Chapter 13 The Plot Twist of Generosity
The silence in the rose garden was heavy enough to choke me. That stupid fermented grape smell was already soaking through my corset, and god, it itched like hell. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. They just stood there staring like I'd just blown myself up in the middle of the grass.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement.
Prince Didier was marching through the crowd of knights.
His handsome face was pure stone, his eyes cutting straight toward Gisella before snapping to me, already loaded with blame.
His mouth was literally half-open. He was seconds away from calling the guards to throw us out for causing a scene.
Oh, hell no. I didn't buy this stage with a brand new Madame Laurent dress just to let this blond prince ruin it. I needed to control the narrative. Now.
I completely ignored him. I focused entirely on Lysandra, who was still standing there with her jaw dropped and her wide, stupidly clear eyes. There were a few tiny red drops of wine on her porcelain cheek.
I reached into my pocket. Thank god, my grey silk handkerchief was still dry.
I took a step forward, closing the space between us. The two knights next to her immediately gripped the hilts of their swords. They probably thought I was going to claw her face off or something. Whatever. I didn't care. I lifted my left hand and pressed the edge of the silk against her cheek.
I wiped the stain off. I kept my movements gentle but kept my distance exactly how a high-ranking noblewoman deals with a commoner. I looked her dead in the eye. No guilt. No shame.
Even with my neck burning from the drying alcohol, I smirked internally. Take notes, vultures. Watch who's actually saving your little saint's face. If the gossip rags printed this tomorrow, it was going to look like a rescue mission, not a crime.
Lysandra was frozen solid. She barely breathed as I cleaned her face. She looked at my ruined grey dress, then into my eyes, her face a messy mix of confusion and disbelief.
"L-Lady Ilse...?" she murmured.
"Hold still, Lady Lysandra," I said. I raised my voice a notch, not screaming, but loud enough for Didier to hear, since he'd stopped exactly three meters away.
"Your skin is too precious to be ruined by cheap, sour wine. It's a good thing my grey dress is thick enough to catch the brunt of it, so your appearance isn't ruined on the Empress's big day."
Didier froze. The anger evaporated, replaced by absolute confusion.
His mouth snapped shut, then opened again, looking ridiculously awkward.
He looked at me, drenched and dripping, then at Lysandra, completely spotless, then at the pitcher on the grass.
His royal brain cells were clearly short-circuiting, trying to process why the palace viper had just become a human shield for the girl he loved.
I didn't give him time to talk and ruin my setup. I spun around to face the servant who was still shivering on the grass.
"Look up," I told him. Cold. Plain.
The guy lifted his head, lips pale, probably thinking he was headed straight for the gallows because he missed his target.
"Next time you carry a tray, watch your feet," I said, making sure every noble around us could hear me clearly.
"The rose roots in the imperial garden grow pretty wild, so it's easy to trip. It's a shame the expensive wine went to waste, but at least nothing ruined the purity of the afternoon. Go clean yourself up before a senior guard catches you being clumsy."
Just like that. Case closed. The hostile whispers in the garden started to shift.
A few older noblewomen started nodding, looking at me with way softer eyes.
The whole "sabotage plot" Didier was building in his head just turned into a basic workplace accident because I dismissed it.
I traded one grey dress for total damage control.
Now, time for phase two. I needed my secondary actor on stage to finish the scene.
I turned slowly toward Gisella. She was still standing there like a statue in her obnoxious red dress, eyes bulging. She looked like she'd just seen a rock stand up and talk. Her brain was completely fried because her brilliant wine plan had been hijacked by her best friend.
I walked up to her, letting the wine drip from my hair onto the grass. I got close, looked straight into her brown eyes, and gave her a sharp, heavy glare, followed by a quick wink.
Your turn. Play along, or we're both dead.
Gisella blinked, shuddered a bit, and her mouth slowly opened, getting ready to spit out her first line.