Eleanor sat at the edge of the ballroom, her soaked gown clinging uncomfortably to her skin. The cold seemed to seep into her bones, and the whispering nobles weren't helping. Every laugh, every snide glance, felt like a dagger in her pride.
This is ridiculous, she thought, suppressing the urge to groan. Her humiliation was complete, and it was all thanks to the System's absurd quest. She crossed her arms, glaring at the floor as if it could somehow undo the evening's disaster.
If not for that stupid task, she wouldn't have thought to pull such a reckless stunt. But deep down, she knew blaming the System was pointless. It was her only lifeline in this new life. Without it, she wouldn't have a chance to succeed here.
Eleanor's patience snapped when a particularly loud snicker reached her ears. She rose abruptly, ignoring the dizziness from standing too quickly. "Greta," she said, her voice tight.
The maid appeared at her side instantly. "My lady?"
"I need some air."
The garden's night breeze offered a small reprieve, though Eleanor's gown clung to her like a wet rag. She found a secluded bench at the farthest end of the garden, hidden from prying eyes. Greta followed her closely, her expression worried but silent.
Eleanor sank onto the bench, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "You must think I'm an idiot, Greta."
The maid hesitated before replying, "I think, my lady, that tonight has been… challenging."
A short laugh escaped Eleanor. "You're too kind. Challenging is one word for it."
Greta hesitated before speaking again. "If you're uncomfortable, my lady, we could return home. Your parents—"
"Would know the moment I step through the door," Eleanor finished for her. She sighed, leaning back. "No, Greta, not yet. I need a few minutes to myself."
Greta nodded, standing a respectful distance away.
Eleanor let the silence wash over her, staring at the stars peeking through the night sky. After a moment, she turned to Greta, her voice soft. "How does one make someone laugh?"
The maid blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. "I… suppose it depends, my lady. People laugh for many reasons. Some find joy in honesty, in seeing someone be true to themselves. When it's genuine, laughter comes naturally—no effort needed."
Eleanor considered Greta's words. Was she trying too hard? Was her desperation to complete the quest overshadowing the very thing she needed—authenticity?
Before she could delve deeper into the thought, laughter echoed from the path behind her. The sound was unmistakable: Lady Seraphine.
Seraphine approached, flanked by two of her ever-present minions, Lady Caroline and Lady Vivienne. Their laughter subsided as they spotted Eleanor, but the smug smiles remained firmly in place.
"Well, if it isn't our very own fountain sprite," Seraphine drawled, her voice dripping with mockery. "Still drying off, I see."
Eleanor straightened, masking her annoyance with a polite smile. "Lady Seraphine. How lovely to see you enjoying the evening."
"Oh, I'm enjoying it immensely," Seraphine replied, her eyes gleaming with malice. "You certainly provided the entertainment for the night. Quite the splash, wasn't it?"
Caroline and Vivienne giggled, their laughter grating against Eleanor's nerves.
Eleanor refused to take the bait. "An accident, nothing more," she said evenly.
"Accident?" Seraphine's tone was saccharine. "Oh, come now, Eleanor. We both know you were trying to capture the prince's attention. Honestly, it was a valiant effort, if a bit… wet."
Eleanor's pulse quickened, but she kept her face neutral. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, Lady Seraphine. My intention was merely to enjoy the evening. What happened at the fountain was pure misfortune."
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "Of course, darling. But let me offer you a word of advice: don't waste your time. You'll never have a chance with the prince."
The words stung more than Eleanor wanted to admit. But instead of reacting, she tilted her head, her voice calm and steady. "And you think you do?"
Caroline stepped forward, her chin jutting out. "Of course, she does! Everyone knows Lady Seraphine is the perfect candidate for queen."
Eleanor's laugh was soft but deliberate, her eyes glinting with defiance. "Oh? And how sure are you of that?"
Seraphine's smile faltered, her eyes narrowing. "Careful, Eleanor," she warned.
Eleanor stood, meeting Seraphine's gaze without flinching. The two women faced each other, the tension between them palpable.
"Since you're so confident," Seraphine said, her voice low and challenging, "why don't we settle this properly?"
"Settle what?" Eleanor asked warily.
"A challenge," Seraphine said, her smirk returning. "The next gala is in two weeks. Whoever arrives with the prince as her date will win."
Eleanor's heart sank. This was reckless—dangerous even. But before she could decline, the System's voice chimed in her mind.
"New quest alert: Accept Lady Seraphine's challenge."
Eleanor clenched her fists. Of course, it's a quest.
She hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing on her. Seraphine's smug face loomed before her, daring her to refuse. Greta's earlier words echoed in her mind—about authenticity, about finding laughter through honesty.
Finally, she straightened her shoulders, her voice steady and determined. "Fine. Challenge accepted."
Seraphine's eyes gleamed with triumph. "I can't wait to see your next… spectacle," she said with a smirk. "Good luck, Eleanor. You'll need it."
With that, Seraphine turned on her heel, her minions trailing behind her like obedient shadows.
Eleanor remained standing, the weight of her acceptance settling over her. She glanced at Greta, who gave her a supportive nod, and sighed.
Two weeks to not just win the prince's favor, but to beat Seraphine at her own game.
"Well," she muttered to herself, "no pressure."