Timid and Shy - Chapter 7

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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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7.

As the debutante ball drew near, every guest room in the Wiscount Estate filled with the family’s relatives. They came and went, exchanging pleasantries with Sophia, but none of them invited her to afternoon tea.
In short, no one from House of Wiscount had any interest in befriending Sophia. Wherever she went, the mansion bustled with people, so she spent her time in the library—the one quiet refuge she could find.
The tour of the Capital would resume after the debutante ball. Mrs. Pine had carefully advised Sophia to prepare for the event.
Sophia was grateful for her concern, but there was truly nothing special she needed to prepare. Still, she chose to remain at the mansion without complaint.
Staying confined to the estate for two straight days proved harder than expected. As they passed her, the relatives whispered among themselves—and their remarks about her appearance never failed to sting.
‘They’re not even Isabel, so why do they carry themselves with such pride? Why do they feel the need to diminish me?’
Having grown up alongside someone as handsome as Alex, Sophia at least had the fortitude to shake off their words.
‘I know I’m not beautiful. So let me think of something else instead.’
In the library, Sophia deliberately chose the most expensive and rare books first. She called for the butler directly, pointed to the precious volumes kept behind glass, and said she wished to read them.
‘I deserve this much. Reading such books is nothing, really. I should be bold enough to ask for them and enjoy them.’
If Wiscount meant to use her, then Wiscount owed her payment for it—in whatever form. The butler’s discomfort was plain to see, yet he had evidently received orders, for he retrieved the books from the glass case at Sophia’s request and displayed them page by page as she wished.
Thanks to this, Sophia read expensive volumes to her heart’s content. Once she finished one, she moved to the next. She tormented the butler this way right up until the eve of the debutante ball.
That was purely the butler’s fault—for no one had thought to leave Sophia alone with such valuable books.

***

The day of the debutante ball.
The heart of any debutante ball was the ballroom dance, and the invited guests didn’t arrive at the Estate until evening. By contrast, Isabel and Sophia—the evening’s principals—were busy from morning.
In fact, only Sophia was truly busy from the start. She bathed for two hours, then spent another two hours and more on her face and hair.
Sophia finished all her preparations by late morning. The female relatives of House of Wiscount, being so gracious, had yielded her that time slot.
While everyone else lingered over a late breakfast at leisure, Sophia had to rise before dawn and begin her preparations.
Isabel, the ball’s true guest of honor, began dressing late in the afternoon. Every aspect of her preparations—her makeup, her hair—was timed so that she would appear radiant and most beautiful the moment she entered the ballroom.
Sophia, having finished her hair and makeup, could not rest comfortably for the rest of the afternoon. She had to sit still in a chair.
Perspiring or moving too much would ruin her hair and makeup, so she sat carefully, turning the pages of a book slowly with her fingertips to pass the time.
As little more than Isabel’s afterthought, Sophia made no complaint. In her heart, she wished to command House of Wiscount’s wealth and servants as she pleased. But she had no desire to quarrel with the female relatives of the Duke’s household.
‘I have no intention of growing close to them either. They are strangers to me. Wiscount is no longer Ariel’s relative. They are enemies now.’
Even the servants attending her could see that Sophia was receiving the most neglectful treatment of anyone at tonight’s ball. They felt sorry for her.
Yet from the household staff’s perspective, between Sophia—whom they might never see again—and the relatives of House of Wiscount whom they would have to see indefinitely, it was only natural they should favor the latter.
The prepared Wiscount relatives and early arrivals mingled freely in conversation. Sophia and Isabel sat in the Waiting Room, counting down the moments until their entrance.
Sophia glanced sideways at Isabel. She was truly beautiful. Sophia found herself thinking that a princess from one of the novels Helen had lent her might have looked exactly like this.
Unbidden, her mother came to mind.
‘Mother must have been just as beautiful in her youth. No—far more beautiful than that.’
Sophia could only ever remember her mother lying in bed. Illness had ravaged her appearance, yet she remained beautiful even so.
Sophia had never once thought it an exaggeration when her father said that when he first saw her mother, he mistook her for an angel.
Though she tried to appear unmoved, tears welled up in Sophia’s eyes. Perhaps it was because she had spent the entire day watching the Viscount’s Wife hovering around Isabel.
For the first time, Sophia regretted coming to the debutante ball alone.
‘Would it have been so wrong if Father had come with me? How much longer must it be before I have the chance to dance with my father’s hand in mine?’
But the Fiefdom’s affairs kept him busy, and Sophia could not ask him to journey to the Capital over something so trivial. Philip approached Sophia, who sat alone. He spoke.
“You seemed so at ease a moment ago—but now that it’s time to make your entrance, I suppose the nerves are catching up with you.”
“I suppose they are. I felt fine until just now.”
Seeing Sophia’s expression on the verge of tears, Philip began to offer comfort, then stopped. When he thought of what was about to happen, he realized anything he said now would be meaningless.
Philip spoke to Sophia.
“There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’ll have someone come to escort you shortly.”
Philip thought to himself.
‘You won’t have anything difficult to bear. Robert will be the one bearing the burden.’
The ballroom fell suddenly silent—so noticeably that even Sophia and Isabel, waiting in the Waiting Room, could sense it. Isabel drew a deep breath and straightened her posture. Sophia listened carefully to the sounds of the ballroom.
‘A dignitary has entered.’
Moments later, the Waiting Room door opened, and the Duke of Wiscount appeared, bringing two people with him. The man with golden hair and a bright smile was Prince Frederick. Behind him came a man with brown hair and a dark, melancholy expression—Prince Robert.
Upon seeing Isabel’s face, Prince Frederick’s smile deepened. He took Isabel’s hand and spoke.
“The Duke of Wiscount has asked me to serve as escort to his daughter. Would you do me the honor of allowing me that privilege?”
Isabel, her fan held demurely before her mouth, nodded shyly. Prince Frederick, elated, drew her hand up onto his arm.
Prince Robert stood searching, his eyes darting about as though looking for someone. His brown hair kept slipping forward as he repeatedly pushed it back with rough, agitated movements.
Anyone could see he was angry. Yet Isabel and Prince Frederick seemed to exist in another world entirely; Prince Robert appeared invisible to them.
‘Isabel is supposed to be close to Prince Robert, isn’t she?’
Sophia glanced at Prince Robert once, then back at the pair. In that moment, Sophia finally understood her role for the evening.
‘I’m not the supporting actress. I’m Prince Robert’s trap.’
Prince Robert didn’t notice until he arrived at the Wiscount Estate, and when he did, his confusion and anger were plain as day. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to conceal them.
Sophia bowed first toward Prince Robert.
“I am Sophia. Through the Viscount’s Wife’s kindness, I have had the honor of making my debut alongside Miss Isabel Wiscount.”
Prince Robert returned her greeting reluctantly.
“Robert Uranos.”
He stated only his name, then at a cue from the Duke’s attendant, reluctantly placed Sophia’s hand on his arm.
Sophia wanted to explain to Prince Robert why she had become his partner, but he seemed too distracted to listen.
When Sophia’s name was announced at the ballroom, Prince Robert escorted her inside. Next came the announcement of Miss Isabel Wiscount, and Prince Frederick escorted her in.
When Sophia and Prince Robert made their entrance, all that could be heard was murmuring. By contrast, when Isabel and Prince Frederick entered, applause and cheers erupted.
‘So they filled every room with Wiscount relatives for this.’
The face of Prince Robert, glimpsed from the corner of her eye, looked dark as pitch to Sophia.
Isabel, who was known for her vivacity, would be unforgettable to anyone who saw her. So many dressmakers and jewelers had come and gone, and she even had a governess.
Yes—the rumors about Isabel’s appearance had been deliberately spun differently from the truth, all for today’s moment.
‘Raising expectations by calling herself the artists’ muse, then spreading rumors that lowered expectations to absurd levels, stirring up controversy, and then stunning everyone the moment Isabel appears… This must be the Viscount’s Wife’s strategy—the one that captivated the Duke.’
Everyone was watching Isabel tonight. Who could deny that she was the artists’ muse? Sophia and Prince Robert seemed unable even to serve as backdrop to Prince Frederick and Isabel.
In one corner of the ballroom, people spoke in hushed tones while glancing sympathetically at Sophia. Though they had accepted the Wiscount’s invitation, they harbored no fondness for House Wiscount.
Sophia spotted a beautiful young woman at the center of their group. At a glance, it was plain to see whose favor they were trying to curry. She turned to Prince Robert with a question.
“Is that young lady Parma Carlis?”
Prince Robert answered in a clipped tone.
“Sharp of you. Yes, Parma Carlis. She likely wouldn’t have come at all if it weren’t for Prince Frederick.”
“But now Prince Frederick won’t leave Isabel’s side, so she must be in poor spirits.”
“Exactly. That’s why the people around Parma keep glancing at us and wagging their tongues—to lighten her mood.”
“Ah! If her spirits lift so easily from that, I fear Miss Carlis will prove disappointing.”
“They have to do something. These hangers-on have nothing better to do than cater to the young lady’s whims.”
“Soon Isabel will have to lead her own circle and compete with Miss Carlis, won’t she?”
“Likely. She’ll need to cultivate a better class of followers than Carlis has. The reason Isabel has delayed entering society so long is precisely this—one cannot simply ignore such people. For Houses like Wiscount or Carlis, it’s necessary to lead them, not dismiss them.”
As Sophia watched Prince Robert grieve while worrying for Isabel, she felt a pang of sympathy for him.
“It does sound arduous. But I suspect Isabel will manage beautifully. Soon people will be buzzing with talk of Prince Frederick and Isabel, and crowds will gather around her.”
Robert smiled bitterly and spoke.
“Yes. That’s how it will be.”
Sophia wondered whether the Wiscount, having paired her with Prince Robert, intended for this to be the extent of it.
Isabel was greeting people shyly, and Prince Frederick stood at her side beaming from ear to ear.
Anyone could see that Prince Frederick appeared thoroughly pleased with his position.
Prince Robert, by contrast, stood at Sophia’s side staring intently at Isabel and Prince Frederick. When Philip appeared in the ballroom, Prince Robert spoke to Sophia.
“I’ll be back shortly.”
Sophia could roughly guess what Prince Robert meant to discuss with Philip.
‘Originally, Prince Robert must have been meant to escort Isabel. But now that I’m here, Prince Frederick stands at her side. What will Philip say?’
Sophia did not yet know that her misfortune had not finished running its course.
Soon the music began, and the center of the ballroom cleared. Prince Frederick approached Isabel, dropped to one knee, and took her hand. Sophia found herself thinking.
‘Is he really asking for a dance with such theatrical excess?’
The first dance at a debutante’s presentation was called the First Dance of high society, and one’s partner did matter. Yet Prince Frederick’s gesture seemed overabundant.
Isabel flushed and shyly took his hand.
‘A different person. Not the same woman from that dinner table.’
To Sophia, Prince Frederick’s behavior looked no less theatrical than Isabel’s—as if he were playing the role of a prince from a stage play. Yet the others seemed to feel differently; gasps of admiration could be heard from all corners.
‘Lucky I didn’t quarrel with the Wiscount relatives. Look at the grand affair they’re orchestrating.’
The atmosphere was uncannily like an engagement party for Isabel and Prince Frederick. Their dance began. Sophia, too, would soon need to join in. Nominally at least, this was also Sophia’s debut into society.
Sophia, too, needed to dance her first dance in high society.
Yet no matter how long she waited, no partner appeared. Philip, who might have stood in for Prince Robert, was nowhere to be seen either. Sophia searched the ballroom and its entrance, looking for her partner.
‘If neither of them comes, send someone else.’
She looked for the Viscount’s Wife, but found her surrounded by ladies of rank, watching Isabel and Prince Frederick.
A moment later, Prince Robert appeared behind Sophia, his expression grim.
“I am not in the mood to dance tonight. Please excuse me.”
With only those words, Prince Robert left the ballroom entirely. For some time afterward, the whispers about Prince Robert’s departure and Sophia did not cease.
‘A formal refusal and an escape… Is that worse? I’d rather he just didn’t come back at all.’

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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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