Chapter 150
The Tea Party Invitation
Amira often cast sharp, critical looks toward Adrian, Seth, and Russell alike—but she never dared to openly express her displeasure toward Adrian or Seth.
Adrian was a scholar personally summoned by the former Grand Duke, and Seth was the son of a high-ranking noble.
The people she openly showed her dissatisfaction toward were Russell, a commoner, and Eleanor, who wasn’t even considered a proper commoner. The two also shared another similarity: neither of them could properly fight back.
And among the two, Amira had begun targeting the more recent arrival with even greater persistence.
As a result, rumors about Eleanor gradually began circulating throughout the palace.
“I heard she said Royster food tastes like countryside food and left everything uneaten.”
“And apparently she used her knight to act rudely even toward the head maid.”
At this point, it was harder not to know where these stories came from.
The gossip mostly claimed that because Eleanor was from the Juvenile Empire, she looked down on the Grand Duchy of Royster. It was a classic, predictable method of stirring discord.
Not stopping there, Amira also took issue with the fact that Karsian had summoned a tailor for Eleanor, saying that she had only just arrived yet was already indulging in luxury with the Grand Ducal family’s money.
A few days earlier, Karsian had suggested that Eleanor have clothes made for her to wear while staying here. He looked ready to buy her dozens of dresses and expensive jewelry, but Eleanor repeatedly refused, choosing instead to purchase only a few sets of practical clothing suited to Royster’s climate and atmosphere.
She even insisted on paying for them herself, which had seriously hurt his feelings.
In the end, he paid anyway—but it wasn’t nearly enough money to be called extravagant.
As always, the truth was buried under exaggerated rumors.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—these rumors never reached Karsian’s ears. It seemed Adrian had intervened appropriately. If Karsian had heard them, things would have turned disastrous.
Seth, having heard the bad rumors as well, began keeping even more distance from her. Russell occasionally glanced at her cautiously, but his attitude didn’t change much.
Despite being the center of attention, Eleanor herself didn’t take any of it to heart. Worrying over such trivial things felt like a waste of time.
Contrary to Amira’s wishes, Eleanor had been very happy lately.
Sleeping in late and spending each day at a relaxed pace felt unbelievably satisfying.
During the day, Karsian was often busy, so she usually spent time with Hilda and Ernst. Seth, who was assigned as her guard, was usually with them as well. When Seth had unavoidable duties elsewhere, Russell took his place.
The stares of others and the increasingly cold weather were far from enough to keep her indoors. Eleanor’s group wandered all over the city every single day, as if their feet were on fire.
They visited every bakery they could find and tried every kind of bread, watched in fascination as street vendors roasted chestnuts—ending up being given a few by chance—and sometimes leisurely walked through the city, casually joining in on local gossip.
At first, the residents were wary of the unfamiliar outsiders, but as Royster was a city accustomed to travelers, they naturally accepted them.
It helped that they didn’t yet know Eleanor was the woman brought back by the Grand Duke.
Meanwhile, Seth wore an utterly dumbfounded expression every time Eleanor accepted roasted chestnuts from a street vendor or joined conversations with the locals.
“Why would you even…?”
His silver-gray eyes clearly said, Are you a beggar? Why would you accept that?
But because she was his lord’s woman, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.
Eleanor didn’t care either way and kept walking briskly.
The place Eleanor’s group visited most often was the workshops.
Hilda absolutely loved going there, and Eleanor enjoyed watching Hilda have fun, so they always walked the same route.
Like the residents, the craftsmen were initially wary and annoyed—but as the visits repeated, they eventually grew accustomed to them.
Hilda displayed astonishing social skills, quickly growing close to the workers. She joked with them like friends and even naturally joined in to help with small tasks.
On the way back to the palace, she would wear a sinister grin and say,
“They’ll never know, right? That I’m stealing their core techniques left and right with this cute face of mine. Hahaha! Such innocent Royster folks!”
She added wickedly, “If we spot someone really skilled, let’s recruit them for our business.”
Eleanor silently gave her a thumbs-up.
After returning to the palace with the future millionaire, Eleanor usually spent time with Karsian.
No matter how busy he was, Karsian tried his best to have dinner with her. It was worrying—but also deeply appreciated.
They would talk about their day and chat about trivial things, and before they knew it, darkness would fall.
That was when the busiest—and most exhausting—part of the day began.
Perhaps he had become addicted after their thrilling first experience.
Like a man possessed, Karsian sought her bed every night, driven by lust.
If it had only been limited to the bed, it would have been far better.
“Wait—why all of a sudden…!”
“Didn’t you look at me beautifully?”
“When did I—ugh!”
Simply making eye contact was enough for her to end up being eaten on the table mid-snack, instead of the cake sitting there.
“Hng—Karsian, what if someone comes…?”
“Then I suppose I’d have to pluck out the eyes that dared witness your beauty.”
In his office where anyone could walk in, in front of the dressing room mirror mid-change—the situations, locations, and even positions were endlessly varied.
Out of consideration for Eleanor’s stamina, there were days when he restrained himself.
Even then, Karsian never returned to his own room. He lay beside her on her bed, staying close.
With a longing expression, he would absentmindedly play with her hand or shoulder.
Eleanor deliberately pretended not to notice that desperation.
It was the only way she would survive.
Days that were absurdly relaxed and peaceful, and nights filled with heated desire—week after week passed like that.
So this is what happiness is like.
She thought so every day.
That she had finally become happy. That such days had finally come to her.
Even if it was happiness with a predetermined end.
***
It had already been a month since Eleanor began calmly ignoring the gazes around her and Amira’s harassment, as if she had attained enlightenment.
Only then did Eleanor realize that the looks the Trava Palace servants gave her had changed.
Since when had it happened?
The wariness in their eyes had softened considerably. Where they once looked at her like a notorious villain, now they merely glanced at her with mild curiosity.
As if to confirm that this change wasn’t her imagination, Eleanor unintentionally overheard maids gossiping about her while returning to her room after an outing.
“Isn’t she nicer than expected? I heard she was super difficult, but she’s not at all.”
“Right? I thought she’d slap maids around or something. Slap? She hasn’t even raised her voice once.”
“Maybe the rumors were wrong? A villainess who ruined her family… no matter how I think about it, she doesn’t seem like that kind of person.”
It was completely unexpected.
Eleanor, who had assumed she would hear nothing but insults, froze—more flustered than she would have been hearing outright abuse.
“But seriously, how can someone be that pretty? Is she even human? I honestly thought she was a fairy at first.”
“Have you seen her smile when your eyes meet? I almost ascended right there. Honestly, if I were His Highness, I’d have kidnapped her immediately. With a face like that, how could you not bring her back?”
She could remain composed when hearing crude insults—but she couldn’t do the same with embarrassing praise.
Eleanor quickened her steps to avoid them.
“Are women from Juvenile all like that? You know how people say women from cold countries have fair skin and are beautiful.”
The voices followed her until she was well out of earshot—embarrassing to the very end.
Eleanor barely calmed her burning face as she headed to her room.
“I think I just lost my nationality.”
Hilda, with her nicely tanned skin, muttered mournfully beside her.
It was very like Hilda to seize the chance to tease Eleanor.
“Just say you’re from Royster if anyone asks from now on,”
Ernst chimed in comfortingly.
The two bickered easily, surprisingly in sync—as if they’d grown close.
“Both of you, stop teasing me.”
“Yes, fairy lady.”
Hilda showed no signs of stopping.
Shaking her head, Eleanor opened the door to her room.
Despite pretending to sulk, she wasn’t actually in a bad mood. Being told she was pretty was always nice—and she was also happy that people’s opinions of her had improved without any schemes or acting on her part.
So not everyone blindly believed rumors.
The realization was pleasantly surprising.
However, the person standing in her room clearly didn’t find this situation pleasant.
“…My lady. Have you gone out again today?”
Standing confidently in the room as if she were the owner was none other than the head maid of the palace.
The moment Amira saw Eleanor’s face, she began scolding her as though she had been waiting.
“The weather has grown colder. You should refrain from going out so much. If you catch a cold, it would be a serious matter.”
Since the words were framed as concern, it was difficult to complain. Doing so would only lead to more gossip about how she snapped at someone worrying about her.
“Compared to Juvenile, it’s not that cold yet, so I’m fine. But why are you here? You’re in a room without its owner. Did something serious happen?”
At the word owner, Amira’s brow twitched.
It was the reaction Eleanor had expected, and she quietly swallowed a smile.
She had already given up on earning the head maid’s favor. There was nothing more foolish than continuing to try something impossible.
Pretending to know nothing, acting gentle, while subtly irritating Amira had recently become Eleanor’s small hobby—and her quiet form of revenge.
It might not have been wise, but one didn’t always need to be wise.
“…I came because I had something to deliver. It was urgent, so I hurried over without realizing you were absent.”
Amira forced down her anger and made excuses.
There was no apology—but Eleanor nodded as if she had received one.
“That’s fine. It happens. Just be more careful next time. So—what was the urgent matter?”
Amira looked like she was boiling from the inside.
Behind Eleanor, Hilda bit her lip to hold back laughter. If Ernst hadn’t nudged her in warning, she might have let out a snort.
After a short, deep breath, Amira finally regained her composure and handed something to Eleanor.
“Here. A tea party invitation addressed to you, my lady.”
