Previously
Ash MacCallan returns from investigating the Tesis estate with new information suggesting the late Baron intended to sell his title and marry off the real Rosaline to an old noble for money. He notes the striking change in Rosaline's posture and behavior, fueling his habitual skepticism about her identity.
In any case, thanks to that, I ended up attending a party I had no desire to go to.
Upon arriving, I found that despite the House of Dartmouth’s failure to educate their daughter on basic character, they were quite a respectable family.
I heard they built their fortune through the tea trade. Perhaps that was why there were as many as nine types of tea for the guests to choose from.
‘So they call it a tea party, but it’s actually a showcase for their new products?’
Everyone is so clever.
Guided to a table away from Mrs. Brow, I sniffed the scent of the tea leaves in small glass jars one by one and made my selection.
Back when I lived at the bottom of the barrel, I thought there was only one kind of tea in the world. That bitter yet slightly sweet-smelling tea we’d brew in a soot-stained old kettle whenever the weather turned cold.
We drank it for a clear purpose. It warmed our bodies without needing food, and the caffeine kept us awake.
But nobles don’t drink tea for a purpose. If I had to name one, I suppose it would be to enjoy a moment of leisure.
‘How extravagant.’
Buying tea more expensive than gold just to enjoy a break, and flaunting their wealth and power by serving it to guests.
No matter how much money I have, I don’t think I could ever buy tea that costs a hundred thousand Gilden per gram. Honestly, no matter what tea I drink, none of it tastes better to me than that ‘tea’ we used to boil in the cold dawn.
As I sipped the tea with its hints of orange and reminisced about the past, someone called out to me from behind. It was a familiar voice.
I turned around with a beaming smile to find Heather looking at me with a cold smirk.
According to what I’d learned, in the noble hierarchy, the daughter of a Count wasn’t technically higher than a Baron with a hereditary title. Of course, one couldn’t treat a Count’s daughter carelessly because of her family’s influence.
The important thing was that she shouldn’t look down on me like she did when Rosaline Tesis was just a Baron’s daughter.
Judging by the way her expression twitched, Heather seemed to have understood exactly what I meant.
I offered my thanks, trying hard not to look too pleased.
Heather, who tried to crush me with her family’s wealth and power, and I, who lightly dismissed and mocked the Dartmouths’ tea, were both equally childish, but so what?
When dealing with someone who looks at you with contempt, you have to show them you’re no pushover if you don’t want to be torn apart.
My heart felt a bit lighter thanks to that, but the reason she had invited me remained a mystery.
‘I need to stay sharp. She might try to humiliate me by mobilizing her friends again.’
The real Rosaline fell for it easily, but I am not that defenseless.
I joined the surrounding conversations just enough to avoid being criticized, and when a topic I wasn’t confident in came up, I spent the time pretending to savor my tea.
Then, I tilted my head when a name I knew began to be mentioned at the table.
Hmm. This sounds like it’s meant for my ears.
‘So this is how I find out who that childhood friend they kept mentioning is.’
The young ladies discussing them seemed to be waiting for me to be surprised, but I simply sipped my tea with a nonchalant face.
Honestly, I really didn’t care.
It wasn’t as if I were passionately in love with the man, and I hadn’t assumed he’d never had a woman in his life.
It’s like this: no matter who came before, isn’t the one who claims the prize at the end the winner? If we’re calling this a game, that is.
When no reaction came from me, the ladies brought up their story again.
I almost burst out laughing at that.
‘Why do you need to be highly cultured to talk to a man? Do you think men are really that noble?’
And what they want from a woman isn’t that grand either. They just want someone to soothe their feelings, satisfy their lust, or in the worst case, be an ornament by their side.
Besides, if they meet that often and he avoids answering whether they’re lovers, I think you should kick that man to the curb immediately, Lady Brianna Wells.
Since I continued to show no reaction and just broke off pieces of a cookie to eat, someone finally couldn’t stand it and turned the arrow of attention toward me under the guise of asking for an update.
I’m sure she’s not asking if I’ve been eating well.
It wasn’t that I didn’t feel like feigning ignorance and rambling about something else just to annoy them, but I didn’t want to waste my time and energy on these people.
So, I just let it slip.
“Oh my! You had a marriage interview…. Who was the other party?”
The atmosphere turned icy in an instant.
Wasn’t this what they wanted me to realize? Why are they the ones failing to control their expressions?
They all nodded reluctantly from their awkward positions.
After saying that much, I smiled brightly and picked up my tea again.
I noticed a couple of the ladies who had been gossiping about Brianna and Arthur glancing toward Heather, but I didn’t act like I’d noticed.
‘To think you’d try this as an attack—I’m disappointed, Lady Dartmouth.’
I don’t know why the world of sheltered young ladies is so delicate and faint-hearted. If you’re going to fight, you should at least have the spirit to grab someone by the hair and shake them.
Tsk, tsk, I clicked my tongue inwardly as I picked up the last cookie and broke it in two.
I disliked most things that made up Heather Dartmouth, but the tea food served at today’s tea party was truly fantastic. To the point that I resolved to improve the quality of the cookies at Tesis Baronial Castle once I earned more money.
Heather gritted her teeth as she glared at Rosaline, who was munching on cookies with a nonchalant expression.
‘She has nothing, yet she dares…!’
Heather was one of the flowers of Herona’s high society.
The wealth of the House of Dartmouth, which was said to be enough to buy the royal palace; a mother who led public opinion among middle-aged noblewomen; friends from good families she’d associated with since childhood; and an appearance that, while not a classic beauty, was attractive enough.
Heather believed she lacked nothing.
Perhaps because of that, everyone treated her favorably, and Heather was correspondingly proud. Proud enough to ruthlessly drive out any social climber who didn’t meet her standards.
That was why she had humiliated Rosaline Tesis. A country bumpkin who walked around shamelessly with her chin held high without reading the room—it was so eyesore.
And then that woman, who didn’t know her place, had the audacity to spill wine on Heather’s skirt. And in front of the man she liked, no less.
Bouncing Rosaline out of high society was simple. All she had to do was let her friends know she disliked her. Then her friends would tell their other friends, and just like that, the ‘one who lacks dignity’ would vanish from Herona’s social circles.
That was how it should have gone, but the fire at the Brow townhouse had ruined her plans.