TEWRIT 38

Episode 38

“If it’s hard to visit the flower shop, find a servant named Billy. Just show him this.”

Astin placed a silver hairpin beside Eliano’s pillow. It had a black flower engraved on it. It looked simple and straight—not curved like most hairpins.

“It looks like obsidian, but it’s fake.”

“The amethyst looks real, though.”

A tiny amethyst sat where the flower’s centre should be. Eliano held the accessory above her face, inspecting it carefully. It’s a bit thick for a hairpin… and kind of heavy, too.

Before she could say more, Astin had already disappeared through the window—quietly closing it behind her.

“…This isn’t a hairpin. It’s a knife.”

Eliano gripped the pin with both hands and pulled. The smooth cover slipped off, revealing a sharp, thin blade. It wasn’t round, but square and pointy toward the tip. Too fragile to be a real dagger, yet too long to call it a simple needle.

Still, Eliano knew this kind of blade wouldn’t break if made properly. If used the right way, it could pierce deep into flesh. She’d used something like this in her past life—once stabbing a spy in the hand, once holding it to her own neck as a bluff. It had many uses. You could even peel fruit with it.

In Bianteca, people wouldn’t recognise what this is. I’ll just wear it as a hair accessory.

Eliano slipped the blade under her pillow and went to sleep.

Lately, the second daughter of House Rosana, Isabella, had been going out often with her mother in preparation for her debut into society.

Dress shops, jewelry stores, flower shops, art studios, tea salons…

Eliano thought to herself, ”She’s getting more attention than I did when I debuted.”

This was how noble ladies were introduced to society—by making appearances at high-society spots before the official debut. It helped them build connections with other nobles their age.

Now that Eliano had full control over her letters, she boldly reorganised her social schedule. She cancelled meaningless events and added useful ones.

One of the cancelled events was an embroidery club hosted by Lilliana Sanders. Eliano hadn’t gone in a while—she didn’t find it fun or productive. Plus, now that she didn’t go, the club had lost value. Only one Rosana daughter attended instead of two. It was a small way to show her influence.

Meanwhile, another embroidery group had become more popular—one hosted by Viscountess Melissa Fleming.

This group were mostly married women. Pamela had once dismissed it, saying it wasn’t proper for unmarried young ladies. But Eliano paid attention not to the embroidery but to the lively gossip that flowed like a river there. These seasoned noblewomen knew everything—even things they shouldn’t.

Sometimes, it was about politics:

“His Majesty is listening more to the pro-peace faction lately. The Foreign Ministry is tense.”

“It’s probably temporary. The Emperor still hasn’t forgiven Jakador for our loss.”

“Well, he was young and newly crowned back then. The war was a mistake, and our people suffered for it.”

Other times, they whispered juicy rumours:

“Countess Evans is secretly meeting a handsome young man with violet eyes… But he’s not a man—he’s a lady in disguise!”

“Oh my! Even women fall for Adele Evans. She’s wild, but somehow charming.”

“At least she’s better than Count Samuel. I once saw him fooling around with a palace servant… I wish I could erase that memory.”

“You mean those palace servants? The pretty boys in the Empress’s court? I’d buy that memory!”

Other times, they knew inside news:

“A new clerk tried to cut the budget for the imperial greenhouse.”

“What?! That’s the Emperor’s wedding gift to the Empress! Rare plants grow there!”

“Foolish man. The Empress demanded to see him. But the Royal Office already fired him. The chamberlain handled it directly.”

“If the chamberlain stepped in, that must be the Emperor’s will…”

It made Eliano wonder, ”How do they know all this?”

With only women present, conversations could get bold. Viscountess Fleming—once an official in the inspection department—was now head of her family. That explained the depth of her knowledge.

“Welcome, ladies. Whether it’s your first time or your tenth, I’m happy you’re here. You can all call me Melissa. Since we have some young guests today, let’s choose a cute design for our embroidery!”

Thanks to Eliano, several younger ladies had joined the club, and Viscountess Fleming was delighted.

She was a middle-aged noblewoman with real influence. Her speech was youthful, and she had grown children. After her husband died, she remarried a younger man—making many noblewomen jealous.

“To see such fine stitching from someone so young… I’ve been doing this for over ten years, and I’m embarrassed.”

Eliano smiled modestly. She had learned embroidery while living in Jakador, where it was considered a proper skill for noble ladies. Her fingers had blistered from the training.

“I just copy patterns. I could never design anything as beautiful as yours. I once visited your son’s studio and saw a tapestry embroidered with Makarisera flowers. I was so impressed.”

“We met then, didn’t we? I’m glad you remember.”

Embroidery seemed simple but required real focus. And when you were focused, it was easy to miss what others said. Eliano pretended to concentrate on her stitching but listened closely to everything.

In Zacador, noble ladies would sometimes insult each other to their faces if they thought the other wasn’t paying attention. But if you messed up your stitching while listening, they’d laugh at you for that too. You had to be perfect—stitch like a machine and keep your ears open.

Having lived like that, Eliano had grown to hate embroidery hoops. But now that she could stitch slowly, it was more bearable.

She didn’t even need to speak much. People assumed she was too focused to join in, and she could pick and choose what to respond to.

“I hear the Howard Grand Duke’s banquet is growing larger. A relative from the North wants to send their nephew to the capital and asked me to look after him.”

Howard’s name had come up many times before. Once, the conversation had gotten so embarrassing, Eliano had to pretend she didn’t hear it. It was something like Adele’s ‘His Highness is very… built’ comment—except worse.

“But he’ll go back to the North, won’t he? Why send a nephew to the capital?”

“Maybe it’s not just any banquet.”

Their minds worked quickly. Then came a comment that made Eliano’s hand pause.

“Sounds like he’s searching for a bride. How cute. Girls these days are so bold!”

Younger noblewomen’s eyes sparkled. A few who had marriageable sons muttered about getting invitations.

“I heard His Highness the Crown Prince is helping plan the banquet. The Howard retainers are rushing to the capital too.”

“Well, they do need a mistress for the house. And the emperor wants him to marry, too.”

“If the Crown Prince is involved, it’ll be a good party. He has great taste.”

A noblewoman smiled as she looked at her embroidery.

“I’ll tell my son to attend.”

“To a banquet that might choose the Grand Duchess?”

“Well, all the top ladies will be there. He might meet his match.”

“Ohhh…”

Now the room was filled with whispers. Everyone was plotting how to get an invitation.

Eliano already had one.

Pretending to be lost in her embroidery, she smiled faintly.

A bride-selection banquet? For Flint Howard?

Clearly, this was Heriath’s doing. The Crown Prince was playing matchmaker for his friend, full of excitement.

But Flint wasn’t the type to line up ladies and choose a wife. That kind of flashy display was more Heriath’s style. Besides, a proper bride-selection event needed three days at least.

Eliano’s invitation had said two days.

But now, the banquet had been extended. The new official letter explained the venue had changed, the date was moved, and the duration was increased—asking for understanding.

She felt uneasy.

And that uneasiness became annoyance when the truth was confirmed.

“It is a bride-selection banquet,” said Heriath, barging into the Empress’s tea party with a proud grin. “The word’s already out. All ladies dreaming of becoming the Grand Duchess should attend!”

He smiled like he was throwing the biggest party of the year.

“You think Flint won’t show up? He’ll be there all five days—choosing his bride with care!”

The unmarried young ladies looked thrilled.

“Even if you’re not aiming to be the Grand Duchess, you should still come. Plenty of noblemen will be there!”

One of Heriath’s aides handed out invitations to everyone at the table. Eliano’s letter landed in front of her.

“…”

Her stomach twisted.

The banquet had been extended to five days. Something had felt off.

How dare they… invite me to a bride-selection banquet?

To Eliano, it felt like they were saying, Let’s compare you with other ladies and see if you’re worthy.