Elric's visit, while unsettlingly perceptive, had at least served as a distraction from my abysmal etiquette performance. He'd stayed for another half hour, regaling me (and a silently disapproving Beatrice) with more "forgotten" anecdotes of Veronica's past exploits – apparently, besides poodle-singeing, she'd also replaced the sugar with salt at a rival debutante's tea party and "accidentally" released a swarm of bees during a particularly dull sermon. The original Veronica sounded less like a villainess and more like a chaotic evil Loki variant trapped in high society.
"You truly don't remember any of this?" Elric had asked, a genuine note of puzzlement in his voice as he finally rose to leave. "The salt-in-the-sugar incident was legendary! Lady Gwendolyn's face…" He'd shuddered dramatically. "A masterpiece of apoplectic rage."
"My mind is… a bit foggy on past… indiscretions," I'd mumbled, which wasn't entirely a lie.
His FlagVision had flickered again before he left: [Elric Vale: Intrigue Deepens. Theory: Amnesia? Or Deliberate Deception? STATUS: Observation Intensified.]
Great. Now he thought I was either brain-damaged or a pathological liar. Progress!
The rest of the day was dedicated to more intensive "Lady Training" with Beatrice. We covered everything from how to gracefully accept a dance invitation (answer: not by yelling "Hell yeah, let's boogie!") to the subtle art of fan language (which, apparently, was a real thing and not just something out of cheesy historical romances). My brain felt like overstuffed luggage, crammed with useless aristocratic knowledge.
By evening, I was exhausted but marginally more competent. I could now curtsy without looking like a newborn foal, and I could almost hold a teacup without my pinky finger spasming uncontrollably. Small victories.
Dinner was a quiet affair with my… parents. Duke Gregory Everhart was a stern, imposing man with a perpetually furrowed brow, who regarded me with a mixture of paternal concern and distinct suspicion. Lady Celeste Everhart, my mother, was an elegant icicle, all polite smiles and cutting remarks delivered with a devastatingly sweet tone. She spent most of the meal subtly grilling me about my "unusual behavior" and my "sudden clumsiness."
"One might almost think you're not yourself, Veronica dear," she'd said, her perfectly plucked eyebrow arched, mirroring Lucian's earlier expression. It was clearly a family trait.
Above her head, the FlagVision had been disappointingly uninformative: [Lady Celeste Everhart: Maternal Scrutiny Level: High. Suspicion of Daughter's Oddities: Elevated. STATUS: Politely Probing for Weakness.]
No affection percentages there. Just pure, unadulterated noble politics. Lovely.
The next morning, a formal invitation arrived on scented parchment, delivered by a liveried footman.
"Lady Aria Linette requests the pleasure of Lady Veronica Everhart's company for afternoon tea at the Willow Creek Pavilion."
My stomach clenched. Aria. The heroine. The sweet, innocent girl who was probably already halfway to charming the pants off every eligible bachelor in the kingdom, including my fiancé. This was it. The first direct confrontation, albeit disguised as a polite social gathering.
"Willow Creek Pavilion?" I asked Beatrice, who was examining the invitation with a critical eye. "Isn't that… rather out of the way? And famously private?"
"Indeed, My Lady," Beatrice confirmed. "It's often used for… discreet meetings."
Discreet meetings? Or ambushes thinly veiled with scones and Earl Grey?
"She specifically requests your company, My Lady. Alone," Beatrice added, her gaze meeting mine. The unspoken warning was clear: This could be a trap.
My FlagVision decided to chime in, unhelpfully:
[Event Flag Triggered: "The Heroine's Invitation" - Potential for: Allyship Development, Rivalry Escalation, or Information Leak. High Risk/High Reward.]
High risk/high reward? Thanks, Captain Obvious. Could you be a little more specific, magic brain-HUD?
"Well, I can't exactly refuse, can I?" I sighed. "That would be… unladylike. And probably raise more suspicion."
Beatrice nodded. "It would be considered a slight. You must attend. But… be wary, My Lady."
"Wary is my default setting these days, Beatrice," I assured her.
The Willow Creek Pavilion was, as advertised, picturesque and secluded. It was an elegant, open-air structure nestled beside a gently flowing stream, surrounded by weeping willows that cast dappled shadows on the manicured lawn. Aria was already there, seated at a small table laden with delicate porcelain, silver teapots, and an array of tempting pastries. She looked ethereal in a pale blue dress, her honey-blonde hair adorned with a simple ribbon.
She smiled warmly as I approached, her eyes crinkling. "Lady Veronica! I'm so glad you could make it."
Her FlagVision was active, but surprisingly benign:
[Aria Linette: Hope for Friendship +3. Curiosity about Veronica's "Change" +4. STATUS: Tentatively Reaching Out.]
Hope for friendship? That's… unexpected. The original Veronica would have probably tried to push her into the creek by now.
"Aria," I said, managing a curtsy that was only slightly wobbly. Progress! "Thank you for the invitation. This is a lovely spot."
"I thought it would be a peaceful place for us to talk," she said, gesturing for me to sit. "Just us girls."
I sat, trying to arrange my skirts gracefully. "Talk? About what, specifically?"
Aria poured tea – a fragrant jasmine blend – into delicate china cups. "Well, about… everything, I suppose. The court, the upcoming festivals… and perhaps… you, Lady Veronica."
She handed me a cup, her gaze direct and surprisingly earnest. "You've seemed… different lately. Not in a bad way! Just… changed. After your fall at the stables… and even before. It's as if…" she hesitated, searching for the words. "As if a shadow has lifted from you."
My heart skipped a beat. She noticed. Of course, she noticed. She was the heroine, probably attuned to emotional shifts and character development by divine game-designer decree.
"I… suppose I've been doing some reflecting," I said carefully. "Realizing some things about myself."
"That's wonderful!" Aria beamed. "Self-reflection is so important. I've always felt that… well, that perhaps the reputation that preceded you wasn't entirely fair, Lady Veronica."
Reputation? You mean the one about me being a cruel, conniving harpy who delights in the suffering of others and occasionally sets poodles on fire? Yeah, probably not entirely fair to my current, bewildered, dude-self.
"Reputations can be… misleading," I agreed, taking a cautious sip of tea. It was delicious. Annoyingly so.
We chatted for a while about trivialities – the weather (still happening), the latest court gossip (Lady Gwendolyn was apparently still furious about the alleged salt-in-the-sugar incident from years ago), and Aria's plans for the charity bazaar. She was genuinely enthusiastic, her passion for helping others shining through. It was hard not to like her, even knowing she was my primary rival for… well, for not dying a horrible death.
Then, her tone shifted slightly. "Prince Lucian seems… intrigued by you lately, Lady Veronica."
Ah. There it was. The inevitable topic.
"Intrigued?" I asked, trying to sound innocent. "I hadn't noticed." (Liar. His FlagVision had practically screamed "Suspicion Rising!" at me).
Aria smiled, a subtle, knowing little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, I think you have. He watches you. Differently than before."
Her FlagVision flickered: [Aria Linette: Testing Waters - Gauging Veronica's Intentions towards Lucian +5. Underlying Competitiveness +2.]
So much for "Hope for Friendship" trumping all. The game's core conflict was still in play.
"He's my fiancé," I stated simply. "It's natural he'd… observe me."
"Of course," Aria said smoothly. "But his observations used to be… colder. More obligatory. Now, there's a… spark of something else. Curiosity, perhaps. Or…" She paused, tilting her head. "Dare I say, a hint of possessiveness I haven't seen before?"
Possessiveness? From Prince Ice Cube? That was news to me. His affection meter was still firmly in the "mildly annoyed" zone as far as I could tell.
"You're very perceptive, Aria," I said, my internal alarms ringing. This wasn't just idle girl talk. This was a subtle interrogation.
She laughed lightly. "One tries to be. Especially when matters of the heart… and the crown… are involved."
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a confidential whisper, though her smile remained sweet. "You know, Lady Veronica, some might say that a sudden change in demeanor, a sudden… softening… could be a very clever tactic. A way to lull one's rivals into a false sense of security. A way to… reclaim what one believes is rightfully theirs."
The sweetness in her voice was gone, replaced by a chilling undertone. The air around the idyllic pavilion suddenly felt colder.
My FlagVision went haywire:
[Aria Linette: veiled THREAT delivered. Intent: Warn Veronica off Lucian. Competitive Drive: Spiked. STATUS: Heroine's Gentle Facade Cracking - True Colors Emerging?]
[WARNING: "Heroine's Counterattack" sub-plot potentially initiated! Proceed with caution!]
My blood ran cold. This wasn't the innocent, slightly naive heroine from the game's early stages. This was… something else. Sharper. More calculating. Or perhaps the game's AI was adapting to my unexpected presence, forcing Aria to become more aggressive to keep the "story" on track.
She was still smiling, but her eyes were like chips of ice, reflecting the dappled sunlight with a predatory gleam.
"I merely mean, Lady Veronica," she continued, her voice returning to its usual gentle cadence, "that it would be a shame if your newfound… charm… were to inadvertently cause any… misunderstandings. Or disrupt the natural course of things."
The message was crystal clear: Back off Lucian, or else.
I met her gaze, my carefully constructed composure threatening to crack. This was the Aria the game guides had warned about in the "Heroine's Dark Route" – a rare, hard-to-trigger path where her sweetness curdled into something far more dangerous if she felt her destiny was threatened.
And apparently, I, Kaito Aizawa, the accidental villainess, had just stumbled headfirst onto that path.
The scones suddenly looked a lot less appetizing. This tea party had just become a battlefield.