Chapter 17
However, Uncle didn’t seem to care at all and was busy drinking his tea.
As the young ladies began chatting more actively, Uncle, looking utterly bored, started smashing the cake in front of him.
The problem was that the First Princess was watching him.
Uncle, please!
I quietly tapped my foot in frustration.
But Uncle seemed oblivious to the fact that the First Princess was observing him and continued crushing the cake with single-minded focus.
It was at that anxious moment that the First Princess, who had been quiet all along, spoke toward him.
“This seat seems terribly boring, Lady Lockwood.”
The young ladies’ gazes immediately turned toward Uncle, who was busy smashing the cake.
Seeing them start to whisper and snicker, I tapped my foot again nervously.
From here on, I knew what would happen.
The First Princess’s provocation was about to begin in earnest.
Could Uncle endure it?
“Of course. A gathering without gentlemen for Lady Lockwood must be nothing more than a boring social event, right?”
She was openly belittling him, implying he was unsophisticated.
“I understand. You must be very busy weighing the Duke and my brother in your hands, yes?”
The First Princess smiled sweetly as she continued, and one by one, the other young ladies chimed in.
“Still, showing such blatant boredom… wouldn’t that make her seem uncultured and shallow?”
“Lady Lockwood is especially close to the gentlemen. Depending on the observer, it may not look very proper.”
“Ah, so that’s why you have no friends among the young ladies.”
The young ladies giggled and openly mocked Uncle.
Uncle, having put down the fork he’d been using to smash the cake, glanced around the room once.
I was worried about what he might do next when—
The young lady sitting right next to Uncle knocked the teapot on the table.
Crash—!
The teapot fell toward Uncle, soaking his dress completely.
“Oh my!”
The young lady covered her mouth apologetically, but from my vantage point, I could clearly see the wide grin on her face.
And that act of tipping the teapot? Totally intentional!
Uncle stared at his soaked dress for a moment and then stood up.
Creak—.
The chair slid back eerily.
I braced myself, ready to jump to his aid.
“You forgot your apology,” Uncle said, suppressing his anger.
The veins on his forehead stood out, probably because he was desperately holding back his fury.
In the original story, Beatrice couldn’t say a word and only blushed in shame—but could Uncle really behave like this? I was worried.
Still, I couldn’t interfere while he was controlling himself.
Poor Beatrice, being so blatantly ostracized.
“Well, what apology? The dress is wet, but that’s all, right? Your face isn’t wet.”
The young lady who’d tipped the teapot nodded brazenly.
Two more veins appeared on Uncle’s forehead.
He clenched his fists and trembled.
At that moment, an attendant loudly announced:
“His Highness the Crown Prince!”
At the same time, the young ladies’ gazes turned to the garden entrance.
A blond man, radiant in the sunlight, approached.
All the young ladies stood up shyly to greet him, but the Crown Prince ignored everyone except Uncle and walked straight toward him.
“Beatrice, how’s your health?”
With the Crown Prince’s attention, all eyes turned to Uncle.
Uncle, still restraining his anger, glared at the young lady with bloodshot eyes.
“Looking as lovely as ever today,” said the oblivious Crown Prince, busy complimenting Beatrice.
He was so ridiculous—did he not even realize what was happening?
Despite the Crown Prince’s praise, Uncle remained silent, prompting the young ladies to whisper again.
Uncle, respond! At least greet him!
He gritted his teeth and gave a perfunctory nod.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”
I nearly lost it.
Such rudeness toward the Crown Prince—any other noble would have fainted on the spot.
But the Crown Prince looked at Uncle with a delighted smile, as if charmed.
The power of a 100% affection stat, indeed.
Feeling slightly relieved, I anxiously signaled to Uncle by shaking a nearby tree.
Uncle, smile! Pretty smile!
He narrowed his eyes at the fluttering leaves and looked in my direction.
Did he notice my signal?
I watched him anxiously.
And Uncle…
Curved his lips into a smile that looked like it had come straight from hell.
Insane.
I flinched at Uncle’s expression—and so did the Crown Prince.
Uncle’s smile—or rather, his kind of intimidation—was that powerful.
If the Crown Prince, with his maximum affection, flinched, imagine how intense it was.
I shook the tree again, signaling, silently pleading:
Just don’t laugh, Uncle.
Then…
The Crown Prince’s gaze shifted from Uncle to me.
I froze, realizing his eyes were heading straight for me.
Please don’t notice…
I swallowed hard, but thankfully, his gaze quickly moved away.
So I hadn’t been caught.
“But why is Beatrice’s dress wet?”
At the Crown Prince’s question, the young lady who tipped the teapot tensed up.
Uncle opened his mouth to speak, but the First Princess preempted him.
“I accidentally spilled the teapot. I apologized, but Lady Lockwood didn’t accept it, so it was awkward.”
Hilarious.
Apologize? They were mocking Uncle the whole time, saying “What apology?”
I glanced at the First Princess with a face full of disbelief, then back at Uncle…
What an expression.
His eyebrows raised, nostrils flaring like an enraged bull, his face turning red.
I was moved, watching Uncle try so hard to restrain himself.
Regardless, the First Princess continued to provoke him.
“Indeed, with my brother’s arrival, Lady Lockwood’s face seems to have brightened even more.”
Brightened? You call that brightened?
To me, it looked like he was seething.
Just as Uncle, trembling and clenching his fists, opened his mouth—
“Is that so? Are you glad I came, Lady Lockwood? I’m glad to see you too.”
The oblivious Crown Prince’s voice rang out.
Uncle’s expression darkened further.
“By the way, Lady Lockwood, how about borrowing my dress and changing?”
Faced with this sudden suggestion from the First Princess, Uncle looked “Really?”—skeptical—but she summoned her maid to help him change.
Then she smiled softly at her brother, the Crown Prince.
“How about you accompany her? You can also show Lady Lockwood around the palace.”
In short, she was telling them to have a nice time together and forget about the tea party.
Her aim? To get Beatrice close to her brother while naturally distancing her from the Duke.
Unrequited love sure is sneaky.
I saw the Crown Prince extend his hand toward Uncle, clearly determined not to miss this opportunity.
“Go, Beatrice.”
Uncle tried to reach for the Crown Prince’s hand.
But although his head knew he should, his body betrayed him—his hand trembled violently as it reached out.
Finally, just as their hands were about to touch—
“I’m sorry, but my hands are too sweaty.”
Uncle pulled his hand back with a lame excuse.
I bit my lip in frustration.
Alright, let it slide for now. He’s trying this hard; things will improve gradually.
