Please Support Revenge

The laughter grew louder and louder, echoing through the grand hall. The people present expected Lobelia to become flustered, her fair skin to flush with embarrassment, and for her to flee the scene in disgrace. But Lobelia did not do that. Instead, she smiled brightly, her lips curving upwards in a gentle arc. The laughter of the nobles died down, replaced with a sense of unease. Lobelia’s smile was unusual, it was clearly a smile but it held a certain sharpness behind it, as if a razor-sharp blade was hidden just beneath the surface.

“It’s strange,” Lobelia said in a graceful voice, her words cutting through the silence like a knife. “I thought it was natural for me to associate with many men and women.” At her words, the nobles’ expressions turned to one of confusion and surprise.

“What kind of talk is that? Where did you hear such nonsense?” sneered a middle-aged man with a well-groomed mustache. Lobelia analyzed his appearance, recalling the Original in her mind. He was the Viscount of Reverie, a close aide to Florin. That’s good, Lobelia thought to herself, pleased that Florin’s entourage had involved himself.

“Hey, everyone does, right? Everybody was doing it, so I thought it was basic etiquette in society,” she shrugged nonchalantly. The Original, with its entirety ingrained in her mind, gave her the knowledge she needed.

In the Original, in order to emphasize Aina’s pure and supreme love, the author delved into the sordid affairs of those who dared to engage in low-quality infidelity in contrast to her. Thus, Lobelia was well-versed in the intimate relationships of the nobles, as if she were privy to their secrets. As she recounted the affairs one by one in her mind, the mustache of the Viscount of Reverie twitched in disapproval.

“Just because you’ve been invited to the party, Lobelia, doesn’t mean you can pretend to be a noble. There is a clear boundary between you and us. Such insults…” he sighed.

“But even Viscount Reverie has a mistress, and she is none other than Lady Liste, the wife of the rising young nobleman, Lord Cler, who attends the Academy, right?” Lobelia spoke in a playful tone, as if singing a song. The viscount’s face instantly hardened like a statue, and the lady sitting at the same table as him paled. She was the viscount’s wife.

“Is that really true, my dear?” she asked him with a trembling voice. “You said Miss Claire came to our house the other day to return the fountain pen that Lord Liste had borrowed! But it wasn’t that, was it?”

“No, at that time…” the viscount stammered.

Viscount of Reverie began to sweat profusely. He had forgotten his argument with Lobelia and was now focused on trying to calm his crying wife. However, his wife was inconsolable.

“You promised you would only love me forever! How could you be so unfaithful in front of so many people?!” She screamed at him as she stood up and slapped him hard.

“My, my love…” he stuttered in shock as she walked out of the party room, leaving him standing there bewildered.

“Lobelia, what kind of mischief is this!” shouted the middle-aged man who had been observing the scene. Lobelia examined his face filled with anger. Baron Geril, Lobelia thought to herself as she recognized him as yet another member of Florin’s entourage. How lucky am I?

“Why are you doing this?” he barked at her. “Can you take responsibility for what just happened? You can’t even take responsibility and yet you dare to tarnish Viscount Reverie’s reputation with your inappropriate words.”

Lobelia remained unfazed as the large man continued to shout at her. “Viscount Geril is truly impressive, considering he is able to maintain relationships with both Lady Lehma and Lady Dorothea at the same time,” she said with a sly grin.

Viscount Geril was left speechless, his mind racing as he realized his own wife was not present at the salon party tonight, but Lady Lehma and Lady Dorothea were.

“What?” Lady Dorthea exclaimed, her deer-like eyes fixed on Viscount Geril. “Viscount Geril, you told me that I was the only one for you,” she cried, her voice trembling with anger and hurt.

Lady Lehma clasped her hands tightly in her lap, her face pale and drawn. Her husband, Viscount Rehma, looked on with a mixture of confusion and anger.”Illina, is this true?” He growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Did you cheat on me with this… this womanizer?”

“Womanizer? That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Viscount Geril interjected, his expression one of disdain.

But Dorthea was not to be deterred. “Viscount Geril, I demand an answer. Did you cheat on me with another woman?” she shouted nervously.

Florin bit her lip in frustration as she watched the scandal unfold before her eyes.

“That’s enough, everyone!”