OHNIR – Chapter 16
Chapter 16: Slander
Weekend. Sunny, with a light breeze.
There were no swans in Swan Lake today; they had been temporarily moved elsewhere. The lush, green lakeside was reserved for the noble young masters and ladies. Long white tables, clean tea towels, and cups and saucers with golden patterns were all neatly arranged. The long branch of a willow drooped down, softly resting on a corner of a table. From a distance, it looked like an inlaid, leaf-shaped emerald.
Last night, Kelusta had finished the rest of the rose pudding. She was a little stuffed, but she slept exceptionally well.
So well, in fact, that the System couldn’t wake her up in the morning. After more than ten attempts, it finally gave up in resignation.
The tea party wasn’t until the afternoon anyway. As long as the temporary host wasn’t in a hurry herself, she would make it in time, provided she didn’t sleep into the evening.
Still groggy from sleep, Kelusta missed lunch. As soon as she woke up, she began a frantic rush to get ready, styling her hair with a round brush while righteously scolding the System for not waking her.
The System replied, aggrieved, “I did call you, temporary host. You were the one who adamantly refused to get up!”
Kelusta irritably yanked a tangled knot of hair from her brush, hissing as she sucked in a breath. Her temper flared even more. “You just gave up because I wouldn’t get out of bed? How could you! As a World Line Convergence System shouldering a monumental task, how can you be so irresolute, so easily defeated by a setback! With such weakness, how can you face the headquarters that worked so hard to cultivate you!”
“...If you hadn’t bothered to get dressed up,” the System said faintly, “arriving at the tea party on time would have been no problem at all...”
“What nonsense are you talking about.” Kelusta let her long, slightly curly brown hair fall over her shoulders. After a moment’s thought, she flicked a finger, tucking the hair on her right side gently behind her ear to reveal half of her smooth cheek. “You expect me to show up at this kind of event without any preparation? Do you want me to be thrown into the lake on the spot by those young masters and ladies for ‘disrespecting the royal family’?”
She said with contempt, looking down on all creation, “You’re such a guy.”
“...”
The System stopped responding. It decided not only to close its database to Kelusta—to stop her from stealing its material—but also that the next time it needed to wake her, it would directly play a suona for the lucky protagonist.
Although Kelusta talked about getting dressed up, her resources didn’t allow for a truly polished look. The few cosmetics she had were cheap ones Kevit had bought for her when she first arrived in the capital. After applying a bit of makeup for show, Kelusta didn’t bother struggling any further.
It was thanks to her good looks and the dark lipstick she used to brighten her complexion that her face didn’t look too washed out, overshadowed by the magnificent gown.
Kelusta rose from her vanity, smoothing out the wrinkles on her skirt from sitting for so long. She studied herself in the mirror for a while, feeling like something was missing. After a moment of contemplation, she turned around, gently opened a royal blue box on her desk, and took out...
A necklace.
The silver chain was cool to the touch, interspersed with a few round crystals. The pendant was a diamond carved into the shape of a swan. It bent its slender neck, its long beak touching its own feathers, and its wings, so detailed you could see the texture, were raised in a vivid arc, poised as if about to take flight. It looked remarkably lifelike.
Before Kelusta left Seaside Town for the academy, her father had taken out this jewelry box and handed it to her. He smiled, stroking her hair, and told her, “This was a gift to Ruth from someone very important.”
Kelusta’s mother had died when she was born. To her, the only people in the world who could be called “very important” were her father and her late mother.
In her dorm room, Kelusta looked at the necklace tenderly and placed it solemnly around her neck. The swan pendant rested coolly against the skin at the center of her collarbone. It wasn’t cold, just a subtly smooth sensation.
She raised a finger, watching her reflection in the mirror as she gently caressed the pendant. After a long moment, she softly recited a prayer.
“Light Goddess above.”
In the legends of the Nobili pantheon, the white swan had always been an incarnation of the Goddess of Light, Clara.
When Kelusta arrived at the lakeside, the tea party had not yet begun. Scattered groups of nobles were conversing with each other politely and mechanically.
The newly arrived girl was an unfamiliar face. A few young men glanced at her curiously, momentarily stunned by her beauty and elegant gown. But after a few seconds of closer inspection, they looked away, indifferent and disappointed.
Kelusta was too plain. Apart from the dress, which was acceptable, her only accessory from head to toe was that one necklace. The guests who had arrived early were mostly from minor noble families, all eager to use this rare opportunity to network with influential people. Her appearance, which screamed “too poor to make ends meet,” made it no surprise that no one paid her any mind.
Kelusta didn’t care in the slightest; she wasn’t concerned about whether she attracted attention. The brown-haired girl scanned the area and saw that everyone else was properly standing, so it wouldn’t be right for her to take a seat. She slowly slipped away to an inconspicuous corner of the venue and began to lazily lean against a tree trunk, basking in the sun.
The greenery around Swan Lake had always been well-maintained. The overlapping shadows of the trees concealed her fairly well. As long as no one looked in her direction, her rather impolite posture would go unnoticed.
“I wonder what kind of bad luck I’ll run into today,” Kelusta instructed. “Old Sy, get the Anti-Magic Halo ready. If things look bad, put it on me.”
System: “Roger. Please be careful, temporary host.”
They chatted idly in the corner. The sunlight was warm, and the plants by Swan Lake carried a unique, faint fragrance, carried gently to her nose by the breeze. Even breathing felt refreshing. It was a good thing Kelusta had slept until noon; otherwise, she might have dozed off right there against the tree.
After some time, the crowd around the tea tables grew. The small groups of three or five slowly expanded. Kelusta took a moment to glance over but didn’t see Gloria among the newly arrived nobles.
Right, the main star always makes a grand entrance.
She didn’t know if she felt disappointed or relieved. One moment, she thought she had dressed up so nicely just for Gloria to see; the next, she worried that Gloria might be angry with her for secretly attending this treacherous banquet against her advice.
Kelusta touched her hair, picked off a couple of willow leaves, and sighed in frustration.
Just then, a small commotion arose among the crowd by the tables. Kelusta vaguely heard phrases like “It’s her,” and “gracing us with her presence.” Some people even began to bow respectfully in a certain direction. Puzzled, she moved closer to the edge, parting the branches to peek out.
Such a grand entrance—could it be Gloria?
The brown-haired girl’s heart pounded. She was so nervous she didn’t know what to do with her hands and feet. As she shamelessly wiped her cold sweat on the branches, the person receiving the respectful bows from the nobles finally came into her view.
It wasn’t the Duke’s daughter, but another “acquaintance” in a sense.
It was a girl with her head held high in arrogance, holding an exquisite black feather fan. A pair of high heels were faintly visible beneath her skirt, the ruby-encrusted tips showing with each step.
She had long, wine-red hair, a rare and special color. The few strands floating by her cheeks made her complexion appear even fairer. Her hair cascaded straight down past her black-and-red gown. Her waist was adorned with shiny leather, and a metallic buckle held a long string of pearls that looped in a semicircle over her left skirt, finally fastening to a clasp on the belt at the small of her back, accentuating her slender waist.
At that moment, her pretty little face was full of impatience. She was fanning herself so vigorously that the feathers were threatening to fall off. Her red eyes, as if stained with fresh blood, scanned the area irritably, seemingly searching for something.
Kelusta narrowed her eyes slightly. She recognized this person.
Avia Charles, the youngest daughter of the Charles Marquis family. She had been doted on since childhood and grew up to be beautiful, arrogant, and disdainful of everyone.
She worshipped power and the powerful. After attending her first royal ball at the age of ten, she declared she would “marry no one but His Highness Prince Satrick.” Two years later, she successfully secured an engagement with him, and they were just waiting until they were of age to hold a public engagement ceremony.
Note: She was currently a second-year student at Holy Light Magic Academy, possessed powerful fire magic, and was a fervent admirer of Satrick. In the original game’s royal route, she was a major rival to Kelusta and, in the bad ending, successfully became the prince’s consort.
Further note: This was the impulsive young lady who had once scorched Kelusta’s sleeve with fire magic, only to have a face full of ink thrown at her in return.
Kelusta raised an eyebrow. Although she knew a lot about this minor villain, her lack of interest in pursuing the capture targets meant she had only met Satrick a few insignificant times, with each conversation lasting no more than twenty breaths... If Avia was targeting her even with that, it could only mean one thing—this young lady was truly desperate for a man.
Realizing it wasn’t Gloria, her interest in the commotion waned. She was about to shrink back to her tree to continue sunbathing. But unexpectedly, just as Kelusta released the willow branch she was holding and turned to leave, she suddenly heard a soft, abrupt sound by her feet.
The brown-haired girl froze and looked down. Where there had only been lush green grass, a black feather fan now lay quietly.
...Crap.
From behind the cover of the willow leaves, the brown-haired girl lifted her eyes and met Avia’s distant, mocking gaze.
The red-eyed girl gave her a lazy smile that held not a shred of friendliness. Then, her expression abruptly shifted to one of harshness. Standing by the tea table, she shrieked, “Well, well! Which ill-mannered young lady is this, daring to steal things at a tea party hosted by Her Highness the Second Princess?!”
Seeing that her words had captured everyone’s attention, Avia narrowed her eyes. Lifting her gown, she strode toward the expressionless brown-haired girl. When she stood before her, the spoiled and willful Marquis’s daughter spoke again, her tone dripping with malice, as if coated in poison.
“State your name, miss.”
She curled her lips again, but there was no mirth in her voice as she said mockingly, “Let me see—which uncultured noble family do you belong to?”
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