Chapter 62 – Blossoming Friendship (II)
380 1 18
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

After making sure I was in no danger of drowning in old memories, I observed my guests. They were looking on curiously, obviously intrigued, but I must give them more. For instance, a proper lady, with an insider’s account on what Catherine was really like, a much more reliable source that would grossly contradict the beguiled girl…

“I’m sorry again, Lady Valentina, for being so late. I got away from my meeting as soon as I could!”

A dramatic entrance, made by the woman I personally trained into a perfect aristocrat. The pitiful stepmother, tormented by having to live under the same roof as a girl picked up from the streets, who was in all practical sense a commoner! Lady Bryant glided to our table, and smiling, I embraced her. 

“Don’t worry about it in the slightest, my dear baroness. Everyone, Lady Bryant just came from a business meeting, since as you know, she runs several ventures, and she’s simply wonderful at it!”

It was a double win. In the novel, the baron presumably took control over the assets Ratched left to his daughter. Now, I had long encouraged Lady Bryant to remain active in helping her father with his businesses throughout her marriage, and she had separate accounts from her husband, collaborating closely with House Avington. If needed, she had a small pool of wealth she would gladly offer to assist me, and it helped her image and personal security as well. 

A murmur of approval arose. Lady Bryant turned to me. 

“You flatter me too much, Lady Valentina! Why, you’ve been managing businesses for the grand duchy since you were fourteen!”

“It’s only my duty, after all.”

A small figure attacked my legs, hugging them. I had told Lady Bryant to bring her, just to rub it in with Catherine that I had a closer relationship with her family than she did. 

“Lady Valentina! I missed you!”

“Aww, did you get taller, Briana?”

Catherine’s little half-sister was a cute child of eight, with bright blonde hair and blue eyes. Spoiled like a proper noble child, and like her mother, she positively adored me, since I encouraged pampering her to make Catherine’s life as miserable as possible, and the occasional small trinkets I gave her. 

I glanced at Catherine, who appeared surprised but not displeased. She greeted Lady Bryant, who acknowledged it with a cool nod. Briana stuck out her tongue at her. With an absolutely sweet smile, I steered the conversation back to topic. 

“We were just talking about Catherine’s uncle. Mr Sawyer, I believe his name is? What do you think of him, Lady Bryant?”

She met my eyes knowingly and put on her best disapproving expression. Truly my star pupil. 

“To be honest, I can’t say I like him very much. My instincts tell me that he is of a completely suspicious character! No manners at all, even less than your average peasant, but with all the entitlement in the world. He gives me the creeps, and I feel indeed that he is vile!”

The disgust, slight fear, revulsion, and mixed with much indignance, were perfect. It wasn’t about the words themselves, but her composure and assured manner that made her statements facts. Everyone’s attention was glued to her and the charisma that I had single handedly helped her develop, hanging onto her words with gleaming eyes. The beasts had seen blood, and leaped upon it. 

“But Lady Catherine told us the complete opposite! Surely, there is a misunderstanding?”

“Poor Lady Catherine…you know, they say some peasant men are most peculiar, in extremely disturbing ways…”

“I think there can be no doubt Lady Bryant’s instincts are correct! Never trust a peasant, I say. They’re like leeches, so totally uncivilized!”

“Yet Lady Catherine was raised among them…Oh, dear, dear.”

“Really, tell us, Lady Catherine. Just the facts, and we’ll take it from there. Has your so-called uncle ever laid a hand on you? In any way?”

I watched with smug satisfaction as Catherine’s face turned bright red. 

“N-no, never! Uncle would never hit me, he’s very kind! I-I don’t know if there’s-”

Of course, it wouldn’t be anything physical, just psychological, but to the others, it only made it sound more questionable. I shot Delilah a glance, but I didn’t have to, as she knew her cue for yet another critical blow. 

“Everyone, please. I read a study that children raised in a barbaric nature are taught to never speak of it, and may not even be aware that certain conduct is inappropriate. It’s very unfortunate, so let us not pressure Lady Catherine further.”

“I-I wasn’t- Uncle isn’t-”

“Mr Sawyer is a really really bad man!”

Briana, bless that smart child, cut off Catherine’s attempted explanation with her own childish honesty and her large innocent eyes. The words of a pure child were enough to be taken as gospel truth, and the table fell silent in a state of nervous excitement. Catherine tried to talk, but couldn’t. Lady Bryant broke the quiet with just the right amount of hesitation.

“Certainly, children’s imagination often runs wild, but sometimes, they do see right through people, don't they? Alas, I must say, I don’t feel quite safe, living in the same house as that man. I don’t know how Lady Catherine could stand it, for so many years.”

Heads turned to Catherine again, this time with a blend of horror, aversion, and morbid curiosity. Desperately, she tried to defend the dignity she never had. 

“I’m very sorry, Lady Bryant, but there’s some sort of mistake-”

Annalise caught my eye. With an understanding smirk, she cocked her head and waved a hand through the air.

“Lady Catherine, perhaps you aren’t the best judge of that. After all, what kind of girl does some degenerate raise a child into? One that can never be called a lady, doubtlessly, likely sick in the head with her own perversions.”

She spoke so kindly that it took a moment for Catherine to register. The girl blinked slowly, her mouth hanging slightly open. My other guests were faster to catch on and had no generosity, with all the viciousness of wild animals. 

“Even someone noble by blood can be raised into a horrible mess, I think.”

“Absolutely. But did you hear? They say she might not even be the baron’s child…”

“It can’t be helped, but I hear the stuff one learns as a child is for forever.”

“Some peasants do extraordinarily appalling things to their children, and they end up all horrendous, like the ones they raised them.”

“Do you think it’s contagious? I’m scared sitting here.”

I casually sipped my tea, listening to the lovely melody of a female lead’s reputation going to ruins. Poor Catherine was trying very hard to be heard over the chatter, but no one would listen. Her eyes were welling up…oh, no. Tears had the power to instantly inflict some degree of guilt, and I couldn’t have that. 

Well, we’d had enough fun that my guests would remember to share this newest gossip with all their friends, which was everyone. It was time for the next act, presenting myself to Catherine as a saviour along the way. 

“Oh, don’t let us talk more about this strange affair on such a fine day! Weren’t you all curious about my marriage with Prince Oscar?”

A royal relationship was one of the only things capable of attracting a horde of aristocrat girls hunting for gossip, over all else. In the end, Catherine was a mere baron’s daughter, and any scandal she had was insignificant compared to the future queen.

The girls sat there, waiting like hungry dogs. Catherine looked at me gratefully, wiping her eyes quickly, but I purposefully didn’t look at her directly. This was for me, too. 

“I’ve made up my mind that I simply can’t wait. We’re going to get engaged as soon as I turn eighteen!”

A small round of gasps, exclamations, and congratulations rose. It wasn’t as intense as their ruthless preying on Catherine, driven by the cruel disposition of humanity, and was instead the natural desire of young ladies for a pretty romance. 

In their eyes, we were the ideal couple. Beautiful, intelligent, powerful. All one could ask for. Personally, I was just glad he liked me enough to tolerate keeping up appearances, better than in the novel, when he couldn’t even bother with that. This image of us was all I had, but I wielded it with pride. 

“Lady Valentina and His Highness are just so perfect together!”

“I know, right? They’re a match made in heaven! Like a fairytale!”

“It’s so fitting, the saint and the future king.”

“Engaged so soon! Ah, it must be like a wonderful dream.”

I stole a glance at Catherine, who appeared slightly pale. Not yet recovered from the last assault, she was probably fearing whatever would befall her if she dared to take my fiance. I smiled, before slowly changing my expression to one of regrettable woe.

“Oscar’s wonderful, and I adore him with all my heart, and I’m certain he feels the same. It distresses me so much that there is such gossip about him, just because he’s the crown prince. He can dance with someone, and there’d be a story on it! It upsets me terribly.”

I was immediately comforted and drowned in soothing words, likely because of the guilt many of my guests felt, given that they were active participants in said gossip. Catherine looked mildly sick, and I resisted the urge to laugh. 

“It’s selfish, I know, and awfully possessive of me, but as impossible as it is, I can’t help but wish that everyone would just stay away from him. There’d be less talk, and we’d finally both be happy in peace.”

After avoiding her gaze for a while, I stared right at Catherine as I spoke these words. She met my eyes and flinched, her cheeks reddening once more. If her kindness was true, then at least I could delight in tormenting her conscience. If I were very lucky, maybe it’d break her from her uncle. 

Satisfied with the day’s course of events, I let the tea party run its course. It was highly pleasurable, my guests telling fantastic stories I expected less than half to be true. Whenever Catherine tried to join the conversation, she was shunned and politely ignored, with repulsed glances cast her way. It was fun. 

With my firm power in high society, there was now a secure wall blocking Catherine out, but with me as her only friend. For in the end, the best villainess was one thought to be a saint.

18