Alright, everyone, eyes on me. I have an announcement to make.
Today is my birthday, ooohhh!
...Well, that was lame.
I yawned slightly, wearing a deep red evening gown with layered skirts that resembled an upside-down rose.
Another month had passed, bringing me one month closer to the official academy timeline, but in this world, things were measured by holding banquets. Anyway, open your eyes.
The collar of the gorgeous gown was adorned with a ring of tiny moonstones, which shimmered with a soft silver-white light under the magic lamps.
The blonde girl in the mirror stared back at me expressionlessly, and I stared back at her with the same lack of expression.
Then, the corners of my mouth twitched as I forced a textbook “tyrant villainess” smile—lips curled slightly upward, eyes half-squinted, carrying a trace of lofty, punchable arrogance.
The girl in the mirror smiled the exact same way.
“...” Oh, that felt so good.
If this were my past life, I would probably be more than happy to have a character like this step all over my head with her little feet in white thigh-highs as a form of wicked punishment.
Unfortunately, now it was me.
I pulled back my smile, returning to that expressionless face.
Utterly dull.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
A maid's voice came from outside. It was cool and steady, like the surface of a frozen lake in winter, though I knew it was warm underneath.
“Miss, the guests have arrived. His Highness is here as well.”
“...Understood.”
I took one last look at myself in the mirror, then turned around.
Today was my birthday. As a member of a powerful family, naturally many people came to attend. I didn't understand all the intricate relationships, only that many people would be celebrating.
The banquet hall was massive.
Although the Aldheim family wasn't as extravagant as the royal family, they were still one of the top noble houses in the kingdom, so they didn't lack any of the expected pomp.
Three massive crystal chandeliers hung from the domed ceiling, their hundreds of candles refracting into countless tiny rainbows through the crystal. Hanging on the walls were portraits of past Dukes of Aldheim, their golden frames gleaming under the lights.
Snow-white tablecloths covered the long tables, where silver tableware was neatly arranged, and a decorative tower made of white roses and silver ribbons sat in the center.
Wow, there were people everywhere.
It had the same energy as the train station during National Day back when I was in college.
Noble men and women in gorgeous attire gathered in groups of twos and threes, holding wine glasses and wearing polite social smiles. Young noble ladies formed small circles, whispering behind their fans, while older noblewomen sat on cushioned chairs against the wall, sharply sizing up every young girl who walked in.
Don't mind the overly familiar description; after all, my descriptive skills aren't exactly top-tier.
As for me, I stood just to the right of the center of the banquet hall, holding a glass of juice, a textbook smile plastered on my face.
Note! The villainess version.
“Miss Aldheim, happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
“Miss Aldheim, that dress suits you beautifully.”
“Thank you.”
“Miss Aldheim, you look lovely today.”
“Thank you.”
Smile, nod, thank.
Smile, nod, thank.
I was like a programmed machine, having practiced this routine until it was second nature.
Anyway, all I needed to do was smile, nod, and say “Thank you,” occasionally throwing in a “You as well” or “You flatter me,” to handle ninety percent of social situations.
As for the remaining ten percent—
“Miss Loris.”
A clear voice came from behind me.
I turned around.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a white military dress uniform.
Golden epaulets gleamed under the lights.
His features were still of that high-definition caliber that made you want to ask if his parents were gods—the arch of his eyebrows, the height of his nose, the shape of his lips, every single detail was flawless.
He was a bit taller than he had been half a year ago, his shoulders broader. His boyishness had faded slightly, replaced by the refined handsome look unique to a young man.
Leonhart von Edelstein.
Fourteen years old, the Crown Prince, and Loris's fiancé.
Thump.
My heart skipped a beat.
Here we go again. Oh, the heavy hand of destiny.
Without changing my expression, I rolled my eyes internally. I wondered if the will of the world had installed some kind of device in this body's heart, because the moment Leonhart entered my line of sight, it automatically began to race.
“Your Highness,” I curtsied, feeling a headache coming on. “Thank you for gracing me with your presence today.”
“How could I not come on your birthday?”
He smiled slightly, that smile still the textbook “perfect prince” style—gentle and proper.
Just right.
Yes, a perfectly measured social courtesy, polite and decent, yet completely devoid of warmth.
“...You are very thoughtful, Your Highness.”
“Miss Loris looks very beautiful today,” he said. “The color of this dress suits you well.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Your Highness.”
“I heard you've been practicing horsemanship lately?”
“Yes, my younger brother is participating in the Royal Capital Horsemanship Competition next year, so I occasionally accompany him to practice.”
“That is wonderful. I have seen Lord Eliot's horsemanship once; he is very talented.”
“Your Highness flatters him. He still has a long way to go.”
Question, answer.
Question, answer.
It was like playing ping-pong.
I kind of wanted to smash a ball right into his face.
Could he stop chatting with me? The heavy hand of destiny was about to give me a heart attack; just standing near him gave me a physical buff.
In short, the topic (the ball) bounced back and forth between the two of us, its trajectory orderly, its landing spot precise, without any surprises.
I looked helplessly into his ice-blue eyes. Those eyes were still gentle, still polite, and still completely empty of real emotion.
“...Your Highness.”
“Yes?”
“The cake will be cut shortly. Will Your Highness stay to have some?”
“Of course, I look forward to it.”
He said with a smile. To be like this at fourteen, all I could say was that this bizarre otherworld was truly something else. What kind of education produced this kind of person? Then again, even in ancient times on Earth, marrying at twelve was normal.
I lowered my gaze.
My peripheral vision suddenly caught a familiar silver head.
Eliot stood at the other end of the banquet hall, leaning against a marble pillar, holding a glass of juice and chatting with several noble boys of his age.
His posture was relaxed, his shoulders weren't hunched, and his spine was perfectly straight. When he spoke, he would tilt his head slightly, a faint smile on his lips.
He was a completely different person from the trembling boy he was in front of me.
Yo, little bro, not bad. You look pretty respectable.
I thought to myself. A nine-year-old boy, his height seemed to shoot up a bit every month; he looked taller again.
The dark gray formal suit fit him perfectly now. His collar was buttoned up properly, and his cuffs were neatly fastened—ever since his kind onee-chan helped him button his coat that one time, he would check himself several times every single time.
His short silver hair gleamed softly under the lights, and his emerald-green eyes crinkled slightly as he listened to a brown-haired boy next to him speak.
If only he were a little sister.
I withdrew my gaze.
“Miss Loris and His Highness have such a wonderful relationship.”
A voice drifted over from the side. I turned around to find a girl in a pastel yellow dress standing there.
She held a feather fan, half-covering her face, revealing only a pair of eyes curved into crescents. Behind her stood two other girls, one in light purple and the other in mint green. The three of them standing together looked like a box of macarons.
Macarons, a very sweet dessert.
By the way, I remembered her.
Vera Klein, the third daughter of a count's family. Fourteen months ago, at the Royal Capital's autumn tea party, she had “accidentally” spilled black tea onto Loris's dress, then apologized with a panicked face, claiming she was just clumsy.
How did the original owner respond back then? Oh, the original Loris had pushed her straight to the ground and called her a “blind bitch.”
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Quite the sadist.
Then Vera ran out crying, and everyone thought Loris had gone too far. She only accidentally spilled tea, was it really necessary to get physical?
I thought it was.
Because Vera hadn't been clumsy; she had done it on purpose. After I transmigrated, I inherited all of the original owner's memories, and reviewing that scene from the perspective of a high schooler who played galgames made it clear.
Before Vera spilled the tea, her eyes had darted around to check how many people were watching.
Then, her wrist made a very subtle upward flick. That was absolutely not a slip of the hand; she was aiming to spill.
This girl was a green tea bitch.
An eleven-year-old green tea bitch.
I had to say, under this bizarre education, everyone matured incredibly fast. Even triple-cropping rice didn't ripen this quickly.
“...Miss Klein,” I smiled. “Long time no see.”
“Long time no see, Miss Loris.”
She lowered her feather fan slightly, revealing a full smile. “Your birthday banquet today is truly grand. As expected of the Aldheim family.”
“You flatter me.”
“Miss Loris and His Highness look so perfect together.” She tilted her head, her tone innocent. “When was the engagement decided again? Two years ago? My, Miss Loris was only... I'm so envious that you've already found your future home.”
Translation: You only landed this marriage because of your family background, sold off as a political tool. What is there to be proud of?
I smiled. “Indeed, I feel very fortunate as well. However, His Highness has been saying lately that he admires women with actual talent and learning, rather than those who only stand by and say pretty words. That is why I have been working hard on my horsemanship and swordsmanship recently. You must work hard too, Miss Klein.”
Translation: Talk more shit and we're taking this outside.
Vera's smile froze for a fraction of a second.
How satisfying. For the first time, I found the original owner's villainess persona incredibly handy to use.
But I must emphasize once again: I am a good person, a kind person.
Vera's hesitation lasted only a moment before she raised her feather fan again, covering half her face as she spoke with stubborn sarcasm:
“Miss Loris is certainly diligent. However, wouldn't it be better to leave things like horsemanship and swordsmanship to the knights? After all, if you were to fall and injure your face, that would be terrible.”
Translation: If you end up disfigured, let's see if your fiancé still wants you!
“Thank you for your concern,” my smile remained unchanged. “However, appearance is not important to me. I prefer to be self-reliant. By the way, do you know my swordsmanship instructor? Shirune has been teaching me. It is said that her swordsmanship ranks among the best in the entire kingdom. Under her guidance, I will not get hurt.”
At that, I let out a cold snort.
Then, Vera's eyes darted behind me.
There stood Shirune with her silver-white high ponytail, deep red eyes, and two black horns on the sides of her forehead, staring back expressionlessly.
The sword at her waist hummed of its own accord, gleaming with a cold light.
I felt like I should smash a cup as a signal to attack, like a triad boss... wait, is that a Sun Quan allusion? Anyway, anyone could understand what this meant.
Vera raised her feather fan a bit higher.
“Th-That is wonderful then. Ah, I see my father calling for me, please excuse me.”
She quickly scurried away with her two macaron sidekicks, fleeing in a panic with tears glistening in her eyes, thoroughly frightened.
I watched them leave, the smile on my face remaining completely unchanged, feeling highly amused inside.
“Miss.”
Shirune's voice came from behind me, very soft.
“Yes?”
“What you said just now... was it true?”
“...” Meaning the compliments about her? Of course it was true, but did I just accidentally raise her affection level again?
I turned back, maintaining my aloof, lofty villainess attitude without a ripple of emotion, and smiled. “What do you think?”
A moment later, someone blushed.
Call me the Galgame Master, please.
Shirune didn't speak further, but I felt her tail wagging cheerfully. It gently tapped against my back, just once, before she quickly pulled it back in a fluster, realizing she had overstepped.
I pretended not to notice.
My birthday banquet was still underway. In another half an hour, I would have to go down and walk the red carpet.
Rate on N.U.
