The more such rumors had spread, the more people had left Lydia’s side. Mikhail was known to be kind to everyone, but you could count on one hand the number of young ladies he allowed to call him by name. Lydia was one of them, and as such, she was regarded as a serious contender for empress. That wasn’t the case anymore.
Some had even started looking at Lydia with scornful eyes. She was the one Mikhail had “discarded,” they whispered.
Lydia couldn’t have left things like that.
That was why she’d pretended to run into Ekaterina by chance. At that time, she’d seen Ekaterina and Mikhail interact in person for the first time. They seemed far closer than she’d expected, and she’d felt her chest burn.
Ekaterina cooking with her own two hands had shown she hadn’t received a proper education as a lady, but that didn’t change a thing. Mikhail had already fallen into her trap. He didn’t seem to have noticed her web around him. It was all wrong. Lydia had the future of the nation in mind—she had to save the prince from Ekaterina’s clutches so her family could support him and help him make the empire right again by returning to its roots.
Lydia’s parents had constantly been on edge too, devising plans to undermine the Yulnovas. They’d worked tirelessly with their advisors, but nothing had worked. The House of Yulnova was too powerful; damaging it with brute force was utterly impossible.
I need to win against her personally. That’s the only way, Lydia had realized.
Just as she’d made up her mind and had started planning her move, a godsent opportunity had fallen into her lap: the chance to compete with Ekaterina in front of the former emperor and empress with her singing. She’d never get a better shot at destroying Ekaterina. She had to strike hard and get the God of Music to notice her as Ekaterina looked on helplessly.
It was in this state of mind that Lydia had arrived at the detached palace earlier that day.
All this time, Lydia had seen Ekaterina as a calculating, vicious girl who’d relied on her face, figure, and hateful schemes to seduce Mikhail.
When Lydia had suffered a crushing loss in front of Ekaterina’s very eyes, Lydia had known that Ekaterina would gloat to herself about this victory.
Lydia couldn’t bear the thought. How was she supposed to endure the shame? As she’d fallen to her knees in tears, she’d resolved to end her life—there was no other way.
However...
“Lady Selesnoa!”
Ekaterina had rushed over to Lydia. She had hugged her so tight that it hurt.
“Your singing was wonderful! Anyone who listens to you can tell how diligent you’ve been all these years.”
“You’ll grow in the future. You’ll bloom into a finer flower, and then, your time will come. I’m sure of it.”
She’d been so desperate, so anxious to pick the right words despite her precipitation. There hadn’t been an ounce of cunning planning in her words or actions. She’d just tried her hardest to comfort Lydia.
Lydia had finally realized: She’s a good person. Too good.
Neither her father nor her mother would have rushed to her like this if they’d been there. Because that wouldn’t have been the right thing for a marquess or his wife to do.
As the lady of a ducal house, Ekaterina had acted all wrong.
And yet... And yet... She’s so warm.
Ekaterina wasn’t just nice. She’d personally crafted this situation and had masterfully driven Lydia into a corner, but she was still kind. While she could put on a mask of cunning if she needed to, her very core was made of pure, unadulterated kindness.
That’s why Prince Mikhail fell for her... She’s so odd, but how could anyone not love her?
I know Prince Mikhail won’t take my hand now. But that’s fine. I have my music.
How could Lydia put her current feelings into a song? As she pondered over that question, a passage of the song Olga had sung came to her mind. The song was right—being unable to believe in yourself hurt more than losing your dream.
Maybe I should sing it myself...
When she got home, Lydia would tell her father about how taking away Olga’s piano would have earned them the ire of the former empress. She’d also bring up what she’d heard about her great-grandfather. Finally, she’d tell him that there’d be no removing Ekaterina from the prince’s heart.
Since things had come to this point, should she suggest siding with the Yulnovas?
There were no highborn ladies around Ekaterina yet, so now was the time to snatch that position. The Yulnovas and Selesnoas had different political beliefs, but such things had never prevented houses from cooperating.
As far as politics went, the House of Selesnoa was more aligned with the House of Yulmagna. However, Lydia had heard of their financial troubles. A certain someone from the House of Yulmagna liked to bring up Ekaterina often, but Lydia had always known that this was only done to fan the flames and entice the Selesnoas to go up against the Yulnovas so the Yulmagnas could reap the benefits. Ekaterina’s bad reputation when she’d first started appearing in the public eye was likely a courtesy of theirs.
Looking at the situation calmly, it’d be more beneficial for the House of Selesnoa to seek an alliance with the House of Yulnova, considering its current momentum, instead of falling in with the Yulmagnas.
Lydia’s father would surely be angry when she told him of everything that had happened. However, if she made sure to highlight that the former empress had liked her singing and even bestowed a dress upon her despite her displeasure with the House of Selesnoa, he wouldn’t punish her, if only to avoid irritating the former empress further. Lydia knew that this was the reason the former empress had given her that gown and insisted that she had to let her parents know about it. Clementina didn’t want Lydia’s position within her household to become more precarious as a result of today’s events.
From now on, I can just live off of and for my singing. I’ll keep going so I can sing a song that surpasses perfection.
Prince Mikhail, you’ve always been my prince and my dream, but I’m not sad you won’t take my hand.
I’m a proud daughter of the House of Selesnoa. I was raised to be the perfect lady, so I’m not sad.
I’m not sad at all, so what are these drops falling on my knees?