Chapter 87
Nerys already knew who would be crowned this year’s queen. She had never personally attended the awarding ceremony, but everyone in her grade knew, so she had no choice but to know as well.
The fact that Megara had been crowned queen at every single graduation ball she attended, from her first to her actual graduation ball.
Events from her past life and those happening before her eyes overlapped in her hazy vision, merged, separated, and merged again, creating fractures in Nerys’s mind.
In that illusion, Diane briefly became someone completely different before returning to the familiar Diane.
Nerys’s gaze flickered toward Megara.
The table reserved by Colin Ganielo for Megara wasn’t far. Megara, sitting there, smiled brightly, chatting with Colin just like the image in Nerys’s memories.
Beside them sat Izet, Valentin, and several of Megara’s followers, each positioned according to their status, surrounded by a glow that seemed like it would never fade.
Even after starting a new life, Megara remained unchanged.
Yes, in her previous life, she wouldn’t have even dared to sit at one of those expensive tables at the graduation ball, dressed in noble clothes like royalty, sitting with a handsome man—and yet, Nerys remained the same as well.
Nerys felt foolish. Ever since Megara had approached Cledwyn earlier, and after remembering that Izet’s status was more suited to Cledwyn, she had felt strange inside.
She wanted to drink heavily but barely held herself back, drawing on the self-control she had learned in her previous life.
In the first place, Nerys had never learned how to properly enjoy drinking in moderation. She couldn’t.
At official events, she could never afford to show any weaknesses, so she only drank the bare minimum for courtesy; in private, no one ever drank with her, and she ended up drinking recklessly alone.
There was a time… perhaps during one of the mandatory visits due to marital duty, when she drunkenly whined to Abelus.
She didn’t remember exactly, but it was probably something like asking him to stay the night instead of leaving immediately after fulfilling his obligation. The next day, Megara had mocked her with those words.
– “Your Highness the Crown Princess, unlike you, the rightful wife of His Highness, I am merely a concubine. So if His Highness doesn’t take pity on me and spend the night in my room, how could I possibly have a place to belong?”
That statement, wrapped in self-deprecation, was ultimately mockery.
Even though she was the legitimate wife, she hadn’t captured even a piece of his heart.
Otherwise, why would the wife immediately run to the concubine and spill every detail?
Back then, Nerys had been so ashamed she avoided Abelus for days. Abelus grumbled that the Crown Princess was too aloof, but she didn’t even have the strength to argue.
Around that time, Nellusion found out that Nerys had gotten drunk in front of Abelus and, under the pretense of concern, prohibited her from drinking again. It was probably because he feared she might spill family secrets.
Nerys herself was so embarrassed by what happened that she never touched alcohol again—even though at one point, it had almost reached the point of addiction.
‘It’s fine.’
Nerys whispered to herself.
‘I have nothing left to lose.’
Back then, Megara stole her husband. Now, Nerys had no husband. Not even a fiancé, not even a man she loved.
So even if someone tried to take something from her now, what meaning would it have?
“You’ve been staring at that for a while.”
Cledwyn, who had been silent, suddenly spoke. Nerys blinked twice in surprise.
Her hazy vision cleared instantly. Turning slightly, she saw Cledwyn smiling directly at her.
“You found something amusing to watch?”
“Something amusing?”
What was he talking about? As Nerys reflexively asked back, a scream suddenly erupted from Megara’s table.
“Kyaaah!”
It was Megara’s voice.
Every gaze in the banquet hall turned toward her. The scream was so loud it sounded like an armed assailant had stormed in.
When Nerys looked, Megara had jumped up from her chair and was frantically shaking her hair. Colin, meanwhile, had stepped back two paces, looking at her as if she were a bug.
The beautiful golden hair that had been elegantly pinned up was now spilling messily over her shoulders and back.
And, as if something was about to leap out from that hair, Izet and Valentin also backed away to put distance between themselves and Megara.
“What’s wrong with her?”
People at the nearby tables whispered. Even students in the far corners of the banquet hall whispered among themselves. From the outside, Megara looked as if she had suddenly gone mad.
Was there something in her hair?
Then Colin spoke, his voice half-amused and half-disgusted.
“You kept me waiting all that time while you were getting ready, and for what? Do you not wash? Why do you have lice in your hair?”
His theatrical tone made it clear it was a spontaneous outburst.
Another boy might not have said such a thing, or even if he did, he would have kept his mouth shut afterward.
But Megara’s influence was only absolute within her own class, and the Ganielo Ducal House that Colin belonged to was above the Lykeandros Marquessate.
Thus, Colin could speak his mind as he pleased, and thanks to him, the students quickly grasped the situation.
Lice.
Those present had only heard of lice among commoners. Few had ever actually seen it, even among their servants, who, although commoners, maintained strict cleanliness.
Therefore, nothing could have been more unfitting for the beautiful, angelic Megara than that word.
Faces that had held traces of laughter quickly turned away from her.
Even though Megara’s frantic attempts to brush her hair with her fingers clearly didn’t resemble someone who habitually lived with lice, that didn’t matter.
“Who was it?”
Nerys leaned slightly toward Cledwyn and asked in a short whisper. Cledwyn responded with a soft whisper, almost like a laugh.
“Valentin Elandria.”
“And?”
“Who else could it be.”
Cledwyn said it as if implying, ‘The culprit is obviously Valentin alone,’ but that wasn’t how it sounded to Nerys.
Sure, as the Grand Duke of Maindulante, he had no reason to involve himself in such petty pranks, but somehow, his laughter felt suspicious.
Megara, frantically combing through her hair as if to tear it out, finally regained some composure and realized the mocking stares around her. She quickly rose from her seat and rushed out of the banquet hall.
Some time after Megara left, Diane returned to the table, her eyes sparkling as she laughed.
“Megara’s holed herself up in the lounge.”
“Is that so?”
No wonder it had taken her a while to come back from voting—she must have stayed to see the aftermath of the commotion.
Nerys glanced sideways at Valentin. As expected, Valentin could barely conceal her triumphant expression.
In truth, Valentin didn’t even need to hide her emotions. Everyone already knew she had a bad relationship with Megara. Those who would suspect her would, and those who wouldn’t, wouldn’t, no matter what face she made.
As Bran pulled out a chair for her, Diane continued to chatter.
“How gross. Isn’t it contagious? When I was little, Betty caught it after playing with horses. You have to wash properly afterward, or you’ll catch lice. Megara’s good at riding, right? Maybe that’s how she got it. What if we catch it too?”
“Di.”
Even as she warned her with her nickname, Nerys couldn’t help but chuckle.
Few people in the banquet hall truly believed that Megara usually had lice. Diane’s loud gossip was simply mockery.
Most of Megara’s classmates kept ambiguous expressions and avoided commenting, but the seniors were already whispering conversations similar to Diane’s remarks. The reason was clear.
Resentment.
A need to compensate for wounded pride.
While students who weren’t graduating could attend, the event was ultimately centered around the graduates.
Considering the prestige of being crowned king or queen of the ball, seeing a non-graduate monopolize that honor repeatedly couldn’t sit well with them.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been a trivial incident. But with a few malicious twists from graduating girls, it could easily become a scandal that lingered until graduation.
Valentin, uncharacteristically, had used an indirect but effective method.
Normally, she would have ‘accidentally’ ruined Megara’s dress and forced her to leave. But that would’ve only led to gossip about Valentin herself the very next day.
Maybe Valentin was getting a little smarter with age.
In truth, Nerys didn’t particularly care whether Megara had lice or not.
But if Valentin had started behaving cleverly, she needed to keep an eye on her.
At that moment, a maid from the direction of the servant’s lounge—her face pale—hurried toward Valentin. Nerys recognized her.
A maid from the Elandria household.
Sensing something had happened, Nerys didn’t miss the moment the maid whispered something to Valentin.
Moments later, Valentin stood up with a face twisted in fury.
“Looks like the real show’s about to start.”
Cledwyn said lazily. Nerys was dumbfounded.
“What now?”
“You think it would end with just a few bugs?”
There was something even more ‘Valentin-like’ to come?
As Valentin strode away with the fastest gait a high-ranking noble lady could muster, the students exchanged excited glances.
What’s happening? Why is she like that? Should you go check? What? No way. Why get caught up in a senior’s mess and invite trouble…
Fortunately, even the students trying to maintain “decorum” soon found out what was going on.
Crying sounds. Running footsteps. Angry voices.
In short, a cacophony of negativity.
When the noise died down, Megara emerged—not from the servant’s lounge but from the women’s lounge, her face covered.
Was she crying? Some students looked puzzled.
Those closer to Megara’s path saw her hands and nape red and swollen, their eyes widening in shock. Valentin followed right behind, aggressively pressing her.
“Tell me properly, huh? Sister, how is your face being like that the fault of my maid? Did you eat something bad? Why did you slap my maid? Does the Elandria family seem like something you can mock?”
Though Megara’s face was mostly hidden by a shawl handed to her by her personal maid, judging by her neck, hands, and Valentin’s words, her face must have been a mess too.
Nerys barely held back her laughter.
Yes, this was more like the real Valentin.
After her first graduation ball last year, Megara had probably spent the whole year preparing to be crowned queen again this time.
Other girls prepared too, but for Megara, the expectations were much higher.
Not only destroying her angelic image but rendering her unable to even stay at the ball—this was perfectly in line with Valentin’s vindictive nature.
Whatever Valentin had used to ruin Megara’s appearance, it must have been severe.
Among those who had suffered the worst at Valentin’s hands, Nerys herself was certainly near the top.
She had suffered through all kinds of schemes, but never had she been attacked with something that could inflame skin so instantly.
Still, she could guess what had happened.
“You… you gave that thing to Valentin, didn’t you? No, you probably didn’t just give it—you sold it, didn’t you?”
