Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

The brim of the hat was pulled down slightly.

"It's my turn to take charge."

Chapter Thirty-Five: After You've Finished Singing

Ridicule, disgust, mockery, humiliation...

Amidst laughter and chatter, they hurled insults; amidst clinking glasses and exchanging jests, when the brown-haired girl fell to the ground, when the superior gaze looked down with mockery, all the sharp and sarcastic words came rushing at her.

Bruised marks lay on his ankles, and accumulated dust stained his clothes.

That was a beautiful gown she could only dream of wearing, one she couldn't bear to part with, but now, just like herself, it had fallen into the mud, like a lowly duckling born to be lowly.

The courage she had just mustered vanished in an instant. Winnie looked around helplessly, instinctively trying to avoid those sharp gazes, but the noble ladies, Leona Bathory, and others were all there, everywhere.

Clearly, these words were not even insults. Clearly, she had heard far more filthy and obscene words, but why couldn't she lift her head, why couldn't she stand up straight, to say no to them, to deny them?

Was it because he overestimated his abilities to participate in the test? Was it because he was not qualified to come to this courtyard? Or was it because nobles were born to be above him, so he couldn't muster any courage and couldn't suppress the fear in his heart?

Her mind kept replaying the silver-haired girl's words and actions, recalling her dashing and composed figure. She wanted to imitate her, but she couldn't lift her knees no matter what she did.

I'm sorry, Miss Watson, I'm sorry, Mother, I still haven't done anything...

Unable to escape the gazes from all directions, the shrill and noisy shrill voice grew even louder as she lowered her head.

As a result, his pupils gradually dilated, the light faded, and even his clenched fists gradually loosened.

Watery eyes welled up, tears welled up at the corners of their eyes, waiting to slide down their cheeks and fall to the ground.

Just then, a pair of high-top leather boots came into her lowered gaze.

It feels so familiar, so close, as if it's within reach.

Looking up, one sees a tall, upright figure wrapped tightly in a trench coat, and eyes that are clear, bright, and unobstructed.

A hand, a slender hand, gripping her rough knuckles, slowly pulled her out of the mire, bringing with it boisterous laughter and the whirlpool of cowardice.

"Tears should be shed for those who deserve them, and you have made an attempt and taken the first step."

Ignoring the astonishment of others, Charlotte exhaled softly and reached out her fingertips to brush the dust from her little bird's hair, seemingly oblivious to everyone around her.

"Watson..."

With tears still glistening in her eyes, Winnie called out instinctively.

She watched as the person she longed to become walked from afar to near, gently pulling her out of danger and whispering words of encouragement in her ear. Joy filled her heart uncontrollably, but so did worry and anxiety. She worried about dragging down Watson, who was already an outstanding aristocrat, and was anxious that the young ladies would take their anger out on her because of this.

What a silly, clueless girl, just like the goose. Although her appearance on stage didn't go as expected, it's still a good opportunity to meet Miss Leona.

With one arm pressed to his chest and his body slightly leaning forward, he lacked humility but was still polite, more like a gentleman's calm greeting than a lady.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Bathory, and nice to meet you ladies."

After this brief bow, her upright posture straightened again, like a towering pine tree reaching for the clouds. Charlotte's voice was not warm, but calm as still water.

“My name is Josephine, a stranger from the Duchy of Plantagenet, and a friend of this lady whom I met on the road. Although we have only met once, neither my conscience nor my compassion as a lady would allow me to stand idly by and watch my friend suffer humiliation.”

With elegant demeanor, appropriate speech, and unique yet fitting attire, she exudes a cool and androgynous charm that surpasses all others without needing any embellishment.

The boisterous laughter gradually subsided. Charlotte's voice wasn't loud, but when it reached everyone's ears, everyone spontaneously held their breath, making the rooftop so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Unable to ignore that striking figure, unable to forget that stern voice, the noble ladies might not dare to ask questions, but they all secretly glanced at Leona, who was in the lead, as if hoping for her approval.

"...You mean humiliation?"

Crossing her legs, just as others expected, Leona raised her voice, saying nothing more than a question.

"Of course, it may not be you, or her, but there are always people who insulted that girl first, and she just tripped and fell, feeling ashamed and uneasy, yet she has to face all the insults and ridicule."

"This seems completely at odds with the praise on the invitation; it is neither appropriate nor elegant."

Charlotte's gaze swept over the faces, her eyes fixed on them without flinching, as if she were blaming everyone involved.

Most of the noble ladies looked away from her gaze, unable to deny that they were among the perpetrators.

"Ah."

With a furrowed brow, the host of the tea party was somewhat displeased, both by the girl's composure and by her questioning words.

No one has ever dared to be so nonchalant at the tea party, secretly pointing the finger at themselves.

"Because she was just like any other poor girl I'd ever met—clumsy and awkward, just as old-fashioned and funny. It made no difference whether she was a noble or not."

Raising her neck and looking directly at the girl, Leona displayed an undisguised arrogance, as if stating a self-evident reason, as if provoking that this was all there was to it.

The arrogant tone reached her ears, and the bird girl, who was originally covered in dust, silently clenched her fists, her nails digging into her flesh, from which thin streams of blood seeped out.

Just because of this, because of this absurd reason, can one disregard the dignity of others and wantonly belittle a person?

She once wanted to prove that through hard work, she could also become the person those people admired, bringing a rich and happy life to her family. But now, she has a new understanding: the existence of nobility is a mistake in itself.

"So, because this girl is impolite and doesn't meet your standards, you tacitly approved of or even actively provoked this humiliation, is that right?"

Without uttering a sound, Leona opened her eyes wide, her gaze revealing a fierce glint—a threat.

However, that had no effect on Charlotte; nothing in this world could hold her back, not even a little bit.

The girl possessed neither so-called family and friends, nor wealth and power; all she had was a fleeting life and a reckless heart.

"Indeed, as Leona Bathory, you are of noble birth, talented, elegant and generous, and in terms of character, you are more than the best among the countless noble ladies in Tingen."

"Is this something to be proud of? Absolutely."

She answered her own question, and after speaking, she smiled slightly, her eyes sparkling with charm, like a cabbage in full bloom.

"Whether it's luck, hard work, or talent, or something passed down from ancestors and accumulated over generations, it doesn't matter how you get it. After all, the world is inherently unfair. From birth to death, there is no place that can be considered completely fair. When you stand at a high place, it seems that you can take it for granted to show off everything you have to others, laugh at their poverty and ignorance, and enjoy those envious and jealous looks."

“Ms. Bathory, you were born surrounded by these things, so I can understand when you condone your contempt for that girl. After all, belittling others and elevating oneself is an inevitable way to entertain oneself under the influence of the environment, and you certainly have the right to despise that girl, and even all the ladies at the tea party. Because everyone knows that they are far inferior to you.”

Gradually, some girls raised their heads, their faces filled with resentment and a burning desire to ignite their long-suppressed discontent.

"Of course, I can understand, but that doesn't mean I agree with it."

Charlotte casually peeled off the sealing wax as she took the invitation from her pocket, as if they were perfectly aware of each other's thoughts.

Indeed, this was the case. This young lady was completely unable to hide her thoughts. Even though she spoke humbly, the cold arrogance in her eyes never faded in the slightest, and that was enough to meet the girl's expectations.

— Leveraging existing trends.

“I can understand your contempt for me, her, and them. Differences in wealth, knowledge, and taste will always be categorized into different classes. Discrimination is not uncommon. But there is one thing that is always placed in the middle of the scales—abandoning external mediocrity and physical weakness, we, as human beings, are all equally valued.”

"So, Leona Bathory, why do you mock a girl... no, a person's momentary shyness, for all of her? Why do you look down on her, look down on them, look down on all girls who uphold elegance and independence because of your own prejudices?"

The clean letter slipped from the girl's fingers, fluttering crookedly several times before landing in front of everyone, revealing the first line of the letter.

—Dedicated to all women who uphold elegance and remain steadfastly independent.

The words on paper, written in black and white, seem like a joke.

Chapter Thirty-Six: Ugliness Revealed

No further words are needed; a glance around reveals a silence so profound you could hear a pin drop.

The place was completely silent, as if all sounds were still. Even the rustling of cabbages being stirred by the cold wind and then waving their branches could be faintly heard.

The letters praising virtues fell to the ground, mingling with the dust, seemingly worthless, and all the girls tacitly chose to remain silent.

They looked at Charlotte, and then at Leona, as if making a silent comparison in their hearts.

As visual creatures, a good and appropriate image is often the cornerstone of human judgment. Compared to the heavily made-up, arrogant countess, this graceful figure standing like a pine tree is undoubtedly more suitable for the beginning of a letter.

That is, a woman who is elegant, steadfast, and independent.

Moreover, everyone had heard her previous remarks clearly. The organizer of the tea party, Leona Bathory, the leader of the nobility, had never taken them seriously; she regarded them as no different from the poor commoners.

Everyone has emotions. Even due to the generational difference in status, all the girls would choose to tolerate and flatter, for fear of offending the former and losing power in Tingen. But this never means that there is no resentment or anger in their hearts.

In the past, no one was willing to take the lead and provoke such disrespect. But now, as this silver-haired girl stands on the stage for the first time, rightfully and legitimately pointing out the situation, causing ripples, the hidden fire in her heart seeps out bit by bit.

It was obvious to the naked eye that the count's daughter looked around somewhat stiffly, glancing at the noble ladies who used to fawn over her and flatter her.

Their gazes may not have contained any suspicion or distrust towards Leona, but in the silence of the moment, Leona felt as if these gazes were urging her on, forcing her to make a choice.

How could a proud, wealthy, and privileged nobleman tolerate this?

Why? What gives you the right to look at me like that? What right do you have to dictate my judgment? I am Leona Bathory!

Slowly propping herself up, Leona revealed the fierce glint in her eyes, like a lioness ready to devour her prey. She glared to her side, then to the person in front of her, and finally to the tall, elegant silver-haired girl.

"Since you know that you are no match for me in terms of wealth, knowledge, or taste, you still dare to question me here?"

Seeing the former's face flush with anger, Charlotte remained calm and spoke again.

“Miss Leona, I never questioned anything. You come from a privileged background, are exceptionally talented, and have a magnanimous nature. I was simply stating the facts I saw.”

"I have seen the fragrance of money bend the spine, the power of authority lower the legs, and the resources of production choke the tongue."

The explicit words were like the crashing tide, gradually eroding the former's defenses and causing anger to surge back.

"How dare you mock me in a place like this? This is Tingen!"

Is this a threat?

The corners of her lips turned up slightly, outlining a pleasing, shallow curve.

“Miss Leona, as I have said before, I come from across the ocean and am only here in this seaside city for a short stay of one month.”

In other words, she was all alone and had no relatives or friends to threaten or manipulate.

"You, you! Your name is Josephine, right!"

Enraged by this nonchalant attitude, Leona drew her short whip from her waist and immediately lashed it at the figure, completely disregarding the narrowness of the rooftop and the people sitting there.

Snapped--

A muffled sound rang out, and the short whip landed on the girl's shoulder as promised, as if it had also landed on each other's hearts.

“Miss Leona, how I wish you were as magnanimous as those newspapers portray you to be. I can understand my offense and rudeness towards you, but why do you have to involve innocent bystanders and hurt these young women?”

She wiped her shoulders, as if brushing away the dust of misfortune, and calmly raised her eyes to look at the upper-class girls around her.

Most of them were beautiful, with exquisite makeup and luxurious clothing, and were elegant nobles admired by everyone.

Just minutes ago, these girls were chatting happily here with reserved manners, flattering the predecessor who wielded the whip. But now, they were mostly pale-faced. Wherever Leona glanced, they would lower their heads to avoid her gaze. Some of them even looked at Charlotte with a hint of pity and admiration.

Very good, that's enough. The brilliance of a drama always needs some build-up. Her monologue has ended, and it's time to reach the climax.

Miss Bathory, perhaps you wish to turn the tea party into a one-man show, but I will not grant your wish. I will make you tear off that grand mask yourself and expose your hesitant nature to the world.

Let me see if you will swallow your pride to maintain your image, or if you will disregard public opinion in order to rise to a higher position.

Just like you said, let's start by collecting some interest from here.

“To be honest, Miss Leona, you have disappointed me. I thought I was invited to the tea party as a guest from afar, but it seems that is not the case.”

Charlotte lifted her fingertips, playing with the stray hairs hanging by her ears, and said loudly, feigning ignorance.

"It seems that, apart from me being a newcomer, every lady has tacitly accepted that kind of atmosphere, which confuses me, after all—"

"shut up!"

His brown eyes seemed to spit fire, and Leona had taken his repeated words as a provocation.

The whip cleaved through the air again with a muffled crack, but the girl merely turned her shoulder slightly, and it swept past her hair, landing on the nearby table and smashing the plates to pieces, eliciting a scream.

Just as Charlotte thought, this rich girl was nothing more than a spoiled child who was unwilling to accept even the slightest setback.

So, naturally, he spoke in a deep voice.

"It seems that not only my friend, but you also share the same view of me and these girls. Have you never considered us as part of the tea party?"

"Is it because of this that you punish and ridicule those girls who accepted the invitation and came in high spirits to chat and laugh over a little lapse in composure?"

Such a question, though calm and unassuming, resonated deeply, drawing the attention of everyone. When she met Charlotte's clear grey eyes, it was as if a captivating sword pierced Leona's heart, rendering her speechless.

This method wasn't particularly sophisticated; it simply revealed the truth, binding Winnie, himself, and everyone present together, and bringing the most obvious facts into the open.

—Leonardo Bathory, do you discriminate against an ordinary, eccentric girl simply because of her family background and talent, despise those who are inferior to you in some way, or have some shortcomings?

Do you still see me, and us, as the most basic people, as the lady described on that invitation, the one who upholds elegance, steadfastness, and independence?

If it is denied, then the tea party is meaningless, merely a product of flaunting authority and self-amusement; if it is affirmed, it means the former has yielded, meaning a loss of dignity, and future attendees will be constrained by this public approval and will no longer be able to act recklessly or ridicule others.

Perhaps this won't change the nature of the aristocratic circle, and it will soon return to its former normalcy. However, the answer given in front of everyone will become a fait accompli, a wound that will never heal, and will be used and borrowed by those who come after.