Living Up to Your Expectations - Chapter 5

“I’ll come pick you up once you’ve returned home.”

Lord Elliot’s gentle voice was irritating today.

“…What about everyone else?”

I couldn’t help but ask back, and Lord Elliot smiled faintly as he answered.

“They’re going back to change, but I’ll pick everyone up, and we’ll all come get you.”

His amber eyes narrowed slightly, and the corners of his mouth lifted. It was a smile that seemed to be enjoying this, just that kind of smile.

“Yes, I understand.”

As the carriage rocked on the way home, I turned my gaze out the window. With each steady rhythm of the hooves, waves of thought quietly filled my chest.

What could Lady Olivia possibly intend by inviting me?

Even though until now she never gave me a second glance.

Even when we passed each other at the academy, she never once spoke to me. Even when she saw me getting along with Lord Elliot, she was cold, indifferent; treating me as if I didn’t even exist.

And yet, she invites me to her home. What is she plotting? Is she panicking because graduation is near? Does she want to intimidate me, or has she come to warn me off?

Hehe, but so what? It’s too late now.

At first, I thought it would be a bother, but actually, it’s a godsend.

Today, I’ll shine on the stage you’ve prepared.

If you’re offering me the stage to show “I’m the one who’s loved” then I’ll gratefully make use of it. I’ll let you see with your own eyes the reality that “your fiancé is neglecting you.”

I wonder what expression you’ll make when you see me standing beside Lord Elliot and the others. Me, smiling and leaning close, being escorted by him.

And in contrast, what about you? Days without a single smile directed at you, no gifts given, only cold words thrown your way.

Isn’t that miserable?

Hehe… Just thinking about it makes me want to laugh.

Arriving at the mansion and returning to my room, I look at myself in the mirror. Honey-brown hair, ultramarine eyes. I’m not tall, but my petite build is often called “adorable.”

It’s just what others choose to say. But how I use that is up to me, isn’t it?

I’m not the “legitimate wife’s daughter.” My mother was Father’s mistress. Only after Father’s wife passed away were Mother and I finally taken into this house.

Until then, I was raised in a corner of the common streets. Coarse, rough men, adults twisted by desire and ulterior motives. In a place like that, I dreamed of the day I’d be treated as a “noble’s daughter.”

But I was only taken in right before entering the academy. At first, attending the academy was nothing but a hassle. A life full of etiquette and rules, a boring world of hollow pretenses.

But then I met them.

Young masters who looked like they’d stepped right out of a painting, far beyond anything I’d ever imagined.

Perfect features. Elegant manners. Sweet voices. They were nothing like those coarse men. I could hardly believe they were the same gender.

That’s when I realized.

This isn’t a fairy tale. Entering the noble world and eventually winning love, that plotline I’d read in romance novels hundreds of times was beginning to overlap with my reality.

And so, I set my sights.

Lord Elliot.

The eldest son of a marquis house, the object of young ladies’ admiration. With his handsome looks and noble bearing standing beside him should naturally be me.

The next marchioness, that’s the future I envision.

After entering the academy, there were voices that looked down on me as “a girl from the common streets.” But I didn’t give up. I knew how to charm, and I didn’t spare any effort.

Gradually, those around me changed. Young ladies who smiled and said, “You two look good together.” And Lord Elliot himself began choosing to spend time with me over the cold Lady Olivia.

Just one more step. Just a little more, and he’ll be mine.

To make that happen, we need an annulment where Lady Olivia is at fault. So, little by little, I spread “words” among those around us. That Lady Olivia broke academy rules, that she looks down on her maids, that she leads Lord Elliot around by the nose.

It’s enough if someone thinks they “might have seen it.” Memories are vague and easily clouded. People’s impressions change like the air.

Noble society moves on such uncertain “hints,” you know.

Do you really think the ducal house can keep protecting such a “rumor-ridden young lady”?

Hehe, impossible. At best, she’ll end up in a convent.

Now, I’ll show you.

Who is truly chosen? Look at me standing beside Lord Elliot with those clear, composed eyes of yours.

And understand that you’re finished.

That the tea party you invited me to will be your downfall, how ironic. It’s the punishment for resting on your laurels as his “fiancée” all this time.

＊＊＊＊＊

“Bring that blue-purple dress.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The dress Lord Elliot gave me.

A deep purple, as if his eyes had been woven directly into the silk, a color wavering between blue and black. Normally, it’s a piece to be treasured and stored away. But today is worthy of wearing it.

I offer my hands to the maids and sit quietly before the mirror.

“My hair, softly but tidy any stray strands. Loose and elegant.”

“Understood.”

My silk-soft hair is slowly combed through by their fingers. Gathered into a gentle updo, with little lace flower ornaments softly added.

In the mirror, a princess who seems to have stepped out of a picture book. That’s the image taking shape.

“It suits you perfectly, my lady. You look just like an angel.”

“Hehe, thank you. Next, the jewelry box.”

If I don’t leave an unforgettable impression on Lady Clarice and Lady Carla, it’s meaningless.

“I’ll wear this one and this one.”

“…This one and this one, my lady?”

“Yes. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

If even one thing is missing, my perfect “entrance” will be ruined. I’m the leading actress on this stage. Everything must be flawless, of course.

“Hurry. There’s no time, quickly!”

“Y-yes, my lady!”

Just then, a voice comes from the hallway.

“My lady, your escort has arrived.”

Hurrying to the entrance, I find the beautiful young masters waiting.

“Hey, Allie. That dress looks great on you.”

“The jewels in your earrings can’t compete with your radiance.”

“That necklace looks lovely against your skin.”

—See? Just as planned.

Hehe, perfect.

“Oh, thank you. You’re all so kind.”

I smile. Elegantly, modestly, but proudly.

Now then, Lady Olivia.

I’ll take my time observing how that perfect mask of yours slowly, surely, cracks.

Wait with bated breath. This is the “true opening” of the tea party you’ve thrown.

On this day of all days, from the bottom of your heart.

I hope you come to regret it.