Chapter 46

“They’re fighting among themselves.” Diane scoffed before turning to Nerys with a warm smile.

“The flowers smell lovely. I wonder who picked them?”

“I heard Sir Sheridan gathered them with the older students,” Nerys replied gracefully. “In return, those students will assist him when he hosts a literary salon with his acquaintances from high society.”

Alecto’s expression twisted at those words.

Nerys had just mentioned what was commonly known as the Sheridan Circle.

Every year, Sir Sheridan introduced his favorite students to the most prestigious noblewomen of high society. These women had once been his own protégées, and in turn, they took special care of the students he recommended.

While the event was framed as a simple gathering, it was, in reality, a gateway into aristocratic connections.

Alecto’s older sister had desperately wanted to join but had given up when she realized only the top-ranked students in the upper-year etiquette classes were ever considered.

And yet, Nerys Truydd knew about this?

If Sir Sheridan hadn’t planned to include her in his circle, why would he have shared such details with her?

“Is that so?” Diane said, her voice deliberately sweet, ensuring Alecto, Rhiannon, and even the quiet Angharad could hear. “It would’ve been great if you could have gone, too. I’d love to hear about those things.”

Understanding her intent completely, Nerys responded with an equally pleasant tone.

“It would have been a great honor, but as you know, I’m too young. Besides, I still have much to learn, and I wouldn’t be able to attend an official salon anyway.”

“That’s true.”

Diane cast a pointed look at Alecto, Rhiannon, and Angharad, as if to say, Did you hear that?

Alecto scowled and turned away.

Rhiannon’s hands twitched intermittently.

Sir Sheridan, having moved from discussing floral arrangements to the significance of each noble family’s emblematic flowers, clapped his hands together.

“As you all know, midterms are in two weeks. So, next weekend, we’ll be holding a mock exam. It’s not a substitute for class, so attendance isn’t mandatory. However, it’s an opportunity to ask questions about the test. Many of your upperclassmen used this session to improve their scores, so I highly recommend you attend.”

At first, the students groaned at the idea of rehearsing for an exam. But as Sir Sheridan continued, they reluctantly accepted the necessity.

Diane pouted but turned to Nerys and whispered.

“Do you have any other classes that day? You’ll come with me, right?”

“Of course. It seems useful.”

As she replied, Nerys glanced at Megara’s table.

Aidalia and Megara were sitting together, talking in hushed voices.

Aidalia, with her loosely braided beige hair tied with a ribbon, wore a soft pink sweater with fluffy trim. She looked almost endearing.

She giggled at something Megara said, then turned her head, momentarily locking eyes with Nerys.

Nerys naturally averted her gaze.

Aidalia tilted her head slightly before dismissing the moment entirely.

Aidalia Kendall had grown up hearing that she was a kind person.

Nerys had suspected as much.

In her past life, when most of their classmates had openly made snide remarks at Nerys, Aidalia had remained silent.

The day after Nerys missed class due to illness, she had asked about the homework.

Other students had groaned dramatically, loudly complaining without addressing her directly.

Aidalia hadn’t joined them.

When others tossed her assigned materials onto the floor carelessly, Aidalia hadn’t done that either.

She hadn’t spoken to Nerys.

She hadn’t looked at her.

She hadn’t handed anything to her.

In a school life filled with thorns, Aidalia’s indifference had been the closest thing to relief.

Nerys had long since given up expecting anyone to like her.

She had wished, more than anything, to be invisible.

So Aidalia’s refusal to acknowledge her had been a comfort.

In Nerys’s mind, Aidalia had been one of the few people she could tolerate.

That image shattered on graduation day.

That day, the students, dressed in their caps and gowns, were surrounded by flowers and gifts, hugging their friends, exchanging letters, and looking forward to their new lives in high society.

Among them, Nerys stood alone, quietly grieving her mother’s sudden passing.

Outside, a carriage from the Elandria family waited to take her away.

Then, Aidalia approached her.

At first, Nerys assumed she was going to say Move or something equally dismissive.

But instead, Aidalia handed her a letter.

It had been so long since she had received a letter from a classmate that Nerys instinctively assumed she was meant to deliver it to someone else.

Seeing her hesitation, Aidalia smiled.

“It’s for you. Read it when you’re alone later.”

The words made no sense.

But Aidalia had an aura of sincerity that was difficult to doubt.

Her slender shoulders, large clear eyes, and delicately adorned features made her look so refined—so elegant.

Though she wasn’t as dazzling as Megara, she still carried herself in a way that drew admiration.

Nerys hadn’t been able to refuse her.

She had merely nodded, unwilling to speak for fear of annoying Aidalia.

Aidalia smiled once more and then quickly returned to her friends.

Later, as the unfamiliar carriage of House Elandria carried her away from Noble Academy forever, Nerys opened the letter.

> To Nerys.
>
> Clever Nerys, I actually wanted to be closer to you during our time at school. But Megara hated the idea, so I couldn’t.
>
> I heard you were adopted by the Elandria duchy. Congratulations. The next time we meet, let’s greet each other with a smile.
>
> —Aidalia.

Nerys knew she wasn’t particularly good at reading people. She struggled to decipher the true intentions behind their words.

That was natural. Such knowledge came from experience, and hers had been limited.

But even she could tell how absurd Aidalia’s letter had been.

Megara hated her too much for them to be friends?

It was true that no one dared defy Megara. But even when she wasn’t watching, the students had still been cruel to Nerys.

Aidalia as well.

Even when there was no one else around, Aidalia had treated her as if she were invisible.

If she had committed to that choice, then why not continue ignoring her?

Why send that letter at all?

It would have been better if she hadn’t mentioned Megara’s name. But by doing so, Nerys felt as if she had caught a glimpse of Aidalia’s true face—that of a girl so fixated on her own goodness that she needed to justify it, even to the person she had chosen to disregard.

The letter had been baffling, but it wasn’t enough to make Nerys resent Aidalia.

It only made her suspect that Aidalia wasn’t as pure-hearted as her reputation suggested.

The moment Nerys truly came to dislike her came later—after she had entered high society.

At the time, Natasha Grünehals had been the longtime lover of Abelus, well into her mid-twenties.

They had been together for so long, and Natasha was the cherished daughter of a ducal family. Everyone assumed a wedding announcement would come soon.

Then, unexpectedly, rumors of a marriage between House Elandria and the imperial family began circulating.

For the first time, Natasha took notice of the small, unremarkable Nerys Elandria.

Nerys had known the situation well enough.

Natasha and Abelus had been famous as a couple since their academy days.

She had never imagined that she—a nobody—could take the place of the dazzling, ginger-haired Natasha.

But the Elandria family—no, Nellusion—had taken her in when she had nowhere to go.

If this was what was required of her, then she would comply.

She had cursed her shamelessness a hundred times over, yet she had gone along with the engagement talks.

It was around that time that Aidalia reached out to her.

> Natasha wants to speak with you. It’s not my place to interfere, but if you’re willing, please meet her. I’ll be there too, so don’t worry.

Looking back, the letter had been suspicious from the start.

But at the time, Nerys had been exhausted.

She had resigned herself to the possibility that Natasha might hurl insults at her.

She followed the servant to the meeting place—a run-down estate on the outskirts of the city.

It wasn’t the kind of venue a high-ranking noblewoman would typically choose, but Nerys, too weary to be suspicious, entered without protest.

And there, in what appeared to be a sitting room, she was kidnapped.

The mastermind?

Eustace Grünehals, Natasha’s only and deeply devoted brother.

He likely bore no personal grudge against Nerys.

But when he saw his sister—whom he had always believed destined for the highest station—wounded by some girl of unknown origins, he had acted swiftly.

Natasha, beneath her beautiful face and refined manners, had a cruel streak.

It was easy to imagine that her tastes had influenced Eustace’s plan—one that involved feeding Nerys a slow-acting poison before selling her into slavery.

Fortunately, Nerys had managed to escape the situation with quick thinking.

Yet, after learning of the incident, the Duke of Elandria had reprimanded her for her carelessness.

When the plan failed, Aidalia bombarded Nerys with letters claiming there had been some misunderstanding.

For the first time, Nerys saw how persistent Aidalia could be when something concerned her directly.

Nerys never responded.

But as a marquis’s daughter, Aidalia moved in the same circles.

Eventually, at a party, Aidalia clasped Nerys’s hand tightly, pulled her aside, and whispered with teary eyes.

“I had no idea, Nerys. I was so shocked when I found out. I never thought Natasha would do such a thing… How did you get out of it? Was it Nellusion who saved you?”

The glimmer in her eyes when she casually inserted that last question—

That was the moment Nerys understood her.

Aidalia knew.

She thought she knew how deeply Nerys had fallen for Nellusion.

She also knew that Nellusion, at the very least, treated Nerys with enough kindness to be mistaken for something more.

“She didn’t know Natasha was like that?”

Was that true?

High-ranking noble families were well-acquainted with one another from childhood.

It was impossible not to have some idea of their true personalities.

Even Natasha, as experienced as she was, had likely seen through Aidalia’s carefully constructed facade.

That’s why she had chosen Aidalia as a silent accomplice—someone who would lure the target but keep her mouth shut afterward.

Now, given this second chance, Nerys fully intended to repay Aidalia for her past deeds.

Not in the same way she had dealt with Angharad, Rhiannon, or Alecto.

There was no need for that.

“I haven’t forgotten. That’s all.”

A marquis’s daughter wouldn’t suddenly find herself in real trouble at school.

At least, not with the little power Nerys had at the moment.

But.

“Not everyone is powerless.”