Chapter 89: A Gambit of Wits and Woes

For all her notorious wickedness, she wasn’t completely inflexible—she led her to the dressing room so she could change into pajamas. When Lara had switched into her comfy pajamas and returned to her room, a new guest had arrived.

“Hohoho! Oh my, who might you be?”

Rozally’s voice, high enough to split the sky, boomed through the room. It seemed some kind of spectacle had gathered, with Youngae encircling Rozally. Intrigued, Lara pushed through the crowd to get closer.

Before Rozally stood a familiar silver-haired figure. Cloaked in a garment embroidered with the imperial crest and dressed in a frock adorned with abundant lace, she was none other than Elina II.

“Attending the party in a dress? Honestly, you’ve lost your class.”

‘…No, clearly pajamas look far less dignified…’

“If you were truly His Highness’s betrothed, I expected a measure of decorum. What a blunder! I must have expected too much. Oh hoho, excuse me!”

Indeed, this gathering was designed solely to humiliate Elina II—Kim Bing-ui, to be precise.

Lara regarded Elina II with a mix of curiosity and amusement. Although the heroine was possessed by another realm’s soul, she was still the female lead. Just as Lara wondered how she might escape the mounting crisis, Elina II abruptly began shedding her dress.

At first, Lara thought Elina II had lost her mind in a rage, yet to her surprise, underneath that dress she was wearing pajamas.

“I was too lazy to change fully today. Besides, it was a bit chilly.”

“Hoho, I see.”

Rozally bit her lip as if stung by a sharp rebuke. Lara couldn’t fathom it—like some schoolkid proudly announcing they’re wearing undershirts.

“By the way, it’s almost His Highness’s birthday. What gift do you intend to present, Lady Elina I?”

“I’m planning to give him a hand-stitched handkerchief. Granted, my skills aren’t the best yet.”

As if to prove her point, Elina II lifted her hand. Each finger was wrapped in bandages—apparently from countless needle pricks. It looked as though she had been pricking her own hand rather than fabric.

It was undeniably a gift crafted with blood, sweat, and tears. Even if it wasn’t particularly useful, most male leads adore it when the heroine makes something by hand; Elina II had clearly calculated that.

“Oh my… really? I was going to give a hand-knitted scarf, but hoho, our gifts overlap, it seems.”

The wicked never cease. Noticing Rozally’s sly jab, Elina II’s gaze wavered for a brief moment before she burst into an innocent smile, as though nothing had happened. Her lively tone continued unabated.

“Then let’s wager. Let’s see whose gift will delight His Highness more! Gosh, just the thought is so fun!”

“Hoho, no matter what, His Highness will favor the gift from Lady Elina I.”

“So here’s my plan: We send our gifts anonymously. Fair enough? Jackpot~”

“…!”

A blind test like this was unheard of. In an instant, a devious idea lit up in Rozally’s eyes.

“Ah… that will do. Fine, let’s go for it.”

“Ah, I’m so looking forward to it!”

“But whoever loses must never appear before His Highness again. How’s that? You’re not scared, are you?”

Rozally’s bold proposal momentarily flustered Elina II, but she quickly brushed it off with a sparkling smile. With a confident grin she chirped, “Of course! You have to brace yourself for some fun.”

With only six days until the Emperor’s birthday celebration, a fierce rivalry between the wicked and the heroine was about to erupt.

‘Honestly, one Lilica gacha pull would make him happy…’

Lara quietly made her decision on the perfect birthday gift.

* * *

After a crushing low kick had knocked her out, when Karlahee finally regained consciousness, she found herself back in her own bed. It was obvious someone had moved her—most likely Mikhail’s doing, she thought as she stared at the far-off ceiling.

She longed to go and find her, but she couldn’t. How could she dare show her face after having delivered such a brutal verbal blow about her forced diet? She really had no excuse.

“Lilica, what am I supposed to do?”

Karlahee clutched her soft Dakimakura close. As she pressed her nose into its comforting scent of fabric softener and sighed deeply, a heavy knock resounded at the door.

“Your Highness, are you in there?”

Karlahee’s face immediately darkened. Every night, an uninvited guest would persistently intrude into her room. Though she usually sent them away, tonight the insistent knocking made it seem they weren’t leaving any time soon.

Startled, Karlahee quickly hid her precious Dakimakura under the bed. Whispering promises of returning it soon, she had barely taken a few steps when the door—previously locked—creaked open.

“I knew you’d be in here, hehe.”

Clutching a hairpin, Elina II appeared with a bright, carefree smile. That psycho—Karlahee noted—the woman’s behavior was utterly bizarre. Even as a betrothed, she was entitled to some privacy.

“I popped in because I was bored! Surely Your Highness was bored too, right? Admit it—no objections?”

“…Get out.”

“Have you heard the ‘Sisterhood Era’ theme song? Oh my gosh, you really haven’t? Let me sing it for you. Don’t wait for miracles—just listen!”

“I won’t say it twice. Get out.”

Karlahee grabbed the self-defense sword hanging by her bedside. Even as she unclipped its scabbard with a quiet swish, the silver-haired woman only blinked adorably while casually perching on the bed.

“Wow, that sword is amazing. Is that His Highness’s? Oh wow.”

“Leave immediately or I’ll cut your neck and leave the remains at the palace gate.”

Her voice, chilling enough to evoke images of a tyrant, did nothing to faze Elina II. Instead, she playfully stuck out her tongue, as though she had been waiting for this moment.

“If you kill me, will that ease your mind? Not a chance! I’ll become a vengeful ghost and stick by Your Highness forever!”

“…”

“I’m just joking. Hmm… not funny, huh? Clearly, His Highness doesn’t appreciate a joke.”

‘…Get out, get out, get out, get out!!’

Karlahee mentally swung her sword hundreds of times. She was so irritated and tense that the idea of that cheerful psycho peeking under her bed sent her heart racing. She’d only ever shared this quirky hobby with Lara—how many women in the empire could possibly understand such an odd pastime?

No, she wasn’t seeking understanding. She simply despised the thought of Lilica’s Dakimakura being treated with such contempt. She feared for Lilica if it were ever disrespected.

“For now, put that dreadful thing down! Hurry up.”

Elina II snatched the sword from Karlahee’s hand and dragged him onto the bed. Deciding that compliance was the safest way to avoid getting Lilica in trouble, Karlahee sat down as she was led.

“Well done. Hehe, I always figured Your Highness was fearsome—but he can be surprisingly cute too.”

“Please, just leave… I need some alone time.”

“Oh come on, being together is infinitely more fun than being alone.”

Then she launched into a ramble, unprompted. As her chatter droned on for ten, twenty, thirty minutes, Karlahee’s blood pressure steadily climbed. When it peaked, his face turned stone-gray and his strength ebbed away. It was then that he began to lose consciousness.

“…So, do you know what I said? …Ha, isn’t it hilarious? Truly, it was ridiculously fun. Ah, let me tell you what ridiculously fun even means.”

“…”

“…Huh?”

As quiet descended, Elina II—Kim Bing-ui—turned her head. Beside her lay Karlahee, fast asleep.

With sharply defined features—a prominent nose, pale, exhausted skin, a chiseled jaw, and tightly closed lips—his handsome face exuded a rugged allure. Studying him with delicate fascination, Elina II smiled in satisfaction as she settled beside him.

‘They’ll be so shocked when they see me sleeping next to him in the morning. I wonder if it’s because of me? What an intriguing woman. And he’ll gaze at me tenderly as if nothing happened. Oh, so obvious! So obvious.’

But the next morning, Karlahee refused to open his eyes. Alarmed by his unresponsiveness throughout the day, palace attendants quickly summoned a physician from the Forbidden Imperial Palace, who diagnosed him with a mild cerebrovascular condition. Had it been any later, the consequences could have been dire.

While Karlahee was hospitalized, the birthday ball loomed ever closer.

* * *

On the day of the birthday ball, the ballroom was already packed with nobles. As Lara entered the hall, countless eyes turned towards her. Elegantly attired women—each meticulously groomed to catch the Emperor’s attention—exchanged wary glances at the emerging rival, while eligible young nobles buzzed at the sight of her.

At that moment, one young noble approached Lara casually, a glass of wine in hand.

“I’ve never seen such healthy beauty, my lady. Forgive my intrusion, but may I ask your name?”

“I’m Lara Schmord.”

Blushing shyly, Lara replied. The young noble murmured her name under his breath before his eyes widened in surprise.

“Was that the so-called Orc Youngae…?”

“Who said I was an orc?!!”