Rea cultivated the carriage and mindset of a woman, showing rapid growth.
Rising at dawn on her own and tending to Yuri, she headed to the kitchen to prepare meals for the baronial couple and served the dishes to coincide with the end of their waking and washing.
“It smells wonderful.”
“Thank you.”
Though she could not manage the fine cuisine enjoyed by nobles, even commoner dishes—provided they were labor-intensive—could be made to look and taste sufficiently presentable if she had the ingredients.
The baron and baroness themselves had scarce opportunity to partake of overly luxurious fare and were, in fact, quite satisfied with her current level.
In truth, even during her days as Earei, Rea had taken charge of meals herself and had possessed considerable basic skill.
Her makeup and dress were likewise impeccable.
However, the baron and baroness always forced Rea to wear only black clothes, in the name of mourning.
“This is mourning for our son.”
“At the same time, it also signifies the death of a Master.”
Hearing the words of the baroness and the baron, Rea accepted it merely as a matter of course.
Since she was always in black, she could not use vibrant colors in her makeup.
She had no choice but to make her bare face appear a little cleaner.
She adjusted her lips only to the extent of adding a slight sheen so they would not look pained.
Even that was enough.
Rea was more beautiful than a doll and possessed a precarious, frail air, making her fatal.
Fatal did not mean something good by any means.
Depending on the person, it could evoke an urge to break her, and the more Rea killed her own stubbornness and heart, the stronger that atmosphere became.
Simply put, there was something about her that made people want to torment her.
“Very good, yes. Unless given permission, do not look a man in the face; cast your gaze downward. If you truly must check your opponent’s position or are curious, look up ever so slightly and then down again.”
Her ladylike movements and refinement were quickly acquired.
In particular, her table manners were perfect.
Since the image of a glutton is unbecoming, a lady’s propriety lies in leaving a certain amount of food, but Rea hardly put any to her lips.
Thanks to this, she had ample leisure to practice her etiquette during mealtimes.
However, the baron and baroness, noticing that the reason she barely ate was due to the stress and depression filling her entire body despite her smiling lips, even urged her to eat at least a few small fruits.
“So that is why I spoke a word to the Duke back then. I told him we should circle around this bend and launch a surprise attack on the enemy. At first he was reluctant, but seeing there was no other way, he gave it a try. And would you look at that—it worked out beautifully!”
“That is truly remarkable.”
Her attitude toward men was likewise obedient and beyond reproach.
Though not ostentatious, there was sincerity in the way she listened and responded, so even the baron occasionally found himself in high spirits.
In truth, Rea enjoyed listening to other people’s stories.
Because she wanted to forget her melancholy through the words of others.
The more perfect Rea became, the more anxious the baron and baroness grew.
“She is perfect, yet it feels as though I am looking at a well-crafted ceramic doll.”
“It is because her heart is dying. She longs for the Queen’s love, yet in her current state she can neither step forward nor remain still as she is; she merely leans on vague hope and withers away.”
“At this rate, even if we present her at the social season, she will become a flower that blooms alone. It will be a grave matter indeed when she debuts already under so many constraints.”
“Hmm….”
At the baroness’s words, the baron let out a murmur.
The baron and baroness wished for Rea to become a lady loved for her liveliness, if not for a cheerful disposition.
But in her current state, they felt a strong sense of crisis that she would only be tormented and isolated by those around her, intoxicated by her precariousness.
This was a crisis that a great disruption would occur in their plans.
“The time has come.”
Baron Bashuport made his decision.
“Send word to His Highness the Prince.”
“….”
The inevitable had come.
The social season was truly not far off now.
They had to make Rea cling to life for the short period of less than a month remaining until then.
They had run her ragged without rest and even given her a pet to help with her depression, yet her torn soul was crumbling in real time.
“If she cannot find hope of her own accord, we have no choice but to use the drastic measure of hatred.”
Without delay, the baroness sent a pigeon to Prince Yurien.
--
Rea was leisurely doing needlework.
At first she had been quite clumsy, but as she held needle and thread whenever she rested outside of lessons, she demonstrated skill greater than that of most noble young ladies.
In truth, Rea was skilled at many things besides needlework.
Not because she was born talented, but because she had been starved for praise and recognition, practicing and studying whatever came her way.
“Is that monkshood?”
A deep, beautiful voice made her stop stitching.
Rea hurriedly rose from her seat and bowed.
“I greet Your Highness the Prince.”
Yurien marveled at the elegant movement Rea displayed.
But he could not shake the feeling that something was lacking.
“How amusing. Here you are, embroidering the very symbol of the Bashuport family that regards you as an enemy.”
“I merely strive to repay my teachers’ kindness.”
Human hearts are truly complex things.
Though there was mutual hatred, when she received their instruction and lived up to their expectations, Baron and Baroness Bashuport felt a hidden joy, and when she heard their praise, Rea gained the strength to live, repeating it to herself all day long.
Brainwashing and dependence were not one-directional; they were influencing each other.
“Do you know why those teachers instruct you?”
“It is to inflict pain upon me.”
She had long since grown accustomed and intimate with that pain.
But the Prince shook his head.
“That is part of it. But there is another reason.”
Rea deliberated.
Should she remain silent and wait for Yurien to continue? Or should she ask back and naturally guide him to the next words?
The latter was a technique of deliberately making oneself look foolish to elevate the other, yet for some reason she did not wish to do so.
Rea chose silence.
“When you have become a lady, you will be the first vanguard to push aside my sister.”
“…What?”
Rea dared to raise her head and meet Yurien’s eyes.
At the entertaining spectacle, the Prince smiled with his eyes and taunted her.
“In about three weeks, the social season will begin. Have you heard of it? The academy unique to our Kingdom of Levantort, where the children of nobles and prominent families gather to learn, socialize, and even dispatch aid to one another as needed.”
“I have heard of it.”
The reason it was called the social season rather than simply an academy was because faction-building, assisting with the difficulties of each house, and forging networks of connections held greater weight inside than the ideal of being a cradle of learning.
“You will debut at the social season as my person, and during your time as a student, you will incur debts with as many prominent families and nobles as possible.”
Rea remained silent.
“If you incur debts in my name, will they not become the support base that drives out my sister—who is even more incompetent than the tyrant Orban?”
“….”
“I know that you hide the skill and spirit of a Master.”
Rea’s needlework had stopped long ago.
How about stabbing him with this needle right now and putting an end to his foul scheme?
But the baron and baroness of Bashuport were undoubtedly lying in ambush somewhere to protect the Prince.
She would easily be subdued.
Rea slipped the needle between her fingers and snapped it.
“Show the visage of a Master to those who value ability. To those who covet beauty, use your feminine wiles to torment them until they cannot lay a single finger on you. Keep the rejected ones close by your side yourself, displaying divine loyalty, and win the hungry ones over with food you have cooked with your own hands. When they have all become your friends and your popularity soars, all of it will become the rebel army of Yurien Rionera.”
“Was this your plan all along, keeping me alive?”
As Rea spoke through chattering teeth, clenching her jaw, Yurien donned a deep smile.
“I will go to Her Majesty right now and reveal all of this!”
“Go ahead. Who would believe the fact that you have become a woman, and how would you prove it? Moreover, if my sister loses you as her sword and me as well, how could she possibly control the nobles, including Derebek and Hairan?”
“At least I can stop a rebellion from breaking out immediately!”
“Why, General! Is this the first time I have seen you speak with such short sight?”
Boldly, Yurien thrust his face toward Rea and shouted.
“Even if it is not me, someone else will take the place of the rebellion’s leader. Whether it be Hairan, Derebek, or even Bashuport, no one knows. The Queen has lost the hearts of the people. Since becoming king, she has abandoned state affairs and indulged in debauchery, and the hero of the people has been hidden away so thoroughly that even the religious orders are calling for the appearance of Earei Birensya!”
“That is because of you! Because you turned me into a woman! Because you people could not kill me as you wished and told me to live for Seorin! Because you said if I endured, I could find love again!”
“We said love, but we never said it was my sister’s love. To fall for such a shallow wordplay—is that not how a wife is stolen by another husband? Yet my sister lost you to me. No, Seorin Rionera gained and lost Earei Birensya, while I gained Rea Rie Birensya; now only becoming king remains.”
“Who would want to debut at the social season at your whim!”
“If you do not, you will die.”
“I have told you countless times to kill me already!”
“My sister, having completely lost you, will either be torn apart by her retainers or torn apart by barbarians or the League—one of the two.”
“You vile bastard! I never dreamed you were such a vile creature!”
“I as well….”
Yurien’s hand groped downward along Rea’s waist.
“I never expected that your beauty as a woman would be this exquisite. When you were a man, you merely had the ordinary face of a docile country bumpkin.”
“Let go of me!”
Yurien burst into laughter.
Because Rea’s hand had instinctively moved to slap him.
It was the typical gesture of a lady.
“How pitiful. Even so, the reason you cannot kill yourself is still because you love my sister.”
“Your Highness the Prince… please reconsider… I beg you….”
Despite Rea’s pleas, Yurien’s face hardened coldly.
“It is too late.”
Unlike the man who had been toying with her, Yurien left those words behind and departed from Rea.
“The people weep. Birensya.”
Rea tore the embroidery to shreds where she stood.