Chapter 16

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: An Unexpected Encounter
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If I hadn't been played for a fool and left to my own devices, if someone had just given me advice about my skin—alas, I was so consumed with defeating Roena that I never had the luxury of personal time with Mother—perhaps I might have been a little less miserable.

Therefore, the sight of Marie approaching with a bowl of whitening paste as I reclined on the chaise lounge felt remarkably new.

With meticulous care, she began to apply the whitening paste to my face. Then, kneeling beside me, she combed through my hair with an ivory comb. We were waiting for the paste to dry.

Once the paste on my face had dried, she carefully washed it off with toner. I slipped into a robe as thin as a dragonfly's wing and headed for the bathroom. Marie's duties ended there. She would now go to prepare my bed.

In the bathroom, the maid assigned to my bath stood waiting respectfully in Marie's place. The tub, carved from stone, was filled with water infused with Roman chamomile. The harmonious scent, a blend of fresh herbs and rich apple, made my body languid.

As I leaned back in the tub and closed my eyes, the maid began to wash me, her hands moving diligently.

She rinsed my hair with a liquid made from clary sage and conditioned it with a rinse of wine and pearl powder. Of course, she also massaged every inch of my body with soft, fragrant oils.

I was sixteen. With two years remaining before my societal debut, I intended to spend that time cultivating my beauty to the fullest. Instead of buying frivolous things, I planned to spare no expense on items that would make me shine.

Having keenly felt how a woman's beauty could be a deadly weapon, it was crucial to me how captivating I could appear to others.

Roena had won everyone's affection not only through her almost idiotic goodness but also through her beauty—her skin, whiter and softer than anyone's.

Therefore, I had to become not a crow who luckily became a noble lady thanks to my mother, but an elegant swan, equal to any of them. No, I had to become a woman of even more radiant beauty.

A mysterious woman—as innocent as a child and as pure as a maiden, yet as wickedly alluring as a temptress of the night. Just like the courtesans of Philionne Alley, where Madame de Châteauroux had once belonged!

If only I could obtain their secret charm, the kind that could conquer any man, I would no longer fear Roena Vischwartz. Instead, I could look down on her and laugh.

The perfection of a lady could be learned from my great-aunt, Madame de La Vallière, but the mystical magic of becoming a woman who was both cunning and lovable, like a cat, was unattainable in this stuffy aristocratic world.

To crush Roena, I needed a subtle aura that could captivate everyone. An allure as secretive as the veil of night, yet dangerously sharp beneath the surface—one that demanded worship.

I needed an absolute coquetry, the kind that would make men willing to carry oil and leap into fire for my sake without hesitation. But how? From whom could I learn such things?

Discussing such matters with Madame de Châteauroux, the emperor's mistress, was too risky—assuming she would even reply to my letter—for what she needed now was a ‘lady’ of aristocratic perfection.

And it wasn't as if I could just march into Philionne Alley and pick out a courtesan.

Of course, before a lady's debut, courtesans were sometimes brought to the house to demonstrate the act of intercourse and methods of caress, but this was done under everyone's observation, making direct conversation impossible.

Ah, what was I to do? No matter how I wracked my brain, no suitable method or person came to mind. Everyone I had known in the past was a stickler for etiquette and rules to a fault.

My head aching from the problem, I didn't stop frowning until I had changed and gone to bed. Naturally, I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.

The sun rose quickly, and soon it was morning. Not only had I slept poorly from worrying all night, but my headache worsened thanks to Marie kicking the foot warmer in the next room. I climbed out of bed, my face haggard.

Seeing me stagger like an invalid, Mother shrieked. She was already terrified that I had been tormented by the maids again.

I had to work hard to reassure her. To my stepfather, who looked at me with a worried face, I vaguely explained that I was too excited about my upcoming lessons to sleep.

Having no appetite, I made do with a light soup and bread for breakfast, then went for a walk in a nearby park to soothe my throbbing head.

The well-manicured park was nearly empty, likely due to the early hour. Perhaps it was even more so because it was open only to the nobility.

Therefore, my encounter with that man, Theodore Beatrice, was almost pure chance. Had I not decided to cool my head while gazing at the park's lake, we would never have crossed paths.

Heavens. To think that sending Marie away on the excuse of a headache would lead to this misfortune!

He was sprawled out on a nearby hill, and even at this early hour, he had a woman in his arms, his hands engaged in what could only be described as fondling. Judging by the wine bottles scattered around him, he seemed quite drunk.

So, if he hadn't called my name and stopped me in my tracks, I would have ignored him and walked right past.

“Lady Vischwartz, I presume. Whoops. Please forgive my lack of courtesy; I am rather drunk.”

Even in his drunken state, his voice was so charming that it sparkled like a jewel. It was so seductive it made my knees weak.

But having seen him exude a secretive and sinister aura, this debauchee in his current disheveled state, toying with a woman, felt utterly foreign. I couldn't tell which was his true self.

As I stood hesitating, shocked by the unexpected meeting and unable to greet him properly, Lord Beatrice chuckled and tried to sit up.

He seemed to think I was offended by his behavior and thus not returning his greeting. After all, merely nodding from a reclining position, using drunkenness as an excuse, was indeed quite rude.

In any case, he tried to move to show proper courtesy, but his inebriated body wouldn't obey, creaking like a marionette on strings he couldn't control. It was a comical sight, like watching a scene from a play.

Several minutes passed, and after sweating about a cup's worth from his useless efforts, he seemed to realize his bravado was foolish. Forgetting a gentleman's dignity, he desperately asked the woman beside him for help.

This happened only after he had slipped several times, nearly planting his lips on the ground.

Therefore, had Theodore Beatrice delayed his judgment any longer, he surely would have ended up sprawled on the ground like a frog.

The object of his fondling, a woman in a dress so low-cut that her light brown areolas were faintly visible, was both incredibly seductive and beautiful. Her auburn hair, glowing like fire, perfectly complemented the passion gleaming in her eyes.

From the way her hands supported Theodore Beatrice to the glimpse of her pale nape, she exuded the air of a temptress who could bewitch any man. The natural sway of her hips as she walked was the pièce de résistance.

The fact that she looked younger than Lord Beatrice was hardly worth mentioning. She was a splendid rose in full bloom, enchanting the bees.

I took note of her beautiful face, her slender waist, her charmingly exaggerated smile, her magnificent dress and jewels that rivaled those of any noble lady—they were even stylish and pretty!—and her bold conduct, clinging to Theodore Beatrice's body as if she'd forgotten all shame.

Despite having clearly heard Lord Beatrice identify me as the lady of House Vischwartz, she feigned ignorance, possessing the audacity to wait for him to introduce her. She even gave me a bright, beaming smile.

Feeling somehow provoked and deeply displeased, I hastily declined Theodore Beatrice's greeting.

“Let me greet you again with the proper courtesy.”

“No, there's no need. I wasn't standing here waiting for a formal greeting. I shall take my leave now.”

“Oh, are you just going to leave?”

“Then what would you have me do? This situation is hardly beneficial for either of us.”

At my words, Lord Beatrice asked in confusion.

“Why do you say it's not beneficial?”

His eyes were clouded like an overcast sky on a rainy day, yet they held a beauty of their own. His dreamily unfocused pupils had a classic charm, like an illustration from an old book. His alcohol-slicked lips were gentle yet immature, like a child's.

Theodore Beatrice grinned like a mischievous boy and grabbed my hand. As I twisted my wrist to pull away, he began to plead childishly.

“Come, sit and talk with us. Pérignole will be your conversation partner.”

So the woman's name was Pérignole. The moment the lord finished speaking, she blinked her eyes with great exaggeration and pouted her lips. Then, with a daintily clenched fist, she lightly tapped his chest and whined with a nasal tone.

“My, asking me to be her conversation partner without a proper introduction. What a rude person the lady must think I am! Ah, you’re too much. I’d rather go back to the shop than be treated like this. I turned away all my reserved clients out of affection for you, my lord, and this is how you treat me?”

As she spoke, she naturally turned to look at me. She seemed to think that with hints like her scandalously revealing dress, her casual physical contact, the ‘shop,’ and ‘reserved clients,’ I would easily deduce her profession as a courtesan.

Therefore, she must have believed I would look at her with contempt and keep my distance. A typical noble lady, after all, would find the very presence of a ‘courtesan’ standing before her intolerable.

Come to think of it, there had been times in the past when rakish young lords brought high-class courtesans to parks and lakesides, earning the ire of many a noble lady.

They claimed that as honorable nobles, they simply could not stand in the same place as those ‘foolish wenches who only know how to spread their legs,’ and that being in the same vicinity as those shameless creatures made them fear an outbreak of plague.

It was so bad that the emperor, unable to ignore the ladies' complaints, had to enact a decree ‘prohibiting the entry of courtesans into places frequented by the nobility.’

To most people, that was what a courtesan was. The prevailing opinion was that even the desiccated corpse of a rat lying in a dark alley was cleaner than them. They were nothing more than slabs of meat hanging in a butcher's shop—cheap meat that everyone had had a taste of.

In a way, they were objects of fear. For while they offered their partners the fantastical, secret pleasures they craved, they could also bestow a terrible disease—syphilis.

Above all, to noblewomen, courtesans were a nuisance who bewitched their husbands and caused significant financial problems.