For the Lady's Wise Regression - Chapter 78

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 78
A voice so low it made the chest reverberate rolled through the banquet hall.
It was a different tone from when she had faced Ian days ago.
Just one word.
Yet it pinpointed the silence of every soul in the room.
Ian bowed his head, and Vanessa followed, gathering her skirts as she lowered her head deeply.
“We greet the Golden Lion of The Empire.”
When Ian, the highest-ranking noble present, opened his mouth, the other aristocrats behind him answered in unison.
As if on cue, the orchestra began the opening overture of the ball.
The soft melody eased the nobles’ rigid bodies. They resumed their ordinary expressions, as though they had forgotten the commotion of moments before.
Or rather, they tried to forget. It was as good as an indirect command from the Emperor.
On one side, business matters were discussed; on another, the season’s new gowns. Elsewhere, a Social Club gathering convened, and in yet another corner, ladies of rank clustered together in hushed conversation.
The problem was that Vanessa Sharoze belonged to none of it.
She was too married to fit among her peers, and too young for the matrons.
In her past life, she had rarely attended such balls, always watching her mother-in-law’s mood—and Social Etiquette was the one thing Vanessa least trusted herself with.
But there was a larger reason. After what had just transpired, no one dared approach her readily.
Inevitably, even as the ball began, she lingered uneasily at Ian’s side.
Whether by fortune or timing, Marquis Leonard’s Wife seized the moment of the Emperor’s entrance and smoothly drew Calail into the circle of the matrons.
Or rather, the matrons had gathered around her.
‘Already?’
Vanessa studied the gathered ladies’ faces.
Every last one was someone Marquis Leonard’s Wife had maintained connections with in her past life.
“Vanessa.”
A soft voice fell from above her head.
Somehow, only she and Ian remained in the center of the hall.
“Oh, forgive me. Should I go greet them?”
Vanessa naturally stepped back a pace.
Ian, who had been watching her, glanced at Tesse and Kirious conversing in the distance, then returned his gaze to her.
“You—”
The question was where she would go.
Conversely, it sounded like asking whether she had a group to join.
“If you don’t mind.”
Ian extended his hand.
Vanessa regarded the hand offered to her, then turned away with a gentle smile.
She was no longer the young lady of House Sharoze—she was now the lady of House Ruscliffe, and where she walked had to change with it.
Tap, tap. Even in the tumultuous space, her gait was flawless as she moved toward her destination.
It was a direct advance toward the tea table set deepest within the banquet hall, where the matrons sat looking out over the center of the room—toward Marquis Leonard’s Wife.
“I’ve been hearing rumors that the Eastern Empire will raise silk prices soon. Once he returns from completing this trade, it should become clearer.”
“Technology never lasts forever, but the terrain must be difficult. I hear they still keep failing at cultivation in the Pommeldt Street Mountainous Area.”
“A new spice just arrived from the Southern Region. Nutmeg and pepper, they call them. He brought some for me especially, and they taste nothing like chili.”
“In the Western Empire, lime tea is all the rage these days, but I found it too tart for my palate. Better than lemon tea, though.”
“By the way, that Eastern Empire etiquette teacher is quite capable. My grandson turned eight this year, so I hired her, and she’s quite competent.”
The closer one drew, the higher the quality of conversation.
Silk trade, spices, tea, etiquette instructors.
Raw information not yet printed in any gazette passed among them—and that was what made them formidable.
“I heard a new medicinal herb was discovered near a cave deep within the Snowood Mountain Range, though no one has yet confirmed whether it’s a variety of Jeongjeong Flower.”
At Marquis Leonard’s Wife’s remark, the white-haired old lady seated at the center shifted her gaze.
“You certainly are well-connected.”
“How do you do. I am Vanessa Ruscliffe.”
The moment the talk turned to Jeongjeong Flowers, Vanessa greeted them—an accident to them, perhaps, but not to her.
“If I may be so bold, might I trouble you ladies to share some of your wisdom?”
“…The lady makes a bold choice.”
Baroness Magrita greeted her with a smile.
“A child who knows propriety, I see.”
The old lady with her white hair neatly pinned up and wearing no ornament whatsoever—dressed plainly—regarded Vanessa intently.
“Magrita.”
At the old lady’s word, Baroness Magrita quietly gestured with her eyes to the empty seat beside her.
It was a seat where one faced direct scrutiny.
Whether by what calculation she was not being turned away, the intention was transparent.
Vanessa smiled gently while coldly assessing the situation.
She’d mentioned the Jeongjeong Flower openly, knowing I was coming.
It was Marquis Leonard’s Wife’s way of signaling that her information network surpassed mine—despite my position as Duchess of Ruscliffe.
In other words: *Don’t you pay attention to what happens in your own house?*
I’d taken a blow before even sitting down. I had to be careful.
Should I openly deflect the old woman’s gaze, or…?
Vanessa read the tense shift in an instant and greeted them softly, settling into an empty chair. She straightened her spine and angled her body forty-five degrees—a natural, graceful pivot.
From Marquis Leonard’s Wife’s vantage point, the center of the hall would be obscured. The old woman’s view, on the other hand, opened up completely.
“Call me Grandmother. I’m past the age of showing off titles.”
“Yes, Grandmother.”
Vanessa bowed her head gently.
The highest rank in the room belonged to the youngest person present.
Whether or not that fact grated on the noblewomen’s nerves, their expressions all turned sour.
“Try this. My granddaughter, studying abroad in the Eastern Empire, sent it as a gift.”
She offered tea that wasn’t from the imperial stores but brought as personal property—as casually as if it were nothing.
In that gesture alone, Vanessa understood: this old woman was someone even the Emperor couldn’t treat carelessly.
Vanessa accepted the cup quietly and took a sip.
“The flavor is quite deep. And at the finish, there’s something like bitter chocolate, isn’t there?”
At her words, fine lines deepened around the old woman’s mouth.
“It’s called coffee.”
Coffee. Vanessa let the word roll across her tongue.
The aftertaste was clean, without any harshness. She wasn’t fond of bitter things, but this wasn’t bitter so much as richly substantial. And…
‘It would pair well with dessert. Ian would love this.’
The moment that thought crossed her mind, Vanessa’s eyes flickered.
Was she losing her mind? Why was she thinking of him now, here?
Noticing the shift in Vanessa’s expression, Grandmother pushed a small plate toward her.
It was something you wouldn’t find among the desserts laid out at ordinary gatherings.
“My granddaughter sent this along as well.”
Granddaughter. That word made Vanessa’s hand falter.
Vanessa carefully speared a small piece of the precisely cut dessert with her fork and placed it in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“It’s not very sweet, is it?”
“At my age, one develops different tastes.”
She’d never seen anything like it in her past life either—it was almost like discovering something entirely new.
As Vanessa examined it with obvious fascination, an explanation followed: a confection made by finely grinding red beans, pressing them into a mold, and setting them into shape.
“It’s called yokan.”
Yokan. Vanessa tested the word on her tongue once more.
Coffee and yokan—both products of the Eastern Empire. If Grandmother were simply trying to display informational superiority at a gathering called to gain wisdom, it bothered her that she wouldn’t even name these things.
“A pleasure for the palate, truly. Such generous hospitality leaves me at a loss for words.”
The old woman laughed softly at Vanessa’s remark.
“I’m glad it suits your taste, Vanessa.”
Behind her smile lay a blade sharp as frost.
Not as a lady, not as a young noblewoman, not as Duchess of Ruscliffe—just “Vanessa.”
It was a precise jab at her error.
A silent reproach: *Did you arrive without even understanding what this gathering was?*
The noblewomen around them let out small, delighted laughs.
Baroness Magrita simply sipped her tea in silence, while Marquis Leonard’s Wife continued to regard Vanessa steadily—fan held to her lips, the fan she’d used to strike Calail’s hand.
Fan held to her lips, the fan she’d used to strike Calail’s hand.
“I’m grateful for your gracious correction, Grandmother.”
Vanessa set down her cup and met the old woman’s gaze directly.
“My eagerness led me to overstep. I came here despite my rudeness because I sought instruction—but if I may, I’d like to stay a little longer? The lessons you’ve offered are still difficult for me to understand on my own.”
She acknowledged her mistake plainly and even showed the inexperience befitting her youth.
Grandmother, who had been studying Vanessa intently, smiled softly.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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