into the next day.
Angela had sent Anette a gift.
It was not uncommon for a noblewoman to send a present to the future empress.
But after what had happened at the banquet the night before, such an act was nothing short of suspicious.
Having heard from the Marchioness of Chartier about Angela Bilton’s usual behavior, Anette was certain that this was not an apology.
Even though she had been so cautious.
When Anette opened the box, she was momentarily struck speechless.
“「This…」”
Inside was a thick book.
“「This…!」”
It was a children’s dictionary—one that translated Phaelonese into Taranese.
“「That wretched girl…!」”
A furious flush crept up Anette’s neck, spreading across her entire face.
She immediately shouted for the Marchioness of Chartier to bring that Bilton girl before her at once.
But instead of obeying, the Marchioness only looked troubled.
Anette knew the reason.
As that insufferable Bilton girl had said, such a thing would require an imperial decree.
And the Emperor was not the kind of romantic who would hand over the daughter of his most loyal subject just to uphold his wife’s dignity.
Realizing this once again made Anette tremble with shame.
For days, she could hardly sleep, Angela’s ever-smiling face haunting her every time she closed her eyes.
From that day on, Anette devoted herself desperately to mastering Phaelonese, staying up night after night.
She refused to be humiliated ever again.
Especially not by that insufferable Angela.
—
“「I just had an amusing thought, Natalie.」”
Anette, who had been lost in the painful memories of her past, suddenly spoke.
She then ordered Natalie, the maid who had brought her news of Angela, to fetch the head lady-in-waiting, the Marchioness of Chartier.
“「Yes, Your Majesty. Please wait a moment.」”
Natalie answered energetically and bounced out of the room.
Seeing her enthusiasm, Anette could tell that the girl was excited—perhaps because it had been a long time since the empress had shown such keen interest in anything.
Most of the time, she hardly noticed Natalie.
But now, Anette suddenly recalled something about the young maid—
Natalie was none other than Lady Conrad, the very same name Angela had mentioned two years ago at the banquet.
She had forgotten because she always addressed her as Natalie, and because Baron Conrad had been granted an earldom at the beginning of the previous year.
The truth was, Anette had chosen her simply because she was one of the few remaining options after filtering out those who had seemed anxious about becoming a lady-in-waiting to an empress with no real power.
And yet, by sheer coincidence, it had aligned with Angela’s words.
“「What the hell. Now it feels like I copied her.」”
Anette felt strangely uneasy.
Angela had probably made that remark offhandedly, just to mock the new empress.
Under the table, Anette’s neatly placed foot lightly kicked at the floor.
Still, she had no intention of dismissing Natalie.
Back then, she had scoffed at Angela’s suggestion, thinking it ridiculous.
But in truth, Natalie was a rather competent lady-in-waiting.
Despite her young age, she had an exceptional talent for reading her mistress’s mood.
Whenever Anette was drowning in boredom, wilting like an unwatered flower, Natalie always worked tirelessly to cheer her up.
Furthermore, her father, Count Conrad, had grown into a formidable figure.
When Anette had chosen Natalie as her attendant, the Conrad family—who had no real connections in high society—had been so overwhelmed with gratitude that they had come in person to express their thanks.
That felt like only yesterday.
Yet now, Count Conrad had grown so influential that people whispered the western trade routes would collapse without him.
As a result, Anette’s own standing as empress had strengthened naturally.
The sheer increase in the gifts she received was proof enough.
So it no longer mattered what Angela had said back then.
It was just a passing remark—nothing more.
“「Then choose someone else who is not insolent to be your lady-in-waiting. Perhaps Lady Falz or Lady Conrad.」”
Anette shook her head, trying to dispel the echo of the past.
Knock, knock.
Just as Anette was trying to shake off her thoughts, a knock at the door provided a welcome distraction.
“「Your Majesty, it is the Marchioness of Chartier.」”
Anette immediately granted permission to enter.
However, the first person to peek in through the open door was not the Marchioness of Chartier.
Instead, it was Jane—the maid Anette trusted the most among all her attendants, even more than those recommended by Natalie and the Marchioness herself.
Jane Falz.
The moment Anette saw her round, cheerful face, her own expression began to contort.
The Marchioness of Chartier followed right behind and gasped in alarm upon seeing Anette’s reaction.
“「Your Majesty, is something the matter?」”
But before she could answer, Anette suddenly shot up from her seat, knocking over the chair. She pointed at herself with both hands, her face filled with shock.
“「W-What? What is this? Why am I doing exactly what that girl said?」”
Her voice was nearly a scream.
—
Lately, Angela had been in an unusually good mood.
And the reason? The disgustingly bitter medicine she was drinking at that very moment.
It was vile enough to make her question whether it was even meant for human consumption, but that wretchedly bitter medicine was the very first gift Kalian had ever sent her.
According to Mary, while Angela was unconscious, Kalian had been furious at Raymond, who had come to check on her condition.
“She’s fine. There are no serious issues. She’ll wake up as if nothing happened. Lady Angela has always been… like this, hasn’t she?”
It had all started when Raymond, after giving Angela only a cursory examination, had spoken so dismissively.
And then, to Mary’s great delight, she had eagerly begun imitating Kalian.
“Fine? You call this fine? How can someone being unconscious be considered fine? Doctor Heim, have you always examined the lady in this manner?”
Mary suddenly flinched and hunched her shoulders.
“T-That’s not what I meant…”
She was now playing the role of a flustered Raymond.
Angela chuckled at the absurdity of it all.
Encouraged, Mary straightened her shoulders with pride and resumed her reenactment of Kalian.
“If that’s not what you meant, then what did you mean? I heard this wasn’t the first time something like this has happened. As a physician, shouldn’t you at least make an effort to find the cause?”
Mary even mimicked Kalian’s sharp glare with impressive accuracy.
Intimidated, Doctor Heim had tried to step closer to Angela again, but Kalian had immediately stopped him, declaring,
“Doctor Heim, you have just lost my trust.”
“Kyaaaah!”
Mary had squealed in admiration, bouncing around the room as if the entire bedchamber might collapse.
“You have no idea how amazing the count was!” she gushed, her face flushed with excitement.
As a result, Kalian had dismissed Raymond and summoned his own personal physician to examine Angela.
Unlike Raymond, who had acted as if Angela was simply pretending to be ill, Kalian’s doctor had given a different diagnosis—her pulse was significantly weaker than that of an average person.
And the result of that diagnosis was this disgusting, utterly revolting medicine.
Even Kalian’s own physician had been astonished by the rare medicinal ingredients he had procured, wondering where on earth he had managed to find them.
But that wasn’t all.
Kalian had also sent a short letter along with the medicine.
“He sent a letter? Why?”
Angela’s expression hardened as she questioned the messenger who had brought it.
Had Kalian truly thought it was acceptable to send a mere letter instead of coming in person?
Perhaps the messenger had misunderstood her displeased tone because he quickly began explaining.
The count had been urgently summoned by an imperial decree and had to leave for another region immediately. He absolutely had not chosen to avoid coming to see her.
But that wasn’t what Angela had meant.
She was simply shocked by the fact that Kalian had written her a letter at all.
After dismissing the messenger, Angela carefully unfolded the letter in her hands.
She handled it as delicately as if it were something fragile.
[There is an apology I must give you, but I cannot bear to offer it while you are unconscious. So, I will take it back for now. I hope that when I return, I can deliver it to you in person while you are standing before me, safe and well.]
Kalian’s handwriting was nearly identical to Angela’s, as she had been the one to teach him to write.
That only made the letter feel more precious.
Angela kept it tucked beneath her pillow and found herself taking it out to read several times a day.
By now, she had practically memorized every single word.
Reciting it in her mind once more, Angela managed to swallow the last of the bitter medicine.
“Ughhh.”
She didn’t want to make a scene, but her facial muscles twisted involuntarily, as if she had swallowed poison.
“「Here, my lady! Quickly, eat this!」”
Seeing Angela shudder, Mary hurriedly popped a candy into her mouth.
This candy, too, had been sent by Kalian.
Perhaps that was why it tasted sweet even before it had fully melted on her tongue.
Angela rolled the small candy around in her mouth, sitting in silence.
For the first time in a long while, the chaotic whirlwind of her daily life felt strangely peaceful.
Even after encountering that wretched light in her dreams, she felt at ease.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, everything felt fine.
Letting the quiet day pass like a much-needed holiday, Angela found herself wishing for only one thing.
That Kalian would return soon.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
