Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 161

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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 161
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Countess Devion.”
“The pleasure is mine, Lady Deborah Simour.”
As I approached, the Countess Devion responded with a bewildered expression and a voice that trembled faintly.
The Devion Family was a newly risen noble house with a shorter history compared to Simour or Basslein. And those from families that had existed for long periods generally tended to look down upon families with shorter histories.
Regardless of my reputation, I was still a lady of a founding family. With so many prominent noble families yet to be introduced, the Countess Devion clearly hadn’t anticipated that her turn to greet me would come so soon.
Those nearby the Countess Devion also gazed at me with astonished expressions. Just as birds of a feather flock together everywhere, the surrounding people were members of newly rising noble families that had recently grown their influence significantly.
They seemed curious about why I had approached the Countess Devion first.
‘Well, because she’s far more useful to me.’
“Lady Deborah Simour, your dress is truly beautiful. I suspect elegant mermaid silhouettes will become fashionable soon.”
The Countess Devion composed herself and spoke with deliberate calm.
“Thank you for the compliment. If you wish, I can connect you with the dress shop I use.”
“Th-thank you so much.”
Since Helen’s dress shop had become the most sought-after in the Capital recently and wasn’t even accepting reservations, undisguised joy appeared on the Countess Devion’s face.
“By the way, I notice that Marquis Devion wasn’t able to attend today. He must be quite busy.”
I spoke while glancing around.
“Yes. During busy seasons like this, the Imperial Administration Office becomes particularly hectic.”
“I had hoped to meet him in person and express my gratitude.”
“Gratitude?”
Marquis Devion was a high-ranking official in the Imperial Administration. His approval in the early days of the Armand venture had made the Clock Tower installation possible.
‘He also helped me bring in ion drinks during the equestrian tournament. I’ve owed him quite a debt in various ways. Though Marquis Devion never knew I was the Trading Company’s owner.’
“Thanks to Marquis Devion’s efforts, I was able to establish beneficial public facilities in two locations within Horun District Square.”
“My goodness! You donated public facilities! How admirable of you to take the initiative in such good works. I’m delighted that the Devion Family could contribute to such beneficial projects led by a lady of your standing.”
The Countess Devion announced my donation loudly while simultaneously elevating her own family’s reputation.
‘Indeed, I chose well.’
I recalled Agate’s words and smiled inwardly.
‘Countess Devion wields considerable influence among the wives of Imperial officials and is the most proactive in promoting her family.’
The nobles around us began to show rapid interest, apparently shocked that someone with my notorious reputation had made such a donation.
“That’s impressive. But what facilities did you donate, Lady Deborah Simour?”
“I donated the Goddess Fountain in Horun District and a large clock tower that rings on the hour before the Magic Tower Fountain.”
“….”
Silence fell at my words.
Their expressions said it all. They found it absurd and ridiculous.
“Lady Deborah Simour, I believe there is only one clock tower before the fountain, and that facility was donated by Armand.”
When a certain young lady immediately refuted my statement, I responded with an air of indifference.
“I am the owner of Armand.”
* * *
At first, when the debutante ball began, the nobles showed the greatest interest in Miya Binoshu.
“Is that the lady who is said to be the hero of Hyanghwa….”
“Yes. Her dress is magnificent too. The way she layered white lace instead of jewels makes her appear even more noble.”
Despite her origins among the fallen nobility, Miya Binoshu demonstrated impeccable etiquette that was beyond reproach.
Yet that was all there was to it. High Society was not a stage for displaying divine magic, and young ladies of Miya Binoshu’s caliber of social acumen were abundant in these circles. What truly astonished the nobility was the sight of the Second Empress—who typically maintained an indifferent demeanor toward all matters—engaging in prolonged conversation with Deborah Simour.
“It appears Deborah Simour possesses quite the gift for discourse?”
“I found myself speaking without pause, unable to stop. She continuously introduced the most fascinating topics. Not only that, but she knew everything from my son’s recent promotion to the name of our family’s founding patriarch.”
Marquis Mislo, who had conversed with Deborah Simour, spoke these words.
“Countess Basslein is hardly without reason her reputation as a pillar of High Society. It seems the young lady received proper instruction under an excellent chaperone.”
Her conversational skill was unexpected enough, but what truly surprised everyone was how seamlessly Countess Basslein and Deborah Simour worked together, despite what should have been an awkward generational divide.
“No matter how excellent a chaperone may be, sustaining prolonged conversation with someone from an older generation requires quick wit, sharp intellect, and extensive knowledge across diverse subjects.”
“That is certainly true.”
After that, Deborah Simour continued to reveal entirely unexpected facets of herself.
‘Why is she skipping introductions to other families and choosing to speak with Countess Devion instead?’
‘I heard the arrogant young lady openly disdains families with short histories….’
Deborah Simour’s endless ability to captivate curiosity drew an ever-growing crowd of observers. And the moment she revealed her charitable endeavors, the reaction exploded like water suddenly boiling over—the temperature rising in an instant.
“Why is there such commotion around where Deborah Simour stands?”
“Apparently the young lady donated public facilities for the public good.”
“A donation?!”
Deborah Simour and charitable work—it felt as incongruous as hearing the phrase “swift tortoise.”
“How peculiar. There should be a plaque bearing the donor’s name in front of any donated facility. How has this fact remained unknown until now?”
“It appears she made the donation under the name of the trading company she operates.”
“She operates a trading company?”
This revelation too made one doubt their own ears.
“Yes. Deborah Simour is apparently the proprietor of Armand, which donated the Clock Tower….”
“How could someone so young, who hasn’t even graduated from the Academy, manage such a large establishment?”
“It’s difficult to believe.”
“I was surprised too. My daughter truly becomes more of a genius the more one learns about her.”
“Heavens, Duke Simour?!”
“What is it? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“A g-ghost, sir! Truly, the young lady is remarkable.”
The nobility froze at Duke Simour’s sudden appearance—a man who typically wore a stern expression and radiated a cold aura—then began responding enthusiastically to his casual boasting.
“So Deborah Simour has finally revealed her hidden card.”
With impeccable timing, Countess Basslein spoke with a satisfied expression.
Now at last she could share with other noblewomen what Deborah Simour had accomplished in the Southern Territory. She could scarcely describe how desperately she had longed to reveal the true worth of this underestimated young lady.
“Did Countess Basslein already know that the young lady operates Armand?”
“Would I have invited her to my territory without reason? The young lady and I share a deeper connection than appearances suggest.”
‘After Simour and Visconti, now even Basslein cherishes the young lady.’
‘How could her standing transform so completely in a single day?’
The family heads and noblewomen attending the debutante ball that evening cast repeated glances toward where Deborah Simour stood, each seeking the opportune moment to engage her in conversation.
‘Again, again, Deborah Simour!’
Without even needing to invoke Duke Visconti, the atmosphere had spiraled entirely beyond control, centering once more on Deborah Simour. Miya’s complexion turned ashen. The Second Empress, renowned for her virtue, had barely spoken with her for five minutes, yet this woman had somehow secured an invitation to a tea party.
‘Why do they not acknowledge me, the saintly one?’
I had always despised those crimson eyes that evoked images of blood, but now, as layers of accumulated inferiority complex rose to the surface, my stomach churned with resentment.
‘Why does she possess everything I desire, yet parade herself as virtuous while spouting nonsense about her charitable donations?’
Miya gnawed at her lips throughout, clenching her fists so tightly that her palms ached.
* * *
The moment I returned from the Imperial Palace after the debutante ball concluded, I collapsed onto my bed.
“I’m exhausted.”
The tension I had maintained throughout the event drained away, leaving me utterly depleted. As the noble daughter of a family devoted to magic, I had been particularly anxious about revealing that I operated a Trading Company—a burden that had kept me on edge the entire evening.
Yet having already established trade routes through the Southern Territory, I could hardly conceal my continued operation of the Trading Company.
‘It would be far worse if someone else spread rumors about me being the Trading Company’s proprietor.’
Rumors, after all, vary drastically in nuance depending on who initiates them and what intentions they harbor.
‘So it’s better that I speak of it myself.’
Moreover, I had disclosed this to Countess Devion with the certainty that she would embellish my charitable endeavors.
‘I’ve already received public gratitude from Simour and been introduced to the Dress Shop, and above all, this will only enhance her husband’s accomplishments.’
With hopes that the rising nobles close to Countess Devion would cultivate favorable public opinion going forward, I slipped beneath the covers.
‘Still, there’s a hunting tournament tomorrow, yet I’m too exhausted to sleep.’
The hunting tournament would apparently involve culling foxes whose population had swelled to the point of disrupting the ecosystem.
Of course, someone as powerless as I was not a participant in such an event. Most hunting tournament attendees were young nobles who either had prior favor or had received game as gifts from young ladies they had helped.
Receiving many gifts of game meant one had cultivated connections and goodwill well.
‘It’s an event entirely unrelated to me.’
With only rumors circulating about how I had castrated a man who came to confess his feelings, and having no particular reason to have treated young nobles kindly, I harbored no expectations whatsoever.
‘Ah, Isidore will probably gift me one.’
I closed my eyes gently, recalling Isidore’s gentle face as he had smiled warmly at me throughout the debutante ball.

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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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