9. Even If I Have to Become the Crazy Lady of This District (7)
There were circular tables set up at the outdoor competition venue according to the number of candidates, and in front of each table stood a supervising official. I walked toward where Elika was stationed. Even from afar, she was unmistakable—exuding the strict air of a disciplinary teacher.
That aura of hers was why everyone feared her. Even in my past life, though I never showed it, I was no exception.
“Today’s competition task is…”
I already knew what Elika was going to say. The task for today was to identify types of tea. After saying that, she would hand me a cup and tell me to guess the kind of tea. So before she could finish, I cut her off.
“I’m thirsty. I’d like to have a cup of tea first.”
Elika’s face stiffened. My behavior was certainly lacking in decorum, but it wasn’t quite rude enough to be outright offensive. After all, it’s not a grave insult for a truly thirsty person to ask for a cup of tea.
Of course, I should have added, “if I may,”—but I deliberately didn’t. That omission was enough to sour Elika’s mood.
I felt a small pang of guilt. I had annoyed her just to shave off a few points from my own score.
I should probably apologize to her once the exams are over.
Though clearly irritated, Elika managed to mask her emotions with practiced grace and poured me a cup of tea. I then chugged it down in one go, just like a construction worker gulping down ice water on a hot day, and slammed the empty cup back on the table.
Ack—hot…
And then, I let out a big, loud burp.
“Buurp—”
A young lady letting out a burp after drinking tea in a competition? Unthinkable.
Elika’s eyes contorted in horror.
Forget the competition—a young lady burping after tea would be enough to cause a scandal in any refined social circle.
And Elika wasn’t the only one who heard it. In the quiet competition hall, my crude burp echoed like a ripple through still water. Everyone turned to look at me, stunned.
I gave a triumphant smile.
Now no one would say anything nice about me ever again.
After today, people would be too busy mocking me for burping during the competition to say anything complimentary.
Elika, who had finally calmed herself, leaned in and sniffed my cup, suspecting I had been drinking alcohol instead of tea. But of course, it was unmistakably just tea. Once she confirmed it with her own nose, she stared at me in disbelief.
Even someone as composed as her was starting to show cracks in her poise whenever she looked at me. Maintaining grace was hard when faced with a person like me.
“Lady Vanity. You do know how to properly drink tea, don’t you?”
“I just have a habit of gulping when I’m really thirsty…”
I didn’t have any such habit. In fact, tea etiquette was one of the things I had trained in so thoroughly that even if someone woke me from sleep and handed me tea, I’d drink it more gracefully than anyone else.
“It… It’s a biological reaction, I suppose.”
Elika stammered, took out a handkerchief to wipe her cold sweat, and after clearing her throat a few times, asked,
“Do you know what kind of tea you just drank?”
Of course I did.
It was artichoke tea—an almost scentless tea with a faint earthy flavor. It was expensive, unaffordable for commoners, but practically drinking water for nobles.
But I had no intention of answering correctly, so I named a different tea.
“It’s bergamot tea.”
Elika looked confused that I’d miss such an obvious question.
“What made you think that?”
“Because that’s how it tasted to me.”
My answer was so confident that Elika was left speechless for a moment. But she wasn’t the type to stay stunned for long. She quickly composed herself and leaned in slightly toward me.
A subtle movement—but a clear warning.
“Lady Vanity. From the last test to this one, your attitude toward the exams has seemed disturbingly unserious. I thought it was just my imagination, but clearly it’s not. For someone from a noble family to not recognize a tea as common as this one? That makes no sense. I don’t know why you’re playing games, but don’t drag me into them. I won’t tolerate it.”
She looked genuinely furious this time. Considering her personality, it was understandable—she would have a hard time tolerating a young lady acting so unhinged.
But I didn’t care. I planned to catch a cold from the rain and skip the remaining tests under the excuse of illness, so no point pretending anymore.
After that, I answered the rest of the questions correctly and showed Elika a serious demeanor.
That way, even if I ended up drenched in rain, she wouldn’t suspect me of anything else.
As expected, the rain came. Deliatia and most of the young ladies had listened to my earlier advice and were using parasols, so they didn’t get wet.
While the others stayed calm and continued the exam, I watched Elika run inside the building, and I remained outside, standing still.
“Lady Vanity! Come inside quickly! At least wait under shelter until your parasol arrives!”
My jaw trembled, but I stayed put in the rain. I had to get soaked so I could use the cold as an excuse.
Lumina, who had ignored my advice, and Rosalie, who had believed in me, both stood in the rain too. Servants eventually came with parasols, but by then, we were all drenched.
This was a competition, after all. None of the other young ladies invited us under their parasols. They simply focused on their own performance. For once, the cold, ruthless nature of competition was working in my favor.
Though the parasols eventually arrived, I was already soaked to the bone. I shivered throughout the rest of the event, trying to complete the tests—but with my body temperature rapidly dropping, I couldn’t finish. I really did catch a cold and had to be taken to the palace infirmary.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just Rosalie and me.
Lumina, who had stubbornly joined us out of spite, also caught a cold.
Such an unwanted ally.
“Achoo!”
“Stop sneezing already, Vanity! Achoo!”
“L-Lumina, you’re the one sneezing the most! A-Achoo!”
“I can’t sleep with all this noise!”
Even under blankets, my limbs were trembling from the cold. Getting soaked in September rain will do that. And in the infirmary, the sound of sneezing echoed nonstop—if I wasn’t sneezing, Rosalie and Lumina were.
Finally, I asked Lumina the question I’d been holding back.
“Why were you even standing in the rain with us?”
“You think I’m stupid? Like you two would stand there in the rain for no reason?”
Ugh. Lumina, really.
The Ascandars were a viscount family that governed a small territory. But they had managed it well, expanded it, and discovered a coal mine. Their wealth exploded, and the family rose in rank—eventually earning a duchy.
Because of that, many noble girls like Rosalie looked down on Lumina’s family, viewing them as nouveau riche.
As a result, Lumina had an inferiority complex about being the daughter of a ‘vulgar upstart’ family.
It was uncomfortable to be stuck in the palace infirmary with them, but at least now I had an excuse to skip the rest of the tests.
At least, that’s what I believed.
But why did things keep going wrong?
My reputation soared sky-high once again—this time, with another weird title attached.
“The Three Young Ladies Who Stood Their Ground in the Rain During the Competition.”
That label clung to the three of us.
Meanwhile, the other girls—who hadn’t offered us even a single corner of their parasols—were being criticized for their coldness.
This was the public opinion in Reinos:
“No matter how important the competition is, it’s disgraceful that no one offered their umbrella when fellow candidates were standing out in the rain! We don’t want a crown princess with no compassion!”
“A young lady who stood her ground in the rain—now that’s someone who understands the suffering of the people!”
And so, everything spiraled out of control again.
Though it wasn’t my intention, Lumina took pride in her foresight and grumbled smugly.
“I knew something was up. That’s why I stayed.”
Her bluntness had given her a reputation as the most aggressive woman in high society—but her mistrust of us had inadvertently improved her own image too.
I really didn’t want to live this life as a Karzan woman again. So why do things keep going wrong?
Maybe it was my now-infamous fashionista status.
In the end, Lumina, Rosalie, and I were chosen as the final three candidates for the prince’s fiancée. Just like in my past life.
Not a single thing had changed.
“Vanity! I knew you’d be one of the finalists. After all we’ve invested in you! Right, dear?”
Still suffering from my cold, I lay in bed, wrapped tightly in blankets, my jaw trembling. I had gone through all that trouble—only to get sick.
“You wouldn’t believe the rumors going around! Everyone’s saying you’re the perfect crown princess—compassionate, understanding, beloved by the people!”
My whole body ached from the fever, but my mother and Tasha made me feel even worse.
“Mother, please let me rest. Tasha, you too—leave me alone.”
Gripping the blanket tightly, I shivered and began planning again.
