The young Lady Camellia de Castillione looked down at Isabella and spoke arrogantly.

“From where I stand, all Isabella has to rely on now is the authority of her father. But being a cardinal… it’s clearly different from the high nobility.”

The word Camellia left out was ‘bastard’. If there was one more omitted word, it would be ‘peasant’.

“Gabriele Della Torre will soon be engaged to the eldest son of the Duke of Montefeltro. It is a marriage arranged by her family. I suppose the most excellent match your parents could arrange would be Count Cesare, right? How do you feel now that he’s been taken away by your younger sister?”

Isabella was in shock. Camellia was not only picking at her wound, but also stating that a bastard could only meet another bastard.

That, that, the woman who used to lick my toes now has gone crazy?

“It would’ve been more reassuring if you had held onto a trustworthy fiancé from the start.”

It was a reference to Octavio standing behind her.

Isabella was so dumbfounded that she involuntarily revealed her true feelings.

“Have you lost your mind?”

Camellia seemed to be upset after being bluntly insulted. Her face turned red for a moment, but she soon corrected her posture in a composed manner, as if to show that she was different from the vulgar Isabella.

“Lady de Mare, you should speak politely and gently. Then you will be respected as a worthy bride. As your birth is your birth, your attitude should be graceful.”

“What?!”

Here it comes. The feeling of a punch.

Between me, a lady with perfect manners, and the scandalous bastardborn Isabella, I’m the better bride, no matter how beautiful Isabella is.

In the sweet sensation of victory, Camellia unknowingly crossed the line against Isabella.

“Oh, right. Miss Isabella didn’t fail to find a groom, but chose not to. You were too busy smiling at this man and that man to settle down with a stable man.”

Normally, Isabella would have expressed to Camellia how much she was hurt, appealed her sorrow pathetically, then met her friends to discuss how wicked Camellia was and handle it that way.

But today, Isabella, who had lost both Prince Alfonso and Count Cesare right in front of her, lost her cool at the provocation of Camellia, who she had considered beneath her.

Twisting her beautiful face mercilessly, Isabella retorted in a sarcastic tone.

“A stable man, are you talking about a trustworthy fiancé like Octavio de Contarini?”

Her petite, slender body radiated anger as she stared straight at Camellia.

“Camellia de Castillione, just because you happened to land a groom who’s above your league, don’t get too carried away. Stay in your place.”

Isabella unloaded a day’s worth of pentup stress on an innocent person. It was a veritable firework of verbal attacks.

“Your fiancé, when I command him to bark like a dog, he barks. When I tell him to lick my shoes, he licks. You think it would be hard for me to take Octavio away from you?”

Isabella looked down at Camellia with a cold expression. She was truly stunning.

Even Camellia, who had been the prettiest lady in the capital before Isabella arrived, seemed too harsh beside Isabella; her eyes too deep, her nose too high, her lips too thick, her waist too wide, and the arrangement of her features too wild.

Isabella placed her perfectly sculpted face near Camellia’s nose and laughed mockingly.

“Haven’t you seen the way your man looks at me?”

Camellia’s gaze faltered. Because Isabella was certainly capable of stealing the attention of any man.

“If I simply lift a finger, Octavio comes running to me. He can’t help it, considering he’s dating someone who looks like you.”

“What did you say?!”

Camellia was so surprised that she shouted. But Isabella kept firing without a care.

“You look like a pig when I look closely. If I looked like you, I wouldn’t be able to eat, worried that I might gain weight every time I look in the mirror.”

Isabella roughly pushed away Camellia’s supporting hand.

“Get your hands off. You insignificant pig.”

Isabella spat out the words, scanning Camellia who was frozen in shock from top to bottom.

“Know your place. Even sewage has its hierarchy.”

She turned abruptly and started striding towards the De Mare family carriage. Camellia De Castiglione was shaking with fury, unable to control her trembling body.

“That, that!”

Indeed, nobody could say that Camellia was behaving kindly. But she had only provoked a little.

Even if she crossed the line, it was merely a dito (about 3.6cm). It was rather Isabella who, without any sense of distinction, rammed into her at full speed.

‘Ugly? I can steal your man anytime? Insults weren’t enough, so you resorted to swearing?!’

Camellia tried to walk away, but it did nothing to make her feel better. Her tightly clenched fists turned pale as blood ceased flowing to them.

“Isabella De Mare, I won’t leave you be! I won’t!”

Her dark eyes flashed red, a sure sign of her intense anger. She had only started a petty quarrel, but ended up with nothing. Trembling, she vowed revenge.