Chapter 31
At the woman’s words, Elsez’s expression turned flat and unimpressed.
‘That name again.’
She herself had no such thoughts, yet people everywhere seemed to chant as if praying for her to become the duchess. Just hearing that name now made her sick of it.
The woman began lecturing Elsez.
“Even if you’re not officially married yet, you should still show some manners. A person shouldn’t behave like that.”
“And where exactly am I supposed to be showing manners?”
“Where else—Lady Brandy, of course. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten etiquette just because you haven’t attended a ball in a while?”
Elsez cast a sidelong glance toward the group of young noble ladies.
Just as before, they were whispering while glancing her way.
And at the center of that circle stood a woman who was clearly Lady Brandy, the marquis’s daughter.
Elsez’s eyes narrowed.
‘So this is about hierarchy, huh?’
Even if she didn’t know every rule of high society, her years of frequently transferring schools had trained her to instantly detect cliques and subtle hostility.
It wasn’t hard to guess that the woman before her had been sent by Lady Brandy herself.
Brandy wanted to lure Elsez over to greet her first, so that everyone would see that Elsez was her inferior.
The reason was obvious enough.
‘Guess it must sting that a viscount’s daughter might soon outrank her as a duchess-to-be.’
A woman of lower birth rising above her through marriage—no wonder it turned her stomach.
Just then, the young lady beside Elsez urged her.
“Let’s go greet her now.”
Feeling the gaze of Lord Lort, the young viscount, still fixed on her, Elsez smiled faintly and agreed.
“Alright, let’s go.”
The two approached the group of noble ladies, who eyed Elsez with open disapproval.
Only Lady Brandy greeted her with a sweet smile.
Elsez, as they expected, was the first to speak.
“Hello, Lady Brandy.”
“It’s been a while, Lady Rohine. The duke didn’t come with you today?”
Though Brandy’s tone was gentle, Elsez immediately caught the implication.
She had already seen with her own eyes that Tezet wasn’t present—so asking again was nothing but a jab, a way to look down on a woman who came alone.
Elsez replied with the line she’d repeated so often it came automatically.
“He seems very busy these days. His Highness the Crown Prince has been summoning him quite often, I hear.”
The deliberate mention of the Crown Prince made several of the ladies’ sharp gazes falter.
They suddenly recalled Tezet’s status as the prince’s closest aide—and by extension, Elsez’s own as his fiancée.
Sensing the shift, Lady Brandy quickly changed the subject.
“I was so worried since you hadn’t been attending the balls lately. You should have come to greet me right away so we could catch up.”
“Oh, is that so? Then you should’ve greeted me first. I had no idea.”
Elsez smiled brightly as she said it, but Brandy’s smile stiffened ever so slightly.
One of the other young ladies beside her snapped, her tone edged with thorns.
“Why would Lady Brandy greet you first? You should’ve gone to her!”
“Why? If you’re friends, the one who’s glad to see the other can approach first, can’t she? You said she was worried about me.”
Elsez tilted her head as if truly puzzled—then pretended to realize something.
“Ah, I see. So this is about rank… hierarchy and all that?”
At that blunt word, all the ladies, Brandy included, froze.
Because there was no proper rebuttal.
Elsez’s smile faded, and she murmured coolly,
“Funny how it’s always the people unsure of their own standing who love those things. They need others to confirm their worth.”
“……”
“Truly distinguished people don’t care about that. They don’t need to flaunt anything—everyone just knows they’re exceptional.”
Elsez’s gaze locked onto Brandy as she said it.
Brandy’s lips trembled as if struck, her pride flayed bare.
One lady beside her, late to react, tried to defend her.
“Lady Rohine, what exactly are you implying? Everyone here is only speaking out of concern for you, and if you take it that way—”
Brandy, having quickly composed herself, stepped in to diffuse the tension.
“Lady Rohine has gone through something painful recently, so I’m sure her emotions are still raw. Please, everyone, understand.”
Then she turned to Elsez, gently taking her hand with a consoling smile.
“I only called you over because I worried you might feel out of place after so long away from society. If I offended you, I apologize.”
On the surface, it sounded like an apology—but it was a clever trap: she painted herself as magnanimous and Elsez as irrationally emotional.
‘You won’t be able to refuse my apology now.’
Brandy was sure of it. Rejecting a public apology would only make Elsez seem cold and ungracious.
The Elsez she knew wasn’t the type to risk public disapproval by pushing back.
‘In the end, you’ll bow your head.’
That’s what Brandy thought.
But there was one thing she didn’t know.
“If you truly worried about me, the first thing you’d have done was offer condolences about my father’s passing—not ask after the duke. And you wouldn’t be whispering behind my back because I won’t play your little hierarchy games.”
Elsez Rohine—nicknamed the Mad Dog by her four comrades, who all solemnly agreed it fit her perfectly.
A woman who’d tear you apart—verbally or physically—until you surrendered.
Brandy instinctively took a step back from Elsez’s cold, mocking eyes.
Something told her this was an opponent she couldn’t win against.
‘Is this really… that same Elsez Rohine?’
Apparently, others felt the same, because the surrounding ladies’ confidence visibly faltered.
Just then, a man’s voice interrupted.
“Pardon me for intruding, but may I join the conversation?”
It was Lord Lort.
Elsez’s expression soured as if she’d seen something unpleasant, but Brandy instantly brightened and welcomed him.
“Why, Lord Lort, you’re always welcome.”
The other ladies, sensing his presence, quickly turned their attention toward him.
“Have you chosen your first dance partner yet, my lord?”
At the ball, the host traditionally chose the most beautiful unmarried lady to share the first dance—a mark of honor and admiration coveted by all.
Naturally, Brandy believed she would be chosen, and so did everyone else.
“Of course, Lady Brandy—”
But the hand Lord Lort extended was not toward Brandy.
“Lady Rohine, would you grant me the honor of the first dance?”
A stunned silence fell. Everyone turned to look between Elsez and the viscount.
Brandy’s face slowly froze as the realization hit her.
Yet the answer from the supposed “lucky” lady was entirely unexpected.
“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well tonight.”
Everyone stared at Elsez in disbelief, Brandy included.
Forcing a graceful smile, Brandy said sweetly,
“Lady Rohine, it’s considered improper to refuse the first dance at a ball. Sharing even one dance is the polite thing to do.”
Though she herself regretted losing the honor, she hid it well—appearing instead as the gracious senior offering kind advice.
Elsez watched her closely, then suddenly let out a small “Ah,” as if struck by an idea.
“Then why don’t you take my place, Lady Brandy?”
“A splendid idea, Lady Rohine! Lady Brandy is perfectly suited to be the evening’s first dance partner.”
The other ladies chimed in brightly, but Brandy’s face twisted in silent fury.
‘That place everyone longs for…’
Elsez had tossed it away without hesitation.
Not handed over—discarded.
As if the honor Brandy so desperately desired was nothing but trash.
Elsez smiled lightly and added the finishing touch.
“You’re someone who understands etiquette, Lady Brandy. I’m sure you wouldn’t embarrass Lord Lort by refusing.”
Her eyes gleamed—they saw through everything: the situation and Brandy’s boiling emotions.
Brandy clenched her dress hem tight but managed to suppress her anger, taking Lord Lort’s hand.
Elsez watched the two step into the center of the ballroom and begin their dance, a satisfied smile on her lips.
‘Didn’t even have to lift a finger.’
She’d just rid herself of both nuisances at once—the persistent Lort and the petty Brandy.
Let them whisper about her later; she couldn’t care less.
‘I’ll be breaking off the engagement with Tezet soon anyway. I won’t be mingling with this crowd ever again.’
Feeling parched, Elsez called over a servant carrying wine and filled her glass.
Just as she lifted it—
‘…Huh?’
Her vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness hit her.
Gripping a nearby table for support, she frowned.
‘What’s this? I barely even drank any…’
As her mind grew hazy, a figure’s shadow fell over her.
“Didn’t think you’d show up to this ball after all.”
The voice was familiar, but her foggy head couldn’t place it.
Elsez raised her eyes, holding onto the table for balance.
Before her stood her aunt—the Baroness of Herban.
“Feeling better now, Elsez? You didn’t seem well the other day, and I was worried.”
Elsez tried to respond, but her mind was spinning.
Her fading gaze met the equally murky eyes of the baroness.
“Then shall we finish the conversation we couldn’t last time?”
A faint black magic circle glimmered on the woman’s neck.
