15.
Time flew quickly. In that time, there had been three more waltz lessons, and the day to ascend to the capital was now just two days away.
Since the first day, Cardier had not shown her obvious interest. Though whenever she felt his gaze and lifted her head, their eyes met instantly. Either observe without getting caught, or if you’re going to be caught, at least try to hide it. Rosetta grumbled inwardly.
Recently, she had been closely observing Cardier’s change in demeanor. Unlike four years ago, when his thoughts were transparent without effort, this time it wasn’t easy at all.
Damn it. How exactly did I used to sense things so instantly before? Now that I think about it, could it be that he’s the one whose soul has been swapped? Otherwise, there’s no way he’d feel so much like a completely different person. Though, strangely enough, at least his sense of smell still clung to her like a damn dog’s.
Instinct? Or something else…?
“You’ve improved a lot.”
Rosetta kept her posture steady, skillfully wiping all expression from her face.
As Cardier said, her dancing ability was improving day by day. Even the most worthless piece of junk, like Capshton, could become usable if properly oiled and made to move diligently.
Then the effort required to raise the sails would be much less, leaving more energy to focus on other preparations for departure. The human body followed the same principle.
Leah’s body, being young and youthful, recovered at an astonishing speed. Once she regained a certain level of stamina, dancing one or two waltzes in a row no longer left her gasping for breath.
Though small and lacking muscle, even if her condition still fell short of Rosetta’s standards, she had at least recovered to the point of not dying—thanks to adequate food and moderate exercise. In other words, upgraded from trash to recyclable waste….
If only the damn diet hadn’t been so strict, she might have even gained muscle. Then again, after twenty years of eating nothing but grass clippings, it was only natural that collapsing for just three months would bring her to life-or-death extremes.
Finally, the last waltz ended. Rosetta curtsied properly. Cardier returned the bow, then suddenly added, as if remembering something.
“Today is the last lesson.”
“…Why not continue?”
Rosetta brightened with delight, then quickly added it out of politeness after checking Cardier’s expression. To think the day would come when she’d have to read that bloodsucker’s mood. The feeling was overwhelmingly new. And certainly not in a good way.
“Don’t you ascend to the capital’s social circle in two days?”
Rosetta awkwardly nodded.
The capital’s social circle. For ordinary young noblewomen, it would be a lifelong dream, a time to giddily anticipate invitations to balls. But to Rosetta, who had seen everything, it felt like a ridiculous era where canaries huddled together in a cage, showing off their feathers.
Still, since it was a world she didn’t know, showing a certain degree of appropriate nervousness would seem natural.
“I am nervous.”
Yet saying such a thing with a face so visibly bored it looked like she’d die of monotony left an impression worse than saying nothing at all. Cardier’s lips twisted slightly, and he spoke in a cold, composed tone.
“I’d advise you not to dance with anyone after the first dance.”
“May I ask why?”
“The piece I taught you is the waltz that opens the ball. You can confidently dance only that one piece, and you don’t yet know the others.”
It was, of course, a perfectly reasonable explanation. Moreover, coming from the man who stood at the very pinnacle of high society—the man every lady dreamed of claiming as her own—it carried considerable credibility. Rosetta nodded, almost hypnotized.
“I understand.”
“The first ball will be the welcoming party at the Renouac manor.”
He gently extended his hand. Rosetta placed her hand on his palm. It had become almost a reflexive action from dancing waltzes together so frequently lately. Only afterward did she realize, with a jolt, how much she resembled a well-trained pet.
Offended, she tried to pull her hand back, but Cardier locked it in place with an interlaced grip. His elegant fingers swiftly tightened between her knuckles. Leah’s small hand strained awkwardly under the pressure. Just one step closer from him cast a shadow of intimidation over her. The difference in their stature felt newly pronounced.
Rosetta tried to appear even more confident, puffing her chest out to hide the tremor of her startled heart. But Cardier simply gazed down at her with the eyes of an observer.
“…?”
“….”
“Why, what….”
Perhaps Cardier was waiting for some sign. A blush on the cheek, a trembling voice—typical reactions women often showed him.
Instinctively, Rosetta realized he was testing her. That this gaze was of the dangerous kind.
An alarm rang in her mind. Her spine tingled as if standing before Kirgos’s blade, and cold sweat crept down her skin.
Her thoughts spiraled toward extremes. What if this hand clasp was, in fact, the final ritual before hanging? What if his constant observation was merely to find the best way to crush her throat?
Should she just quietly eliminate Cardier, unseen by rat or bird? After all, if she fled, the Valdemore dukedom would mobilize all its forces to hunt her down. If she was going to be chased anyway, why not take Montrosa’s enemies along with her?
The problem was that while the original Rosetta could have handled murder or assassination easily, doing so with Leah’s body offered a slim chance of success. Still, she would find a way. As she always had.
Cardier suddenly asked.
“Would you honor me by attending the Renouac ball together?”
“…Huh? Yes?”
She had been mentally measuring the location of Cardier’s carotid artery with narrowed eyes, so her reply came out slightly dazed.
“I’m requesting you as my partner.”
Rosetta let out a faint, dry chuckle.
Rosetta might be ignorant of high society’s etiquette, but she knew human nature better than anyone. After all, from birth until the age of fifteen—before becoming Kirgos’s adopted daughter—she had lived in the port where every vile crime in the world took place. She was thoroughly acquainted with human instincts.
Leah’s position was that of a pitiful noblewoman jilted by the crown prince, while the man before her was the ideal husband every woman in society, regardless of age, drooled over. Leah alone would attract all kinds of attention—adding Cardier into the mix?
It wasn’t even worth considering. Her plan to remain inconspicuous throughout this social season would be ruined. Rosetta shook her head.
“I’ve already… made plans to attend with another nobleman.”
“Who might that be?”
The original Rosetta would have gotten tangled up right from the “who is it?” question. But she had prior experience repeating similar conversations with the duchess, and had gained results from it.
She named the most decent-looking man among those who had asked to be her partner.
“The young nobleman from the Viscount Benzley household.”
Regin or Morgan, something like that. His attitude had been surprisingly plain, suggesting he wouldn’t cling desperately even if engaged—so she’d remembered the family name.
She worried he might press her to recall the exact name, but Cardier surprisingly accepted it indifferently.
“I see.”
His eyes turned cold again, as if losing interest. He gave a brief, formal bow.
“Then.”
“Are you leaving now?”
“Yes.”
Rosetta barely restrained herself from whistling a tune. Yes, go on, go. And never look at Leah’s body again. Behind his back, she flipped him the finger, but suddenly, at the doorway, Cardier abruptly turned around. Rosetta swiftly hid her arm behind her back.
Did he see? He must have, right? Cold sweat broke out again. Cardier’s perfectly sculpted brow was slightly distorted.
“Noble lady. Perhaps….”
“….”
“Where exactly did you learn to overuse that ‘-eyo’?”
…Damn that Lady Valmong. Rosetta scowled darkly.
* * *
“Have you gathered all your belongings?”
“More or less.”
Once the servants had loaded the final luggage onto the carriage, preparations for departure to Madcel were complete. Anna had been bustling around the mansion since dawn, checking for anything left behind. It seemed less out of loyalty to her and more out of concern for her own safety.
“Oh my! I nearly forgot my thimble! Can you imagine cutting my fingers raw while sewing?”
“Goodness! Mrs. Reid handed me a handkerchief I’d missed. What if I’d started sniffling?”
“Good heavens! I almost left all of these behind!”
That was how it went. And the “these” Anna referred to were balls of yarn. Rosetta carefully chose her words, worried Anna might take offense.
“…Surely you don’t think, um, you can’t buy such things in the capital?”
“Oh, honestly. You truly know nothing about how the world works!”
A frankly pitiful look was shot her way.
Who was mocking whom…?
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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