The next day...
Lovely chatter echoed throughout the garden of Flower Manor in Fortshire.
The ladies participating in the competition were engaged in their very first task: meeting, greeting, and conversing with one another, the elder noble ladies of the court, the Queen Dowager, and the Queen.
Most of the young women were eagerly anticipating the arrival of the Crown Prince. However, for reasons unknown, he had yet to make an appearance. It was already late morning, and midday was fast approaching. The event had begun over two hours ago, yet he was nowhere to be found.
Whispers began to ripple through the crowd as everyone started to wonder whether he would show up at all.
As for Ariel, she couldn't care less whether he came or not. Considering what had unfolded between them the previous night, she would be more than glad if he didn't show up at all.
Standing near a rose bush in a secluded corner of the garden, she quietly observed the other women conversing. She wore a stunning floral-print dress that heightened her natural beauty in an eccentric, captivating way. Her long, wavy black hair flowed freely down her shoulders and back, woven with delicate braids and freshly picked flowers at the side. She looked nothing short of ethereal.
Though her outfit was simple, her sheer beauty elevated it into a vision of glamorous bliss—attracting far more enemies than friends due to petty envy.
As a result, she hadn't met, greeted, or conversed with a single person since the event began.
All the ladies gave her the cold shoulder, sneering and snickering behind sweet, polite brush-off greetings—a clear sign they had no interest in conversing with her or even standing in her presence.
Ariel had assumed she would at least get to banter with her bestie-rival, but to her dismay, her frienemy was nowhere to be found.
She had caught a brief glimpse of her during the morning briefing in the meeting hall, but after that, she had vanished into thin air.
Ariel genuinely needed their deliciously venomous banter right now to cure her unbearable boredom, but the woman was nowhere in sight.
Which made her feel uneasy.
The Queen Dowager was right, the Slovaks and Brentfords had truly planted their minions in the competition. They were clearly doing their best to annoy her, isolate her, and make her feel unwanted and mocked.
Whenever she tried to approach the elder noblewomen of the court for a conversation, they ignored her as if she didn't exist, continuing to chatter among themselves. Worse, some would even wrinkle their noses and turn away from her.
It was a blatant display to show she was unwelcome—tactics specifically designed to deduct points from her score in the competition.
Without the approval of the elder noblewomen of the court, it would be difficult for her to gain a solid footing in high society, ultimately rendering her unfit for the role of Queen.
Ariel sighed as she watched them chat warmly with the other ladies, giving her no indication that they had any intention to meet, greet, or converse with her.
Boredom began to set in. She decided to step away from the event for a short while, planning to return later to speak with the key figures the Queen Dowager had pointed out the previous night—once they were no longer occupied.
She was just about to make her exit when...
"Well, well... looks like people actually know how to stay away from filth when they see it. Tsk... and you were so confident last night that you would be attractive. What a pity you are..." a voice sneered behind her.
"What else do you expect from a woman wrapped in disgraceful rumors? It's obvious she was bound to be recognized as a mere stick in the mud rather than a beautiful flower," another voice echoed.
Ariel shook her head slightly and turned around to see none other than Lady Catherine Slovak walking toward her. Beside her stood an elder noblewoman of the court with greying black hair styled in a regal bun adorned with a small crown. She possessed sharp black eyes, a flat nose, full pink lips, and a voluptuous figure much like Catherine's—a clear sign the two were related. She wore a tailored green and cream gown.
The two of them walked toward her with sinister smirks, clearly intent on causing trouble.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ariel spotted a woman lurking inconspicuously near the rosebushes, intently observing the exchange. She was undoubtedly one of the judges monitoring the event.
Yet, she was just as obviously one of their puppets. Catherine and her companion didn't even bother to conceal their malice, openly mocking and taking jabs at Ariel without the slightest caution—even though such hostility violated the competition's rules.
It was a blatant trap designed to make her slip up, lose her temper, and get herself disqualified.
It was foolish, but intriguing—exactly what she needed to cure her unbearable boredom.
Time to have some fun.
Ariel smirked faintly to herself. 'Typical. It seems some people never learn. But if it's another humiliating spectacle they want, then another humiliating spectacle they shall get.'
With a graceful smile, Ariel offered a flawless curtsy in greeting.
"Greetings, Lady Catherine. Greetings, Your Ladyship," Ariel said, straightening her posture and facing them with a bright, unfazed smile. "It is such an honor to be in your presence and to make your acquaintance."
Catherine scoffed. "And who said we wanted to be in your company? We merely came to see if you were still shameless enough to continue this charade after realizing that you are nothing but an unwanted pest ruining the atmosphere of this event. As you can see, no one here is interested in you. It's a clear sign that no matter how shamelessly you cling on, you'll never get what you want."
"Why waste your breath on her, Catherine darling?" the elder noblewoman chimed in, her tone dripping with disdain. "It's obvious she's just a shameless social climber—one of those desperate wannabes who will go to any length to acquire what they desire. Your warnings clearly don't work on her kind. They only realize their place when they are dragged out of the way like the shameless lowlifes they are."
Catherine smiled and replied, "Exactly, Auntie. Truly, some shameless people need to be dragged out of the way for them to realize... they are an unwanted eyesore to those who actually deserve the spotlight."
"Precisely," Catherine's aunt agreed, eyeing Ariel up and down with deep disdain. "Ha... how can a mere pardon dare to try to outshine the true ladies of the court? Unbelievable and utterly shameless. If you are truly wise, little girl, and have even a shred of dignity left, you should step aside and stop embarrassing yourself—and, worse, the Queen Dowager, who has clearly wasted her investments on you. Save yourself the trouble and get out."
Catherine glanced briefly at the judge standing near the rosebushes, smirking before taking a step closer to Ariel.
"So, where is your confidence now, Miss Ariel? Didn't you say you were going to drag me down with you today? Claiming that you would be the one shining in the spotlight instead of me? But look..." She gestured grandly at the surrounding garden. "No one seems to be even remotely interested in you." She chuckled lightly. "Tsk... it truly is such a shame. Guess you're going to get out of my way much sooner than you thought. What? Can't handle the pressure of humiliation? I hope this makes you realize what a little bitch you are and stop trying to mess with the bigger bitches... otherwise, you'll get what's coming to you. Mmm."
Catherine sneered, patting Ariel's cheek patronizingly.
Ariel remained entirely unfazed, her polite smile unwavering.
"Thank you so much, Lady Catherine, for the thoughtful advice. I truly appreciate it. It warms my heart to know that despite the cold demeanor you usually show me, you still think of me and care about my well-being. And you even brought your lovely aunt to meet and converse with me! Truly, Lady Catherine, I thought you only viewed me as an enemy, but it seems I was mistaken. You really do have a sweet heart after all," Ariel spoken sweetly, her voice dripping with artificial warmth.
Catherine's eyes widened in sheer disbelief before she immediately snapped. "You... bitch! How dare you! Why on earth would I care about you?! I only came to relish in your misery—not to console or pity you! I wanted to see your face one last time before you're disqualified for failing this task. Why would I ever befriend you? Ha! I would rather die than entangle myself with filth like you!" She huffed, her cheeks flushing with fury.
Ariel smiled at her calmly and said, "Well, my apologies for mistaking your actions as kindness, Lady Catherine. I truly thought you cared about me and wanted to welcome you to the club properly, but I guess someone else will."
Catherine looked at her with a mix of confusion and disgust. "What on earth do you mean by that? I would never be part of your filth, bitch. So don't ever count on it."
Ariel smiled and replied sweetly, "We'll just see about that, Lady Catherine. In case you have forgotten what I told you last night..."
She leaned in slightly, whispering so only Catherine could hear: "Remember, to be the flower, you must shine bright no matter what filth surrounds you. Otherwise, you might be mistaken for a weed and uprooted before you know it. Tsk... but I guess you couldn't wait to become the filth as well. Because only filth loves to surround itself with other filth. Isn't that right, Lady Catherine?"
Ariel smirked faintly before stepping back, her expression shifting instantly into a sweet, innocent smile as she watched Catherine's face flush red and twist in fury.
"You... you bitch!" Catherine roared, her outburst piercing through the garden.
The entire lawn fell dead silent. Noblewomen stopped their conversations mid-sentence, gasping in utter disbelief.
Ariel widened her eyes in shocked dismay, quickly covering her mouth with her hands. "Lady Catherine... your language!" she gasped softly, her tone carrying gentle concern. "This is a socialite gathering, not a brawl. If you have any grievances with me, you should address them properly—not in such a unrefined manner. My goodness, is this how a proper lady behaves?"
"You... you..." Catherine stammered, her face burning with helpless rage. She opened her mouth to retort when a commanding voice cut in:
"Indeed. Are we now serving Sweet Tea mixed with filth at an event meant for friendly chatter, Lady Catherine? Is this truly how you were taught to behave in your kingdom?"
A sharp voice sliced through the air. Catherine didn't recognize who spoke, but seeing Ariel immediately drop into a low curtsy meant the newcomer was a figure of towering importance.
Catherine slowly turned around, only to see her own aunt dropping into a deep curtsy as well, her head bowed in deference.
Catherine shifted her gaze to behold a stern, elderly woman—nearly the age of the Queen Dowager, if not older—clad in an exquisite black and red embroidered gown. Embroidered onto her jacket, the kingdom's emblem shone fiercely.
Though her hair was mostly grey with subtle black strands peeking through, her obsidian eyes remained sharp and intense despite her age. She possessed a delicate nose, refined pink lips, and an unmistakable aura of absolute authority.
Though advanced in age, the woman radiated a domineering aura—one that matched the presence of the Queen Dowager, and rivaled Daniel's own commanding authority.
Standing right behind her were the Queen Dowager and Queen Esmeralda, who was glaring fiercely at Catherine.
Catherine was so completely taken aback by the sudden turn of events that all sense of court etiquette abandoned her. She stood there dumbstruck, failing to curtsy or offer a single word of greeting.
The elder woman looked down at her with unfiltered disgust before spitting onto the ground. "Just as expected. Draskian filth indeed. Pwee..."
Catherine opened her mouth to retort, but before a single word could escape, her aunt yanked her down into a low curtsy.
Desperate to salvage the situation, her aunt immediately interjected, "Your... Esteemed Grace! Please forgive my niece. She did not mean to be unruly or cause offense. She is still adjusting to the customs of our kingdom. Please, show mercy."
Queen Esmeralda stepped forward as well, curtsying deeply. "Yes, Your Highest Eminence, please forgive my foolish niece. She meant none of it. Please show mercy."
The elderly woman snorted. "Tsk... she meant none of it? Truly?" She turned her gaze to Catherine's aunt, whose head remained bowed low. "And you... you claim your niece here did not mean to be unruly. Why, then, did you fail to step in and stop her when she was openly insulting and mocking this young woman? This event is meant to foster goodwill without prejudice. Though you are competitors today, that does not mean you cannot form alliances tomorrow—supporting one another in future endeavors and diplomatic partnerships between your kingdoms and fiefs. This task is not merely a test of noble etiquette; it is designed to prove whether you are capable of unity. Yet, from what I have witnessed, not a single one of you—and I mean none of you—has demonstrated such intentions since this gathering began. How do you expect to rule as Queens with such crude attitudes?"
Everyone flinched at her scathing remark.
The elderly woman huffed loudly as her sharp gaze swept over all the participating ladies and the elder noblewomen of the court, causing them to lower their heads in deep shame.
Her eyes finally settled on Ariel.
"You there! Young lady in the floral-print dress. Step forward!" she commanded.
Ariel lifted her gaze slightly, walked toward her with effortless poise, and curtsied once more before replying in a sweet, clear voice:
"Yes, Your Esteemed Grace."
The elderly woman looked at her intently before turning to face the crowd.
"I do not think you need to be reminded that a pardoned candidate is considered the absolute last resort in a royal bridal selection competition, correct? You do not possess the right to act as an equal among the esteemed noble ladies participating in this event. If you receive no attention from anyone—including the Crown Prince—you have no right to complain or desperately scramble for his notice. Your duty is to compete, yet remain invisible until he himself chooses to grant you his time. Interfering with the other candidates, engaging in petty brawls, or plotting against them is strictly forbidden for someone of your standing. If discovered, it will result in your immediate disqualification, and you will be barred from marrying any man of noble or royal lineage. Furthermore, your family will be stripped of their title and demoted to common status with immediate effect. Are you aware of this?" the old woman warned sternly.
Ariel clutched the fabric of her dress in quiet, concealed fury before softly replying, "Yes. I am."
"Then do you recognize your offense?" the woman asked, her voice unyielding.
Ariel clenched her hands into tight fists behind her skirt before replying, "Yes, Your Grace."
"Mmm..." the elderly woman hummed thoughtfully. "Good. Since you were not entirely at fault, I shall be lenient—yet the law remains the law. Now, rise and hear your punishment."
Ariel straightened her posture and met her gaze.
Looking at her up close now, Ariel realized the matriarch bore a subtle, unmistakable resemblance to both Daniel and King Reginald.
Her Supreme Eminence, Duchess Dowager Francisca Veronica Merrut—formerly Francisca Veronica Devonte.
She was the late Grand King Gerald Devonte's sister—Daniel's great-great-grandaunt.
Merrut was her married name, acquired through her union with the late Duke Isaac Merrut of Hevonia, now known as Fortshire.
Even though her fief had been besieged by the Dinkleys, she remained a formidable power in the royal court, possessing influence that rivaled the Queen Dowager's own. In essence, she was treated as a second Queen Dowager, and her decree carried just as much weight.
The entire court watched in breathless anticipation, wondering what punishment Ariel was about to receive.
All of them had assumed Lady Catherine would be the one receiving punishment.
No one had anticipated this turn of events.
Everyone braced for the worst—including Ariel.
She knew that this was inevitable.
There were already those who resented her very presence in the competition.
She hadn't expected that one of the vital allies the Queen Dowager had hoped to win over would be the very person seeking to humiliate her.
She shifted her gaze slightly toward Catherine and caught her smirking in triumph.
She then shifted her gaze toward the Queen Dowager.
Alicia met her eyes with a calm, unbothered expression—a silent reassurance that whatever Duchess Francisca was about to decree would not truly harm her position. Seriously.
True to that subtle glance, the Duchess's next words left the entire garden utterly dumbfounded.
"Lady Ariel Fortmore, as your punishment... fetch that bucket of garden manure and show Lady Catherine here what happens to someone who dares to insult a Flambodian right on Flambodian soil."
"HA!"
Incredulous gasps echoed throughout the garden.
Damn. That is cold.
Ariel turned her head to look at Catherine, whose face had drained of all color, turned completely ashen with sheer horror.
She smirked faintly before musing in her mind. 'Guess your nightmare is about to come true, Lady Catherine... this time, quite literally.'
It was going to be a grand spectacle after all.