Vanessa’s expression cracked the instant she was singled out.
She recovered quickly, but Eleanor had already caught the flicker of agitation beneath the mask.
“Or perhaps,” Mary Duvar said with a subtle smile, “we should simply admire Miss Stikoff’s generous heart for willingly sharing a carriage with a common orphan.”
There was unmistakable hostility and contempt in the way she looked at Vanessa.
It felt eerily similar to the atmosphere Eleanor used to sense whenever one of the villainous noble ladies targeted Lydia.
“Vanessa truly is remarkable,” Cora Duvar continued smoothly after her sister. “Born a common orphan, sponsored by the baron, and now even riding alongside Miss Stikoff as an equal. I suppose noble blood isn’t everything after all.”
Only Carol Duvar, still smiling innocently, seemed untouched by the strange tension spreading among the five girls.
The sisters’ animosity toward Vanessa hung thickly in the air.
Eleanor glanced at Vanessa, whose fists were tightly clenched. She had expected her to fire back immediately, yet surprisingly, Vanessa remained silent.
“But now that the baron’s true blood relative has arrived, the difference is obvious from birth itself,” Mary added softly. “To be honest, it always pained me seeing Vanessa wandering around in those excessively gaudy dresses like some sort of clown. They simply didn’t suit her.”
Lowering her eyes, she wore a face full of false sympathy, clearly aware that pity wounded pride more effectively than open mockery.
So much for naïve country nobles.
Eleanor watched with disbelief as the exact same factional scheming she had grown sick of in the Bayrn social circles unfolded here in the Levin territory.
Even the subtle attempts to pull her onto their side were identical.
“Miss Stikoff, did you know?” Mary continued. “Before you arrived, Vanessa acted as though she were the baron’s real daughter.”
“That’s true,” Cora chimed in. “She was unbearably arrogant.”
“She ignored the servants of noble households as if she were a noble herself, cut ties with the commoners she used to know before entering the baron’s estate, and strutted around even in Oclama. Or so I’ve heard from the people who migrated here to our territory.”
Cora’s voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper while Mary nodded along enthusiastically.
How is this exactly the same?
Eleanor nearly laughed.
Back at the academy, one of the girls who liked Ernst had approached Eleanor in precisely this way, spewing venom about Lydia.
Apparently, the girl had assumed Eleanor—the extra sister who existed only for the heroine’s sake—would naturally join her.
Eleanor had shut her down immediately. If she gave even the slightest opening, she would inevitably get dragged into the role of villainess alongside them.
After several cold rejections, no one approached her again with suggestions to hate Lydia together.
And once Eleanor began distancing herself from high society and spending time only with Stella, she had largely avoided factional conflicts altogether.
“But now that the baron’s true relative has come, Vanessa will surely know her place,” Mary said with a malicious smile. “Surely she wouldn’t dare show off with you here.”
Eleanor had come to Levin partly because she knew the Duvar sisters had interacted with Vanessa for years.
She had wondered whether Vanessa truly had ambitions toward the lordship and had quietly taken control over Oclama.
But now that she saw them face-to-face, Eleanor could roughly imagine how much the sisters must have tormented Vanessa under the excuse of “social interaction.”
They must have seated her in front of them and said all kinds of things like this endlessly. Whether because they were nobles or for some other reason, Vanessa likely endured it all silently whenever she faced these sisters.
Not that it’s any of my business whether she gets bullied or not.
Regardless of how she personally felt about Vanessa, Eleanor could tell the Duvar sisters’ accusations were flimsy.
If Vanessa had truly behaved that way, Aunt Pomfury would never have ignored it.
When Eleanor glanced sideways, she saw Vanessa trembling faintly while keeping her face utterly blank.
There was no will to resist.
Only familiar resignation and endurance.
Exactly like Eleanor herself in Bayrn.
This feels unpleasant.
Seeing the sisters corner Vanessa while she resembled Eleanor’s former self left a bitter taste in her mouth.
So this is how I must have looked.
For the first time, she finally understood why Stella had always exploded with fury on her behalf.
Just as Eleanor had faithfully played the role of the “extra older sister,” Vanessa was faithfully enduring the role of the sponsored orphan her aunt had taken in.
“Ladies Duvar.”
Eleanor spoke calmly.
At the deep resonance of her voice, everyone’s attention shifted toward her.
Internally, they might be enemies, but externally both Eleanor and Vanessa belonged to Oclama and House Pomfury.
And because of that, Eleanor had to help Vanessa.
For Oclama’s sake.
For House Pomfury’s sake.
“If Vanessa behaved rudely toward you, then I shall apologize on her behalf.”
“What? Oh, no, Miss, there’s no need for you to apologize—”
Cora faltered slightly at Eleanor’s unexpected response.
“But it pains me deeply.”
Cutting her off, Eleanor met Cora’s eyes directly.
“Vanessa is someone my aunt cherishes dearly. My aunt personally bought her dresses and jewelry as gifts. Were they truly that awful? If Vanessa was mocked because of them, I fear my aunt would be terribly hurt.”
As Eleanor continued speaking, the faces of the Duvar sisters—excluding the youngest—gradually drained of color.
If the dresses had been gifts from the baroness, then insulting Vanessa’s appearance became equivalent to insulting the baroness herself.
Eleanor scoffed inwardly.
She had no idea what dresses Vanessa had worn, but her aunt had probably bought them.
There was no certainty whatsoever behind the claim, but Eleanor stated it confidently anyway.
Who here would verify the truth?
At this table, whatever she said became reality.
“That’s not what we meant at all!” the sisters hurriedly protested.
But Eleanor had no intention of letting them off easily.
“My aunt treasures Vanessa. She even told me she treats us without discrimination. And yet…” Eleanor let her voice soften sorrowfully. “Did Vanessa truly pretend to be a noble? My aunt educated her personally, so I simply cannot imagine it…”
Eleanor might have spent years suffering in Bayrn, but that was when facing the protagonists.
Against mere extras like this, she knew perfectly well how to strike efficiently.
“…Surely,” she asked gently, “you ladies haven’t been discriminating against Vanessa for being a commoner?”
Her tone carried complete disbelief that such a thing could happen.
Though the hierarchy between nobles and commoners undeniably existed, openly weaponizing status was considered vulgar among the aristocracy.
Discrimination was usually subtle, woven into daily life until commoners became accustomed to it.
In other words, nobles rarely displayed prejudice openly.
Especially—
“In Bayrn, there are hardly any nobles who discriminate against commoners.”
—among the capital nobility.
Those aristocrats were so obsessed with appearances that they almost never revealed their superiority openly.
Besides, the former emperor himself had been born from a commoner mother, making the capital nobles even more cautious.
Confusion spread across the Duvar sisters’ faces.
Eleanor’s words shook the values of girls who admired the social circles of the capital.
In Levin, treating nobles and commoners differently was considered entirely natural. But if the capital supposedly did not behave that way, then they could not openly insist they were correct.
Yet if they blamed Vanessa instead, it would imply that Baron Pomfury had educated her poorly.
It became an impossibly awkward situation.
What do we even say now?
They stared blankly, overwhelmed by Eleanor’s soft yet relentless pressure.
Still, as the eldest, Cora recovered first and forced a smile.
She had assumed Eleanor would naturally side with them.
Now she realized she had moved too hastily.
“We merely repeated what the servants said,” Cora replied carefully. “We never discriminated against Vanessa.”
A clever escape route.
Unfortunately for her, Eleanor had been trained in the brutal politics of Bayrn society.
“Then could you perhaps summon the servant who said those things?” Eleanor asked pleasantly. “There’s no hidden motive. If Vanessa truly acted improperly, then naturally our family should apologize properly. I’ll personally report it to the baroness.”
Cora’s lips parted soundlessly.
Vanessa had never mistreated Levin servants.
Which meant there was no servant to summon.
And even if they dragged someone in to lie, it would become disastrous if Eleanor truly informed Baroness Pomfury.
Personal disagreements were one thing.
Conflicts between noble houses were another.
Levin’s territory might be larger, but Baroness Pomfury possessed far stronger connections through her older brother, a count in the capital.
Watching the sisters unable to call a servant or respond at all, Eleanor smiled sweetly.
“If it’s difficult to summon one, then forget it. There’s no need.”
Mary visibly relaxed, believing Eleanor was showing mercy.
But Cora, far quicker to grasp the implications, stiffened coldly.
Refusing to verify the facts was effectively the same as declaring she already believed her own conclusion correct.
And unfortunately, the truth was not far from it.
“Let me say one final thing,” Eleanor continued calmly. “The people who left Oclama for Levin likely did so because they were dissatisfied with their former home. Naturally, they would harbor resentment toward us. So please don’t let the words of migrants cause you to view Vanessa unfairly.”
Her voice carried the warmth of a benevolent older sister.
It was the first time she had ever spoken like this for someone other than Lydia.
Everything Eleanor had ever done before had always been for Lydia’s sake.
…Helping someone else doesn’t feel as bad as I expected.
“Vanessa belongs to Oclama and House Pomfury,” she finished firmly. “As such, I hope you will think well of her.”
The line had been drawn completely.
Eleanor was making it unmistakably clear that she would never stand on their side.
Cora and Mary understood immediately. They bit their lower lips lightly as faint embarrassment colored their faces.
Perhaps there would be no more invitations after this.
“Let’s all get along from now on, the five of us.”
“Yes! I’d love that!”
Carol Duvar answered brightly in place of her silent older sisters.
She was the sort of cheerful, oblivious young lady rarely seen even in the capital.
The tea party with the Duvar sisters ended awkwardly.
The atmosphere had become so terrible that everyone except Carol and Eleanor looked utterly exhausted.
Eleanor personally would not have minded staying longer, but after seeing the sisters’ expressions, she rose without complaint.
Inside the carriage returning to Oclama, Vanessa remained silent.
Still, the complicated expression on her face spoke volumes.
She finally opened her mouth only after they returned to the castle and stepped out of the carriage.
“Thank you for helping me today, Miss.”
Standing with both hands folded neatly before her, Vanessa appeared perfectly respectful.
Yet her scarlet eyes gleamed with a strange coldness that made her obedience feel anything but sincere.
“Mm.”
Eleanor accepted the gratitude simply.
She could have said more.
She chose not to.
Vanessa’s fingers twitched slightly.
Though her face remained expressionless, she seemed to be wrestling internally with something.
“…If I may add something.”
At last, it seemed her desire to speak overcame her restraint.
“Next time, please don’t defend me.”
“Why?”
“It would benefit your position more.”
Eleanor did not consider it insolent for a sponsored orphan to offer advice to a noble lady.
At least, not unless Vanessa was looking down on her.
“The nobles of the capital may avoid openly discriminating against commoners because of their strong aristocratic pride. But rural nobles are conservative and trapped in old-fashioned thinking. They’re completely different.”
Apparently, however, this sponsored orphan viewed Eleanor as some delicate flower raised safely inside the greenhouse of the capital.
“You don’t need to help me like you did in Levin. It would be better for you to think about your own future—”
“Vanessa.”
Eleanor interrupted softly.
“I didn’t help you. I helped my aunt, the woman who took you in.”
“….”
“And do you not realize your reputation reflects directly upon hers?”
Vanessa’s cheeks flushed faintly.
Whether from embarrassment at her misunderstanding or from the rebuke itself, Eleanor could not tell.
“And the nobles of the capital are nowhere near as progressive as you imagine. They’re far more insidious and far more meticulous in preserving outdated traditions.”
There were always people like this.
People who assumed capital nobles must naturally be more enlightened.
But that was merely an illusion.
Capital aristocrats were colder, more calculating, and obsessed with dividing even nobles among ranks.
If anyone doubted how conservative they truly were, they only needed to look at Eleanor herself—tormented endlessly because three broken engagements had stained her reputation as a noble lady.
The capital and the provinces were different only in appearance.
At their core, both were equally conservative.
At least, that was how Eleanor saw it.
“So don’t assume you understand everything based only on your own experiences and try to lecture others.”
Vanessa bit her lip and lowered her head, clearly wounded in pride.
Looking down at the reddened ears peeking through orange hair, Eleanor asked half impulsively,
“Let me ask you one thing. Do you dislike me?”
Vanessa looked up sharply, frowning before she could stop herself.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because I don’t understand.”
Brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder, Eleanor answered calmly.
From the moment they first met, Vanessa had clearly disliked her.
If they had met before, Eleanor could at least understand.
But why dislike her at first sight?
It wasn’t as though Eleanor looked frightening.
Nor had she behaved rudely.
Is it because I’m Lydia’s sister?
But you’ve never even met Lydia.
This was Eleanor’s first meeting with Vanessa as well, much less Lydia’s.
The timing simply never overlapped. Vanessa had arrived in Oclama during the same years the sisters rarely visited.
Then why?
Why hate me?
“I do not dislike you, Miss.”
Vanessa curved her lips into a smooth smile.
Liar.
Eleanor nearly laughed aloud.
It was the exact same smile Eleanor herself often wore when lying.
And though Vanessa smiled politely, her eyes remained cold.
“Please don’t misunderstand. I apologize for my presumptuous advice. I’ll take my leave now.”
Eleanor did not stop her as she turned away.
If Vanessa insisted otherwise, there was little Eleanor could do.
Even so, an odd frustration lingered in her chest, and she found herself almost laughing at her own reaction.
The very tactics Eleanor had learned to survive in Bayrn now irritated her when she saw someone else using them in Oclama.
Still, Vanessa had not crossed any lines, so Eleanor could do nothing more.
Unless the girl suddenly lost control and shouted her true feelings aloud.
Shaking her head, Eleanor returned to her room with Lisa.
At the time, she still had no idea.
This petty exchange—barely worthy of being called an argument—would become the beginning of a faction war within the castle.
