I Transmigrated as an Extra in a Trashy Dark Romance Game - Chapter 8

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

* * *

“…Young Lady…! Young Lady!!”

It felt like she’d barely closed her eyes when someone noisily called out, waking her. The sharp voice pierced her eardrums from right beside her, and Edith forced her eyelids open.

“The Viscount has summoned you to lunch! Get up now!”

The maid Marie stood over her, arms crossed, shouting. Still groggy, Edith momentarily forgot about the transmigration before quickly snapping to and gathering her senses.

“Father? Why…?”

“How should I know! Maybe he’s curious about your whereabouts last night?”

Seeing Marie smirk with a raised eyebrow, Edith sighed, thinking of the ordeal she’d gone through that morning.

‘They know… Well, of course. I didn’t come back in the carriage with him. What should I say if he questions me?’

Worried, Edith found some small comfort that the maids weren’t being more openly contemptuous. Her body, still not recovered from yesterday’s fatigue, felt heavy like wet cotton as she dragged herself up.

Once ready and arriving at the dining room, Edith gave a slight bow to the Viscount seated across from her and took her seat.

“Edith, the Saintess is holding a tea party for unmarried young ladies and has sent you an invitation.”

Edith, who had been listlessly poking at the food before her, jolted at the Viscount’s words.

“The Saintess?!”

“Tsk, so excitable… I naturally sent a reply that you will attend. The social circles are currently speculating that the Crown Prince and the Saintess will become engaged. Use this opportunity to befriend the Saintess and secure a connection to the imperial family.”

The Viscount spoke while cutting into a thick steak, starting from lunch. His words were like a bolt from the blue, making Edith’s earlier worries seem trivial.

While she wasn’t being interrogated, a greater worry now occupied her mind, leaving her unsettled.

‘Attend a party hosted by the Saintess…?’

Edith, who wanted nothing more than to remain unnoticed, felt anxious. Yet, for some reason, she couldn’t refuse the Viscount’s command.

“Understood… Father.”

In an instant, the Viscount had shattered all her efforts to avoid the heroine. She sighed deeply, worried about the future, but took some small solace in the fact that the Viscount, who usually seized any chance to scorn her, clearly knew about last night but hadn’t said a word about it.

* * *

A few days after lunch with the Viscount, Edith arrived at the main estate of the Langor Count family, the Saintess’s birth family.

She had half-hoped that since he told her to “fit in well,” he might at least buy her a new dress, but strangely, she found it difficult to bring up such topics in front of the Viscount.

‘I wish I had transmigrated into a rich, happy side character…’

Feeling sorry for herself about missing out on wearing the pretty dresses of this romance fantasy world, Edith pouted for no reason. Even if she wanted to enjoy this world she’d transmigrated into, she was a young lady with too many constraints.

Following a servant’s guidance, she arrived at the Count’s conservatory. In stark contrast to the still-chilly weather outside, the temperature inside was warm. Flowers of spring and summer decorated the pillars and walls, and a long rectangular table sat in the center.

Edith was briefly puzzled by the seemingly small number of chairs—less than twenty. Are there really this few unmarried young ladies? she wondered, then thought perhaps only those residing in the capital had been invited.

Naturally, Edith chose the seat farthest from the head of the table, where the Saintess would likely sit—a spot no one else seemed to want.

Once the other young ladies arrived and were seated, the tea party could finally begin.

“I heard the Saintess grew up in a commoners’ village, yet your etiquette is so impeccable?”

‘Isn’t that just a veiled insult?’

Edith frowned at the blatant comment. She glanced at the Saintess’s reaction, but her face showed no sign of displeasure.

“Is it true you are to be engaged to His Highness the Crown Prince? They say he fell in love at first sight with your beauty. How romantic.”

“Exactly.”

This time, the comments shifted to fawning attempts. The conversation continued in this vein.

The tea party atmosphere was split half-and-half: half attempts to curry favor with the Saintess, and half gossip about the Empire’s Crown Prince.

‘The Saintess isn’t swayed by flattery anyway, and it was his first time meeting her that day—what romance?’

Caught in the middle, Edith quietly enjoyed her tea and dessert while mentally critiquing from her corner.

Before she knew it, the party ended. Feeling cheerful, thinking she’d successfully avoided entanglement with the heroine—her original goal—Edith hummed as she slipped out of the estate. She had succeeded in staying behind, hidden from the crowd seeing off the guests.

‘The desserts were exquisite, and they paired perfectly with the black tea.’

The Viscount’s instructions were forgotten. Lost in the joy of her success and praise for the tea and desserts, a sudden bodily signal forced her to seek a nearby maid’s help to use the restroom.

“Excuse me… Miss Moulton?”

Coming out in high spirits, Edith was startled by a voice calling her from behind and stumbled sideways.

[Saintess, Serenity Langor, Age 20]