Reiana could not understand the current atmosphere. If others had forgotten Tanashia’s misdeeds, she needed to remind them.

“You all seem unaware—the recent deaths of Lazent citizens were entirely caused by the Lady of House Brellof.”

Murmur murmur—

At those words, many people began whispering among themselves.

It was fortunate. Contrary to expectations, the rumor had not spread widely, and many seemed genuinely unaware.

Seeing Reiana’s relieved expression, Tanashia smiled calmly.

“Why do you say it was because of me?”

“Tanashia, stop trying to dodge responsibility. The assassins dispatched by the Calua Empire came because of you. Lazent citizens died because of those targeting you—you must take responsibility.”

“That’s unacceptable. Why should I be held responsible for the Calua Empire arbitrarily offering bounties and arbitrarily sending assassins?”

“You should never have sneaked into the Lazent Empire in the first place. Your very presence here causes harm to others…!”

“The person who should bear responsibility for the citizens’ deaths is someone else—the one who colluded with the Calua Empire and brought assassins into Lazent territory.”

Internally, Reiana flinched. She had been certain Tanashia could never have guessed her actions.

She had moved as secretly as possible—how had Tanashia found out?

But she could not admit it outright.

Everything was Tanashia’s fault—not Reiana’s.

“That’s absurd. If you’re going to make excuses, at least make them plausible. Who would believe a story without any evidence…!”

“Why do you think there’s no evidence?”

At those words, Reiana’s face visibly stiffened.

For a moment, she mentally retraced her steps, wondering if she had made some mistake. But no matter how hard she thought, nothing specific came to mind.

Shortly after, Reiana laughed mockingly and declared confidently,

“Who would believe such ridiculous boasting?”

Tanashia, seemingly having anticipated this reaction, showed no surprise. Instead, she leisurely handed over the newspaper tucked under her arm.

“If you don’t believe it, read it. This will be published in tomorrow’s newspaper.”

“Tomorrow’s newspaper?”

Reiana, puzzled, snatched the paper Tanashia offered and quickly scanned its contents.

The first thing that caught her eye was the headline:

Reiana’s mind went blank.

The content in the newspaper was true. But she had to deny it—getting entangled might shift blame onto her.

“Th, that’s impossible! This is slander! Who authorized such a false article without any evidence?!”

Surprisingly, an answer came from behind her, in response to Reiana’s sharp outcry.

“I was the one who reported this fact to the newspaper. If you’re curious, I wouldn’t mind telling you.”

“Who dares…!”

Reiana turned toward the voice—and was startled.

The one who answered was none other than Kishandra.

It seemed the Empress Dowager had pressured the newspaper into publishing the article.

Reiana, biting her lip in anger, confronted Kishandra accusingly.

“Your Imperial Majesty, why are you slandering House Dante?”

“Ha ha, slander? How amusing. Do you think the newspaper would publish such content without any evidence?”

“What evidence are you talking about, exactly?”

“Do you really not know? Documents showing that the Lady of House Dante personally urged approval of the Calua Empire’s warship.”

“Documents? I have no memory whatsoever of sending anything like that!”

At Reiana’s vehement denial, Kishandra laughed incredulously.

“I suppose, having only recently become a Marchioness, you wouldn’t know—Lazent Imperial Navy clerks meticulously record every detail. Even if you didn’t write it yourself, the record remains.”

“Th, this could be a plot by someone trying to frame me…”

“Shall I bring in the general you pressured back then, to make you admit it?”

“…!”

Reiana could no longer deny it.

The truth could not be hidden—not with such clear evidence existing.

‘This is my mistake. I failed to realize the systems of Arwen Empire and Lazent Empire differ.’

Reiana decided to change tactics. Unlike her previously confident demeanor, she now feigned wiping away tears, adopting the most pitiful expression possible.

“Fine. You frightened me so much I couldn’t speak honestly. Thinking back, yes—I did say a few words urging approval of the ship.”

At Reiana’s belated confession, Tanashia stared at her incredulously.

“You denied it so stubbornly just moments ago—your ability to instantly switch positions is quite impressive, in its own way.”

“Watch your tongue, Tanashia. No matter what, the citizens’ deaths are entirely your fault. Clearly, the assassins came targeting you.”

Tanashia shrugged, then replied casually,

“You’re right. The assassins came to kill me. But you’re the one who sold my location to the Calua Empire.”

“Do you have proof?”

Instead of answering, Tanashia turned the question back on Reiana.

“Do you really think I don’t? If I present evidence again, will you belatedly admit it then?”

Reiana swallowed hard, tense.

She needed to remain calm—she could pass off one mistake as an accident, but repeating it would look suspicious.

‘How significant is it, really, that I tipped off the Calua Empire? In any case, the citizens’ deaths are all Tanashia’s fault.’

Reiana had merely assisted the Calua Empire—she hadn’t personally dispatched assassins.

Yet being treated like the criminal was infuriating.

Regaining her composure, Reiana lifted her chin proudly, resolving to act confidently.

She had done nothing wrong. Even if all facts came to light, responsibility for this incident rightfully belonged to Tanashia.

“Hmph. Who cares who tipped off the Calua Empire? With such an enormous bounty offered, of course anyone might be tempted to report it. Is that wrong?”

At those words, Tanashia’s blue eyes sparkled as she grinned.

“So you’re admitting you did it?”

“Yes. I did it. What’s wrong with that?”

At Reiana’s confident declaration, the murmuring among banquet attendees grew even louder.

At first, too many overlapping voices made it hard to discern anything—but gradually, fragments of their conversations reached her ears.

“I couldn’t believe it when Her Imperial Majesty said it, but it’s actually true.”

“Right? I can’t believe the Marchioness of House Dante colluded with the Calua Empire.”

“She’s not even from Lazent Empire. Her origins are showing here.”

Hearing unexpected slander about herself, Reiana’s face flushed red.

She couldn’t understand—why was she being vilified, not Tanashia?

“Hey, have you all lost your minds? The Calua Empire’s assassins came targeting Tanashia—why are you all turning on me?”

The one who answered Reiana’s question was none other than Tanashia herself.

Tanashia spoke as if surprised Reiana still didn’t understand.

“Lady Dante, you became a Lazent noble yet seem unaware—how terrible the relationship is between the two empires.”

“So what does that have to do with me?!”

“If you discovered my identity, shouldn’t you have reported it to the Lazent Imperial Court? Do you really think it was right to immediately tip off the Calua Empire?”

“Well, with such a huge bounty offered, of course anyone would be tempted.”

“Hmm. Really? Was it truly just for the money? How can anyone believe the illustrious Lady Dante, lacking nothing financially, betrayed secrets purely for a bounty?”

“What? What do you mean?”

Reiana’s expression turned puzzled—Tanashia’s tone felt subtly off.

It sounded as if Reiana’s betrayal wasn’t motivated by the bounty at all.

Honestly, she had done it because she hated Tanashia.

That was the end of it.

But Tanashia raised her voice as if ensuring everyone heard.

“Did everyone hear that? The Marchioness of House Dante has finally confessed. She must have maintained close ties with the Calua Empire all along.”

“What nonsense are you spouting! Yes, I tipped them off because I despised you—but I never revealed anything else!”

“How many Lazent Imperial secrets have you sold to the Calua Empire so far? Is that how you revived your family’s fortunes?”

“What? What basis do you have to say such things?!”

Reiana denied it fiercely, but the gazes of those watching her had already turned icy.

Only then did she realize.

This was a trap set by Tanashia.

Reiana had merely helped the Calua Empire try to kill her.

But Tanashia was using this incident to fabricate the impression that Reiana had long been selling vast amounts of information to the Calua Empire.

Tanashia spoke.

“You want to dodge responsibility? It’s already too late. Her Imperial Majesty has decided, after consulting with the imperial clan, to investigate House Dante tomorrow.”

“This is slander! Everyone, please listen to me—I only passed information regarding Lady Brellof. I never revealed anything else!”

“Don’t worry, Lady Dante. If you’re innocent, it’ll be revealed tomorrow.”

At Tanashia’s calm words, Reiana could no longer contain herself and shouted,

“Tanashia!”

Tanashia clicked her heels, walking closer to Reiana.

Then, tilting her head, she whispered softly—so only Reiana could hear.

“Reiana, did you think only you could slander others? How does it feel to have your own tactics turned against you?”

Reiana glared at Tanashia, eyes wide.

She still couldn’t comprehend how her tip-off to the Calua Empire had led to this.

“Tanashia, do you really think you can get away with provoking me? If you thought House Dante would collapse so easily in Lazent, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”

Tanashia remained utterly composed, as if inviting Reiana to try anything she wished.

There was one fact Reiana had overlooked—the deep-seated animosity between the Calua and Lazent Empires.

Reiana may not have realized it, but to any Lazent citizen, merely knowing she had tipped off Tanashia and authorized the assassins’ ship would provoke an instinctive, uneasy feeling.

Regardless of who was right or wrong, dragging the Calua Empire into Lazent affairs was inherently distasteful.

Tanashia had exploited precisely that.

Reiana had sold Tanashia’s information to the Calua Empire—and Tanashia already had solid evidence of that.

If she could make others suspect Reiana had also sold additional secrets beyond Tanashia’s, the game was over.

After all, the higher a bird flies, the harder its fall.

House Dante stood at the pinnacle of Lazent’s ruling class. The moment suspicion arose that they might have leaked imperial secrets to Calua, their reputation would inevitably suffer a severe blow.

Using Reiana’s misstep, Tanashia had entangled the entire Dante family—aiming to weaken the Emperor’s faction.

It was precisely because Tanashia’s scheme was so brilliant that Kishandra had decisively joined without hesitation.

They had spread rumors through high society faster than Reiana, and secretly won over the newspaper by presenting evidence.

Unintentionally, they had turned Reiana and David’s own conspiracy right back against them.

Moreover, today’s banquet invitation sent to Reiana alone had deliberately listed a different arrival time.

Everyone else had arrived slightly early, ensuring conversations about Reiana flowed naturally.

Reiana shouted as if truly aggrieved,

“Tanashia, you cunning wretch! How dare you try to pin things on me that I never did!”

Tanashia replied in a whisper only Reiana could hear,

“You tried to kill me—yet find this unfair?”

Reiana had been the first to drive Tanashia into a corner. Without Ascan, Tanashia might truly have died.

Yet Reiana now protested indignantly at suffering consequences—it was laughably absurd.

Tanashia always repaid in kind—kindness with kindness, hatred with hatred.

Since Reiana had attacked first, there was no reason to show mercy.

Tanashia smiled sweetly and said,

“Since tonight is likely your last banquet, enjoy it.”

If Tanashia’s plan proceeded as intended, Reiana would begin experiencing a new hell starting tomorrow.

Everything she currently enjoyed would vanish before her eyes.

Reiana glared at Tanashia as if ready to tear her apart—but the sight felt not threatening, only pitiful.

To Tanashia, this was merely the beginning. Having provoked House Dante, Emperor Petro would not remain idle—and she was already prepared for that.

Just as Tanashia turned to move to the next step—

Tatata-tak!

The sound of someone urgently running into the banquet hall echoed through the room.

Moments later, the flushed-faced steward appeared and shouted loudly,

“His, His Imperial Majesty the Emperor… has passed away!”

What?

Tanashia stared, startled, at the steward who had suddenly appeared.

She knew Petro’s health was poor—but his death was something no one had predicted.

And it signaled that Lazent Empire’s political landscape was about to be engulfed in a storm.