The Price Is Your Everything - Chapter 17

Kind, fair, and beautiful Nellusion. Among the women of noble families close in age to him, there was already Natasha, the rose-like beauty of the Duke of Grunhals’ house, one of the three great ducal families.

Fortunately, Natasha was courting Crown Prince Abelus. However, there was no guarantee the relationship would lead to marriage. The Elandria Ducal House, the foremost among the ducal families, could push for Valentin Elandria to become the crown princess instead.

If the crown prince were to become engaged to Valentin, the Elandria family might arrange for their son to marry Natasha, whose age and lineage matched his. This possibility deeply unsettled Aidalia.

But even if Natasha didn’t end up engaged to him, would people leave Nellusion alone?

Would Megara be next in line for him?

Aidalia was shaken from her anxious musings by Sir Sheridan’s voice, as he pointed toward the lakeside pavilion.

“As we studied last time, form groups of four. Each group will take turns hosting as though entertaining guests. If you’re unsure what to do, feel free to ask me.”

Naturally, Aidalia ended up in Megara’s group, with two quick-footed boys filling the remaining spots. Rhiannon, who had hesitated and was too slow, frowned as she realized she’d been left out.

“What about me?”

“Sorry, Lini.”

“Well, Angharad Nine is by herself over there. You could team up with her,” said Aidalia and one of the boys in succession.

At the mention of Angharad, Rhiannon recoiled.

“No way!”

Aidalia looked uncomfortable. While it was true that no one wanted to be friends with someone who constantly stole, Rhiannon’s reaction was unnecessarily harsh.

Rhiannon, the granddaughter of a count, wasn’t particularly high-ranking herself, as her father was a second son.

‘It’d be nice if she learned to choose her words more carefully.’

Aidalia pitied Angharad, who seemed to have heard and lowered her head. However, stepping in to help would only make things awkward, so she held her tongue.

—

“Rhiannon, haven’t you formed a group yet?”

Sir Sheridan noticed the commotion and approached. Embarrassed by her outburst, Rhiannon replied reluctantly.

“It’s fine. I’ll team up with Alecto… oh, Alecto already has a group.”

“Sorry.”

Alecto, one of the few nearby students somewhat close to Rhiannon, quickly apologized. Sir Sheridan scanned the students before pointing to another group.

“Nerys, Diane, do you already have a full group?”

By now, most students had formed cliques, leaving Nerys and Diane to navigate school life largely on their own—a situation Diane, at least, found ideal. Diane, completely unbothered, answered confidently.

“No, it’s just the two of us.”

“Then Rhiannon can join your group. Anyone else without a group?”

Angharad raised her hand quietly.

The teachers, including Sir Sheridan, were well aware of Angharad’s poor social standing. Though he sighed inwardly, his tone remained bright and encouraging.

“Great, then the four of you can form a group. Is anyone still left without a group?”

There were none. The students, now grouped, chattered happily as they headed toward the pavilion.

—

The white pavilion at the lakeside featured slender carved columns and a circular roof, its base adorned with a fence of intertwined lilies and roses. The tables inside, draped in white linen, were elegantly set for a noble tea party, complete with ornate centerpieces and fine tea ware.

In Megara’s group, one of the boys quickly offered her his arm.

“Which table would you like?”

“That one, where the lake view is best.”

At Megara’s suggestion, no one dared to claim the table she’d chosen. Aidalia, impressed by Megara’s effortless influence, silently thanked her for securing such a prime spot.

Meanwhile, Rhiannon found herself grumbling internally. Delayed by Diane’s measured pace up the pavilion steps, she ended up at a table with a poorer view.

She disliked Diane, but she disliked Nerys even more. And her greatest ire was reserved for Angharad Nine.

Rhiannon’s disdain for Angharad had begun long before the bracelet incident. To her, Angharad was nothing more than the daughter of a petty baron governing a small and insignificant territory. Yet, she had the audacity to befriend others, even attempting to draw Rhiannon into a clique of low-ranking nobles.

Rhiannon, as the granddaughter of a venerable count’s house, found this laughable. While her father might be the second son and thus ineligible for the title, lineage was about more than rank—it was about legacy. Could a rural baron like Nine ever hope to hold their head high before a count’s second son? Absolutely not.

She had mocked Angharad countless times, inwardly thinking, ‘Serves her right.’

‘I just want this to end quickly so I can leave.’

Her derisive glances toward Angharad did not go unnoticed by their group. Angharad kept her eyes down and lips tightly shut, while Diane, indifferent to Rhiannon’s attitude, got straight to the point.

“Who wants to go first?”

“How about Nerys?” Rhiannon interjected coldly.

“Nerys always gets praised by Sir Sheridan. I wouldn’t know what to do, so why not show us an example?”

Rhiannon’s dislike for Nerys stemmed from something deeply ingrained: her belief that the most important quality in high society was “naturalness.”

Natural grace born of noble lineage, and a reputation stemming from that grace.

If one’s background was humble, they should only aspire to a reputation fitting their station. But Nerys Truydd was too arrogant. What was the point of speaking multiple languages fluently when she was too poor to marry into a good family?

She should have just gone into theology.

Despite the sharp edge in Rhiannon’s tone, Nerys smiled. The serene response only made Rhiannon angrier, though she couldn’t find a proper excuse to pick a fight. She simply glared at Nerys’ every move with a sour expression.

“Then I’ll start. Since you asked for a demonstration, I’ll treat you as my first guest. Rhiannon, thank you for coming to my party. I hope you have a wonderful time. That seat is yours—please, have a seat.”

Nerys’ gentle voice and graceful hand gestures were flawless, leaving no room for criticism.

Rhiannon’s mood soured further. Fortunately for her, there was something beyond Nerys’ voice and gestures to nitpick. This time, she didn’t hold back.

“You get praised all the time, but you’re not much after all. Don’t you even know where the seat of honor is? The first guest should be seated in the most prestigious spot.”

The chair Nerys pointed to was near the pavilion’s entrance, but the seat of honor should obviously be the one furthest from the entrance. Even someone like Rhiannon, who wasn’t well-versed in etiquette, knew that much.

“The seat of honor is over there,” Rhiannon declared.

Nerys remained calm and responded with composure. Rhiannon scoffed.

“It’s closer to the entrance.”

“In an enclosed space, the seat furthest from the door is the seat of honor, yes. But in a setting with a view, the best spot to enjoy the scenery becomes the seat of honor. At a lakeside tea party, the most prestigious seat is the one with the best view of the lake.”

Indeed, the seat Nerys had indicated offered the clearest view of the lake. Diane nodded haughtily in agreement.

“Riz is right. When we host parties in our garden, we always seat the most important guest where they can see the best flowers.”

“Well, that’s because your family…” Rhiannon began, ready to scoff, but hesitated when Nerys interrupted.

“If you’d like, we can ask Sir Sheridan.”

The Mackinnon family might not have been as noble as the Nines, but they weren’t a historic lineage. Rhiannon had heard adults disparage the Mackinnons as nouveau riche and was about to retort, but Nerys’ offer stopped her.

Nerys raised her hand without waiting for Rhiannon’s reply.

“Sir Sheridan, could we trouble you for a moment?”

“My little lady Nerys, what can I do for you? Do you finally have need of my assistance?” Sir Sheridan approached their table with a broad smile.

Rhiannon quickly shook her head.

“It’s nothing, sir. We were just joking around.”

“Is that so?” Sir Sheridan glanced at Nerys for confirmation. When she simply smiled serenely, he nodded and left.

“You’re unbelievable. Did you really need to call the teacher over?” Rhiannon muttered bitterly, grinding her teeth.

Public embarrassment was Rhiannon’s greatest fear—because it wasn’t “natural.”

Diane snorted. If there was one thing she was as familiar with as people approaching her family for money, it was disdain. She had seen countless attempts to demean her or the Mackinnon family for shallow reasons.

Though Rhiannon was known for her amicable relationships, Diane found her social circle predictable. So, she retorted sharply.

“You’re unbelievable. What, you can’t admit you’re wrong but don’t have the confidence to ask the teacher for clarification either?”

Rhiannon’s dislike for Diane and Nerys deepened.

To her, Diane was an unrefined girl who relied solely on wealth, and Nerys, despite her polite and quiet demeanor, clearly had a vile personality.

After all, there must have been a reason why someone as popular as Megara disliked Nerys from the start.

As Rhiannon fell silent, Nerys calmly offered Diane a seat.

“Diane, thank you for coming to my party. Your brooch is as red and lovely as that rose over there.”

“Thank you, Nerys. It’s so thoughtful of you to offer me such a wonderful seat.”

Diane replied warmly as she sat down, their rapport clearly visible. Rhiannon raised an eyebrow at the sight.

Finally, Nerys turned to Angharad.

“Angharad, it’s good to see you here. Diane and Rhiannon are already seated. I can’t thank you enough for gracing us with your presence.”

Angharad barely lifted her head to glance at Nerys, her eyes trembling with darkness. Nerys remained unshaken.

Angharad hesitated before sitting in the seat Nerys indicated. As Nerys moved to the last remaining seat, Angharad spoke in a quiet voice.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

“What was?”

Nerys asked nonchalantly, sitting with perfect posture. Angharad’s eyes burned with resentment.

“You’re the one who put the bracelet in my bag.”

“What?”

Though Rhiannon disliked Nerys, even she found Angharad’s words absurd.

Rhiannon scoffed. The emerald bracelet dangled from her wrist even now.

“Ridiculous. Why would she steal my bracelet just to put it in your bag?”

“Exactly,” Nerys replied lightly, her voice as airy as chiffon.

Angharad shot Rhiannon a resentful look.

“My dad buys me everything I need—clothes, school supplies. But Nerys is poor. She always wears the same clothes and doesn’t have servants. If someone were going to steal, wouldn’t it be her?”

Diane glanced at Nerys, but her serene smile hadn’t changed.

Rhiannon, perhaps emboldened by the humiliation she’d endured earlier, retorted sharply.

“But the bracelet was found in your bag, wasn’t it, idiot? If you wanted to argue, you should have done it before you got caught. What’s the point of denying it now with evidence against you? Don’t make me laugh. If you don’t want to embarrass yourself further, shut your mouth.”

Though Rhiannon wasn’t known for her eloquence, her piercing gaze had a way of overwhelming her opponents.

As Angharad flinched and fell silent, Nerys smiled faintly to herself.

Rhiannon, as much as she had grown, was still exactly as Nerys remembered her from childhood.