Chapter 42

Anne-Marie, rubbing her forehead as she watched Lavinia lift her chin and sharply turn her head away, walked over to Lilietta and apologized once again.

“I’m so sorry, Lili. Lavinia seemed interested in you, so I thought this would be a good chance for the two of you to become friends. I was hoping she’d learn a little from watching you… I never imagined she’d act like this the moment we arrived. I should have separated her from you somehow.”

“It’s okay. I was the one who asked for your help. Thank you for coming even though everything was so rushed.”

“It’s nothing, really. Oh, and this is my younger brother, Anton. I don’t think you’ve seen each other since you were little.”

As Anne-Marie stepped aside, a quiet-looking brown-haired boy who looked remarkably like her came into view. His face—and even the back of his neck—had turned bright red as he stood frozen, staring at Lilietta.

“Anton? What are you doing? Say hello.”

Startled, Anne-Marie lightly smacked her brother on the arm. Only then did he snap out of his daze and stammer out a greeting.

“I-I-I’m A-Anton D-D-Duyireborg Everett. M-May you h-have a f-f-fresh spring…”

“Why are you suddenly—”

Anne-Marie frowned as she was about to scold him, but when she glanced back at Lilietta, she let out a wry smile.

“Sorry, Lili. You’re just so beautiful that he’s completely lost his mind. Somehow I keep having to apologize today.”

“Sis!”

“Oh? Looks like you’ve finally come back to your senses?”

“Aaaah…”

Anton buried his flaming-red face in his hands and let out a strange groan.

Rita couldn’t help laughing.

I wasn’t used to it at first either.

Although she’d grown somewhat accustomed to her new appearance after more than a month since returning, she still occasionally startled herself whenever she looked into a mirror. It felt less like seeing her own reflection and more like gazing at a portrait of an astonishing beauty.

It was probably because she’d grown up in someone else’s body. Even now, whenever she imagined herself unconsciously, she still pictured Rita Pascal, not Lilietta.

Lilietta led Anne-Marie, the bright-red-faced Anton, and the sulking Lavinia into the ballroom.

She had prepared everything here because she believed practicing in the actual venue where the debutante ball would be held would be the most effective.

Training should always happen on the real battlefield.

Lindsay quietly slipped away to carry out another objective of today’s training, while Hannah, who had been waiting in advance, set up the gramophone.

Standing before Anne-Marie, Rita faced Anton.

Hmm… He can’t even look me in the eyes. He’s obviously flustered.

She vaguely remembered seeing him a few times at the villa when they were children, though she honestly couldn’t recall much.

Still, he wasn’t a complete stranger, and seeing how awkward and harmless he looked naturally lowered her guard.

The fact that Anton showed no signs of combat training also helped.

At this level… even if his hand touches my back, I probably won’t feel like twisting his arm.

Unlike the relieved Rita, Anton had completely forgotten where to look while standing before the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

No, I thought she was unbelievably pretty when we were kids too… but this is cheating! At this level, Sister should’ve warned me!

Among the nobility, boys and girls debuted in society anywhere between fifteen and eighteen.

Anton, now nineteen, had debuted two years earlier and was considered one of the more active members of his generation in social circles.

As the youngest child—with both an older sister to inherit the family and Anne-Marie as his second sister—and with no remarkable talents for a profession, his life goal was to marry into a distinguished noble family.

Naturally, he could dance the waltz—the most basic dance of any ball—with his eyes closed.

The only reason he’d unintentionally gripped his partner’s back too tightly was because he had become nervous while dancing with someone so breathtakingly beautiful.

Unfortunately, the consequences of that tiny mistake were catastrophic.

The instant Rita felt the fingers resting on her back tense—

She instinctively hooked Anton’s leg, swept him to the floor, twisted his arm behind his back, and pinned him down.

“AAAGH!”

Anton’s scream echoed through the ballroom over the elegant strains of the waltz playing from the gramophone.

Still expressionless, Rita quickly looked around to see whether there were any more enemies.

Only then did she notice Anne-Marie staring with wide eyes, Lavinia standing there with her mouth hanging open, and Hannah covering her face with one hand.

She immediately snapped back to reality.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!”

She hurriedly let go and apologized.

Anton clutched his shoulder with tears welling in his eyes.

Fortunately, Rita had subdued him using Lilietta’s much weaker body rather than the hardened body she’d trained in before. Otherwise, his shoulder might have been broken or his arm dislocated.

Anne-Marie muttered blankly,

“Y-You were dancing perfectly… I couldn’t understand why you said you needed practice… L-Lili?”

“…Well… um…”

Rita found herself speechless.

Seeing her struggle, Hannah cautiously stepped in.

“My lady… spent the last ten years learning combat techniques… even though she doesn’t remember much of that time. Um… like a knight.”

“…Combat techniques?”

Anne-Marie blinked in confusion.

From the corner of the room, Lavinia snorted.

“What a ridiculous thing to say. Do you think I don’t know what a knight is? A knight who’s trained for ten years wouldn’t look so delicate! Even female knights are all muscular! She doesn’t even have a single scar. She probably learned a little self-defense somewhere and now she’s pretending to be a knight!”

“Pretending to be a knight?”

Hannah flushed with anger, apparently forgetting that Lavinia was the daughter of the Duke of Duyireborg.

Clenching both fists, she raised her voice.

“My lady isn’t pretending at all! She’s the real thing! She can shoot birds flying through the sky with a gun! She even killed a wyvern with a single bullet!”

“Hahaha! Listen to this girl.”

Lavinia burst into laughter before folding her arms arrogantly.

“You’re just a maid, so of course you don’t know anything. She shot a bird flying through the sky? Even Sir Fabein, the best archer in our knight order, says that’s incredibly difficult. What nonsense!”

“The one who doesn’t know anything is you! My lady really—”

“Hannah, calm down.”

Rita interrupted with a sigh.

“That’s not what’s important.”

“But it’s true…”

“I said it isn’t important.”

Whether a young noble lady about to make her debut had truly mastered combat techniques or not hardly mattered.

Besides, Lilietta couldn’t care less what Lavinia thought of her.

The bigger problem is that I might end up doing the same thing to the Crown Prince at the debutante ball.

Glancing once more at the still-groaning Anton, Rita sighed again before acting according to the etiquette she’d crammed into her head.

“Lady Duyireborg, please forgive my maid’s rudeness. She acted out of excessive loyalty. I humbly ask for your generous understanding.”

Hearing such a flawless, textbook apology, Lavinia—who had been throwing insults around only moments ago—flinched.

She glanced at Anne-Marie before hurriedly straightening her posture and puffing out her chest.

“Hmph… W-Well… yes. I forgive the rudeness, Lady Lascaille. I’m a generous person, after all.”

“Thank you.”

As Lilietta bowed her head, Hannah stared at her in stunned silence.

She realized that Lilietta had apologized in her place to protect her.

Regardless of who was right or wrong, if Lavinia—daughter of the Duke of Duyireborg—had decided to make an issue of a mere maid talking back, Hannah would have been punished.

My lady…!

With Hannah lowering her head, nearly in tears, the brief commotion seemed ready to end.

It certainly would have…

If only Lavinia hadn’t continued bragging.

“A gun? As if some cheap little thing like that could ever kill a wyvern. Those things break down all the time, and they’re exactly the same no matter who uses them, aren’t they? A knight’s weapon is a sword. A soldier’s weapons are spears and bows! That’s common knowledge. Knights don’t even consider guns real weapons. Combat techniques? Don’t make me laugh. If you’re going to boast, at least make it believable.”

Lilietta—

No.

Rita Pascal—

Stopped walking toward Anton.

She slowly turned around and looked at Lavinia with a blank expression.

Without realizing it, the pink-haired girl flinched and took a step backward.

She tilted her head, seemingly unable to understand why she’d retreated.

Rita spoke quietly.

“So you’re saying… a wyvern can’t be killed with a gun?”

“H-Huh?”

“And that guns are all the same no matter who uses them? That they aren’t even real weapons?”

“U-Uh…”

Overwhelmed by the strange pressure emanating from Rita, Lavinia could only stammer.

Rita stared at her for a long moment.

Then she smiled.

“So… those were your exact words, Lady Duyireborg?”