The doors swept open, and a woman stepped boldly into the ballroom.
She walked with an elegant yet carefree stride, her tight-fitting dress highlighting her slender frame. She brushed her long pink hair over her shoulder, her red eyes scanning the room with a cold, almost bored indifference.
The room went silent. Charlize Altsbeit had arrived.
Her lips twisted into a small, sharp smile. "What is this?" she murmured, her voice carrying easily through the sudden quiet. "The interior of this place... it smells of rot."
The crowd parted before her like the Red Sea. Every eye in the room turned toward the hostess, the Countess Rotaria.
The Countess, who had been holding court with all the arrogance of a duchess in Charlize’s absence, suddenly seemed to shrink. The person she’d been gleefully mocking only moments ago was now standing right in front of her, more beautiful and intimidating than ever.
But as a founding member of the Gaemang Club, her retreat was short-lived. She raised her head, a mask of practiced politeness firmly in place.
"Welcome, Princess. It’s been quite some time," the Countess said, dipping into a shallow curtsy.
Charlize didn't answer. She just stood there, arms crossed, staring at the Countess with an arrogant, unblinking gaze.
The Countess trembled. Had Charlize always been this beautiful? She seemed to have lost weight, her features sharper and more mature than before.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Charlize asked, her lips curving upward. "Is there something on my face, or have you just never seen a real noble before?"
"I... I beg your pardon?"
* * *
The Countess Rotaria’s face soured. I didn't care.
'They say the most entertaining thing to do in isolation is to watch these idiots play at being high society,' I thought.
The Gaemang Club wasn't called the "Damned Club" for nothing. There was no loyalty here, no friendship. Only a collective thirst for the latest scandal. Yesterday’s best friend was today’s lunch, served up on a silver platter of gossip.
'It’s like a human version of social media... all performance and no substance,' I mused as I followed the Countess to the "best" seat in the house.
I looked around the ballroom as I walked. 'Wow. How much gold did you waste on this gilding?' I wondered. The Rotaria family were fabulously wealthy parvenus, but they could never quite shake the label of "nouveau riche." Every surface was covered in jewels and gold leaf, a desperate attempt to buy the dignity their title lacked.
'And I can feel the eyes on me already.'
The Imperial banquet had been a place of formal dignity, but this? This was different. The gazes here were blatant, hungry, and far more vulgar.
I’d attended plenty of small parties since waking up in Charlize’s body, but I still wasn't used to this kind of attention.
'Are your eyes dirty, or are you just that greedy?' I wondered, meeting the gaze of a man sitting near the center of the room. He didn't even have the decency to look away. He was openly scanning me, his eyes full of a base, filthy desire.
'Loxdian... Terry. I think it’s time to start the show.'
"Here is your seat, Princess," the Countess said, guiding me to a chair not far from the man who was staring.
I didn't recognize him. 'The old Charlize only remembered handsome men, especially ones on Askin’s level,' I realized. And since there weren't many men who could match Askin or Loxdian in the looks department, this guy was clearly beneath her notice.
His gaze became even more shameless as I approached.
"Ah, Princess! Allow me to introduce my fiancé, Geren Arus, the son of Viscount Arus," the Countess said.
"Princess," Geren said, his voice oily. "It is a great honor to have you in my presence. I’ve admired you from afar, but up close... you are truly a masterpiece."
I felt a brief flash of pity for the Countess. Her fiancé was busy undressing me with his eyes while she stood right there. I stopped before sitting down, realizing he was trying to catch a glimpse of my legs as I adjusted my dress.
I didn't sit. I ignored his greeting entirely.
"Cover it," I said, looking at a nearby attendant.
The attendant scrambled to bring a fresh silk cloth to cover the chair. I only sat once the original fabric was completely hidden.
The crowd watched, whispering. To them, this was just classic Charlize behavior—picky, arrogant, and impossibly high-maintenance.
"Princess, it’s been so long!"
"The capital was so boring without you!"
"Did you change your skincare routine? You look even more stunning than before!"
A group of younger ladies—the "rebel group" within the club—rushed over as soon as I was settled. I looked at their familiar, fawning faces and smiled.
"Well," I said smoothly. "Instead of just passing the time, I found a new way to enhance my beauty."
"Really? What is it?"
'Heartbreak and a brush with death,' I thought. 'It’s a great way to lose weight and sharpen your features.'
I put my chin in my hand and scanned the room. Everyone flinched when my gaze hit them.
'The rumors are definitely circulating,' I realized.
The Countess Rotaria returned, followed by an attendant carrying a tray. She was smiling broadly.
"Princess, we’ve prepared a special treat for you today. My fiancé, Master Arus, gave me an incredibly expensive imported wine just for this occasion."
I looked at the tray, then back at the Countess. My gaze was cold enough to draw blood. The attendant hesitated and pulled the tray back.
I raised a hand, signaling my own knights. "Countess, if you were so worried about the cost of the wine, you shouldn't have thrown a party in the first place."
My knights stepped forward, carrying a bottle of their own. A murmur went through the crowd as people recognized the label. It was a vintage so rare and expensive that it cost more than a chest full of gold coins.
'I had the contents swapped, though,' I thought. 'Charlize’s body can't handle real alcohol anymore, so I’m drinking grape juice. Noah was surprisingly helpful in getting it for me.'
My knight poured the juice into a crystal glass. The guests nearby didn't even try to hide their whispers.
"...As expected of the Altsbeit family. Even the Rotaria fortune can't compare."
"That bottle alone is worth more than most of us make in a year."
"You can't even buy that wine without a high-ranking title. The guild only sells it to the elite."
"I’d kill for just a sip..."
I took a slow sip of my "wine." It wasn't particularly refreshing, but watching the Countess Rotaria’s face turn a deep, humiliated red was.
'Grandpa’s money is good for something, at least,' I thought.
I rolled my eyes, remembering Loxdian’s confident voice from the night before.
*That old man won't even bat an eye if you just "act" a little. You have to feed his anger properly. Your "elder brother" has a very good idea.*
The Countess Rotaria was now blushing with shame and anger, her attempt to show off her fiancé’s gift completely derailed. The show had officially begun.