The Bad Ending of an Otome

“She was fundamentally different from ‘us’. That’s how I felt. It also appeared logical that she would die young. A person with such radiance couldn’t possibly be ordinary… She was just a young lady from a common noble family, but she earned adulation that even royalty could not match. Even before her official debut, she had a sizable fan base. But she didn’t appear to be in a good mood. Even that seemed normal to me.”

I nearly enlarged my eyes in horror, but I kept them closed. 

Ophelia had a lot of things, but she didn’t want any of them.

That was the source of her genuine dissatisfaction. 

The Ophelia in the game most certainly was. 

Then there’s Ophelia, who was with me.

“Perhaps those who lingered around her, such as myself, saw you as a thorn in her side. Meeting you transformed the goddess of everyone into an ordinary human.”

“…She is an ordinary human.”

“No one can truly see ‘that’ Ophelia Windrose as an ordinary human.”

Cassio Brahamdorff’s tone was firm and impersonal. 

He didn’t refer to the one he had so much lauded and revered. 

I swallowed, feeling something incomprehensible.

“A goddess revered by all who could easily dismiss human life as trivial as ants. But you treated her like a bad-tempered teenager. You restrained her from using harsh language and even dared to be furious with her.”

“…”

It was nothing out of the ordinary for me. 

Wasn’t it self-evident? 

Sure, she was difficult to deal with, which was why she was alone, but once you got beyond her outlandish appearance, she was just another person. 

She craved new experiences, adored bright spring flowers, and despised her fragile body. Without me, such a wretched girl couldn’t even have one friend. 

I mocked her with that, and Ophelia grinned back, warning me not to think about going anywhere.

“I recall her expression the first time I saw her. Yes, her eyes were bug-like when she stared at others, at me, at others. Those eyes lacked any warmth. If she could, she appeared to be the type of person who could crush the globe with the tip of her finger.”

“…”

“You’re correct. I was sick of living at the time. Everyone’s thought process was so predictable. People who interacted with me were usually of two categories. Those who acknowledged and favored me or thought I was lesser and belittled me. The former was dull, whereas the latter was hilarious. Among all of it, I noticed her.”

The light in the room was dim. 

On the table, a single candle flickered. 

Cassio’s profile looked like a wax doll in the crimson light. 

Arrogant, noble, and apathetic.

 I tucked the letter I was clutching into my arms just barely.

“She… She seemed to sparkle with a dazzling primary hue in an otherwise colorless world. It was natural for her to look down on me. Being affected by human emotions did not suit her. But… she became human when she was by your side. Such a human, laughing, sobbing, becoming furious, babbling… It was strange to witness a deity descend and become human.”

“She’s been human from the start.”

“Because you’re that kind of person, Ophelia Windrose died as a human.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve been curious about how you managed to change Ophelia Windrose.”

Cassio Brahamdorff didn’t crack a smile. 

I thought as I stared at the man’s lovely, emotionless face. 

Yes, he was that type of man. 

This type of individual.

Despite spending time together and becoming partners at the debutante dance, he only lost his edge for a little while. 

He was a long way from actually cherishing or comprehending someone.

“Ophelia despised difficult situations. Not only did she refuse to beg for favors from individuals she disliked, but she also refused to share the same area with them.”

“Do you think you understand her better than I do?”

“Certainly not. I was just wondering why ‘that’ Ophelia went to the trouble of leaving a letter for me.”

“Don’t belabor the point. In the end, you’re no different than the others who have been babbling to me.”

“…What did you just say?”

“Isn’t it always the same? Why would someone like you stand on Ophelia’s side? Is she even interested in you? I thought I was done hearing it, but I didn’t expect to hear it here either.”

I got out of my chair. 

The light made the man’s soulless gray eyes appear crimson.

“People like you cling to her while failing to see her for who she truly is. After all, if not me, to whom could she have turned?”

The cheerful mood had vanished barely a moment ago.

“Why should every aspect of her be ‘understandable’ to others? Who are you to her?”

Right. 

Ophelia didn’t despise him for no cause. 

I locked my gaze on the man.

“She was unique. I owe her a lot. I even considered dying for her. But that was only because she was precious to me, and I was precious to her, and nothing else. Let it be that you liked her and thought highly of her. Stop classifying her as odd because she does not meet your expectations.”

I couldn’t love everything about her. 

But I could see what she was saying. 

Even as I envied and felt jealous, I saw that what I so strongly desired, even if only a piece of her, was trash to her. 

It was easy to accept that I couldn’t help but resent her. 

I headed towards the door, not looking back. Cassio’s voice cut me off.

“What if there wasn’t just one person ‘like’ Ophelia?”

“…”

For a brief while, my mind was blank. 

I reacted before I could understand what he was saying.

“…What do you mean?”

My voice shook slightly. 

On the other hand, Cassio’s voice lacked emotion, sounding as clinical as a scientist conducting an experiment. 

I came to a halt instinctively.

“I presume you can guess whom I am referring to.”

Like colorful glass, the man’s eyes gleamed emotionlessly.

* * *

Today was indescribably eventful for Elodie. 

The majority of folks had a positive outlook. 

Young girls her age, who had seen her before, excitedly approached, praising Elodie’s beauty and commenting on how well she got along with Raretis.

Other women frequently observed that Marchioness Windrose and Elodie looked like mother and daughter. 

Elodie was sometimes suspicious, but she felt rested when she saw the Marchioness expertly shrugging off such insults.

Various young men often approached Elodie, which made her feel embarrassed at times. Receiving so many dancing invitations for her debut showed her popularity. 

Some, however, went beyond polite dance offers and approached Elodie, who was plain with her cavalier, in an impolite manner. 

It wouldn’t have been as scary if it had only been one or two, but most of them approached her in this fashion, which was disconcerting. 

She went to dance with Raretis to avoid them, and when she returned, she witnessed a startling event.

Edmund Gloucester appeared enraged as if he had slapped the face of a young lady nearby. Her brown hair was unkempt. 

Furthermore, a man who appeared to be her dance partner stood nearby.

Whispers rose from the crowd, worried that the situation would worsen. 

Different from how people approached Elodie, there were few individuals around Edmund. 

They were watching from a few steps away for some reason. 

Whatever the reason, Edmund had agreed to be Elodie’s cavalier for the day. 

How could he have slapped someone? 

Elodie shouted out in shock.

“Lord Edmund Gloucester!”

She half-ran towards him, holding her long garment in both hands. 

The blue-haired man shuddered when he heard her voice.

Was he aware of the significance of his actions? 

She approached the scene, biting her lip, and paused. 

The lady clutching her cheek had a visage that was all too familiar.

Those surrounding her gave her an uninterested look. 

Black as ink eyes and hair. 

Her black hair, draped over the multilayered dress, was a work of art in and of itself. 

Despite evidently being slapped, she showed no embarrassment or shrinking; instead, her eyes became even colder. 

Elodie realized she had encountered the same young lady in the dressing room and was at a loss for what to do next.

The incident from back then has now become a hot topic. 

At that moment, a slew of ideas raced through her mind.

“…What on earth is happening here?”

Elodie’s voice automatically constricted with the swirl of emotions she was experiencing. 

Raretis Hope was standing right next to her. 

He always escorted her with an excellent demeanor and without a blemish. 

That was also the case today. 

Everyone claimed he was the ideal cavalier as if depicted in a painting. 

His dance, leadership, and escorting abilities were all impeccable.

He was always the most respectful to her, rather than praising her with words. 

He needed to be more easily persuaded. 

But when he spotted Emilia, who was shielding her bruised cheek with her palm, a storm seemed to rage in his violet eyes. 

When Emilia noticed Elodie and Raretis, she remarked in an awkward tone.

“There was a minor dispute between me and Lord Edmund Gloucester.”

Edmund Gloucester, the man who had hit her, stood transfixed, looking agitated. 

Emilia’s partner, a gorgeous blonde aristocrat, expressed his disbelief.

“Lady Emilia, this isn’t the way to handle it…”

“I’d like to take a break in the lounge, Lord Brahamdorff. I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself.”

Her tone was authoritative. 

The individual known as Brahamdorff answered as if nothing had happened.

“…Understood.”

Internally, Elodie took a deep breath.

“What on earth… Lord Edmund Gloucester, what is…”

“…”

The blue-eyed man simply averted Elodie’s stare. 

His demeanor suggested he didn’t have anything to say. 

Elodie was taken aback. 

To put it mildly, Edmund was always open and honest with Elodie. 

To put it bluntly, he became simplistic once it came to her.

Elodie knew her position better than anyone; thus, she didn’t have the guts to reject the heir of the Gloucester family openly. 

Even in this situation, she couldn’t support Edmund Gloucester.

She recall Edmond being unusually upset when she saw him in the locker room. 

He froze without retorting after Emilia shouted a few icy words. 

When she reflects on that period, she wonders whether something similar happened this time. Although Edmund was at first silent, a voice could be heard at that same moment.

“Emilia.”

It was a complicated voice packed with emotions. 

She was astonished again as she offered Emilia a handkerchief and observed the complicated look in Raretis’ eyes. 

It was unusually tense.

Emilia was not very glamorous, with half of her black hair up and half down, but she had a subtle appeal that drew people’s attention.

Her hair flowers, which included lavender lilies and pink roses, were bought from outside. 

Her hair was intricately styled, with ribbons, flowers, and lace perfectly balancing each other. The moonstones that twinkled between her black hair were not as valuable as diamonds, but they were one-of-a-kind, each expertly carved into a different shape.

Her eyes remained tranquil, although she had just been slapped. 

Amid the bustling ballroom, she appeared to be in her universe. 

It was an odd sensation. 

Emilia paused momentarily as she gazed at the handkerchief before turning away.

Elodie had a sudden sinking sensation in her chest. 

It was strangely depressing. 

Why? 

Why was she completely neglecting herself? 

Back then, in the carriage, the dressing room, and now here. 

Emilia had moved her gaze away from her three times. 

Was it because of the stares of others? 

No, she didn’t seem to be the type to care. So, why? 

“Emilia.”