The Possessed Evil Woman Wreaks Havoc - Chapter 88

“It’s what you’d call the battlefield of high society.”

Jessie, who was fixing my hair, explained it to me.

“Battlefield?”

The word “battlefield” stirred my excitement.

How exactly do they compete? Do they throw tea at each other or something?

“Bella. Don’t take the word ‘battle’ literally, okay?”

Nigel, who was listening in, gave me a heads-up.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s more like… a battle of pride. Yeah, that’s a better description.”

A battle of pride?

I must have looked like I still didn’t understand, so Nigel added an explanation.

“It’s basically noblewomen gathering in high society to brag about who’s better.”

“Then I’ve already won.”

There couldn’t be anyone better than me. I wasn’t even human, so comparing me to them was an insult.

The two reacted very differently to my words.

“Of course our young lady’s already won! In bloodline, beauty—and you’re even a Saintess! No matter which noble lady they bring, she’s nothing compared to you.”

Jessie responded with great enthusiasm.

Nigel, on the other hand, looked conflicted.

“…Well, you’re not wrong, but you should never say that out loud. The real way to win in high society is to boast subtly. If you say it outright like that, you’re just an amateur.”

Nigel’s words stirred up my competitive spirit.

Demons were inherently obsessed with battle. A social war? Naturally, it intrigued me.

“Then how do I become intermediate level?”

“At intermediate level, someone else sings your praises. In short, you need followers.”

Isabella probably didn’t have any followers… so I couldn’t use the intermediate strategy.

“What about expert level?”

“It’s the hardest yet simplest.”

Nigel paused before continuing, “Whatever the method, as long as you instill an overwhelming sense of defeat in your opponent, it’s enough.”

Oh.

Nigel’s explanation was surprisingly plausible. I was impressed—but also curious.

“Nigel, how do you know all this?”

“Daphne told me once. Anyway, don’t go on about beginner, intermediate, expert—just eat dessert and come back.”

“Dessert? What do you mean?”

“Wasn’t your whole reason for attending the tea party the Imperial chef’s desserts? I figured that was it.”

Nigel wasn’t wrong, so I felt a bit guilty. But I kept a straight face and answered, “No. I’m attending to become a master of high society.”

“…Just so you know, using physical force to instill defeat is off-limits. Got it?”

“Tch.”

“Tch?! Honestly… sending someone like you to a tea party… what did the other noble ladies ever do to deserve this?”

Nigel groaned as he clutched his head.

***

Originally, tea parties were social events.

Around prettily decorated tables with sweets and flowers, nobles sat in groups, chatting away.

Then a striking red-haired lady raised her voice.

“Everyone’s heard the news, right?”

At her words, silence fell over the nobles.

Conversations stopped, and heads turned toward her, waiting for her next words.

“That Lady Dunkeld is attending today’s tea party.”

As soon as she finished, glances were exchanged.

In the empire’s ever-restless high society, interests shifted constantly.

But for the past few months, everyone’s attention had been fixed on one person.

Isabella Dunkeld.

“Ah, should I be calling her Saintess now? I’m still not used to the title.”

The woman who brought up the topic covered her mouth with a teacup to hide her smile.

With the ice broken, the nobles began joining the conversation one by one.

“Honestly, I feel the same. The way she’s behaved up until now was far from saintly.”

“Even though she came from such a prestigious family, she always seemed a bit lacking.”

Even among nobles, there was a hierarchy. The House of Dunkeld was at the very top.

At least, it should have been.

If only the Lady of House Dunkeld hadn’t been so foolish.

Rumors had long circulated that she had lost the Duke of Dunkeld’s favor, and she wasn’t the type suited for high society.

A short temper that flared at the slightest provocation.

Especially if anyone brought up her strained relationship with her family, Isabella would throw a fit.

So people provoked her on purpose.

The more pathetic Isabella looked, the more base satisfaction they got.

And now that very Isabella was being called a Saintess?

There was hardly anyone here who welcomed that fact.

“I heard she’s been getting rather close with His Highness the Crown Prince lately…”

“His Highness is so kind, he probably has no choice but to associate with her.”

“Apparently the temple assigned Prince Kayden as her escort knight…”

“Everyone here knows Prince Kayden is deeply pious, right?”

The sudden reversal of Isabella’s status upon becoming a Saintess.

It was more than enough to stir jealousy in the young ladies who had already disliked her.

At that moment, Isabella came into view, walking from afar.

Everyone turned their heads toward her all at once.

Then someone exclaimed, “Oh my, who’s that man next to the Lady?”

The onlookers’ gazes shifted from Isabella to the man escorting her.

Though dressed as a servant, he gave off a noble air.

Not quite as stunning as Prince Kayden, but enough to catch attention.

His long, slanted eyes added a unique charm.

The man, apparently her servant, was utterly devoted to the Lady.

Even after escorting her to the tea party venue, he showed no intention of leaving her side.

“…going with you…”

“…to protect…”

From snippets of their conversation, it was easy to guess how dearly he cared for the Lady.

“My goodness. How romantic.”

Some young ladies sighed without realizing it.

The Lady seemed to be saying something to the man. Her voice didn’t carry, but judging by the atmosphere, she appeared to be scolding him for being overprotective.

The man grinned and then took the Lady’s hand…

“Did he just kiss the back of her hand?”

“Yes! It definitely looked like it!”

The distance made it hard to see clearly, but there could be only one meaning to such a gesture.

It was enough to make the cheeks of every unmarried young lady turn red.

And the Lady’s response?

She smiled shyly at him—it was like a painting.

***

“I said I’m going with you, too.”

Nigel had been insisting for a while now that he was going to attend the tea party with me.

“What are you talking about? Do you see anyone else here with a servant in tow?”

I glanced at the nobles gathered around the tables as I spoke.

I wasn’t the type to care about appearances, but I needed some excuse to get rid of him.

His constant hovering and monitoring was annoying.

Feigning ignorance of his real intentions, I tried to divert the topic.

“If it’s about the desserts, I’ll bring some back for you afterward.”

“…Ha. Fine. Not like anything will actually happen…”

Nigel tried to reassure himself. But his still-trembling eyes showed he didn’t trust me one bit.

“…Absolutely no use of physical force. Got it?”

“You really have no faith in me.”

“I have to protect those poor young ladies from your demonic clutches…”

Who’s worried about whom here?

Annoyed, I reached out, ready to yank a handful of Nigel’s hair.

He swiftly caught my hand.

Then, leaning in close, he whispered, “There are too many eyes watching. Didn’t you say you care about your reputation in high society now?”

“Tch. Fine. Let go.”

He had a point. I had to keep my temper in check.

I turned to Nigel and gave him the gentlest smile I could muster.

He instinctively took a step back.

“Whoa, your smile is… something.”

Not exactly weird, but why does it trigger such an instinctive reaction?

Nigel muttered to himself.