IDLYA 11

Unaware of Niveia’s inner thoughts, Rubiel was simply dazzled by the sparkling ballroom. She hopped around excitedly before innocently grabbing Niveia’s hand.

“Sister, my friends are over there. Can I go talk to them for a bit?”

“Of course. You can enjoy yourself until midnight. You know where the lounge is, right? If you get tired, go rest there.”

“Yes!”

Rubiel answered energetically and quickly left Niveia’s side.

Niveia watched the large satin ribbon tied at the girl’s back flutter as she disappeared into the distance, then slowly turned her gaze away.

The warmth she had shown moments ago vanished, leaving behind a doll-like, emotionless face.

‘Now I’m finally alone.’

In truth, even if Rubiel had wanted to stay longer, Niveia would have deliberately sent her away.

Because there was nothing good for Rubiel in staying by her side.

“Look at her shamelessness. Coming to a party right after breaking off her engagement.”

“A lowborn woman daring to show up here…”

“I suppose people of questionable blood feel a sense of kinship with each other.”

“Didn’t they say Duke Eustache would be attending today? What on earth is she thinking?”

Such words couldn’t even scratch Niveia—

but Rubiel would have been affected.

Rubiel would surely have taken those harsh words to heart.

And although Rubiel, as the heir of the Solen family, might not be directly criticized, being with Niveia could cause people to lump them together.

Niveia had brought her as a pretext, but she didn’t want Rubiel to get caught in the crossfire.

‘Besides, it’s easier to meet Joachim XII alone.’

With an indifferent gaze, Niveia slowly scanned the ballroom.

Today’s event was a welcome party for the delegation from Winfrit, ongoing for a week since their arrival.

Naturally, the centerpiece of the party—Joachim XII, Arendt Timotheus Joachim—was also present.

Silver-blue hair, striking features, and an easy, affable smile.

There were few people who could so effortlessly win others’ favor.

The moment Niveia saw Arendt, she knew he was the person she had been looking for.

Meeting him wouldn’t be difficult.

The problem was how to approach him.

‘I can’t just follow him recklessly.’

Approaching someone surrounded by a crowd like that would only backfire.

She needed to create a situation where she could be alone with him.

But how?

‘I can’t exactly kidnap him… What should I do?’

As she pondered how to create an opportunity, a familiar voice came from behind her.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Lady Solen.”

Niveia turned around.

Pink hair, slightly swollen cheeks barely concealed with makeup—and unmistakable hostility.

Recognizing the person, Niveia widened her eyes slightly before immediately offering a gentle smile.

“…Fancy seeing you here, Lady Eustace.”

She had found her method.

What perfect timing.

Niveia thought so to herself.

Despite having been thoroughly humiliated by Niveia not long ago, Lady Eustace seemed completely undeterred.

Or perhaps she had come determined to repay the humiliation.

Either way, it worked in Niveia’s favor.

Emotional people were easy to handle.

As Niveia greeted her calmly, Lady Eustace raised the corners of her lips, pretending elegance.

“It’s been a while. I wonder how you’ve been. I heard you went through quite an unfortunate incident. I do hope your delicate mind and body weren’t too harmed.”

“I broke off my engagement. Thank you for your concern, but I fail to see how that concerns you. You seem quite interested in other people’s private affairs.”

There were no thorns in Niveia’s words.

She spoke with plain, emotionless honesty.

Most people would have taken offense at such blunt dismissal—but not Lady Eustace.

Instead, she seemed pleased by Niveia’s compliance and lifted her chin even higher.

“How could it not concern me? I was there to witness the entire scene. After all, you showed that side of yourself in front of His Grace. And then to hear the engagement was broken—I can’t help but worry. It’s such a shame I was the only one who saw that side of you.”

She deliberately emphasized those words, drawing attention.

Her intentions were obvious.

She wanted to humiliate Niveia publicly.

It was such a shallow tactic it was almost boring.

But Niveia had no intention of avoiding it.

Because this situation—drawing people’s attention—was exactly what she wanted.

‘Are enough people gathering?’

She discreetly glanced around.

Curious onlookers were slowly gathering.

‘Not enough.’

She needed more.

To catch a big fish, one must cast a wide net.

So she decided to play along.

First—she would provoke her.

“I, too, regret that I was the only one who saw you crying like a child. If I recall, your cheeks were quite swollen, weren’t they?”

A mocking smile curved across her previously expressionless face.

Even a hint of feigned innocence.

“Oh, my mistake. I wasn’t the only one. My former fiancé was there as well.”

“Th-that’s right.”

Caught off guard by Niveia’s sudden shift, Lady Eustace stammered before quickly regaining composure.

She lifted her chin again and smiled.

“Of course I remember. His Grace was kind enough to comfort me while I was crying.”

“My former fiancé was indeed a kind man.”

“I’m very grateful to you, Lady Solen. Thanks to you, I was able to spend more intimate time with him.”

“Anyone would do the same for someone who was injured and crying. Don’t assign meaning where there is none.”

That part, at least, was sincere.

Valer had only attended to Lady Eustace because she was hurt.

Niveia knew that better than anyone.

But Lady Eustace mistook it for desperate jealousy.

Smiling like a victor, she sneered.

“How pathetic, Lady Solen. Even after being cast aside, you still envy me.”

Her tone grew increasingly aggressive.

“And to shamelessly show your face at a party after being discarded… no wonder His Grace grew sick of you.”

Her words, laced with ridicule, became openly vicious.

The gathered crowd watched with amusement, and the more they did, the more arrogant she became.

Which was exactly what Niveia wanted.

To strip away all the polite, indirect speech of nobility—and attack openly.

“His Grace is the one I pity. Ten years wasted on a woman as clingy as you. Or is that simply a trait of lowborn people? I wouldn’t know.”

Niveia let her words pass like background noise as she scanned the crowd.

As expected, most were merely spectators.

They always were.

She knew that no matter how much she was torn apart, they wouldn’t intervene.

The nobles of the Thierry Empire, who had always mocked and scorned her, would never suddenly sympathize with her.

If anything, they might join in.

Even behind their fans, their laughter couldn’t be hidden.

Standing like prey before them, Niveia listened to the familiar sound of ridicule.

A heavy sense of helplessness coiled around her legs like a snake.

Each gaze felt like jaws tearing at her limbs.

Mockery. Contempt.

Those were the emotions directed at her.

No matter how used to it she was, the only thing she could do in such a situation was refrain from screaming.

In Thierry society, it was nothing new for a crowd to isolate one person completely.

But what if an outsider saw this scene?

Someone unfamiliar with Thierry’s social customs?

What would they think of this grotesque spectacle—of a group collectively stoning a single woman?

To be honest—

this was a gamble.

A gamble based on the kindness she had glimpsed in Joachim XII.

The warmth in his voice when he smiled even at his knight’s mockery.

The man who claimed to hate love, yet still showed consideration for the woman he would marry.

If it were him—

he wouldn’t simply stand by and watch this.

She was certain of it.