Chapter 14

Chapter : 14

Bishot lacked social grace, and she was indifferent to the eyes of those around her.

And that made her perfectly suited to become a target.

Whenever people gathered and formed a group, ranks emerged within it. That was natural, and it was an unavoidable current. In those hierarchies, high and low were decided in various ways. Birth, social ties with other students, and many other things all played a part.

Foolishly, Bishot had tried to ignore that.

Trusting in the Academy’s educational ideal of offering learning open to all, she kept her head stiffly raised.

Everyone around her knew that her house had fallen.

Everyone knew that her circle of friends was narrow.

And it was an open fact that Navier, who stood at the very top of that social ladder, looked upon Bishot with ill will.

Her place in that hierarchy was close to rock bottom.

And yet, even so, she did not approach young ladies of higher standing first to greet them, nor did she yield the front seats in class. Even when their eyes met, she kept her chin raised stiffly, and her gaze looked proud.

A great many of the young ladies who attended the Academy treated it as a social venue for seeking out a marriage partner.

After all, it was an easier road to marry someone who would succeed than to learn and achieve success oneself.

For them, finding a suitable man was closer to their real purpose than study.

That was why Bishot was perfectly suited to become a public enemy.

From a man’s point of view, she was as attractive a prospective bride as one could possibly imagine.

Bishot earned the resentment of those around her for all manner of reasons.

There were already many students prepared to move if only someone would give them a push.

In the midst of that, Navier made her decision.

Before Bishot could catch the Crown Prince’s eye, she had to be driven out of the Academy.

That was the path by which Navier herself would become Crown Princess.

It was the kind of thing she hated doing, the sort of act she normally despised, but Navier steeled herself.

The Crown Prince was known to be fond of women.

Any noble with ears in high society had heard that rumor at least once.

There were even lurid stories that he changed women by the day, but unlike those vulgar rumors, his taste in women was unexpectedly exacting.

His standards were extraordinarily high.

He did not so much as glance at most noble ladies, and in such a situation, Navier was convinced that if a woman’s outward appearance was sufficient, then birth alone would not prevent her from being chosen as Crown Princess.

And then she met Bishot.

More precisely, she only glimpsed her in passing from a distance.

The moment after that, Navier turned her body and looked again at Bishot’s face.

And wondered whether she had truly seen correctly.

Bishot was more beautiful than anyone Navier had ever seen.

Beautiful enough that if the Crown Prince found her, he might confess his love at once.

To escape that sudden crisis, Navier intended to step in only once.

Taking the lead in tormenting someone would clearly damage her own reputation.

So it would be enough for her to approach Bishot first and openly show malice. If she moved first, the rest of the forces around her would follow.

“There is such a thing as manners between people. Why are you ignoring me? The Academy is still part of the Empire, is it not? Then why do you disregard rank? Why do you pretend not to see me even after our eyes meet? I can only take that as an insult.”

“That was not my intention.”

“No, I am sure it was not. But is that really the important point here? If I were you, I would have apologized first. Not made excuses. We are fellow students, and yet do I truly have to teach you even this?”

“I am sorry.”

Navier smiled.

Not the smile she had practiced in order to leave a favorable first impression, but a mocking smile meant to make the other person uncomfortable.

“And that is all?”

Tilting her head to the right, Navier smiled more deeply.

Even without a mirror, she always knew exactly what expression she was making. That was because she had studied how to convey emotion in the most precise way possible.

She smiled with deliberate malice.

“And that is all?”

Bishot closed her mouth.

Navier was not speaking in order to teach her a lesson or educate her.

She was picking a fight.

No matter what she said, Navier would seize on the end of it and continue tormenting her.

“I am sorry.”

Then lower your head.

Kill your pride and hope the situation will end.

Rebuking herself, Bishot spoke words she did not mean.

At Bishot’s answer, Navier narrowed the corners of her eyes. Leaning close to Bishot’s face, she said,

“I did not ask in order to hear that you were sorry. Answering me like that means you simply do not wish to answer what I said, does it not? How rude.”

“That is not what I meant. I—”

Navier cut her off.

“Did I not tell you that you should apologize first, rather than begin with excuses? Surely you have not forgotten that already…”

Tsk.

Clicking her tongue, Navier continued,

“So you are insulting me again. How painful.”

Bishot hesitated.

Should she say she was sorry?

Should she insist that she had meant nothing by it?

No.

In truth, she already knew the answer.

Both answers were wrong.

No matter what she said, Navier would cry that it was not enough and continue harassing her.

That was when Raphael stepped between them.

“I have been watching for a while now, and this is getting a little excessive. She seems sorry, so how about you stop here?”

The timing was perfect.

He stepped in to stop Navier Loveone and asked her to stop.

Navier’s face twisted.

Only then did she understand why Raphael had stubbornly refused her proposal.

What Raphael wanted was not Bishot’s unhappiness, but Bishot’s heart.

There had been no need for him to join hands with Navier and plan things together.

By contrast, Bishot clenched her fist without even realizing it.

Navier’s attack had been far too sudden.

She had been aware that several young ladies disliked her, but Navier had not been among them. There had been no emotion at all in Navier’s gaze when she looked at her.

The suddenness of Navier’s attack had baffled Bishot, but now she had found the cause.

This too had surely been instigated by Raphael.

Once again, he had begun pressing down on her and driving her toward tragedy.

Bishot felt heat rise from deep within.

Why was I always the one who had to endure this?

She felt as though tears might well up again from sheer injustice.

But she endured them.

To cry felt too much like admitting defeat to something.

Forcing the swelling rage deep down to the bottom, Bishot spoke.

“It is all right.”

Keeping her gaze on Raphael, Bishot continued,

“This is a matter between Lady Navier and me. There is no need for you to involve yourself.”

In Bishot’s eyes there was a fierce resolve that said, I will accept no help from you.

Then, as though she had made up her mind about something, she took one step forward.

She thought that she no longer wanted to live like this.

Whatever might happen later, she wanted to act as she truly wished, just this once.

“Lord Raphael, please stop. It is enough now.”

Staring straight at Raphael, Bishot said,

“I hate you. No matter what happens, that feeling will never change. I swear it here. I, Bishot Puremoon, will hate you for the rest of my life. And that vow will never change.”

Navier opened her mouth as though to say something, then closed it again and only blinked.

'What is wrong with her?'

Unable to understand what was happening, she merely swallowed.

He was helping her, so why?

One question bred another.

And just like that, the uproar came to an end.

Navier returned to her quarters.

---

Before going to bed, she checked the list of young ladies around her whose birthdays were approaching and carefully reread the notebook in which she had organized all their preferences.

Only after memorizing all sorts of information until late into the night did she finally go to sleep.

Navier Loveone began her day earlier than most noble young ladies.

Every morning, she rose a full two hours before the others, washed her long hair that fell all the way to her hips, and dried it.

After that, while her hair was being arranged, her nails and toenails were trimmed, and powder was applied to her skin.

Sometimes, when she sat there blankly receiving all manner of grooming like one of those dress-up dolls that children of all ages played with in infancy, she felt an urge to smash everything.

She wanted to throw the great mirror reflecting her face to the floor and shatter it.

She wanted to crush the cosmetics to pieces.

Sometimes that anger extended even to her own hair and skin. She wanted to grab her hair at random and hack it off with scissors, or drag a blade across her skin.

Of course, Navier knew those emotions were no more than momentary impulses.

She knew that if she actually did such things, she would regret them immediately afterward.

It simply meant she was dissatisfied.

She disliked the situation she was in now.

Still damp from washing, she stared at herself in the mirror.

'Is this not enough?'

She was already beautiful enough that anyone would admire her.

So what was the point of grooming herself more, more, more?

Her uselessly long, glossy hair was nothing but cumbersome. The thin body she had produced through an extreme diet sometimes felt as though its joints creaked.

Wherever the lavish fabrics and the countless ornaments she wore like fruit hanging from a tree brushed against her skin, it felt as though insects were crawling over her.

And yet Navier drove herself forward relentlessly, insisting that she had to be beautiful always and everywhere.

Because that was all she had.

Born without a single real talent to call her own, there was only one thing she could do for the sake of restoring her family: submit to a political marriage, or secure a husband even grander than that.

That was the worth her mother had assigned to her.

Every day Navier lamented, 'If only I had been born a slightly better person, I would not be treated like this.'

But it was nothing more than a meaningless fantasy.

It was already certain that she herself was utter incompetence, and her best option was to complete a marriage safely without letting that show.

And at the Academy, her target was the Crown Prince of the Empire.

Her family placed silent pressure on her, expecting that before she graduated from the Academy, she would secure a promise of betrothal from the Crown Prince.

'Why was I born so stupid?'

She made mistakes several times a day.

Sometimes she used the utensils in the wrong order.

Sometimes she failed to respond appropriately to the words of girls her own age.

Sometimes she wore clothes or ornaments unsuited to the occasion.

She treated servants with more familiarity than she ought to have, and even forgave their mistakes.

Whenever she made such errors, she was reminded that her mother’s judgment, that she was good for nothing, had been exactly correct.

Navier was expected to cast aside her desires.

As the daughter of a wealthy marquis house, she received flattery and gifts from countless people, and from time to time there were things she liked especially well. Gems or dolls that suited her taste perfectly were among them.

Her mother threw them away.

Her mother said they would become her weakness.

Whenever Navier grew attached to something, she felt as though it would surely be taken from her.

That was why her life was always so precarious and full of anxiety.

Navier wanted desperately to escape from this place.