If one were to be precise, Rianel’s half-brother, whom she had met at the imperial palace, had only hinted at something resembling an arranged marriage.
“The part about Rianel’s stepmother pushing for his political marriage? That’s from the original story.”
Come to think of it, after the original story concluded, Rianel did enter into an arranged marriage. Perhaps it had been with the Countess of Corindel’s daughter.
“That must be it! The name sounds so familiar.”
A sudden chill ran down Penelope’s spine.
She discreetly scanned the room, searching for a way to slip out unnoticed.
But Baroness Einsha was quicker.
“What a lovely evening, Lady Corindel.”
The Countess’s daughter paused briefly before responding, clearly reluctant.
“...Indeed, a pleasant evening, Baroness Einsha.”
The young woman’s gaze flitted briefly to Penelope before looking away. Penelope barely managed to maintain her polite smile.
“Stop! Whatever misunderstandings you have, they have nothing to do with me!”
Unaware of Penelope’s desperate inner plea, Baroness Einsha lightly fanned herself and spoke to the countess’s daughter.
“I hear your mother has been exceptionally busy lately. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but it seems there isn’t a corner of society she hasn’t peeked into.”
“...Is that so? Unfortunately, I’m not privy to such details.”
Visit freёwebnovel.com for the 𝑏est n𝘰vel reading experience.
“Oh dear, but you should know. I heard she even went as far as to visit Count Lant, a widower, in her efforts to find you a match. It was quite pitiful to witness.”
The Countess’s daughter clenched her lips, her gaze fixed firmly on Baroness Einsha, who returned the look with a faintly condescending smile.
“It seems not all nobles are equal. Take Baroness Halo, for instance—she has elevated the dignity of her title through her own efforts. Meanwhile, some mothers scurry about trying to barter their daughters away.”
“...So, what exactly are you trying to say to me?”
“Perhaps you could ask your mother to refrain from visiting gambling dens. It’s embarrassing to hear such sordid rumors at the salon. As a fellow noble, it’s utterly mortifying.”
The Countess’s daughter bit her lower lip, her cheeks flushing red with indignation.
Penelope broke out in a cold sweat.
“Why am I being dragged into this power play?”
She barely knew Baroness Einsha beyond a few passing encounters, yet the current situation made it seem as though they were close allies—a dynamic Penelope found deeply unsettling.
“I need to pretend I didn’t see this and make a break for it.”
Just as Penelope was timing her escape, a low voice interrupted.
“Ah, here you are.”
“...!”
The unexpected sound made Penelope’s heart sink. Turning around, she saw Rianel approaching her.
Clad in a sleek black suit adorned with a gemstone brooch in place of a tie, Rianel cut a striking figure that turned heads even from afar. His elegant yet commanding presence was impossible to miss.
“...Flawless, as always,” someone murmured in awe, and the noblewomen’s gazes turned even more curious and intrigued.
Rianel briefly hesitated upon noticing the Countess’s daughter but quickly dismissed it and strode toward Penelope with an air of composure.
“It’s been a while.”
“Oh, come to think of it, it has. You must have been busy lately.”
“Yes, I’ve had several matters to attend to.”
“I see.”
Penelope’s mouth felt dry as she spoke. The stares directed at her were so blatant that they were impossible to ignore.
Seemingly unbothered by the attention, Rianel addressed Penelope as though they were the only two in the room.
“Are there any dishes here you’d recommend? I’d appreciate your suggestions.”
“Oh, the champagne was quite nice. Sweet and refreshing, really...”
Penelope trailed off, struggling to choose her words carefully.
“Saying I need to use the restroom feels awkward. Maybe I should say I’m heading to the lounge instead.”
As though reading her mind, Rianel offered, “You seem rather tired. Shall we find a place where you can sit more comfortably?”
“Well, that does sound nice, but...”
Penelope wanted to go alone—and ideally to a place where no one could find her.
She deliberated how to explain this to Rianel when another voice suddenly cut in.
“If this conversation is over, I’d like to excuse myself now.”
Startled, Penelope turned to see the Countess’s daughter standing close by, fixing Baroness Einsha with a steady, piercing gaze.
“...”
The deep green eyes of Yvette, the Countess of Corindel's daughter, were chillingly cold, enough to make Baroness Einsha flinch.
With a voice as icy as her gaze, Yvette spoke, “Whatever my mother is up to has nothing to do with you, Baroness. Moreover, I wasn’t aware we were close enough for you to make such comments to me.”
“I was merely offering some advice out of concern,” Baroness Einsha replied, refusing to back down.
Yvette let out a sigh filled with exasperation.
“Don’t worry yourself. I’m already living a difficult enough life without your concern.”
“Wh-what did you say?”
Baroness Einsha gawked at her, clearly flustered. Yvette’s eyes gleamed sharply as she continued.
“I’ve always wondered why the noble ladies of the capital are so deeply invested in others’ affairs. But to think you call it concern—that’s truly surprising.”
“Your words are becoming excessive, Lady Corindel,” Baroness Einsha snapped.
“Who here is truly excessive, I wonder? Do you think openly criticizing someone’s mother is acceptable? Or perhaps it’s because spreading rumors behind someone’s back isn’t enough for you, Baroness?”
Baroness Einsha’s gaze wavered, her composure clearly shaken.
The surrounding noblewomen, who were well aware of the baroness’s penchant for gossip, exchanged meaningful glances.
Penelope, meanwhile, wanted nothing more than to go home and collapse onto her bed.
“Someone, please save me... I should’ve just endured my hunger. What a disaster this is.”
Baroness Einsha tightened her grip on her fan before retorting, “If I truly wanted to be excessive, I could’ve mentioned how your mother came to my estate to borrow money. Perhaps I should have started with that.”
“And? Did you lend her the money?”
“W-what?”
“If you’ve lent her the money and wish to offer advice, then I’ll gladly accept it.”
“....”
At that, Baroness Einsha was rendered speechless. The verdict was clear—Yvette had won this round.
“To cause such an embarrassing scene while Baroness Halo is watching... how disgraceful.”
The more Yvette thought about it, the more infuriated she became by Baroness Einsha’s behavior.
In truth, Yvette was one of Penelope’s secret admirers.
She had found Penelope’s green herb soaps and cosmetics incredibly effective, finally ridding herself of the freckles and blemishes that had plagued her for years.
Because of this, Yvette had been eagerly looking forward to the imperial banquet for over a week.
“I wanted to ask her about how she invented the hairdryer. It would’ve been a good excuse to get closer to her, too.”
But thanks to Baroness Einsha, her plans for a favorable first impression had been thoroughly ruined.
“If it’s come to this, I’ll just say everything I need to say.”
Yvette sharply turned her gaze to Rianel, another source of her recent irritation.
Sensing her pointed stare, Rianel raised an eyebrow, silently inviting her to speak.
“I’ve heard rumors that my mother has been frequenting the Grand Duke of Rahinsel’s estate lately. It has nothing to do with my wishes, so perhaps you could advise her accordingly,” Yvette said, leaving the sentence hanging.
But she wasn’t able to finish.
A woman stormed toward them with fiery determination, clutching a small bucket filled to the brim with water.
“What’s this now?”
Yvette barely had time to process the scene before the woman, her face flushed with anger, hurled the water at Penelope.
“You need to take responsibility! Because of you, my sister’s face is ruined!”
“...!”
Yvette froze, letting out a silent scream.
In a swift motion, Rianel pulled Penelope toward him, causing the water to drench Yvette instead.
The meticulously styled red hair that had taken hours to prepare now dripped with water, the droplets soaking into her gown.
Penelope stared at the sight, her mouth agape.
“What on earth...!”
“Someone get the guards!”
The noblewomen raised their voices in alarm, some looking as if they might faint on the spot.