The scene shifted.
Inside the venue of the Summer Ball, I stood by the long dessert table at the edge of the ballroom, completely bored out of my mind.
Although I had nominally entered with the male lead, Leonhart, as the duke's daughter drawing the gaze of the entire hall, the moment his speech ended, His Highness the Crown Prince was surrounded by several senior instructors and key upperclassmen from the student council, embarking on his flawless social performance.
Excellent. Just what I wanted.
Without the Crown Prince watching my every move, I could finally drop my perfect facade a little.
Melodious music echoed through the hall as young boys and girls chatted in the center of the dance floor. Since the formal dancing hadn't officially started yet and everyone was busy chatting to confirm their choice of partners, this was a highly versatile window of time.
For instance, I could elegantly use a small silver fork to slip an exquisitely crafted strawberry mousse into my mouth.
Mmm!
The texture was incredibly smooth. The tart sweetness of the strawberry blended flawlessly with the rich cream, melting on my tongue in a way so delicious it made me want to do happy cartwheels in my mind.
Stealthily shifting my steps, I picked out a caramel nut tart.
In an otherworldly setting devoid of modern entertainment, it seemed the pastry chefs had been pushed to reach an exceptionally high level of craftsmanship.
Having skipped dinner tonight, I gave them a solid ten out of ten.
At the end of the day, I hadn't come here tonight to enjoy the ball anyway. I was here with a serious mission, so eating these treats was one of my few moments of pure bliss.
“Please, Milady.”
Right then, a young lady stepped beside me at the perfect moment, handing over a glass of translucent red wine.
I forgot to mention, this was my sidekick number two, Helena.
Because the plot required me to commit some misdeeds tonight, I naturally needed a few helpers. Even if I wanted to skip it, the World's Will would probably step in and force my hand anyway, so I had the self-awareness to prepare step by step.
For example, step one was to hold a wine glass and pretend to splash it onto Liliana... but this would be blocked by the Secretary, Meretskov, so I wasn't particularly nervous.
Step two was hiding her gown.
As everyone knows, Western fantasy balls often drag on for hours. Respectable high nobles would usually prepare two or even more outfits for themselves, dividing them into the first half and the second half.
Once the second half rolled around, in order to prevent their clothes from smelling of sweat from dancing in the first half—or simply because they felt the current outfit wasn't gorgeous enough—everyone habitually went to the changing room to slip into an even more splendid gown for the second half.
This was one of the unwritten rules of high society, and something Liliana had to adhere to as well.
As the villainous daughter, before entering, I had naturally “maliciously” ordered my sidekick, Misha, to head to the preparation room and ruin the dress Liliana was supposed to wear for the second half—slashing the laces, hiding her shoes, and generally doing whatever was necessary to drive her into despair.
However, I had also dropped hints to Waldenburg about this beforehand (since I couldn't spell it out directly). Surely he would be able to intercept it in a reasonable manner.
If he failed, I wouldn't let him off easily.
As for the third villainous tactic, it was spreading threatening rumors so that no boy would dare to dance with Liliana. In fact, the early signs of this were already showing inside the venue, as Liliana had been sticking close to her two friends the whole time.
When boys came over to chat, they completely ignored Liliana. Aside from avoiding a commoner, this was also because of the threatening rumors I had ordered my lackeys to spread over the past few days.
After all, my appearance and status made me a bona fide villainess.
So now—
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
As the villainous daughter ordained by this world, my main quest was to serve as a stepping stone on heroine Liliana's path to happiness. And now, it was time for me to take the stage in person and advance the next classic villainess plot point.
The “accidental” wine splash.
Ahhhh, it's here! It's here! I can feel the momentum building!
A strange warmth surged in my right arm, and my gaze locked precisely onto Liliana.
Oh well—I elegantly extended my white-gloved hand and took the glass of fine red wine from her hand.
My eyes flickered.
Not far away, Liliana stood quietly beside a pillar near the dance floor.
Tonight, she wore the water-blue gown that the student council's Secretary, Meretskov, had prepared for her. Pure as an untainted lily, she looked somewhat uneasy as she gazed at the lively dance floor.
Now was the time.
I took a deep breath, reinforcing my mental imprint. With elegant and proper steps, under the watchful eyes and entourage of some nearby noble young ladies who closely observed my every move due to my status, I unhurriedly walked toward Liliana.
My face wore my trademark smile, though inside I felt slightly conflicted as I mentally adjusted my state of mind.
Closer, closer.
Just two paces away from her, calculating the perfect angle, I pretended my high-heeled leather shoes slipped slightly on the smooth marble floor. Letting my body falter in an unnatural stumble, my wrist “violently” shook.
The red wine in the goblet drew a striking arc under the lights, heading with pinpoint accuracy straight for Liliana's water-blue skirt!
!
Somebody! Quick!
I shouted in my heart.
According to the plot, the Secretary, Meretskov, would flash forward from the side at the perfect moment, blocking the wine with a handkerchief or his body, thus naturally initiating the classic hero-saves-the-beauty scenario to max out the heroine's affection level.
Thank goodness—he had made his move!
Pat.
Phew. I breathed a sigh of relief.
And then, I felt a wave of coldness. Liquid was trickling down my own gown.
Huh?
Looking up due to the height difference, I saw a slender, powerful hand clad in a jet-black student council uniform suddenly cut in from the side.
It didn't try to block the wine.
Instead, with absolute precision and stability, it grabbed my wrist holding the goblet mid-air.
It was as if he had known what I was about to do all along.
The force wasn't immense, yet it firmly anchored my wrist in mid-air. The wine that was supposed to splash out sloshed violently against the glass, only to reverse direction along the rim and dump itself entirely onto my own deep blue sleeve and glove.
The sticky, warm purple liquid instantly spread across the back of my hand.
So that was where the cold sensation had come from.
I was stunned.
My pupils dilated slightly, and my emerald-green eyes expressed the perfect amount of extreme “shock” that a duke's daughter should show when her plans were thwarted.
But in reality,
I genuinely was shocked.
What the heck was going on? Why did the plot change again? Wasn't the Secretary supposed to block the wine or shield the heroine? Why did he grab my hand directly and splash the wine back onto me instead?!
Stiffly, I traced the hand upward again.
Standing before me was none other than the student council Secretary, Meretskov.
He wore a meticulous black uniform tonight, the silver badge of the student council pinned to his chest. Beneath his neatly combed black hair, his eyes behind the spectacles looked down at me with absolute coldness.
He didn't even turn his head to spare a glance at Liliana behind him. Instead, with a freezing glare akin to a judge's, he stared down at me, the “attempted perpetrator” of this villainous act.
Speaking of which, in his route, he was the male lead who first discovered that Loris had been targeting Liliana... which was also why he was known as the gentle character.
Because he was the first to step forward, even before the other male leads.
“...”
The room fell into a temporary silence.
Quite a few people noticed the commotion and began whispering.
And Liliana looked even more utterly astonished.
“What happened?” “Lady Aldheim got splashed?” “No, that boy grabbed her hand...” “Isn't that the student council Secretary?” “Goodness...”
“...” Observing the situation, I quickly collected my breath to hide my panic, adopting my usual detached and arrogant tone of noble socializing.
The script wasn't like this, but improvising on the fly was also a basic skill for a villainess.
Right at that moment, however,
a cold, emotionless notification suddenly blared in my head.
【Ding—】
【Plot deviation detected. The “hero saves the beauty” event between protagonist Liliana and one of the male leads failed to trigger properly. An abnormal change in Meretskov's affection level has occurred.】
【System intervention: Forcing control over the host's speech and actions. Executing plot correction: “Villainess Framing.”】
【Countdown: 3, 2—】
Again?!
Before I could even finish cursing in my head, my mouth no longer belonged to me.
My body was steered like a marionette by an invisible hand. My back straightened, my chin lifted slightly, and the corners of my mouth curled into an expression that was aggrieved and enduring, yet tinged with a hint of sarcasm.
It was the classic look of a victim striking back, though it shouldn't have been used here.
“What is the meaning of this?”
My voice leaked from my throat, trembling with just the right amount of emotion.
Meretskov lowered his eyes and let go of my wrist.
He took a half-step back, his black uniform looking exceptionally solemn under the lights. The gaze behind his lenses finally shifted away from me, sweeping past Liliana before returning.
“My apologies,” he said, his voice as flat as if he were reading an official document. “My hand slipped and I bumped into Lady Aldheim. It was highly impolite of me to stain your gown with wine.”
He spoke quickly, as if hoping to prevent anyone from chiming in.
But under the system's control, I obviously wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily.
“A slip of the hand? Secretary Meretskov, your hand slipped with remarkable precision—unerringly grabbing my wrist, and perfectly ensuring that this wine splashed over me without a single drop to spare.”
Good grief, the scent of a fake-innocent girl was way too strong. Who wrote this script? I was dying of embarrassment inside.
The whispering around us grew even louder.
“Come to think of it... I did see student Meretskov reach out to grab...”
“Why would he grab Lady Aldheim's hand?”
“Could he have done it on purpose?”
Meretskov's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
He parted his lips, seemingly wanting to explain something, but in the end, he merely lowered his eyes and bowed slightly.
“It was my indiscretion. If Lady Aldheim wishes, I will compensate you for the cleaning costs of your gown—”
“I am deeply sorry...” He simply bowed.
His bow hid his expression from me, but it was absolutely not a sincere apology. He knew that if he hadn't intervened, this glass of wine would have poured onto Liliana to bully a commoner.
Fortunately, it seemed that once the apology was made, the plot would return to its right track.
The feeling of rigidity faded away.
My mouth was no longer speaking on its own.
Actually, I hadn't wanted to get angry at all.
“Hmph.” In the end, I merely gave a cold snort, wrapping up the matter before Leonhart could come play the peacemaker, and returned to the group of young ladies surrounding me.
So what if I got wet? It was just a matter of changing clothes.
Saying goodbye to their concerned remarks, I exited the hall and walked down the chilly corridor. Peeling off my wine-stained white gloves and tossing them into a trash bin, I let out a long sigh of relief in my mind.
Although there was a strange hiccup in the process, the issue had still been resolved peacefully, right?
I had brilliantly played the villain, Liliana was spared the embarrassment of having her dress ruined, and Secretary Meretskov's swift, protective action just now would surely make Liliana lean more heavily on this reliable senior in her heart.
As for the Secretary's distaste toward me and the slight boost to their affection level, scaling yet another romantic hurdle...
Yes.
This was exactly how an otome game was supposed to progress.
With satisfaction, I rubbed my sore wrist, pushing open the door to the spare changing room, preparing to face the social battlefield that lay ahead tonight.
...
After I departed,
Meretskov straightened his posture, pushed up his glasses, and turned to look at Liliana, who was still standing by the pillar.
He parted his lips, wishing to offer a gentlemanly smile and say something.
Perhaps “Are you alright?” or “Apologies for startling you,” or even a simple “Miss Liliana.”
But before he could make a sound,
Liliana spoke first.
She lifted her head. In her clear blue eyes, there was no gratitude of the sort he had anticipated, nor any relief after a close call.
Instead, there was—
disappointment.
“Secretary Meretskov.”
Her voice wasn't loud, but every word came through clearly. “Why... did you not offer a sincere apology to Lady Loris?”
Meretskov froze.
“You bumped into Lady Loris and stained her gown. You admitted to it yourself.” Liliana slightly cast her eyes down, her fingers absentmindedly clutching her skirt. “Yet when you apologized, there wasn't a trace of sincerity in your tone... It was as though you were merely going through the motions.”
“...”
She lifted her eyes, looking at him with sadness.
“You are clearly such a gentle person...”
“Why would you do this?”
Meretskov stood frozen in place.
He felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him.
Why? Why was it like this?
The night breeze drifted through the open window, stirring the stray hair on his forehead. Behind his glasses, his eyes, for once, betrayed a hint of fracture.
He parted his lips.
He wanted to say, “I was actually protecting you,” “If I hadn't stopped her, that wine would have splashed onto you,” or “That Loris isn't a good person; she's been targeting you all along.”
But these words reached the tip of his tongue, and he found himself unable to utter them.
For he recalled Waldenburg's words.
That afternoon, in a corner, Waldenburg had remarked offhandedly:
“That woman is incredibly adept at playing with people's minds.”
“If you want to save Liliana, getting past her will be exceptionally, exceptionally difficult.”
“You could challenge her to a duel.”
Secretary Meretskov could only remain silent. At the same time, if he voiced those thoughts, it would drag Loris into the spotlight.
And Loris was the eldest daughter of the Aldheim family, the fiancée of His Highness the Crown Prince, and the last person in this academy one should ever easily provoke.
Even more importantly—Liliana's gaze on him right now.
That look of grief over his moral character.
It turned all of his prepared explanations into hollow, pale excuses.
“...Miss Liliana.”
He finally found his voice, which was a notch lower than usual. “You are right. It was my indiscretion.”
Lowering his eyes, he bowed deeply.
“I will apologize to Lady Loris in person later and ask if there is any way I can make amends. My apologies for letting you witness such an ungraceful display.”
Liliana watched his bending figure. Her lips twitched as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she merely offered a soft, “Mhm.”
“Apologies. Perhaps my words were a bit too harsh as well.”
Then she curtsied in apology, turning and walking back to Fiona and Sarah's side. It had been this way since the start of school—Liliana's personality was one that remembered both kindnesses and grudges. Right now, she only felt that the prejudice of the people around her toward Loris was simply too deep; even the usually gentle Secretary had gone out of his way to bully her at the ball.
In fact, according to the plot, the liquid should have merely stopped, rather than pouring all over Loris's head like this.
A moment later, Meretskov stood alone beside the pillar.
The night breeze kept blowing, and the music continued to play.
The young boys and girls in the dance floor spun and laughed. No one noticed the silent collapse occurring in this corner.
He raised his hand and slowly removed his glasses.
He wiped the lenses with his shirt cuff.
Then, he slipped them back on.
The expression on his face reverted to that of the gentle, flawless student council Secretary, save for his fingers gripping the frames in sheer frustration.
Rate on N.U.
