Chapter 3.

  Tea, Silk, and Poisoned Smiles.

  "The Empire's Founding Festival, huh? What a headache," Elisa murmured to herself.

  She sat within the velvet-lined confines of the carriage, with Sia perched on the seat opposite her. They were venturing into the heart of the Capital's market district, yet Elisa's mind was miles away.

  "My Lady, are you quite alright?" Sia asked, her tone weary and laced with concern.

  Elisa remained staring out the window, the question drifting past her ears unheard. The market was a sea of people, far more congested than usual. With the Founding Festival a mere month away, the city was shedding its winter skin for celebratory garb.

  The narrow streets were meticulously decorated, and the heavy scent of spiced meats and roasting chestnuts hung thick in the air, seeping through the carriage vents. Stalls of every size lined the thoroughfares, their awnings bright and inviting.

  "M... My Lady!" Sia said, giving Elisa's shoulder a gentle shake.

  Elisa blinked, her senses returning to the present. "Oh... forgive me. I was merely lost in the view."

  "Please, My Lady, tell me truly," Sia said, reaching out to take Elisa's hand. Her voice was steady with loyalty but frayed with worry. "Are you alright?"

  Alright? I am many things, but 'alright' is certainly not one of them, Elisa thought. Aloud, she tilted her head slightly. "Why? Do I seem so troubled to you, Sia?"

  "No, it isn't that... I simply fear the stress the Foundation Festival might bring upon you."

  "Hmm. It matters little whether I wish it or not," Elisa sighed, leaning back against the cushions. "Attendance is mandatory for every noble and aristocratic house. To decline is to invite a charge of treason from the Imperial family."

  As they spoke, the carriage slowed to a crawl before jerking to a final halt.

  "Now what?" Sia pulled back the curtain, peering out.

  The driver rapped softly on the window before opening the door. "My humble apologies, My Lady, but I fear the carriage can go no further. The road is completely choked by the crowds ahead."

  "Is there no alternate route?" Sia pressed.

  "None, Lady Sia. This is the primary artery into the main market."

  Elisa peered at the throng of people. The crowd was indeed immense. If they were to reach their destination on time, she would have to rely on her own two feet.

  "Sia, let's go."

  Sia looked nervous, her grip tightening on her skirt. "But My Lady, the Daren Boutique is still a mile from here. Stay in the carriage; the driver and I will find another way or fetch a different transport."

  Elisa shook her head. "No, Sia. A mile is a trifling distance. Besides, we can take in the sights of the market on our way." She offered a small, fleeting smile.

  Sia sighed heavily, defeated. "Very well, then."

  At Elisa's nod, Sia retrieved a crossbody bag from the carriage. Elisa pulled two tin coins from her purse and handed them to the driver. "Get yourself something to eat while we are away."

  ***

  "Oh, goodness! My Lady, look at that!" Sia's eyes danced with delight. As they delved deeper into the district, the market grew increasingly opulent, shimmering with the vibrant colors of silk and gold leaf.

  "Control yourself, Sia. We aren't here for sightseeing. Walk faster, or we shall be late."

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  "Oh, right. Sorry," Sia mumbled around a mouthful of a meat skewer she had bought from a passing vendor.

  After a brisk walk, they reached the storefront of Daren Boutique. It was the premier establishment for noblewomen, owned by Marchioness Elle Daren—the undisputed sovereign of High Society fashion.

  A guard stood like a stone sentinel at the entrance. As Elisa moved to enter, his halberd crossed the path, blocking her way.

  "State your name, My Lady," the guard commanded.

  A new face, Elisa noted.

  "What is the meaning of this?" Sia cried out, her voice sharp with indignation.

  "Commoners are not permitted within," the guard stated stoically, his eyes raking over Elisa's simple attire.

  What a fuss... is it truly the dress? Elisa wondered. She had chosen it for comfort during their walk, but it seemed that in this den of vipers, one was judged by the weight of their hemline. Had I known, I would have worn the most expensive silk in the wardrobe.

  "Unless you provide a name, you shall not pass," the guard repeated.

  "Elisa. Elisa Nirvana," she replied with a tired sigh.

  The guard let out a sharp scoff, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Sia flinched, her fists clenching at her sides.

  How dare this cur laugh at her lady?

  "Do you have a death wish, or are you merely eager to lose your livelihood?" Elisa asked, her voice dropping to a cold, predatory whisper as she fixed him with a piercing stare. "Perhaps your head would look better separated from your shoulders."

  The guard flinched, the color draining from his face. He quickly retreated, offering a deep, trembling bow.

  "Know your place, you filthy man," Elisa threw over her shoulder as she stepped inside.

  Ding-dong. A delicate silver bell announced their arrival.

  The interior was a temple of luxury. Mirrors lined every wall, and the lighting was designed with such precision that every woman who walked through the door appeared radiant.

  Every time I visit, it becomes more garish, Elisa thought, her expression impassive.

  "Welcome, My Lady. Please, follow me to the waiting room," a staff member said, gesturing toward a plush salon.

  As Elisa entered, she found herself under the scrutiny of several other noblewomen, all roughly her own age.

  "Oh, my! What a divine grace has befallen us," one lady, Keeta, announced. Her voice was thick with sarcasm.

  "Greetings, Lady Keeta," Elisa replied politely, moving toward the seating area.

  Keeta Ranen, daughter of Marquis Ranen and a reputed confidante of the Crown Princess, was the undisputed leader of this small circle.

  "Oh... I am terribly sorry, Lady Elisa," Keeta said, her eyes glinting with malice. "As you can see, there isn't a single seat left."

  The sofa was clearly large enough, but the ladies had spread their skirts wide, claiming every inch of velvet to ensure Elisa had nowhere to sit.

  Are they children? Elisa wondered, the atmosphere growing increasingly stifling. "Do not trouble yourselves, Lady Keeta. I shall make do with that chair over there."

  Elisa sat down on a solitary wooden chair, Sia standing loyally at her side.

  "Haha... look at her. What a humble little rag she's wearing," one girl whispered.

  "The Nirvana family is truly finished," another added. "To think the 'Great Beauty' Elisa is now known only as the 'Beauty with Dirty Desires.'"

  A pack of hyenas, Elisa thought, leaning back and ignoring them. Why waste energy on those who offer no utility?

  Sia, however, was trembling with rage. Her nails dug into her palms so hard they left crimson crescents. Elisa reached out and squeezed the girl's hand.

  "Calm yourself, Sia. It is alright. It is a lady's job to gossip, and yours to ignore them. They are doing their work well; you must do yours."

  Sia's trembling subsided, but the storm in her eyes remained.

  "Oh, Marchioness Elle is here!" Keeta chirped.

  "Greetings, My Lady," the ladies chorused, offering elegant bows as the Marchioness entered.

  "My Ladies, you are the pride of my boutique. It is through you that my creations find their true glory," Elle said, her voice smooth as silk.

  "Oh, Lady Elle, you are too kind. We have so much to learn from you," Keeta replied.

  "Greetings, My Lady," Elisa added her voice to the room.

  Elle turned, her eyes cooling instantly. "Oh. You are here as well, Lady Elisa?"

  "I am."

  "I heard you walked here. On foot. Through the market. How many miles was it?" Elle asked, her tone dripping with feigned concern.

  "A mile, perhaps," Elisa answered softly.

  "Haha! Oh, I feel for you, Lady Elisa," Keeta mocked. "Has your father become so destitute he cannot afford even a small carriage for his daughter?"

  She is trying to instigate a scene. How tedious, Elisa thought. "I suspect you don't know the length of a mile, Lady Keeta. It is quite a short distance if one has the legs for it."

  "Why would I ever walk? I am a noble," Keeta scoffed.

  "My Lady had to walk because the road were blocked," Sia interrupted, unable to stay silent. "We did arrive by carriage."

  "Oh, you mean those filthy commoners whose stench fills the air?" Keeta gave Elisa a look of pure disgust. "A few lashes usually clears a path through that rabble soon enough."

  "Well, Lady Elisa won't have to worry about that for long," another girl giggled. "After the Festival, she'll likely be one of those commoners herself."

  Clap, clap. Marchioness Elle struck her palms together, cutting through the tension.

  "Now, let us see the dresses. Serve the tea and cookies," Elle commanded. "And Lady Elisa... do be patient."

  Hours passed. Elisa sat in her corner while the other ladies gossiped and sipped tea. Not a single dress was tried on, and no refreshments were offered to the corner where Elisa sat.

  "Oh, Lady Elle, how could you forget to serve Lady Elisa her tea?" Keeta said suddenly. She poured a steaming cup and walked toward Elisa. But as she reached her, she 'tripped,' sending the hot liquid splashing directly onto Elisa.

  "Ahh!" Elisa jumped from her chair. The tea wasn't boiling, but it was hot enough to sting. She looked down at her damp bodice and her reddened hands.

  She fixed Keeta with a gaze of pure, unadulterated fury. This bitch.

  Keeta flinched, her legs wobbling as she saw the raw anger in Elisa's golden eyes. Sia rushed forward, frantically dabbing at Elisa's dress with a handkerchief, tears welling in her eyes.

  "Have you lost your mind?" Sia screamed at Keeta. "If My Lady is scarred by this, what will you do?"

  "Calm down, Sia. I am fine," Elisa said, her voice eerily steady as she turned back to Keeta.

  "It was a mistake, Lady Elisa! I was merely trying to be a friend and bring you tea, but I slipped," Keeta stammered.

  Elisa said nothing. She let out a long, weary sigh and walked toward Elle. "My Lady, please assign a staff member to me. I am running late."

  Elle didn't even look up. "Lady Elisa, you know my terms. We do not serve commoners or fallen houses." She paused, a mocking smirk finally breaking through her mask. "And your reputation... it is quite damaged. I have no wish to see my designs associated with a name like yours."

  Elisa flinched. She looked elle with fierce gaze. But she tried to compose herself-

  "Ha... haha... very well, then," Elisa scoffed. She straightened her back, her face returning to a mask of stoic calm, though a sharp smirk played on her lips.

  The ladies in the room flinched. They had expected tears or a tantrum, not this chilling amusement.

  "You have all entertained yourselves quite thoroughly today," Elisa said. "Until next time."

  She turned and swept out of the boutique. Once outside, the humiliation finally stung, but she kept her head high. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small, weathered card.

  Alley 202, Backward District. Shop 307. Wild Dog Investigation Bureau.

  "It is time to place the pieces on the board," Elisa whispered to the wind.

  Q1. On a scale of 1 to 10, how badly do you want to see Elisa ruin Lady Keeta’s reputation at the ball?

  Q2. What do you think the "Wild Dog" bureau specializes in—information, assassination, or something even darker?