Chapter 25

As mentioned in the summary, the mimosa in this work refers to the bowing mimosa.

"Let's go, Mimosa."

"Yes."

I climbed the steps of the castle, led by Percival. In the hall ahead, a splendid evening party was being held.

At first, I was nervous, but when I saw Percival's brain freeze at the sight of me, who had been polished and dressed up all morning, my tension somehow eased.

The dress, a soft lilac color like the mimosa flower, had a wide, billowy skirt. The decorations were not flashy, but beautiful embroidery ran from the hem of the skirt upwards. Perhaps because my posture had improved, I found myself looking forward to wearing such a splendid dress.

The jewelry was pink sapphire to match the dress, and my milk tea-colored hair was swept back. The hair accessory was also a pink sapphire, so I was finished in a delicate appearance that embodied my name. Although I felt like a flower by the roadside, I accepted it, thinking that even mimosa flowers by the roadside could be called delicate.

Most importantly, Percival, though a bit uneasy, was properly escorting me, so I didn't have to be as nervous as I might have been when slipping through the doors of the evening party.

The letter from last night was tucked into a gap in the dress. It was a talisman. Percival would protect me.

Casablanca's face flashed in my mind. Standing in front of the door, I straightened my back and entered the room.

As we descended the stairs to the hall, my father, mother, and Casablanca were the first to spot us. Casablanca and my mother wore expressions of shock, while my father, who knew, remained calm.

Even when my mother asked my father with her eyes what was going on, my father feigned ignorance. My father is much stronger than I thought.

Perhaps Casablanca was the one who sent the letter. Laughter could be heard here and there. I didn't like the atmosphere, but the supposedly frail Casablanca didn't look frail at all. She should have put on a better act, considering she had rejected the marriage proposal she had been designated for, even if it was a setup.

From this, it was clear that Casablanca wasn't good at socializing. She just liked it, as a place where she could be recognized and where there was glamour.

"It's been a while, Father, Mother, and Sister."

"I have always been grateful to Mimosa. This is the first time we have met face to face, Viscount Norton, Viscountess, and Miss Casablanca. I am relieved to see that your health has improved considerably."

I stiffened, but Percival greeted my family with a flowing smile. My mother and Casablanca, trying to maintain a smile despite their frustration, managed to respond with a "Yes," as my father and Percival began to chat.

I stood to the side, but Casablanca pulled my arm.

"Excuse me, Percival. I'll be right back."

In a place with so many people, I couldn't act like I was at home, and I felt a bit more confident, so I politely excused myself and followed her.

In a corner of the hall, with the dance floor in the center and the wall lined with food and drinks, Casablanca released my arm. She had pulled my arm so hard that it left a mark, but I maintained a calm face, which probably irritated her even more.

"What do you mean?!"

"I mean, the marriage proposal you recommended to me and even lied about. It's too late now, and it's not my fault."

"Wh-What?! You, when did you start talking so insolently…!"

"I'm just stating the facts. ...Sister, we are in public, please try to control your expression and voice."

Today is a welcome party for the ambassador of a neighboring country. It's not appropriate to raise such a loud fuss. Still, I ended up introducing Percival at this evening party because of Casablanca's misunderstanding.

She must have been very upset at being pointed out. She couldn't win with words, and she hadn't been able to socialize as she liked for a while.

Something seemed to explode inside Casablanca, and I saw it in slow motion.

Her hand gripped a glass of champagne, and she was about to throw it at me. It felt strange to see it in slow motion.

However, I didn't get doused with champagne. A woman pushed me aside and took the hit instead.

"Miss Rothton!"

I was so surprised that I could only call out her name.