“T-thank you for inviting me. I-I am Emily Hathaway.”

A murmur spread through the room.

Her soft voice and stuttering manner of speaking only deepened the confusion among those who had initially regarded her with suspicion.

For someone of her literary fame, Emily should have attended a fair number of noble gatherings. Yet, she appeared entirely unaccustomed to such events.

Even considering it was her first time, something about her demeanor seemed awkward and unusual.

“Pardon me, but are you feeling unwell?”

The question came from Lady Lila, the daughter of a viscount, seated midway through the tea gathering.

She was known to be an ardent fan of Emily Hathaway.

As people’s gazes focused on her following the question, Emily’s breathing grew uneven, and soon, she visibly began to break into a cold sweat.

“Ah, n-no, it’s just that I’m n-nervous…”

“Oh my…!”

Lady Lila covered her mouth with her small hand.

Genuinely concerned for Emily’s condition, she immediately called upon a waiting maid and instructed her to prepare a tea that would help calm Emily’s nerves.

‘Oh dear. It would have been better if she had just declined the invitation and stayed away.’

Cornelia’s gaze rested on Emily, who had her head lowered.

Some people experienced intense fear and anxiety when surrounded by unfamiliar places or large crowds, sometimes leading to full-blown panic attacks. Emily appeared to be one of them.

Cornelia found the situation deeply regrettable.

If this continued, Emily’s reputation could plummet, and she might become the subject of gossip.

Fortunately, most of the high-ranking nobles in attendance were excited to meet Emily Hathaway and had a fondness for her works. They seemed willing to overlook the unexpected turn of events with a degree of generosity.

“She writes well, but if her basic manners are like this…”

However, not everyone shared this sentiment.

Murmurs of dissatisfaction arose among a few young noblewomen seated toward the back and middle of the gathering.

“Lady Grace must be in an awkward position now.”

“Tsk. What a disappointment.”

“This is why status matters.”

What had started as a minor misstep quickly escalated into an attack on Emily’s social standing.

A faint wrinkle formed between Cornelia’s elegantly arched brows.

There were always people like that—those who derived a cheap sense of superiority from belittling others of lower status, inflicting wounds that would never heal.

Some of the noblewomen and young ladies noticed the growing tension and frowned, but none made a move to intervene.

Getting involved in such a situation carried consequences, and they preferred to observe for now rather than risk becoming entangled in the aftermath.

Emily, having overheard the cruel remarks about her, visibly paled.

This time, she truly seemed to need help.

‘Hmm. What should I do?’

Cornelia straightened her posture and set down the teacup in her hand.

Her light brown eyes swiftly scanned the room.

She wanted to help, but she believed it would be more beneficial if Grace, the host of the gathering, stepped in to resolve the situation.

Since she had arranged for Emily’s attendance, they likely had some degree of acquaintance. Grace, too, must have found this situation distressing and concerning.

And yet—

‘Is she… smiling?’

For a moment, Cornelia thought she must have seen wrong.

But no, even upon a second look, the scene remained unchanged.

Her thoughts halted, and her well-shaped dark brown brows sharply arched upward.

Grace had skillfully positioned herself outside the commotion.

As the host of the tea gathering, she should have been displaying concern and worry. Instead, she merely watched the unfolding situation with an oddly satisfied smile.

That was not the face of someone who was troubled.

It was the expression of a cunning hunter, having carefully laid a trap and now waiting for its prey to step inside.

A chilling realization swept through Cornelia’s mind.

Emily must have known about her own condition, and yet she had no choice but to attend this gathering.

Could Lady Grace have been involved in the circumstances that forced her here?

“I suppose I expected too much.”

“She’s been called a literary great, hasn’t she? Yet she can’t even manage a single sentence properly—how did she ever earn that title?”

“Indeed.”

As the murmurs of ridicule intensified, Grace finally stepped forward from where she had been silently observing.

Her eyes and lips drooped into an exaggerated frown.

“Everyone, I sincerely apologize. This is entirely my fault as the host.”

“Lady Grace?”

“Had I been more attentive, this incident would never have occurred… I’m truly sorry for making such esteemed guests uncomfortable.”

She spoke quickly, her voice laced with remorse.

Her shoulders slumped, and her face shrank with apparent distress, evoking sympathy from those watching.

The transformation was so swift that, had Cornelia not witnessed everything firsthand, she would have found it difficult to believe.

‘Oh, now this is something.’

Cornelia stifled a wry chuckle at the sheer theatrics unfolding before her.

Just then, Grace bowed deeply, her waist bending so low that it nearly touched the ground.

A few young ladies gasped in shock.

“My lady!”

“Once again, I offer my sincerest apologies.”

“Surely, my lady did not anticipate this situation, yet you go this far…”

For a noblewoman, such an excessive display of humility was almost humiliating. As a result, the attention that had been focused on Emily now shifted entirely to Grace.

The admiration and anticipation once directed toward the acclaimed writer quickly dissolved into disappointment, replaced by a chorus of praise and goodwill toward Grace’s supposed generosity and gentle nature.

A few seasoned noblewomen from prestigious families maintained unreadable expressions, but among the younger noblewomen, the reaction was immediate.

These were the same people who had flattered Grace as the emperor’s lover yet had secretly looked down on her.

Some harbored jealousy toward her, while others had sought to undermine her with slander.

Now, however, they regarded her with a newfound reverence.

Unlike their initial indifferent and reserved demeanor, they were now gazing at Grace with genuine admiration and longing.

“Unfortunately, it seems we won’t be able to hear from the esteemed author, Emily Hathaway. It appears she is quite overwhelmed.”

Despite the most significant event of the tea party being ruined, no one complained.

Unlike before, they did not seem displeased either.

On the contrary, some of the ladies offered words of comfort to Grace, understanding that she must be struggling as the host of the gathering.

“There is nothing that can be done.”

“Indeed. It is unfortunate, but this was an unforeseen situation.”

“That’s right. Lady Grace, please don’t feel burdened. Aside from this incident, I truly enjoyed your preparations and hospitality.”

The Countess of Lian, an influential moderate in high society, spoke, and the others nodded in agreement.

Was Grace’s goal to use Emily Hathaway’s reputation to solidify her position in the social circles and build connections with high-ranking noble families?

Or was this an attempt to reinvent her image?

A kind and innocent young lady.

One who generously supported those in need and donated a considerable amount annually.

Grace’s reputation was not bad; in fact, it was quite favorable.

And yet—

‘To think she would resort to something so disgraceful behind closed doors.’

The matter involving Carlisle and the sculptor of the Romania royal family, as well as the incident with Emily Hathaway, did not seem like simple misunderstandings or accidents.

Cornelia’s light brown eyes filled with cold fury, and her expression turned icy.

“Thank you for your generous understanding. As an apology for my inadequate preparations, our count’s family has prepared a special wine that is usually reserved solely for the imperial family each year.”

Grace attempted to hastily conclude the ridiculous charade without offering an apology to the one who had been mistreated.

“I hope you leave with only pleasant memories—”

“Lady Citran.”

The voice was low and steady.

Yet, it held a peculiar force that commanded attention.

In an instant, every gaze at the tea party turned toward Cornelia.

Her smile had vanished, and her hardened expression sent a chill through the air.

“Lady Olsen?”

“Do you truly believe that a mere bottle of wine can compensate for the value of these distinguished guests?”

“Pardon?”

Cornelia, the daughter of the head of the noble faction and granddaughter of the imperial bloodline of the Isariel Empire, knew how to wield her status to her advantage.

“If you have done wrong, you should beg for forgiveness.”

“What do you mean…?”

Grace seemed visibly flustered by Cornelia’s sudden, sharp rebuke.

“If bowing is not enough, then kneel. If kneeling is not enough, then crawl. Beg for it.”

Grace instinctively recoiled, taking a step back.

But upon realizing the scrutinizing eyes around her, she quickly lowered her head and let out a trembling sob.

“Lady Cornelia, why are you doing this? Did I make some sort of mistake…?”

“Emily Hathaway suffers from a condition that causes her to experience an inexplicable fear in front of a crowd.”

Cornelia’s icy gaze bore into Grace, her face colder than the harshest winter.

“As someone who has supported her since her obscure days, surely you wouldn’t claim ignorance of that fact?”

Cornelia would have let this go if Grace had shown even the slightest hint of remorse.

But she had just squandered her last chance.

Grace had lured the highest-ranking noble families of the Roman Empire to this gathering with Emily Hathaway as bait, using her as a tool to serve her own interests.

That alone was infuriating enough.

And yet—

A so-called ‘patron’ had trampled upon a person’s honor and driven her to the brink of despair?

“This is a misunderstanding!”

“A misunderstanding?”

“Yes!”

Grace desperately protested, veins visible on her neck.

“She only ever got nervous to the point of sweating! It was never this severe!”

At that moment, the gazes of those watching shifted subtly.

“So you knew.”

“Ah…”

Cornelia let out an elegant scoff as she watched Grace unwittingly dig her own grave in her desperation.

“Whether her symptoms were mild or severe is irrelevant. What matters is that you already knew about Emily Hathaway’s condition and still brought her here. Why?”

“I—I…”

“Why did you place her in a situation where she could have been humiliated?”

Cornelia’s sharp reprimand and piercing gaze drained all color from Grace’s face.

Biting her lip would not provide an escape.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

This was never part of her plan.