Isaac, who was very nervous, kept looking around anxiously.
People were seen giggling as they watched the two of us.
He straightened his neck and whispered as he had been taught by his etiquette teacher.
"But it seems like everyone is looking at us. Why? Am I doing something wrong?"
"They must be looking at my dress. That's just how women are."
It was just a mockery of the two people being bullied, but I made a vague excuse.
Isaac can't get angry and storm out of the banquet hall just yet.
At that moment, a group of noble ladies who had been watching the two approached.
The person in front smiled elegantly at me.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Elliot Wilder."
"Countess Wilder."
I bowed slightly in greeting.
"You know me?"
"How could I not know the Wilder family?"
Elliot smiled as she looked at the others who had come with her, perhaps liking what I said.
I knew they weren't approaching me out of kindness..
They were in league with Mrs. Cavendish.
"I'd like to say hello to Viscountess Winston, is that alright?"
"I'm sorry. but I'm worried about leaving my husband alone."
I was trying to send him off with some courtesy, but Isaac waved his hand without even noticing.
"I'm fine, Bridget. Go talk to the ladies."
It seemed that he wanted to somehow make me friendly with the ladies.
'That's stupid.'
Despite that thought, I left Isaac behind and followed Elliot.
We weren't close enough to each other that he would stubbornly stick to me while I was supporting him.
'No matter what happens. I think it's better to follow Mrs. Wilder.'
Elliot and the group chuckled as they watched Isaac standing awkwardly alone.
"How can you be so close with your husband? You seemed so affectionate just now."
"That's right. If it were me, I wouldn't want to spend even a moment with a husband 'like that'."
I just smiled quietly.
Then one of the ladies asked more mischievously.
"What is it like living with your husband's lover? Is it fun and easy?"
"Oh my, Leonie!"
The woman next to me pretended to stop her but urged me on.
"Oh, I just wonder how you are doing, Viscountess. Don't take it personally. Didn't you say that you were the one who gave permission for that woman?"
"How much affection must the three of you have for each other to live together under one roof! Who can do that? Then do you take turns enjoying it with that woman and your husband? Or..."
The lady lowered her eyelids and asked secretly.
"All three together?"
"It's outrageous!"
A burst of laughter broke out in the crowd.
The lady who had asked the rude question shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I meant, do you enjoy dating?"
Their rudeness was endless.
"That woman, Mrs. Bellingham, is that right? I heard she has amazing service skills that can make even dying old people jump up. Is that really true?"
The ladies could no longer hold back their blunt questions and burst into laughter. This was the true nature of the nobles who pretended to be noble.
Hearing their laughter, the others around them also listened in on their conversation and joined in laughing at me.
Standing in the middle of the banquet hall, being ridiculed and scorned by the world, was something I had expected and prepared for, but it was still difficult.
But I remained silent as if I felt nothing.
Didn't I decide to become a villain?
If I had been willing to be swayed by people's pointing and gossiping, I would not have made that decision in the first place.
I was determined to stand firm, like a pine tree rooted on a cliff in the bitter wind.
When I didn't say a word in rebuttal, they became indifferent and started to mock me openly for everyone to hear.
"The situation is so chaotic that all sorts of strange things are happening. She's even thinking of bringing her husband's mistress into the house, which is embarrassing."
"I'm afraid that she'll set a precedent. Living without discipline or morality is no different from living with an animal."
I was wondering how to react when I suddenly noticed a figure passing behind the ladies.
She was an old woman with a straight posture and sharp eyes.
She was heading somewhere, ignoring the people who approached her as if she wanted to have a word with me.
My eyes widened. It was the very person I was looking for. Countess Millea Spencer.
"You're going too far!"
I suddenly raised my voice.
Countess Spencer's gaze turned to me.
"I just didn't want to lose my husband. Oh, what a hell every day was...!"
Elliot and her group looked wide-eyed at the sight of me suddenly bursting into tears.
"You started crying at a party over a joke."
"Oh my God, this is so embarrassing."
They frowned and looked down on me, thinking I was shameless.
"I think the Countess is too drunk..."
"You should take a rest on the terrace."
Having achieved their goal, they walked away from me, who was clicking my tongue and crying.
Then Countess Millea Spencer came walking towards me with a very stern look on her face.
"Don't show your tears in a place like this. It looks easy."
Then she grabbed my wrist.
Her skinny, wrinkled hands were surprisingly strong despite her appearance.
"Follow me. Staying here won't help you."
"Thank you..."
I followed Countess Spencer, acting politely.
Thinking about how her hair was still the same then, tied tightly enough to pull at her forehead and neatly trimmed without a single strand out of place.
I had seen her do her best to straighten her hair, even when she was older and sicker than she was now.
'You can't just pass me by in this life either, Millea.'
***
Millea, who had taken me to the deserted terrace, turned elegantly to face me.
"Are you feeling calmer now?"
She clicked her tongue once, took out a handkerchief, and wiped the tears from my eyes.
It was a soft touch compared to the cold expression.
"There are bad people everywhere. It's up to you whether you want to be hurt by them or not."
The harsh tone of her words made it sound like she was lecturing, but I knew it was the warmest comfort she could offer a stranger.
Millea was that kind of person. She was very cautious and strict with others as she was with herself, so she seemed cold, but in fact, she could never ignore the weak.
"I have been rude to you, Madam."
"Don't worry about it. I was just about to turn back. I'm Milea Spencer."
"This is Bridget Winston."
I took my time in greeting her, bending my knees and lowering my gaze. My manner was one of politeness.
"Well, that's great."
Millea smiled with satisfaction, seeming impressed by my greeting.
"In this day and age, it's rare to find a young person who uses greetings so accurately and by the rules."
I couldn't help but be satisfied. This was a greeting method that Millea, who placed great importance on etiquette, had personally taught me in my past life.
She used to emphasize how important the greeting is in determining the first impression. She lamented that the world has become one where many people don't even know how to greet properly.
Millea's guard was considerably eased by this one greeting that followed the rules of etiquette.
"I'm embarrassed to look funny at the party."
"Anyone makes mistakes when emotions run high."
Millea's voice was much softer than before.
"I heard people talking about Madam at the party. It's none of my business, but as someone who has lived a little longer, I would say that it's not wise to bring a mistress into the house to try to win your husband's heart. It's best to avoid getting involved with your husband's mistress as much as possible."
"...Is that so?"
"I'm not trying to criticize you, Madam. This is just advice from experience."
Millea raised her head.
She had a husband who cheated on her so much that they only had a handful of face-to-face meals together in their 40-plus years of marriage.
'It was thanks to my unwise actions, that I was able to meet you again.'
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