Chapter 92

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 92

Chapter Title: The Wiltro Count Couple's 10th Anniversary Party

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Today's party was the Wiltro Count couple's 10th wedding anniversary celebration.

Both came from prestigious families, and the Countess had served as godmother to countless ladies. As such, there were plenty of young guests in attendance.

Aunt chose the Wiltro Count couple's party for my debut. That makes sense.

"It's been a while, Countess."

The hostess, the Countess herself, greeted my aunt warmly.

"What a splendid party."

"If it meets Countess Ariéju's standards, then all our efforts were worth it."

After a few polite exchanges, the Wiltro Countess turned her gaze to me.

"And this little lady is...?"

I spread my skirt wide and curtsied deeply.

"Leblain Reset Duvered."

"Ah, yes... You're the little one, aren't you?"

The Countess's eyes sharpened as she sized me up, like an appraiser inspecting fine goods. It was a hallmark of high-society ladies—gauging a new child to see if she'd fit under their wing.

With factions always expanding, they scrutinized every unfamiliar young face.

The Countess's eyebrow twitched upward. But just as quickly, she flashed a bright smile, removed her glove, and offered her hand.

I shook it, grinning inwardly.

Perfect 140-degree curtsy. Nailed it.

How much blood, sweat, and tears had I poured into perfecting that greeting?

The Countess turned to my aunt.

"Please share your secret to raising such a refined child. Her poise is truly impressive."

"Oh, I didn't teach her anything special. I think she picked it up a few times from the estate's administrators—"

As the two conversed, people began to gather.

"A pleasure to meet you, little lady."

"Delighted to make your acquaintance."

"Far more elegant than I'd imagined."

I kept my composure amid the flood of greetings, smiling graciously without a hint of fluster. My aunt added in a tone laced with pride,

"—She was born that way."

"My goodness."

I felt a flush of bashfulness.

I didn't embarrass Aunt.

Good job, me!

I giggled to myself.

As my aunt chatted with the adults, the hostess called over a girl with jet-black hair from the group of children.

"Isabella, come meet the little lady."

"Yes, godmother."

Isabella approached and parted the crowd with a polite, "Shall we?"

Once among the children, she introduced herself first.

"I'm Isabella Hadello."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Hadello. I'm Leblain Duvered."

That sparked introductions and light chatter with the others.

"Which academy did you attend, Miss Duvered?"

"I studied with the vassals at our ducal castle."

That was when it happened.

"Then you must be an idiot, huh?"

A boy sauntered in, clutching his juice glass with both hands.

The children parted like the Red Sea, yielding the path meekly.

He was worth it.

Nils Ballua.

The second son of Duke Ballua.

Living in the capital, I knew we'd cross paths eventually. But I hadn't expected it so soon.

The horrific memories of that bully flooded back vividly.

[Why can't you just do my homework? Oh, you want a beating today, huh?]

[You rat!]

[Run, I said! Wahhh, cry for me!!]

The slap for refusing his homework.

The kick when I'd snuck into the kitchen at night, starving, to steal lettuce.

Forcing me to run like a horse despite my pain, laughing with his friends.

I hid my trembling hands in the folds of my voluminous skirt.

"Smart kids get invitations first, right?"

Nils addressed the pack of boys trailing him, and they nodded eagerly.

Isabella and the others wore awkward expressions, glancing around before one girl spoke up.

"Um, this is Lady Duvered of Duke Duvered's house..."

Nils shrugged at her words.

"So?"

He was ruder because I was a Duvered lady.

Duke Ballua despised Duke Duvered, after all.

In my second life, his sons Heyton and Nils had grown up drilled endlessly on never losing to Duvereds.

And in this life, I'd cost them the tea trade rights. How much more must they resent us?

Unable to challenge the three young masters directly, they'd targeted me.

"Studying with vassals instead of proper tutors? Yeah, I can guess how that went."

"And where do you study?"

"I'll enroll in the Imperial Academy soon."

I nodded with an "Aha" at his smug face.

"You must have gotten an invitation too."

His followers chimed in, "Of course."

"Nils is Duke Ballua's second son, descendant of the great sage."

"Duke Ballua personally tutored the First Prince."

"He's on another level."

Nils glared at me and shouted,

"Obviously! You think I'm some idiot like you? I've already deciphered and memorized the scriptures!"

"Whoa..."

Awe rippled through the children.

No kid that age memorized or deciphered the scriptures. That was high-level academy stuff, post-18 usually.

The scriptures, ancient texts, blended imperial tongue with archaic dialects—brutally tough to parse.

Asking "How well do you know the scriptures?" was idiomatic for measuring intellect among imperials.

The Ballua sycophants seized the flattery chance.

"Impressive."

"Just like a young Duke Duvered!"

"Even the Duvered young masters can't decipher them."

As eyes widened in shock, Nils, puffed up, began reciting.

"In the beginning, god and the shepherd were one amid chaos. Chaos descended upon this land, creating god and shepherd..."

The kids gasped at his fluent recitation, drawing adult stares too.

Soon a crowd encircled us.

"Can young Master Ballua already interpret the scriptures?"

A dark-red-haired noblewoman fanned herself vigorously.

"He takes after his father so much—clutching books and papers since he could toddle. Last year, he suddenly started deciphering the scriptures. I'm worried he'll end up buried in books like his father."

"What worry? I'm envious, Duchess Ballua."

Duchess Ballua smirked at her chattering son.

With all eyes on him, Nils grew even more excited.

"God created man from the shepherd's blood, and the shepherd loved his brothers dearly. To his starving siblings, he gave three potatoes, a handful of oats..."

"That's weird?"

All eyes snapped to me.

I tilted my head.

"Did you really interpret the scriptures? Something's off."

Nils's face twisted mid-stride.

"What's weird about it?!"

"It's not three potatoes and a handful of oats. The words in chapter 2, verse 7 read as 'potato' in imperial but mean 'sorrow' in ancient tongue."

"W-what?!"

"The shepherd shared 30% sorrow and 10% joy from his emotions. 'Starving' doesn't fit either—it's 'born into emptiness.'"

"Nonsense! I'm right! What do you know?! This is—"

"From the palace's deciphered version."

Not his own work—he'd smuggled out and memorized the palace copy.

Duchess Ballua begged Empress Ibenu to sneak the palace deciphered scriptures for her idiot son to enroll in the Imperial Academy.

Nils paled, pupils contracting, mouth flapping silently.

I smiled sweetly.

"I saw a copy in Her Majesty the Empress Dowager's library, but set it aside after spotting errors in a few pages."

"The Imperial Academy textbook has errors?!"

"The priests announced new interpretations of two ancient characters last week. You love newspapers—didn't you read it?"

"...!"

As Nils swallowed dryly, speechless, murmurs rose among the adults.

"Yeah, 'oats' does sound off."

"Usually it's 'barley.'"

Then my aunt and the hostess pushed through the crowd, staring at me.

The Countess asked, astonished,

"Little one, how did you read the scriptures?"

"I deciphered them when bored at the estate. So fun, time flies! But I'm almost done... such a shame."

I pouted deliberately, and Nils yelled,

"No way! Even my brother can't! The temple only got to chapter 8, verse 92!"

"God lost reason, the world fell into disorder, and the shepherd prayed 193 days for grieving humanity?"

"...!"

Gasps erupted instantly.

Amid the hand-clasped shock, I tugged my aunt's sleeve.

"Auntie, I wanna go to the palace library too. Must have fun books like the scriptures! Can I borrow some?"

"The palace library is off-limits except to royals and permitted scholars. Smuggling is illegal."

"But that boy read the palace scriptures..."

I tilted my head innocently. Duchess Ballua froze stiff.

With narrowed eyes and raised brows, I murmured slyly,

"So... did he break the law?"

Nils fidgeted, sensing something wrong.

You bet it's wrong.

The Imperial Academy—your life's pride—rejects anyone with a criminal record.

And soon, you and your mom are busted!

I beamed with pure, heartfelt innocence.