Chapter 27
Stella, her innocent eyes opened wide, looked a little flustered before she finally approached me.
Maybe it was because she’d become overly cautious in her movements, but the door behind her was left slightly ajar.
If someone passed by the hallway in front of the powder room, they would easily hear the entirety of our conversation.
There’s no way the heroine would purposely leave the door open, so I suppose this must be a coincidence.
No… it feels too suspicious to brush off just because she’s the heroine.
Didn’t something similar happen at the last banquet?
Once or twice could be chalked up to chance, but if it happens a third or fourth time, then I’ll certainly need to talk properly with Stella.
Once I made that decision, my mind cooled down.
So, what should I do about that door?
Telling her to shut it would be strange. That’s the kind of command you give to a maid, not a noble lady.
Well, not that there’s anything in our conversation that could cause trouble anyway.
I wasn’t planning to bully her or pick a fight.
When I turned slightly from the mirror, Stella, who had been hesitating her way toward me, quickly bowed.
“L-Lady Martyr… um, a peaceful night to you…?”
“That’s something you say when parting, my lady.”
“Ah…!”
Stella’s pale face immediately turned red.
It was probably from embarrassment, though I couldn’t quite understand why.
It has already been months since Stella fell in love with Raymond and began melting into noble society.
Before that, she practically lived like a commoner — I understand it must be hard to get used to things.
But still, not being able to memorize even a few greetings after several months… that’s a matter of personal effort, isn’t it?
I heard there’s a country where customary greetings change every month — she’d probably lose her title within a week if she lived there.
While thinking such nonsense, I quietly observed her.
Before long, Stella gently touched her flushed cheek and spoke.
“…As expected, someone like me — a rustic little baron’s daughter — shouldn’t be at Raymond’s side. It should be someone suited for noble society, like Lady Martyr. If you hadn’t corrected me… I would’ve continued dreaming pointless dreams.”
“What? Lady Aer, what are you talking about…?”
“As you know, the Aer family is so humble it’s hardly worth calling noble. We’re barely different from commoners.”
Her expression as she said that held clear bitterness.
Seeing her face made words I had never spoken feel as if they had become reality.
All I did was correct a greeting — yet somehow it now looked like I had taken the initiative to criticize her origins.
If anyone saw this scene right now, they would confidently testify that I was the one bullying her, no matter what excuse I made.
That’s how pitiful Stella looked.
If someone ever asked me to describe a tragic heroine… I would describe Stella’s face exactly as it looked right now.
But admiration aside, I had a very real reason to escape this situation.
I’ve been alone for quite a while. Other young ladies will soon come by for a break. If a third party sees this and reports it incorrectly to Raymond, then my future will be nothing short of a runaway train speeding down the Autobahn of despair.
Raymond still refused to believe I’d given up on him.
If someone fed him such wildly wrong information, his delusion would only become more irreversible.
My life is at stake here — but above all, his misunderstanding is just incredibly annoying!
Holding my throbbing head, I spoke to trembling Stella.
“Lady Aer, did I say anything that could cause such a misunderstanding?”
“…Huh?”
“All I did was correct a greeting. I have absolutely zero — not even a rat dropping’s worth — of interest in your or Raymond’s dignity.”
At my firm words, confusion crossed Stella’s face.
Well, if someone who had always glared with bloodshot eyes and waited for chances to torment you suddenly declared a change of heart, you wouldn’t believe it either.
If anything, you’d suspect they took a step back only to deliver worse pain later.
And truly, this all stemmed from the original Evgenia being utterly obsessed with Raymond.
Even my father — who would believe me if I said I made miso out of green beans — didn’t take my declaration seriously.
Simply put, karma.
I sighed and was about to speak again to ease her worries when—
“Ah, I understand now, my lady.”
“What? Understand what…?”
This time, I was the confused one.
Stella, having tidied her expression, now looked like someone who had reached a private epiphany.
Determination shone in her glittering eyes, and her chin trembled slightly.
Just like a protagonist facing adversity in a story…
“You wish for Raymond’s honor to be tarnished because of me, don’t you?”
“…Excuse me?”
“O-of course! I can’t match your perfect refinement right away, but still…”
Her eyes reddened slightly as she spoke with new resolve.
“I’ll do my best. For Raymond.”
“No, that’s not—”
“Then I’ll take my leave, Lady Evgenia Martyr.”
She bowed with perfect form — except for her hands, which trembled uncontrollably.
It felt like watching one of those ‘scenes’ where love helps the heroine overcome her fear of Evgenia.
Her misunderstanding had only grown worse, so I stood up to stop her.
“Lady Aer!”
With a desperate shout, I barely managed to catch her wrist when—
Bang—
“Stella!”
Of all timings, how could he appear right now? Why was this bastard here?
They say when you’re too shocked, your body freezes.
I was experiencing that firsthand.
Is this some kind of protagonist buff?
A bitter laugh escaped me.
Perhaps all my struggling is just meaningless before the world’s beloved protagonist.
I glared coldly at the rude man who had thrown open the powder room door with both hands.
“Young Lord Raymond Larson. This is a powder room reserved for ladies. Even Count Kandré, the host of this banquet, wouldn’t dare enter. For you to barge in… it must mean the matter is extremely urgent, correct?”
“…That’s…”
“Is the ballroom on fire? Has a murder occurred? Or perhaps His Majesty the Emperor has arrived?”
Raymond’s mouth shut tight under my barrage.
No matter how urgent, barging in without knocking was an absolute taboo at a banquet.
Had he not hesitated the moment after entering, I might not have had this chance to scold him.
If it were before, he would’ve immediately pulled Stella into his arms and shoved me aside, then cursed me whether I fell or not…
If the scene had been even slightly ambiguous, I’d understand.
But from that brief sight, it would inevitably look like I was bullying Stella — she trembling with red eyes, and me gripping her wrist with a harsh expression.
Something is off. What on earth is happening with Raymond?
I felt the question rising, but now wasn’t the time.
I calmly released Stella’s wrist and spoke casually.
“Calling a future fiancée alone to the ballroom is unwise, young lord. Perhaps you should escort her properly.”
“Martyr.”
“You forgot ‘Lady,’ young lord. Your manners were proven atrocious the moment you entered — no need to demonstrate further.”
As soon as I finished, Raymond and Stella exchanged glances.
Whatever passed between them was none of my concern.
I stepped between them to leave the powder room when—
“…What do you think you’re doing, young lord?”
Raymond grabbed my passing wrist, hesitating as he opened his mouth.
When I tried to pull away, he tightened his grip — hard enough that it might leave a bruise.
I frowned involuntarily from the pain.
I opened my mouth to retort, but someone beat me to it.
“Raymond, it’s all my fault!”
A bright, ringing voice — the heroine.
