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I wasn't sure if it was because she had become so cautious in her movements, but the door behind her was left slightly ajar.
If someone were to pass by the hallway in front of the powder room, they could easily overhear everything we discussed.
Surely the female lead wouldn't have left the door open on purpose, so I supposed it was just a coincidence.
‘No, it feels too unsettling to just brush it off because she’s the female lead.’
Hadn't something similar happened during the last banquet?
Once or twice could be dismissed as a coincidence, but if it happened a third or fourth time, I would have to have a proper talk with Stella.
Once I hardened my resolve, my mind became much clearer.
So, what should I do about that door?
‘It would be awkward to tell her to go back and close it. I'd be giving an order to a noble young lady that I would only give to a maid.’
Well, in any case, there was no way that any problematic content would arise in the conversation I intended to have with her.
I had absolutely no intention of bullying her or picking a fight.
As I shifted my body away from the mirror, Stella, who had been approaching hesitantly, gave a polite bow.
“P-Princess Martyr, um, a peaceful night...?”
“That is a greeting used when parting, Young Lady.”
“Ah...!”
Stella’s fair face flushed crimson in an instant.
It was likely due to shame, but I couldn't quite understand it.
Several months had already passed since Stella fell in love with Raymond and began integrating into noble society.
I understood that it must have been difficult to adjust, given that she had lived practically as a commoner until then.
However, failing to memorize a few basic greetings after several months—wasn't that a matter of her own will?
‘I heard that in one of the foreign countries, the greetings change every month. If she went there, Stella would struggle even to maintain her title.’
I stared at Stella while entertaining such absurd thoughts.
Before long, she spoke, touching her flushed cheeks.
“...As expected, someone who fits into noble society, like Princess Martyr, should be by Raymond's side, not a rustic Baron's daughter like me. If you hadn't pointed it out, Young Lady, I would still be dreaming a vain dream.”
“Pardon? Young Lady Aer, what do you mean by...?”
“As you know, our Aer family is so modest that it's hardly worth calling us nobles. To the point where there's barely any difference from commoners.”
Bitterness was evident in Stella's expression as she spoke.
The moment I saw that face, I felt as if words I hadn't even spoken had become reality.
I had simply corrected a wrong greeting, yet it looked as if I had stepped forward to criticize her background.
If anyone were to see this situation, they would boldly testify that I was bullying Stella, regardless of my excuses.
That was how truly pitiful Stella's face looked.
If someone were to ask me what a tragic heroine looks like, I would describe Stella's current face without hesitation.
Setting aside my admiration for her "heroine-like" quality, I had a reason to navigate this situation.
‘I've been alone for quite a while, so it's about time other young ladies leave their spots. If a third party coming for a break sees this and misreports it to Raymond, my future will become nothing more than a runaway tank on the Autobahn of despair.’
Raymond still didn't even believe that I had given up on him.
If he were to receive such distorted information from someone, his delusion would become even more irreversible.
‘Not only is my life at stake, but above all, that delusion itself is incredibly unpleasant!’
Holding my throbbing head, I asked the still-trembling Stella.
“Young Lady Aer, did I perhaps say something that you could misunderstand?”
“...What?”
“I simply corrected you because your greeting was wrong. I have absolutely no—not even a tiny bit!—of interest in your or Raymond's reputation.”
At my firm words, a look of bewilderment crossed Stella's face.
Then again, if I were in her shoes, I wouldn't believe it either if someone who had always glared with bloodshot eyes and looked for every opportunity to torment me suddenly declared a change of heart.
If anything, I'd think they had retreated only to inflict even greater pain.
In truth, this was all because the original Yevgenia had been utterly obsessed with Raymond.
Even my father, who would believe me even if I told him I was making fermented soybean paste out of green beans, didn't take my declaration seriously.
To put it simply, this was karma.
Just as I let out a small sigh and was about to add more words to reassure Stella—
“Ah, I understand, Princess.”
“Pardon? What do you...?”
Now it was my turn to be flustered.
Having composed her expression, Stella looked like someone who had reached a personal epiphany.
A firm determination shone in her sparkling eyes, and her slightly lifted chin was trembling faintly.
It was just like a protagonist in a story facing hardship...
“The fact that Raymond's reputation is tarnished because of me is exactly what you want, isn't it, Young Lady?”
“What?”
“Of course, it will be difficult to achieve the same level of perfect refinement as you immediately, but still...”
With her eyes slightly reddened, Stella spoke in a powerful voice.
“I will do my absolute best. For Raymond.”
“No...”
“Then I shall take my leave, Princess Yevgenia Martyr.”
Her hand, as she bowed with all her effort to get the angle right, was shaking violently.
I felt as if I were witnessing a 'scene' showing a love strong enough to overcome the fear of Yevgenia.
Feeling that the misunderstanding had worsened, I stood up to stop her and clear things up.
“Young Lady Aer!”
The moment I barely managed to grab her wrist with an urgent cry—
Slam!
“Stella!”
At a timing that made me wonder how this was even possible—why of all people this bastard, and how did he end up here?
They say the body freezes when one is too surprised.
I was experiencing that firsthand.
‘Is this the protagonist buff or something?’
A hollow laugh escaped me.
Perhaps in the face of a protagonist loved by the world, my struggles were entirely useless.
With cold eyes, I glared at the boor who had flung open the powder room doors with both hands.
“Young Noble Raymond Larsen. This is a powder room prepared for the ladies. The fact that you flung open the door to a place that even Count Kandre, the host of this banquet, would not dare enter must mean that the matter is gravely urgent, right?”
“...That is.”
“Did a fire break out in the banquet hall? Or has a murder occurred? Or perhaps His Majesty the Emperor himself has graced this banquet with his presence?”
At the barrage of questions, Raymond's mouth snapped shut.
No matter how urgent the situation, opening the door to a powder room without knocking was the ultimate taboo of the banquet hall.
If he hadn't hesitated for a moment immediately after entering, I wouldn't have had the chance to snap at him like this.
‘In the past, he would have immediately pulled Stella into his arms, pushed me away, and poured out criticisms regardless of whether I fell or not...’
It might have been different if the situation he discovered upon opening the door had been even slightly ambiguous.
But looking at the scene fragmentarily, there was plenty of room to misunderstand that I was bullying Stella.
After all, there was the pitiful Stella, trembling with red eyes, and me, staring at her with a stiff expression while gripping her wrist roughly.
‘Strange. What on earth is happening to Raymond?’
The question lingered, but now was not the right moment to solve it.
I naturally let go of Stella's wrist and spoke nonchalantly.
“It is not a good idea to call the lady who is soon to be your fiancée to the banquet alone, Young Noble. Why don't you escort her from this point forward?”
“Martyr.”
“You should address me as Princess, Young Noble. You've already proven upon your entrance that your manners are the worst, so there's no need to show more.”
The moment I finished speaking, Raymond and Stella locked eyes.
Whatever communion passed between them was entirely irrelevant to me.
Thus, just as I was about to walk past them and leave the powder room—
“...What are you doing, Young Noble?”
Raymond, who had grabbed my wrist as I passed, stammered hesitantly.
When I tried to shake off Raymond's hand, he gripped me with much stronger force.
My brow furrowed involuntarily at the violent strength, which was enough to leave a bruise on my wrist.
I opened my mouth to say something again, but someone else spoke faster than I did.
“Raymond, it was all my fault!”
It was the female lead... speaking in a very clear, ringing voice.
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