Chapter 39

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 135

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I couldn't take my eyes off Rihart for a while as he stood by Countess Milrad's side.

The Holy Knight Captain, dispatched to capture the Demon Worshippers, showing up at the party out of nowhere.

I wasn't the only one surprised—the other nobles were sending curious glances his way, too.

Countess Milrad looked quite pleased with the attention. She opened her mouth with a delighted expression.

"There's something I'd like to show everyone who attended today's party."

Countess Milrad didn't explain what it was.

She simply flashed a meaningful smile, as if it were some big secret.

Still, there was one thing I could infer. It had to be something connected to the Holy Knight Captain standing over there.

"So please, enjoy the party."

With that, the applause rippled through the banquet hall, signaling the end of her announcement.

She'd kept whatever she was planning a secret from me, which left a nagging unease.

[Be careful around Countess Milrad.]

Arjen's warning suddenly flashed through my mind.

Right then, I felt a persistent gaze fixed on me.

Cold blue eyes.

My eyes met Rihart's, but I turned my head away, pretending to be nonchalant.

He's the last person I wanted to face right now.

"The world sure has changed a lot these days."

A red-haired woman glanced at me sidelong.

"People who never would have dreamed of it back in the day are climbing the social ladder and worming into high society."

"......"

"There are so many buying their way into noble status now. As if that blood of theirs suddenly turns pure or something. Right, Camilla?"

The chilling stare she fixed on me flipped to wide-eyed innocence, like it had never happened.

The people around us sucked in a breath at the red-haired lady's question.

"I'm not sure what blood you're talking about, but it's definitely an era that values talent over lineage. In times like these, does blood really matter that much?"

High society was dominated by conservative nobles far more than progressive ones.

The younger crowd was at least inching forward...

"Oh, just so you don't misunderstand—I mean, Camilla, you're not like them."

She clasped her hands together, looking worried I'd take it the wrong way.

"Unlike them, you didn't buy your noble status, did you?"

"......"

"Unlike those upstarts strutting into high society now that 'times have changed,' types like you have been around forever. Who could blame you?"

She was beating around the bush to say it to my face.

Whether it was commoners buying titles to infiltrate high society or me slipping in as the marquis's mistress.

Both were repulsive to her.

She clearly despised anyone without noble blood stirring up noble society.

At her foolish openness in showing her disdain, I smiled faintly, ready to reply with forced politeness.

"Lady Claret, you take after your father quite a bit."

A young lord nearby cut into the conversation.

He must have known the red-haired lady—her eyes lit up.

"Long time no see, Lord Paello. But what do you mean I take after my father?"

"Lady Claret's father says much the same about her. It makes me think he's passed down his wisdom well."

"......Father does say things like that a lot."

"He must be so proud. I read about him in a newspaper recently."

In that instant, all the color drained from the red-haired woman's face.

"......That's not a newspaper—it's cheap tabloid trash! Don't buy into their wordy nonsense."

She spat those inexplicable words and stormed off.

For some reason, the back of her neck was flushed red.

Putting her expression together with the sudden exit, she looked mortified.

I glanced curiously at the young lord called Paello, and he smiled back at me.

"It's circulated among plenty of nobles—hardly 'cheap tabloid' material."

"What's in it to get Lady Claret reacting like that?"

"The Claret family's latest venture tanked hard. And that rag ran a piece blaming part of the failure on their conservative mindset."

"Ah."

"It was quite the joke around high society for a while."

He shrugged with a hint of regret.

He'd appeared out of nowhere to help me, but it wasn't all that surprising.

High society fell into two camps: ones like Lady Claret, who saw mistresses as lowly scum and hated them on principle.

And ones like this lord, cozying up to me for future gains.

It had happened constantly since becoming Arjen's mistress—nothing new.

'Status really is something.'

It was a thought I'd been having more and more lately.

The young Lord Paello who helped me winked before leaving.

'Pointless anyway, since I'll split from Arjen in a year.'

As I dismissed it, a sharp gaze prickled from somewhere. I turned to find Rihart staring at me.

'Did he figure it out?'

That I'm Rozhi.

But as if it were mere coincidence, Rihart flashed a bright smile and looked away.

I kept my eyes on Countess Milrad.

Rihart was still glued to her side.

'I need to get close...'

But with him there, it wouldn't be easy.

'They'll stick together till the party's over.'

No helping it. I'd have to push through.

Fortunately—or not—plenty of people were swarming Rihart to schmooze, which might screen me.

I cut across the banquet hall toward Countess Milrad.

"Oh my, isn't that..."

"Ah, that's the one..."

I'd forgotten.

I was something of a celebrity myself.

The moment I moved, eyes locked onto me.

No diverting attention now, and backing off wasn't an option.

I pressed on toward Countess Milrad, figuring I'd at least say hello.

And that's when it happened.

"Kyaa!"

"Ugh!"

A lady holding a wine glass twisted sharply and crashed into me.

My shoulder throbbed from the impact. But the real problem...

"Heek! Your dress... Are you all right?"

The lady went pale seeing my chest soaked in wine.

I was at a loss, too.

'This was pricey...'

No, that wasn't the point.

Forget enjoying the party now—I couldn't even approach Countess Milrad like this.

"I'm so sorry. I should have looked behind me..."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

But now what?

Right then, Countess Milrad approached, drawn by the commotion.

"Oh dear, your dress is soaked."

"......Countess Milrad."

"It'll be hard to enjoy the party like this. Would you like to borrow a dress of mine?"

Countess Milrad suggested offhandedly.

This was beyond unexpected.

"Not sure if the size will fit. I can't give you anything out of fashion, so it'll have to be one from my current wardrobe... But after childbirth and putting on weight, I need a few sizes up from what society ladies wear, don't I?"

Countess Milrad gave a shy laugh.

"Still, with the laces tightened, it should look lovely on you."

I wasn't noble-born, so 'lady' didn't quite fit, but she'd treated me with respect the whole time.

"You have such a beautiful figure, Lady. I was just like that back in the day."

With that, she handed me the dress a maid had brought—personally.

"You're still beautiful yourself."

"Oh my, such pretty words to match your pretty face."

On the surface, she seemed like a genuinely nice person.

But Arjen had warned me about her. For someone as bold as him to steer clear, there had to be something off about Countess Milrad.

Even so.

'This is a golden opportunity.'

How often would I get her alone?

I opened my mouth to strike up a conversation.

"Madam, you need to come out right away."

A servant called from outside at the worst possible moment.

"What is it?"

"......It's urgent."

Mindful of my presence, he didn't elaborate.

"Lady, give me a moment. Change into the dress I gave you and wait here."

The countess excused herself and slipped out of the room.

Alone now, I changed into her dress and waited patiently in the room.

And waited.

A long while passed with no sign of the countess. I cautiously stepped out.

But the hallway outside was deserted.

Standing alone in the shadow-swallowed corridor sent a chill down my spine.

'Why's it so empty?'

Servants had been stationed there when we entered together.

Then, a noise echoed from the far end of the hall.

"Ughhh..."

What was that?

Someone was down there...

An ominous feeling crept in, like trouble was brewing. I edged slowly toward the sound.

Just before rounding the corner.

"Aaack!"

"Heek!"

A man—likely the source of the scream—burst out.

We collided head-on, no time to dodge. His body pitched forward, and I couldn't support the weight—mine buckled backward.

"Ugh."

I hit the floor hard on my rear, tears stinging my eyes.

"Hey..."

I grabbed his shoulder to shove him off, and something slick coated my hand.

I yanked back reflexively and stared at it.

"......Blood?"

I looked up at him in horror.

"......Save me, please."

His eyes were wild and unfocused, mumbling insanely like he'd lost his mind.

I knew that face.

The man who'd helped me back in the banquet hall.

Why was he here...

"I told you not to run."

A shoe tip emerged from around the corner.

I looked up blankly.

And locked eyes with Rihart—bloodied sword in hand.