Chapter 125
‘Wow. You really are something.’
If she hadn’t known any better, even Iora would have believed that the blonde girl was genuinely caught by surprise.
A dozen emotions flickered across those golden eyes in the brief moment they met her gaze. There was embarrassment and guilt over being seen together with her fiancé. But there was also the bright sparkle of curiosity and interest directed toward a girl she supposedly wanted to befriend. It was as if Iora were watching a master actress, one capable of controlling even the slightest tremor in her eyes to convey exactly the emotions she wanted in that instant.
“Iora! So you had lessons today!”
“……”
Oh, give me a break. Iora sneered inwardly. She was seriously going to pretend she didn’t know?
Arcanda sprang to her feet, a rosy blush blooming across her cheeks, her face lighting up with unmistakable delight at seeing Iora. Moved by that innocent expression, the damned maids immediately began whispering among themselves again.
Oh! Lady Arcanda is just as adorable as ever today. What if that wicked woman bullies our Lady Arcanda?
Just because she’s with His Imperial Highness doesn’t mean she can throw her weight around! I won’t let her get away with it!
How dare that fake saint ignore our saint’s greeting!
“Iora… I’ve been so worried because I haven’t seen you at all lately. I really wanted us to become close. But we never had the chance to talk, and I was so disappointed. That’s why I’m even happier to run into you like this. I truly am!”
It was complete nonsense. Arcanda had known perfectly well that Iora would be coming and had deliberately chosen to wait there.
And yet she wore that sickeningly innocent smile, looking at Iora as though she were both overjoyed to see her and apologetic at the same time.
‘If you’re really sorry, then maybe don’t do things you have to apologize for. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?’
Lying and acting at that level deserved an award for Best Actress. Seriously… there wasn’t actually some famous actress hiding inside her, was there? The thought sent a chill crawling down Iora’s spine, and she shivered.
“Iora! Um, about the way we parted last time… Are you still angry with me?”
What kind of greeting is that supposed to be? Iora thought. Angry? Angry about what?
Arcanda’s trembling eyelids made her look every bit the pitiful, heartbroken girl, the sort of sight that would effortlessly stir anyone’s sympathy. The maids quivered with indignation, and before long, every eye was fixed on Iora.
Including Crown Prince Ovid’s, as he slowly turned around.
‘Hm? That’s not what I expected.’
It caught her off guard.
How had it been in her previous life?
Whenever Arcanda looked this forlorn and grief-stricken, Ovid would already be staring at Iora with a face gone stiff and cold—as though silently warning her not to dare say another word to his girl.
There had been plenty of scenes like that in the original novel.
For example…
「“I’ve had enough of this, my lady. This time… ha… how could you possibly push Arcanda toward a moving carriage? Do you have any idea how badly she could have been hurt if I hadn’t been there?”
“I-I… I…”
The silver-haired young lady stood before the man, her face drained of all color.
He was supporting the unsteady girl in his arms, while the girl herself trembled as though paralyzed with fear.
After checking Arcanda’s condition, the Crown Prince turned his hateful gaze upon the silver-haired young lady standing before him.
“How many times must I tell you that I dislike you, my lady? Why do you insist on doing this to me?”
“O-Ovid… Please don’t.”
Even in moments like this, Arcanda was unfailingly kind.
What a lovable person she was.
A gentle warmth flickered across Ovid’s eyes as he looked at her, but it did nothing to quell his anger.
In a voice that was little more than a growl, the crown prince threatened the foolish noble lady who kept putting the woman he loved in danger.
“This must never happen again, my lady. That is, if you wish House Ribandt to remain standing.”」
Scenes like that appeared throughout the original novel.
What the real Iora had endured, however, was even worse.
She had done nothing, yet she was always the one being cursed, blamed, and made to suffer for crimes she hadn’t committed.
‘How irritating.’
She still hadn’t forgotten.
In the world before her death, Arcanda had always acted with complete confidence. Why? Because she was the beloved heroine.
She had even slapped herself across the face and demanded they see whose word would be believed. And true to form, Ovid hadn’t given Iora so much as the slightest chance to explain. He had simply declared, without hesitation, that Arcanda’s version of events was the truth.
Iora narrowed her eyes.
What remained most vividly in her memory was his resolute back. Supporting the collapsed Arcanda in his arms, glaring at Iora, and spouting utter nonsense about how he had once believed in her—such was their esteemed Crown Prince.
“My lady.”
“Your Highness.”
Ovid looked at her with an expression that suggested he was hesitating over something. Iora’s face hardened. It seemed he had recalled the way their last conversation had ended.
‘God, this is irritating.’
Annoyance and anger surged through her like a spark catching dry tinder.
Yet the only thing that appeared on her face was a cool, aristocratic smile—elegant, composed, and impossible to read.
She could not afford to show an opening.
Ignoring Arcanda entirely, Iora stepped forward first. Lifting the hem of her skirt in a graceful curtsy, she offered a proper noble’s greeting to the highest-ranking person present.
There was one thing Arcanda lacked, no matter how absurdly clever she was or how exceptional her memory had become thanks to protagonist’s privilege.
“It is an honor to stand before the Empire’s Glorious Little Sun.”
“That will do for the formalities, Lady Iora. Are you on your way back from your lessons?”
“Yes, that’s right. Though I certainly wasn’t trying to interrupt the two of you. Ah, sorry for disturbing you, Arcanda.”
A brief glance was enough for Iora to catch the moment Arcanda’s expression stiffened.
Why? Did you expect me to ignore the Crown Prince and greet you first? Or are you flustered because I’m not burning with jealousy?
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