A spacious, well-lit room with floor-to-ceiling windows. On the other side of the glass, autumn rain trickles down to hydrate the garden. The ground is mottled with orange and brown leaves. Inside the room, tens of circular marble tables line up neatly in rows. The puffed up ball dresses of several noble ladies conversing across the room, whether seated or standing, obscure the tiled floor.

Janet pressured me to attend her post-wedding social party because in the end, I wasn't able to attend her wedding reception (I refused) or dinner party (I escaped the palace). At the centre of the room is Janet, the focus of today's tea party, owing to her recent wedding celebration. Seated at her large table are all high profile nobles, which included the princesses and Rosette.

I had no intention of going near that table where the spotlight was, so I ended up sitting at one of the tables further away where there were less aristocratic women crowding about. The small table is tucked away by the shadow of the tall potted plant beside, so it's the perfect place for others to overlook you.

Ruby is on her way back to Inich Town (she had a very short break), and Cecile made prior arrangements with Duke Cannes. So I ended up sitting with a group of strangers.

Looking around my table, I notice two mob noble ladies with mediocre faces and dresses. Then, I realise I'm seated next to Elise. (Refer to Chapter 18. Or Glossary.)

Elise, the Count’s daughter who had an arranged marriage into a Marquis family. The girl who screamed profanities at the social norms and laughed boisterously while swinging a sword.

But I could hardly recognise the girl seated beside me.

Her small figure is squeezed into a corset. Her face is pale from powder, yet it failed to hide the sunken eyes and the deep eye bags. Her eyes no longer sparkle, her vibrant personality vanished as though sucked into vast nothingness.

When Elise meets my gaze, she returns a feeble smile. “It has been long since we last met. How are you doing, Miss Tina?”

Estranged politeness.

Observing her, it was as if someone had shattered her soul and left the remaining shards on the seat beside me.

“… Lady Foster,” I begin, but fail to continue. What do I say? 

I wasn't particularly close to Elise, but I remember her fondly from the short time I worked with her.

“You can comfortably call me Elise, Miss Tina. Besides, I am no longer a Foster, but a Beaumont.” She tries to smile, yet her raised lips seem to embody more pain than delight.

A Beaumont. It was as I predicted. She couldn’t avoid the arranged marriage.

However, I fully expected a happy ending. Elise had such a bright personality of a strong female lead, the male lead was supposed to come to love all of her unconventional characteristics. 

So… what is this mess?

“Oh my goodness, Lady Beaumont! What a surprise to see you socialising!” A woman greets Elise from a table next to us. She unfolds her fan, taking an ‘attack' stance. “How is Marquis Beaumont?”

Why is this woman asking about Elise’s husband?

Elise doesn't answer, her indifferent eyes look fed up at this confrontation.

As if she’s been through this several times.

Why?

Even though it’s an arranged marriage, Elise is the 'Marchioness' Beaumont. With such being the case, she shouldn’t even be sitting in this isolated table, but somewhere in the centre where many socialites gather. Added to that, this unknown woman is clearly provoking Elise.

“I was disappointed that I couldn't convey my appreciation to Marquis Beaumont for inviting me to the theatre play the other day." She feigns sadness, but her eyes hold a condescending glint. Her sneer is hidden beneath her fan. “Please pass on my gratitude for the candle lit dinner at Carlotta.”

Small gasps rise from the mob ladies in our table. Carlotta is one of the high-end expensive restaurants which requires a long booking process to even get a seat. It's a romantic date spot for rich nobles in the capital city.

When the woman fails to get a reaction out of Elise, she giggles and walks away to another table.

“Elise. Look at me.” I reach for Elise’s hand. I can still feel the calluses from her sword training when my fingers brush against hers.

Elise, when I first met her, was a seventeen year old girl who aspired to be a knight. Yet sitting beside me was an empty shell of what used to be a bright teenager. Only god knows what kind of fuckery she went through to get to this stage.

I couldn’t bear to remain indifferent. 

I don't consider myself to be a saint. Actually, quite the opposite. I find myself pretty evil.

I selfishly remain apathetic towards many things in order to live my life as a mob character. There were situations I could’ve interfered, but chose to remain a bystander. I hated and blamed myself on sleepless nights, and kept wondering if I made the correct decision.

Then after falling asleep to those thoughts, I wake up to my usual indifference.

Like I never had a dilemma to begin with.