Ariadné looked straight at Lorelei and continued.

“I have never once raised my voice in my entire life.”

She had never had a reason to, and had spent many years convincing herself not to cause others any inconvenience.

To her, causing harm meant putting someone at ease with her words or actions. This often resulted in her failing to protect her own interests by holding back too much.

This seemed wise, but it had actually been foolish. She had essentially killed parts of herself for the sake of others.

This time, however, Ariadne was prepared to be angry for her own sake. The fact that doing so would benefit Sylvia and Kieron even more made her hesitate even less.

When she raised her chin and spoke boldly — a far cry from before — Lorelei burst into hysterics on the spot.

“How dare you call a princess a thief! Are you trying to blame me for your own carelessness? Do you have proof?”

“Carelessness? I’m only stating the truth. You were the one who killed the guard protecting the dress and stole it from a place we had been securing carefully. Am I wrong?”

“And now you’re brazenly wearing it as if it were something to be proud of. As if no one would recognize it.”

The colder Ariadne’s voice grew, the redder Lorelei’s face became. She was panting with fury.

“All you have is the name Peyton! What makes you think you can speak so disrespectfully to a princess? Know your place!”

“My apologies, Your Highness, but what I possess is not only the name Peyton.”

Ariadne stared straight at her.

“I wonder if the same can be said for Your Highness who has nothing beyond the title of princess.”

Who was she to decide who was possessed and who wasn’t?

Ariadne stood firm.

She wasn’t just a name — she had a family who had grown up with her and supported her. This plan had been her idea. She had found the courage to silence Lorelei’s arrogance.

And yet Lorelei dared to insult her. She, who didn’t have a single true supporter, dared to insult Ariadne?

It was laughable.

Ariadne gave a short, cold scoff as she looked at Lorelei, trembling with rage.

“Even if the names Peyton and Ambrose were taken from me, I still have people who would protect me.
But who does Your Highness have?”

The moment her calm, steady voice cut through the air, it was heard far more clearly than Lorelei’s shrill screaming.

Kieron, Jade, Sylvia and even Heidel were all astonished by Ariadne’s transformation and were silently cheering her on.

Especially Heidel.

He had always thought of her as a child, but now she was grown up, poised and speaking with such clarity and strength.

He had known the plan: Ariadne would provoke Lorelei and Sylvia would deliver the final blow. But he had never expected Ariadne to carry out her part so flawlessly.

How much could that delicate child really do, he had wondered.

He had assumed that Sylvia, himself or Duke Ambrose would corner Lorelei and deliver the final blow.

But now, Ariadne…

“Just look at yourself, Your Highness. Covering a stolen dress with jewels doesn’t change what it is.
You’re only pretending not to see—hiding your eyes behind glitter. How can you proudly display something you should be too ashamed to reveal?”

In fact, Ariadne was backing up to corner Lorelei.

At that moment, Kieron Ambrose entered Heidel’s field of vision, standing firmly at Ariadne’s side. His expression remained composed, but the trust in his eyes as he looked at Ariadne was unmistakable.

Heidel realized that he had misjudged the relationship between his sister and brother-in-law.

He finally understood why Jade, Sylvia, and even his older brothers had told him he was wrong.

“Watch your mouth! Who do you think you are?!”

Lorelei shrieked, screaming at Ariadne.

She spat venom, accusing Ariadne of insulting royalty, demanding how she dared to stare back so boldly and then took a heavy step toward her.

“Ah! That dress!”

As soon as she moved, Lorelei’s figure came fully into view through the wide-open door and glass wall behind it. The group of noble ladies pressed against the window outside could see her.

Primed by the rumors Jade had spread, they recognized the dress at once: The green dress that suited both Ariadne and Jade.

The shade of green that Duke Ambrose had personally recommended. Now, however, it was clearly hastily altered and ill-fitting on the woman wearing it.

It didn’t take them long to understand the meaning behind the ‘thief’ accusations they had overheard.

The Duchess of Ambrose was confronting the princess.

With Lorelei wearing a dress that was clearly stolen, the implication was impossible to miss.

They did not know whether Ariadne intended to force a confession and publicly shame Lorelei or simply reveal the truth. One thing was certain, though.

The person leading this confrontation was Ariadne Peyton — no, Ariadne Ambrose.

She was a young woman who had never once raised her voice in public, always standing quietly on the outskirts of gatherings unless she was with her family. She was a delicate greenhouse flower, admired and envied in equal measure.

Now, she was standing up for herself, choosing her words with precision and firmly pushing back against a princess who was becoming louder and more unhinged by the minute.

This could mean only one thing: Peyton and Ambrose were deeply disappointed in Princess Lorelei’s behavior and would no longer support her.

Those with business or marital ties to either house exchanged quick glances, each silently deciding to withdraw their support from Lorelei immediately.

If the Peyton family declared hostility towards her, her status would mean nothing. They would have to abandon her without hesitation.

A princess could be replaced.

Their livelihoods could not.

With House Ambrose now involved, the message was even clearer. No one could afford to end up on the wrong side of a war hero.

The noble spectators continued to watch as Lorelei was pushed further into the corner. Some of them even began to feel the faintest flicker of pity.

“It’s already over, Your Highness. The bridesmaids today will be me and this man.”

“What?”

When Ariadne pointed firmly at herself and her husband, who was standing beside her, Lorelei, who had been stomping around in a rage, froze.

She had assumed that the bridesmaid dress was only the one she was wearing.

However, compared to the bridesmaid gown that Lorelei had adorned with garish dangling jewels, the matching formal attire originally designed for Ariadne and Kieron exuded far more elegance and dignity — it was perfectly suited to a princess’s wedding.

Lorelei had stolen a dress, covered it in cheap ornaments, and believed it would still be used.

Ariadne gave Lorelei a cold, mocking smile. She acted like she had everything, but in reality she had nothing at all.

When Lorelei finally faced that truth, she looked painfully pitiful, drowned in glittering trinkets.

Lorelei had never imagined that there could be another bridesmaid dress. It was absurd enough that she thought ruining one dress would solve everything, but her frantic attempts to force the situation in her favor now that things weren’t going her way were anything but wise.

At least now, Ariadne felt relieved that Lorelei’s true nature would be exposed. She was never fit to be emperor.

“Come to your senses, Your Highness. We’re not talking about replacing the bride or groom—just a single bridesmaid. If something this small takes this much effort, how could anyone trust you enough to follow you?”

“Ha! You really don’t know anything, do you? His Majesty already chose me as the next emperor! Whether it takes effort or not has nothing to do with it!”

“It has everything to do with it. Your supporting faction is already in trouble, are you truly speaking without knowing anything?”

“What does that matter? The throne is already mine. In the end, someone like you will be the one kneeling beneath my feet.”

Lorelei lifted her chin, smug as ever.

And Ariadne finally grew completely weary of her, a girl who could not speak a single logical sentence, who screamed instead of thinking, who felt no remorse for anything.

‘How can a person behave like this?’
‘How can someone be so shameless, so unreasonable, so impossible to communicate with?’

Ariadne let out a long, exhausted sigh.

“Whether you become emperor or not, that is for His Majesty to decide.”

She turned her gaze past Lorelei’s shoulder, toward the current emperor, who had been silently watching everything unfold from behind his daughter.

“But if someone like you, someone who doesn’t even understand what they’ve done wrong and lives only to hurt others—were to become emperor…”

She didn’t want to imagine it, but she had to acknowledge the possibility. After all, the Emperor had appointed Lorelei as crown princess.

The moment she said those words, however, she could see people all around them shaking their heads and recoiling.

“Your Highness would never be supported by anyone as emperor. Truly.”

“Ha! Who do you think you are to tell me what I can or can’t be?! I am an emperor, an emperor-to-be! Know your place before you speak!”

As Ariadne finished speaking, Lorelei raised both her hands, as though ready to lunge forward and knock Ariadne down.

Kieron, who was standing beside her, stepped forward instantly. He was prepared to push Lorelei away, even if it meant being accused of trying to harm a princess.

But at that very moment—

“Who ever told you that you would be the next emperor?”

The voice was icy, cutting through the air.

It belonged to the man who had been silent until now, the current emperor.

Lorelei’s father.