Nick had often referred to Emma as a “gloomy girl” behind her back, mocking her black hair and calling her golden eyes “creepy.” While Emma loved her hair, inherited from her mother, and her eyes, which matched her father’s, any attempt to defend herself was met with Nick’s sarcastic barbs and veiled threats of violence. She had learned to let his insults wash over her.
But enough was enough.
“If today is the last day of this engagement, then I will have my say,” Emma thought.
“Gloomy? What part of me?”
“Your black hair, your beast-like glinting eyes, and the way you only ever do what I tell you! You’re like a creepy doll that can’t think for herself. Muir is different—she always thinks for herself, moves on her own, and takes care of me.”
Nick’s hand slid suggestively along Muir’s waist as he gazed at her. “Oh, Nick-sama~,” Muir cooed in a syrupy voice, pressing closer to him.
(Some male attendees quietly thought, “If by ‘thinking for herself,’ he means that, then sure.”)
The two leaned into each other, their faces so close they were practically touching. Emma waited patiently, giving them the time they needed to redirect their attention back to her. The room, though filled with people, was silent, watching them.
When they finally turned toward her, Emma spoke.
“My mother’s family is part of the noble Black Duke lineage, and this black hair is a mark of pride. As for my golden eyes, they share the same color as His Majesty the King’s. If you call these traits ‘gloomy,’ then you insult the most esteemed of noble families.”
Emma’s clear voice carried through the silent hall.
“What? You dare compare yourself to the King’s family?! That’s the real insult here! And personality isn’t inherited. You’re gloomy because you’re a wretched person. You’re a failure, pampered into thinking you were special because of the way people indulged you. Don’t get carried away!”
Though Nick wasn’t unattractive, his personality left much to be desired. He lacked dignity, patience, and tact. His charm only worked on those he barely knew, who thought of him as “a good guy” because of his shallow pleasantries.
“The Charmant family currently handles all trade with the Eastern Seas. The products I designed are selling incredibly well. You’re nowhere near my level, so stop embarrassing yourself with this attachment—it’s bothersome.”
“Nick-sama, you’re amazing!”
“To think you would harass my friend Muir—you lack the dignity of a noble.”
The woman gazing up at Nick with adoration had no idea how outrageous his behavior truly was. Emma dismissed her as irrelevant, likening her empty-headedness to a hollow bell pepper.
“Trade with the Eastern Seas is a joint venture with my Lavidge family. Please ensure there is no misunderstanding,” Emma interjected sharply.
“You insolent woman,” Nick muttered under his breath.
“And what, exactly, do you mean by harassment? Do you have any proof?”
“Gossiping, ostracizing her, glaring at her, trying to sabotage Muir—all of it. Proof? Muir herself said so. As a noble, it’s disgraceful to obstruct the free exchange of information—it’s practically criminal!”
For the first time in her life, Emma experienced the sensation of being utterly dumbfounded. Every accusation was baseless, relying solely on the testimony of this empty-headed woman. The absurdity of it all momentarily silenced the room, before whispers rippled through the crowd like waves.
— “That’s harassment? How kindhearted.”
— “I suppose she doesn’t want other women hovering around her talented fiancé.”
— “She wasn’t cut out to be a proper wife, was she? Such childish complaints.”
The sheer pettiness of the fabricated allegations caused even Emma’s standing to waver. Continuing this farce would only worsen her reputation.
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