TESL 10

Chapter 10

A very cold, stern voice came from behind me. Ah, I’m dead. I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again, forcing a timid smile as I turned to face Leni.

“Mother… Sister.”

Two pairs of sharp, glaring eyes fixed on me. They already looked alike, but seeing them glare with the exact same expression made it even scarier.

“What kind of day is it that you wander off from everyone without a care? What if something were to happen?”

The gentle smile my mother had shown me that morning was completely gone.

Instead, she stood with the full dignity of a noblewoman, shoulders squared, eyes sharp, and exuding elegance in every movement. She truly lived up to the title of a perfect lady.

“I’m sorry.”

I clasped my hands together in front of me, trying my best to look obedient.

At times like this, if I were foolish enough to try to speak casually to my mother, I would get scolded severely.

I slowly blinked, staring at my mother and sister. This was my secret weapon: the “childlike remorse” pose.

My mother’s expression softened the moment she looked at my face. It was as if she were silently saying, “How cute.”

At that moment, she slowly unfolded the sandalwood fan she was holding. Charrk, the soft sound of wood spreading echoed gently.

She waved the fan at me a couple of times, letting the breeze brush over me.

“…Aira, get yourself together. There are many people watching us. Don’t go anywhere, don’t speak carelessly, and stay away from those notorious gossipmongers.”

Her quiet voice landed in my ear, carried by the soft wind.

I shaped my lips as small as possible and lowered my voice, speaking softly so that others couldn’t eavesdrop.

I nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

When I didn’t nod or answer, my mother seemed satisfied, furrowed her brow slightly, and folded the fan with a crisp charrk.

Then—

“Your ladyship! Your ladyship! My, what a surprise!”

A high-pitched, boisterous voice carried from what seemed a hundred yards away. It was excessively dramatic, the kind that could even appear in dreams. It belonged to Madame Salenne, the Marchioness, a socialite well-known as a source of gossip.

“Wow, how convenient—she shows up right after Mother warns me to be careful?”

Sister Bianca’s expression froze for a moment, then quickly adjusted. Salenne was the ultimate gossip, after all.

To explain how much: it was said that all rumors in the social circle passed through Salenne’s lips.

Though many might dismiss her as just another chatterbox of high society, Madame Salenne was known for her dedication to verifying the rumors she spread. She stayed around, asked people questions, and ensured her information was accurate.

Naturally, the rumors she revealed were highly credible. Everyone found her loud but trusted her words.

As the number of people inconvenienced by her investigations grew, Salenne was openly admonished, but she never backed down and continued her pursuits.

She even knew the schedules of countless events, to the point that the Pacific Times newspaper in the capital officially enlisted her as a special advisor on high society matters.

In short, she was the last person we wanted to encounter at this moment.

Only my mother could face her without revealing even a shred of information. And my mother smiled warmly as she greeted her.

“…Let’s discuss your treatment at the estate later.”

Of course, she also whispered quickly to me through her teeth:

“Yes, you’re not off the hook yet.”

Sister Bianca shot me a glare. Pfft—Bianca, you’re not scary at all.

I darted my eyes around while Madame Salenne got dangerously close. Her round face glowed with excitement as usual, and her tiny, button-like eyes sparkled with liveliness.

When she was just a few steps away, my mother smiled gently at her.

“Madame Salenne.”

“My, my lady! This is Salenne, here to see the mistress of Wildenbiston. It’s been so long… since Lady Bianca married, hmm… three years, right?”

Lady Bianca, of course, was my sister. Salenne’s mention of “three years” subtly included me: “Your youngest daughter has kept me in suspense for three whole years!”

Sister Bianca’s eyebrows lifted. Her eyes were about to flash dangerously.

My mother stepped forward before Bianca could react. She maintained a calm expression, smiling gracefully as if she had just received high praise.

“Has it been that long? I thought we had been consistently attending imperial events. Even today, for instance. I expected you might oversleep today, Madame Salenne.”

As my mother spoke elegantly, waving her fan, Bianca quickly softened her expression, letting out a tiny, forced huh-huh. She smiled, but the sharpness in her eyes remained.

“What do you mean by that?”

Leni leaned toward me and whispered. I shook my head silently, shaping my lips into a small mhm to respond.

Normally, I would have been as puzzled as Leni, but now I understood what my mother meant.

I recalled what Brother Elphine had said when we met the Crown Prince earlier: only officials up to rank two in the imperial court had arrived early.

In other words, my mother had dismissed Madame Salenne politely: “You don’t have the rank to be here this early.”

In short: “What are you doing here, someone of your rank?”

In that instant, a flash of lightning seemed to appear behind my mother and Madame Salenne. Leni and I exchanged silent glances. Leni blinked.

‘I could never do this,’ she seemed to say.

‘Me neither.’

As we shared this silent understanding—

“Hoho, how could I be late to such a glorious gathering?”

Madame Salenne replied, feigning nonchalance, but her attempt to assert herself had no effect. The winner and loser were instantly clear.

“Indeed, it is a glorious occasion.”

My mother smiled softly again, but in my eyes, she looked like a tiger gripping a teddy bear by the neck.

How admirable… How long would it take me to become like her?

“By the way!”

At that moment, Madame Salenne flapped her hand dramatically again.

“By the way, have you heard, madame? The daughter of Baron Neymar is getting married to Count Tohofen’s heir!”

My mother’s smile momentarily faltered.

“…Married?”

“Yes. You probably know, but with the new emperor’s coronation today, many things are shifting. They’re doing it early so they won’t miss the timing.”

I averted my gaze instinctively. I knew why Madame Salenne had brought up this topic.

I knew the Baron Neymar’s daughter somewhat too—we were the same age, and we debuted at the same ball.

Recalling that debutante ball, I clenched my fists tightly without realizing it.

“A fine example of a noble family’s marriage, from debutante to wedding—how exemplary.”

“….”

My mother remained expressionless, softly waving her fan. Behind her, I could almost imagine the tiger again, shaking the teddy bear. Must be a trick of the mind.

“Anyway, considering family ties, noble responsibilities, and timing, they must proceed quickly. The bride is nineteen—perfectly appropriate, they said. Hoho!”

I understood immediately:

“Your youngest daughter, until now, has missed both potential suitors and the right time for marriage.”

My mother inhaled deeply. Madame Salenne’s tiny eyes lit up with delight, knowing her subtle attack had landed.

She, too, opened her fan with a flourish, as if to signal her counterattack…

“Shouldn’t the next heir come from the family? Nineteen is just the right age, don’t you agree? Anyway, you’ll attend the wedding, won’t you?”

I glanced anxiously at my sister and mother. Even without knowing social etiquette, I could tell what was happening.

Then my mother opened her sandalwood fan once more, deliberately.

“…I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to see the invitation first. Don’t make your decision before receiving it, madame.”

Madame Salenne’s face twisted horribly at my mother’s words. It was obvious what my mother meant:

“Wait for the invitation. I don’t know if you’ll even get one. If you show up, I won’t attend.”

Unable to maintain her smile, she faced my mother’s unwavering gaze. Everyone nearby—watching us—gasped silently.

Madame Salenne, a noisy and meddlesome socialite, had met her match. My mother had openly compared their ranks.

While the married families could choose, the result was clear: which house would prevail—the one with the established noble lineage and influence, or the one stirring trouble with gossip?

The answer was obvious.

Still, my mother’s response was sharper than usual. Such social warfare rarely ended so decisively, leaving me more nervous than ever.

I huddled further, fingers nervously intertwining.