“Starting today, I will be serving Lady Ariste, and my name is Rosa.”

Liz’s exclusive maid had been assigned.

A woman in her thirties with black hair tinged with blue and azure-colored eyes was appointed for the role.

‘Thirties… She’s nearly the same age as Mirabel.’

However, the only commonality between her and Mirabel seemed to be their age.

Compared to the gentle and warm Mirabel, this woman had a cold and stern impression, matching her dry voice.

“Lady Ariste will also receive etiquette education to possess the dignity befitting the position of the Empress.”

“Education… what?”

‘You didn’t mention anything like that! You said sitting in the position of the Empress was all that was needed!’

Liz felt like she had received a heavy blow to the back of her head.

“We have received reports from within the palace about Lady Ariste and her family.”

Meanwhile, the dry maid’s words continued.

“She seems to have been quite loved and well-raised.”

“…?”

It was the first time Liz had heard such words. Being loved and well-raised?

“What might I be misunderstanding?”

“It’s a statement from Marchioness Morsen, who served as Lady Ariste’s maid in Saga. She seems to have taken quite good care of her with top-notch education.”

“Ah…”

If we only consider Mirabel… yes, those words were true.

“I apologize for bringing up such matters, but it’s better not to expect such care here.”

Rosa’s voice took on an even more austere tone.

“The position of the Empress is not one where you can act whimsically. That’s why I will train Lady Ariste to befittingly fulfill the role of the Empress.”

‘What’s this stern development?’

Was there such content in the original work? I read it quickly, and I don’t remember it well, but it seems like it wasn’t there.

Perhaps Lilia, being perceptive and excellent at socializing, didn’t need such education or training; she might not have known it was necessary.

“So, what do I do from now on?”

“You will learn from the basics.”

“Basics?”

“Your expressions.”

“…?”

“Lady Ariste, your emotions are too easily displayed on your face. It’s not suitable for someone ascending to the position of Empress. You shouldn’t let others know what you’re thinking or feeling. It’s like showing your hand in a card game. You must keep what you’re thinking or feeling a secret from others.”

It seemed like I had heard something similar from Mother before.

‘Men wear armor on the battlefield, and women must surround themselves with hypocrisy in social circles. That’s the only way to protect yourself from those noble hypocrites who will try to expose any weaknesses.’

Now, I realize my mother had as much experience as her age suggested.

Only, her boasting was stronger than her experience.

While Rosa was away preparing tea, Liz stared intensely into the mirror.

Now she really wanted to check if her face truly revealed emotions as the woman had said.

‘No, it doesn’t.’
The raised eyebrows, the prominent nose, and the firmly closed lips did not seem to yield to any influence.

“But that’s because there’s no stimulation at the moment.”

Liz gave up the meaningless eye battle with the desk mirror. Then, she turned her gaze to the window.

Beyond the glass, the golden dome of Frenay Main Palace, where Hershies was, came into view. It was a roof shining brilliantly, reflecting the sunlight in a diagonal line.

However, contrary to that brilliance, Liz felt like she was shrinking.

Liz couldn’t erase the thought that she was sitting in a position too grand for her. She was afraid of being a hindrance to Hershies with her clumsy behavior.

“Empress. The Empress in waiting.”

It still felt like a dream.

A dream that she hoped would stop now… A dream.

“Sigh…”

“Do not sigh!”

A sharp reprimand struck Liz’s mind like a hammer.

“Facial expression management should continue whether there are people around or not.”

It was a stern voice.

However, it wasn’t Rosa’s voice. It was different in thickness, and the severity was much different.

Liz couldn’t help but be surprised at the identity of the voice reflected in the mirror.

“You are…”

With wide-open eyes, Liz turned around, and the man greeted her with a simple salute. Rosa, who was standing next to him, introduced him.

“Marquis Valdemion.”

Liz greeted him with a composed expression.

“It’s been a while, Lord Isar.”

That name was more familiar to Liz.

Isar Rodem Neelgried Valdemion.

The youngest treasurer and the right-hand man of Emperor Hershies.

The 14th successor of the Valdemion Marquis, known for its distinctive elegance and detachment among the reed-like families that sway easily in the political stream.

And…

The man who made beef stew for her a season or two ago.

“Seeing you here like this, you look quite different from back then.”

Liz said. It was certainly true.

This elegant silver-haired man, symbolized by the blue chest belt representing the high nobility, looked significantly different from the man who treated me to beef stew that day, wearing a gaudy shirt and loose pajamas.