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Chapter 15
“Since the young master is already perfect, instead of practicing walking, it would be better if you worked on rhetoric problems.”
“Yes, understood.”
At Jeril’s words, Calib responded stiffly.
“And Lady Ellia, you and I will begin first with correcting your posture and gait.”
“Ah, yes.”
Though Ellia looked at Jeril with a faint wariness, she obediently followed her instruction.
“Then, please step this way and… for now, just walk comfortably around the room.”
Even though Jeril had told her to walk comfortably, Ellia moved stiffly, as if bracing herself to not give Jeril any excuse to criticize her.
But to Jeril, it was full of flaws.
Jeril thought to herself,
As expected. A lowborn’s walk is vulgar right from the start.
For a brief moment, disdain flickered across her green eyes.
And yet, with such a crude gait, she dares to stroll through the Grand Duke’s residence and enjoy the privilege of taking lessons from me?
Jeril found Ellia utterly distasteful, but forced a smile onto her lips.
At the same time, she recalled the conversation she’d had with her father the previous evening.
“Treat that lowborn well.”
“…What?”
Jeril had blinked, unsure she’d heard him correctly.
But Renald had repeated it, telling her to be genuinely kind to Ellia.
“The girl is a commoner. She’s used to being looked down upon, but being treated well will be foreign to her. Where could a lowborn ever have received courtesy?”
“That’s…”
“To scorn someone already despised does no damage at all. But to show them favor—that is different.”
“So you’re telling me to flatter that commoner?”
“I’m telling you that if you want to strike, do it when your opponent is defenseless. And if you appear kind even to a lowborn, how much more admirable will others find you?”
It made a certain sense, and Jeril had listened quietly.
Renald had soothed her like a child.
“Listen well, Jeril. You can turn this crisis into an opportunity.”
“An opportunity?”
“Yes. If you must teach, then do it properly. Especially in front of the young master.”
Renald had lowered his voice, as if every word was calculated.
“But no matter how hard you teach, can that lowborn truly keep up with you?”
“Of course not! She won’t even know the basics!”
“Exactly. Then won’t that comparison be inevitable? A perfect marquis’ daughter against a worthless commoner.”
“Ah…”
“The lowborn will wonder: ‘She’s teaching me so kindly, again and again, so why can’t I do it?’”
That doubt would fester into inferiority.
And in turn, Ellia would hate herself for feeling jealousy toward Jeril, who treated her kindly.
“While the lowborn reveals her ugly heart more and more, you will remain noble and beautiful in spirit.”
The Grand Duke’s heir would inevitably compare the two and make his judgment.
Renald had whispered,
“Seize that opening to demonstrate your perfection. In the process, you might even brainwash the young master completely—make him your puppet.”
“Once that lowborn is cast out, it’ll only be a matter of time.”
Her father’s words still rang in Jeril’s ears.
And as always, she had nodded first—because if Father said it, it must be so.
Her green eyes, clouded with thought, regained their brightness.
Jeril watched Ellia finish a lap around the room, and put on her kindest smile.
“Hmm… May I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“Your walk is not graceful.”
Ellia’s expression didn’t change.
As expected. I’d already braced myself for harsh criticism.
What puzzled Ellia wasn’t Jeril’s words, but why Jeril was being gentle with her at all—something that hadn’t happened in the original story.
So she simply gave a calm look in response.
Unaware of Ellia’s thoughts, Jeril marveled inwardly.
Just as Father said! She’s so used to being scorned, she doesn’t even flinch at my remark.
If Jeril herself had been told such a thing, she would have burned with shame.
Jeril glanced at Calib.
Now that he had seen Ellia’s clumsy steps, it was time for Jeril to display her own elegance.
Even a child’s eyes would notice the difference.
As her father said, Calib would surely be disappointed in Ellia for not keeping up with Jeril.
Thinking this, Jeril smiled brightly, stepped forward, and stood beside Ellia.
“Let me demonstrate. If you walk like me—no, even half as well—you’ll never be embarrassed in public.”
Jeril, face full of pride, glided flawlessly across the room.
She lingered especially near the sofa where Calib sat.
Ellia, curious about how Jeril’s walk differed from her own, watched closely.
But as Jeril continued parading around endlessly, Ellia frowned in confusion.
What’s she doing?
Surely she had shown enough of a demonstration. Shouldn’t she now correct Ellia’s stance and guide her?
But Jeril seemed to think otherwise.
Like a model on a runway, she occasionally paused before a mirror, then circled around Calib again, striking elegant expressions.
After nearly ten minutes of this, Calib finally spoke.
“Teacher.”
Jeril trotted over quickly, resting on one knee, smiling brightly.
“Oh my, what a surprise! The young master actually found a problem he couldn’t solve? Well then, I’ll give you a hint.”
Her sweet voice was so saccharine it made even Ellia’s ears itch across the room.
But Calib, used to it, simply shook his head.
“No, the question isn’t difficult.”
“Then what is it?”
Jeril asked kindly. Calib answered plainly.
“It’s distracting.”
“…Pfft.”
Ellia, unable to stop herself, burst out laughing from where she sat.
Jeril froze, staring at Calib in disbelief, before he calmly returned to solving his problems.
She sat there, smiling stiffly, as if she hadn’t quite processed what she’d just heard.
Then slowly, realization—and rage—sank in.
He… he called me distracting? After watching my perfect walk, all he thought was that it was distracting?
She could hardly bear the humiliation.
But he was the young master of the Grand Duke’s house. She couldn’t lash out at him.
So her anger turned toward Ellia, who had dared laugh.
You laughed?
Jeril straightened, forcing a smile at Ellia, who still had traces of a smile on her lips.
“I’m glad you seem more relaxed now.”
“Huh? Ah… well, yes.”
Ellia replied, suppressing another laugh.
Jeril clenched her fists quietly.
How dare a lowborn laugh at me!
She had been taught that the gap between nobility and commoners was as wide as heaven and earth.
Yet this girl at the very bottom had dared mock her.
Barely restraining her fury, Jeril kept her voice sweet.
“Then let’s continue the lesson, shall we? Now that you’re relaxed, we can be a bit more serious.”
“Ah… yes.”
Ellia sensed Jeril was planning something, though she didn’t know what form it would take.
Keeping her face calm, she waited.
Soon Jeril turned, still smiling, and called to the maid waiting outside.
“Bring the shoes, please.”
* * *
Damn it.
I admit it.
I was careless.
And I was stupid.
Gritting my teeth, I looked down at my swollen, scraped feet.
They were so raw with blood and pus that I couldn’t even wear shoes—I was barefoot.
Leaning on Calib’s support, I barely managed to make it back.
“Lady Ellia—what on earth…?”
Olivia gasped, springing up in alarm.
“W-what happened to you?”
She blinked in disbelief.
I had left perfectly fine, only to return bleeding and limping. Of course she was shocked.
“Hahaha, just a little accident. Oh, and the corridor outside is dirty now. Someone should clean it.”
At my words, Olivia glanced down at the floor—and paled.
“Good heavens, blood…!”
She clapped a hand over her mouth. Calib quickly intervened.
“Forget cleaning. Call the doctor first.”
“Ah, yes! At once!”
Olivia snapped to attention and rushed out.
Calib pulled out a chair.
“Ellia, sit here.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Dragging my injured feet, I collapsed into the chair.
“Ugh…”
The raw skin stung so badly I couldn’t help but groan.
“It hurts, doesn’t it? I’ll cast a spell to dull the pain.”
Calib crouched, examining my bleeding feet with a worried face.
I felt embarrassed, but thanks to his magic, the burning pain eased considerably.
He clicked his tongue.
“I never thought… you’d try to adapt to new shoes all at once.”
“Tell me about it.”
I gave a hollow laugh, recalling Jeril’s cruelty.
