"……."
Sonya felt Rose's gaze flick briefly toward her and Helena. If she said anything more here, she would fall right out of the madam's good graces.
"…No. Let's just get to work."
In the end, Sonya had no choice but to reply in a defeated voice.
But she hadn't fully backed down. In the world of servants, hierarchy was a fairly important matter.
"Hey, you."
So as soon as she finished attending to Rose, Sonya called Helena aside. She needed to assert dominance early on—the work ahead would be much easier that way.
"I need to talk to you."
"Ah."
As if she had expected as much, Helena let out a sneer. She crossed her arms and tilted her head dismissively at Sonya.
"What is it?"
That insolent display set Sonya's eyes ablaze.
"Are you crazy? You were rolling around in the laundry room, and now you think—"
Kung!
A fist slammed past Sonya's cheek and buried itself deep into the wall.
"Hik……!"
Sonya froze on the spot. She had thought Helena was a gentle cat—to her surprise, she was a wildcat.
The wildcat bared her teeth and growled.
"Watch your mouth if you want to live."
Helena was merely a fragile-looking woman who appeared to be around Sonya's age, and she was not holding anything sharp.
Even so, her gaze felt like a blade slicing through Sonya.
"Don't even think about pulling seniority."
"……."
"Answer me."
"Ah, alright……."
Beon-ttuk.
When Helena's eyes flashed fiercely, Sonya hurriedly added:
"…ma'am."
"Hmph."
Helena withdrew her fist and turned away. As she took her first step, a biting remark dropped from her lips.
"Some nobody acting all high and mighty."
Sonya stood rooted to the spot for a moment, watching Helena walk away.
Frozen with fear in that instant, she could do nothing—
"…I need to go to the tea party."
Only after Helena disappeared from view did Sonya mutter weakly.
She had arranged to receive a reward in exchange for sending word to the Vikander family. She had assumed she would meet 'that person' at the tea party and receive it there.
But now it had all slipped through her fingers.
"No……."
Sonya slumped to the ground where she stood.
**
The reception room of the Holland mansion.
On one wall, a stone decorative fireplace blazed brightly, and the carpet that covered the floor seamlessly held a gentle warmth.
Countess Holland, seated at the large central table, welcomed her guests.
"Viscountess Edvard, welcome. Was the journey here too cold?"
"Thanks to your concern."
The guests began coming in and filling the round tea tables placed throughout the room.
Clusters of guests whispered amongst themselves.
"Have you heard? They say Rose Vi—no, Mrs. Schmaichel is coming to today's tea party?"
The theme of this tea party was winter charity work, but people's true attention was fixated on the tea party's guest of honor.
"Could the Schmaichel family's eighth wife really be 'that person'?"
"Indeed. But as everyone knows……."
"Oh, everyone knows she's a bit… unique."
Conspiratorial eye-smiles spread among the fluttering decorative feather fans.
"Now that it's come up, her dress choices were truly brave."
"Oh, those cheap jewels and that design. I wouldn't be caught dead in it even if they gave it to me for free."
"I know full well the state of the Vikander family, yet how can she be so thoughtless? I truly feel sorry for her younger sister."
"Daisy Vikander, was it? Such a pure and lovely young lady."
At such an interesting topic, even another lady quietly joined in.
"Come to think of it, both sisters will be here today."
"Oh, that's right. I heard Lady Daisy is also coming."
"I wonder if Lady Daisy will be all right. Every time her older sister… ahem."
One lady shook her head gently.
"Tolerating even a half-sister with grace is a noble's virtue, yet Mrs. Schmaichel takes it too far."
"Do you remember the incident where she spilled tea on Lady Daisy's dress? Good heavens, I can only imagine how much that young lady suffered."
"As they say, a leaky purse leaks outside too. With her behaving like that beyond the family walls, you can imagine the household's state without even looking."
Gossiping about others is always a pleasure. What's more, the subject was someone notorious for her dreadful reputation in society.
The ladies felt no guilt whatsoever about tearing Rose down. It was, after all, the other party's fault for being so wanting.
"By the way, Mrs. Schmaichel didn't graduate from the academy, did she?"
"Oh, that's right. When I was graduating, she was a first-year, I believe. She was in a rather unusual department."
A smirk crossed the responding lady's lips.
"Magical Studies, if I recall… something along those lines."
"Good heavens, a woman in the Magical Studies Department? A dignified noble lady ought to learn poetry, painting, and etiquette."
"Exactly. A virtuous wife ought to support her husband and tend to the household. What's the point of studying Magical Studies?"
"And she even took a leave of absence, you know. She must have felt her own limitations."
The ladies, who had been whispering, suddenly fell silent. Their attention fixed on a young lady who had just entered the reception room.
Cordelia Marcus.
Daughter of Count Marcus, and once a young lady who had been called by the name Mrs. Schmaichel.
"Lady Cordelia, welcome."
"They say a new Mrs. Schmaichel is coming today… Will you be all right?"
To the ladies' question, Cordelia smiled faintly.
"Why wouldn't I be all right?"
"Oh my, so composed."
"Viscountess Edvard is here as well."
How those women who had been called Mrs. Schmaichel were treated at the castle was already an open secret in social circles.
A full seven. Of those, two had died and five had survived.
Even the five survivors had grown so sick of the family's poor treatment that they either left on their own, or fled rather than face the relentless assassination attempts against their lives.
Among them, the married Viscountess Edvard and the still-unmarried Lady Cordelia had come to attend today. They had come unfazed upon hearing that Rose Schmaichel would be attending the tea party.
"I've experienced it myself, so I know… Schmaichel is too heavy a name."
Lady Cordelia shook her head.
"It's as cold and unforgiving as the Kalmar mountains. I can't imagine how Lady Rose endured there."
"Given how unique she is, I doubt she fared well."
Viscountess Edvard replied in a sharp voice.
"It's obvious, isn't it? His Excellency Dane is… *sigh*."
The corners of Viscountess Edvard's eyes trembled faintly.
"Never mind. When I think of the treatment I received there… His Excellency Dane's heart must truly be made of ice."
Lingering attachment laced the Viscountess Edvard's murmured words.
Having reached marriageable age, she had had no choice but to marry into another noble family, but she had not yet fully erased the feelings that had once set her maiden heart ablaze.
"I couldn't agree more."
Lady Cordelia also nodded, her expression bitter.
Most of the former Mrs. Schmaichels had coveted the family's vast wealth and fortune. But it could not be said that there was no romantic feeling for their husband in those calculations.
Dane Schmaichel. The very existence of this man accounted for an enormous proportion of the value inherent in the Schmaichel family.
It was simply the way of things—there existed no female who did not covet an overwhelmingly outstanding male. All the more so when that male was one of the kingdom's most sought-after bachelors.
"*Sigh*……."
Lady Cordelia let out a sigh without realizing it.
She had been one of the many young ladies who had harbored feelings for Dane during her time at the academy. She had believed that if she was bound to him through marriage, she could somehow win his heart.
It had not taken long to realize that was a grand delusion.
"Living as Mrs. Schmaichel… will truly not be easy. His Excellency Dane is such a cold person."
Most of her memories from her time at Schmaichel Castle were filled with sorrow. If she had to name the one good thing…….
It was being able to see Dane, even from a distance.
But even that was now impossible. Her father, Count Marcus, had declared that he would never again have any dealings with that side.
Just then.
"Oh my."
Countess Holland, who had been welcoming guests while watching the entrance, stood up from her seat. Everyone's eyes followed the hostess's gaze.
Tto-gak.
Through the door that a servant had just opened, a noble lady was walking in.
Beneath a shawl of marten fur, a deep navy-blue dress was breathtakingly luxurious.
Not only was expensive silk used lavishly, but the delicate patterns embroidered with gold thread were both elegant and opulent.
Cascading red hair blazed like fire.
Combined with the vividly shining green eyes beneath, she looked like a single camellia tree vividly in bloom even in the dead of winter.
"Who… is that?"
"I've never seen her before."
At first, no one recognized who this noble lady was. What resolved their curiosity was—
"Duchess Schmaichel!"
Countess Holland's delighted voice.
"Welcome. Thank you for gracing us with your presence."
"Thank you for your warm hospitality."
Duchess Schmaichel—that is, Rose Schmaichel—smiled softly. And then she walked into the room.
Tto-gak, tto-gak.
Only Rose's footsteps cut through the hall, which had grown unbelievably silent. Everyone had lost their words, mouths hanging agape.
'That's Rose Vikander?'
'It can't be!'
Every stunned gaze tracked Rose's movements.
Her lightly raised chin and squared shoulders radiated both elegance and confidence.
The disheveled and unsightly Rose that people had expected was nowhere to be found. Standing here now was Rose Schmaichel, the grand noble of the north and authority incarnate.
"Good heavens……."
"What am I looking at?"
The noble ladies who knew Rose from her academy days all doubted their own eyes.
Not only her attire and makeup, but even her etiquette was beyond reproach.
Thanks to the grueling training Rose had undergone over the past few days while weathering Lucy's relentless nagging, her etiquette had reached the pinnacle of refinement.
"……!"
Cordelia's face went pale.