96. The Uninvited Guest

The banquet was teeming with nobles. Although the separate palace was large, the number of attendees was far greater than those at other banquets held on different days.

It was difficult to keep my eyes open amid the myriad of lavish dresses and glittering jewels.

The reflections from the lighting made the jewels sparkle, causing my eyes to hurt. When I closed my eyes, the mingled and mottled scent of various perfumes filled the air.

Chandeliers hung throughout the hall. To create an intimate atmosphere, only the center was brightly lit, with no lighting near the walls.

This left the terraces along the walls shrouded in darkness, providing a place for private, secret meetings behind the curtains.

The murmurs of lovers could be heard from each terrace. Feeling embarrassed, I moved away from the terraces and leaned against a wall.

I looked around. I didn’t see any familiar faces. Although I wasn’t well-acquainted in high society, I considered this a blessing.

I was currently under the stigma of being a fake mistress. Rather than become a subject of gossip, it was better to quietly enjoy the music and then return to the mansion.

People might either mock me for pretending to be a mistress or pity me for foolishly believing I was a beloved lover. Neither scenario was desirable.

As I continued to survey the hall, I spotted Isella in the distance.

The rumors about Elizabeth’s poor health seemed true; Isella’s smile wasn’t as radiant as usual. Her eyes appeared slightly red and puffy. Despite this, she still greeted the approaching nobles warmly and responded with politeness.

One noble, who had been sharing a glass of champagne with her, bowed and moved to another spot. I thought it might be a good time to approach her. She was catching her breath after finishing her conversation.

“Isel…”

I started to call out to her but stopped mid-step.

An odd sense of familiarity washed over me. Her attire seemed strangely familiar.

Even though it was the first time I had seen her today, it felt like I had seen this scene before.

I watched her closely. She was greeting a noble and extending her hand.

The more I looked, the clearer it became. Then, certainty dawned on me.

The fabric folded neatly in the box. The gift Deon had given me.

And now, the black dress I had worn hastily with the maids’ help…

Isella was wearing the exact same dress as mine.

Instead of calling out to her, I naturally picked up a glass from a tray held by a servant nearby. I leaned against the wall of the hall, watching her as I slowly turned. I tried not to stare blatantly, but it was hard to take my eyes off her as she stood there, receiving greetings with a smile.

The more I looked, the clearer it became.

The wrinkles on the collar, the translucent waist details, and the rows of pearls from the neck down to the waist. Even the subtle black shell embellishments that became visible when she tilted her head down to hold the hem of her skirt were identical.

What is going on here?

I was utterly dumbfounded.

Deon had personally chosen this dress. What shop’s madam would dare give the same dress to another lady, especially for an important banquet? Care was usually taken to ensure designs didn’t overlap.

It was too much to be a mere coincidence.

If it had been another lady, I might have let it go. But she was Isella Snowa. Despite rumors of a rift, her family and Deon’s remained closely allied. She was Deon’s fiancée.

Realizing she wore a dress identical to mine made me feel like I had turned to stone.

The glass in my hand tilted. The cold champagne spilled onto my shoe, jolting me back to my senses. I almost lost control and spilled the entire glass.

Champagne dripped down the glass’s surface and bubbled on the floor. Droplets splashed onto the carpet.

I rubbed the carpet with the toe of my shoe, but the quickly absorbed stain wouldn’t come out.

Isella hadn’t noticed me; she continued greeting nobles. Unfamiliar laughter and conversation buzzed around me, filling my ears.

I turned my gaze to find Deon. He stood far from Isella, surrounded by key officials.

Suppressing my pounding heart, I steadied the champagne glass and refocused on Isella.

Standing under the bright lights, she was dazzling.

Her half-up hairdo, decorated with a pin, shimmered with every turn of her head.

I thought it looked familiar, and it was. The same decoration was sparkling atop my head.

Even the butterfly-shaped hair clip was the same. It was blatant mimicry.

Of course, it wouldn’t be Isella doing the imitating, but the vulgar mistress coveting the main wife’s position.

I had heard from the maids that such scenes weren’t rare. Historically, emperors and high nobles always had mistresses.

Mistresses were usually younger and more beautiful than the main wives. Sometimes, they would secretly inquire about dress designs at shops and wear similar dresses to spite the wives.

The reason a mistress would choose the same dress was simple. To flaunt her superior beauty and youthful allure, even in the same attire.

It was a low and disrespectful act, the petty scheme of a lower-status mistress.

But my appearance didn’t provide the desired effect. I wasn’t more beautiful or noticeably younger than her.

Still, anyone seeing me now would misunderstand and think I was copying her.

I sighed.

It was fortunate I hadn’t mingled with the nobles and was standing alone.

Luckily, I hadn’t entered with Deon or danced, avoiding the eyes of others.

If I had been with Deon or hadn’t noticed the identical dress before calling out to her…

I would have been surrounded by people constantly comparing and gossiping about us.

It was a good thing I had made the excuse of being unable to dance due to an injured foot.

Was this the plan from the start?

The thought struck me suddenly.

I recalled the knight blocking the gate, Deon coming down to the separate residence to give me this dress.

It was a dress Deon had personally selected. There must have been an intent behind it.

Moreover, although I had let the maids handle the hairpin, the usual protocol before attending a banquet was to choose from various accessories laid out beforehand.

It seemed like he had planned it, knowing that I wouldn’t refuse the maids’ suggestions. He must have predicted that I wouldn’t be picky about the accessories and would leave it to the maids.

Even though the handmade hairpin was a luxury item, the one in Isella’s hair was identical to mine, down to the pearl-encrusted design.

It was as if they had been commissioned from the same artisan, matching in color and size.

What was he thinking?

A chill ran down my spine. Cold sweat trickled down my back.

I had no intention of standing out at this banquet, and he ensured I couldn’t. It was obvious the dress was meant to target me since I was the one who wouldn’t step forward.

“Deon. What were you thinking…”

He was smiling at the officials.

What was so amusing?

Even though it was just a social smile, it looked far from pleasant to me.

Why invite me here just to leave me standing like a mannequin? What did you want to show?

I hadn’t drunk anything, but my stomach churned. The questions that had been bubbling up inside me were now overflowing.

I glanced towards the terrace. The reflection in the transparent glass showed the image of a mistress being mocked.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

I quietly retreated, not wanting to attract any attention. I wanted to sink into the floor like a shadow, to bury myself in the darkness and escape the lingering shame.

I pressed myself against the wall, watching them from a distance.

Even while putting me in such an awkward position, they continued to smile.

I yanked the pin from my hair, letting my locks fall.

Covering my flushed cheeks with my hair, I slipped out of the hall.

* * *

I leaned against a tree, bending over and gasping for breath. The tight dress constricted my chest and waist with its laces. I had felt suffocated before, but now it was unbearable.

I gagged and then filled my empty lungs with air. The cold air was refreshing.

In the tall maze garden, the sound of insects chirping filled the air. I sat down, leaning against the well-trimmed grass. The hedges, taller than a person, provided good cover.

“Where did she go? She was in the hall just a moment ago.”

I was calming my breath when I heard a woman’s voice from the other side.

Peeking through the bushes, I saw a knight in white pants and light armor searching for someone.

I crouched lower and held my breath. The knight’s cloak bore the crest of a duke’s house—Deon’s knight.

“We lost her. I told you we should have increased our numbers. If the lord finds out, we’ll be in for it.”

The woman grumbled softly.

“She can’t have gone far. You check over there. I’ll look around the garden.”

“If you find her, signal. We must find her. Don’t forget why we’re here.”

The four knights split up with military precision.

What was odd was that among Deon’s knights, there was also a man in a different armor. The scabbard and the cloak draped over his shoulder bore the blue-embroidered deer insignia.

The Snowa family. Why were they looking for me along with Deon’s knights? I had never heard of the two families combining their forces.