CHAPTER 84: TEA PARTY AT THE COUNTESS’S (4)

"What? An apology?" The Marquise of Balmer’s voice rang out so loudly that even the birds chirping in the garden foliage fell silent for a moment. Her eyes flashed, and her lips twisted into an indignant grimace. "You... you demand that my son apologize?!"

At that moment, the Marquise of Balmer looked like an offended aristocrat whose pride had been deeply wounded.

Her son, Dennis, standing next to her, looked like a smaller version of his mother — with the same arrogant expression on his face and a look of fear mixed with anger in his eyes.

He clung to his mother’s skirt as if seeking protection, and I remembered how often children in such families were raised to believe that their status entitled them to everything. For this reason, I could not allow this spoiled and self-centered boy to grow up thinking that all his actions would go unpunished.

"Exactly," I replied calmly, almost coldly, looking her straight in the eye. "I demand that my niece receive a proper apology for what happened."

My voice was steady, without unnecessary emotion, but there was steel in it. Even though I spoke politely, the atmosphere itself seemed to tense up. Several ladies standing a little further away exchanged anxious glances. Someone whispered quietly:

"My God, did she really say that?"

"It seems so," replied another, covering her mouth with a lace fan.

I felt all eyes on us — on me and the marquise — and it only strengthened my resolve.

Ruby, standing next to me, squeezed my hand slightly, her small fingers trembling, and I knew she was nervous, but her eyes showed her faith in me. It gave me strength, reminding me why I had to remain firm.

Meanwhile, the Marquise of Balmer was losing her composure more and more. Her cheeks flushed, and her fingers, clenched around her lace handkerchief, turned white with tension.

"Why should we be the ones to apologize?" she exclaimed, unable to hide her irritation. "Can’t you see that my son has also been hurt? They should apologize to him too!"

Her words were full of indignation, and I saw the other ladies nodding in agreement, their faces expressing solidarity with the marquise.

Nevertheless, I did not look away. Maintaining the outward calm that I had cultivated over the years as a shield against the world, I replied with icy politeness:

"Your son merely fell and was not hurt in any other way. My niece, on the other hand, has a scratch on her cheek. Isn’t it obvious which of them suffered more?"

"You... you...!" The Marquise of Balmer gasped with indignation. "How dare you speak to me like that?!"

"Don’t I have the right to do so?" I said clearly.

I took a step forward, and our eyes met. I knew that no one here expected such behavior from me. Usually, at receptions like this, everything was decided politely, trying to avoid unnecessary conflict. But now I deliberately allowed myself to show the very energy that was usually called the "aura of a villain."

My gaze became heavy and piercing. I allowed my eyes to narrow, my chin to rise slightly, and my voice to take on a low, almost authoritative tone.

"I will not allow my niece’s honor to be tarnished," I said evenly, enunciating each word clearly. "Neither you nor your son have the right to accuse a child of something she did not do."

The Marquise of Balmer pressed her lips into a thin line. For a few moments, she hesitated, as if torn between pride and common sense. There was an oppressive silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves and her own heavy breathing.

At that moment, Countess Rowan tried to intervene cautiously, raising her hand:

"Please, let’s keep calm. I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding..."

But I didn’t even turn my head. My gaze remained fixed on the Marquise of Balmer, like a hunter who never takes his eyes off his prey, and it was intentional — I wanted to show that I would not back down, that my will was stronger than her pride.

My eyes, full of determination, pierced her, making her feel vulnerable, and I knew that this pressure was working.

It seems that this is what decided the outcome.

The marquise faltered. Her shoulders slumped, her expression softened, though anger still smoldered in the corners of her eyes. She took a deep breath and, turning to her son, said with visible effort:

"Dennis, apologize to Lady Weinstein’s niece. Right now."

Her words echoed through the garden, causing several ladies standing nearby to exchange surprised glances — this was an unexpected defeat for the marquise, who had always remained so unyielding.

"What? Mom! But I..." The boy initially protested, but he fell silent when his mother’s icy, warning gaze fell on him.

His cheeks flushed bright red, and he turned away, staring at the ground. His hands, clenched into small fists, trembled, and his face reflected a mixture of anger and shame — he, who was accustomed to having his every wish granted in this world, was now confronted with a reality where things did not always go his way.

Finally, after a pause that seemed like an eternity, he reluctantly muttered:

"I’m sorry..."

His voice was quiet, almost inaudible, but it was enough.

I nodded, finally allowing myself to exhale. My chest warmed — not with satisfaction, but with relief. In the end, it wasn’t about pride, but about justice.

Ruby, who had been standing nearby all this time, watched the scene with wide eyes. When the boy apologized, she bowed hesitantly in response, as if she still couldn’t believe that the conflict was really over.

The tension gradually began to ease. The servants standing nearby exchanged glances and cautiously returned to their duties, as if afraid that one more careless move would reignite the storm.

I leaned toward my niece and gently touched her shoulder.

"Ruby, are you okay? Does anything else hurt?" I asked as softly as I could.

The girl blinked and replied quietly, stammering:

"N-no... everything’s fine."

"Good," I exhaled, allowing myself a slight smile. "It’s all over now."

But I could see that her lips were still trembling. Ruby lowered her eyes, clutching the hem of her dress with her fingers. There was still a reddish scratch on her cheek, and it made me feel uneasy again.

I made a mental note to ask Edison to examine and treat her as soon as we got home. And yet...

"Auntie..." she whispered suddenly.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Can we leave?" Ruby looked up, her eyes full of confusion and sadness. "I don’t want to stay here anymore."

Her words pierced me. I knew Ruby didn’t like such noisy gatherings, and after this scene full of judgmental glances and whispers, she just wanted to disappear.

Nevertheless, for a moment, I was at a loss. We had only just arrived, and I hadn’t thought we would be leaving so soon. But now... how could I make her stay when Ruby herself didn’t want to?

In the end, my niece’s happiness and well-being were more important than anything else.

I pressed my lips together and, gathering my thoughts, nodded gently.

"Of course," I said after a short pause. "We’ll leave."

I squeezed her hand, feeling it still trembling. Turning to Countess Rowan, I said:

"I apologize, but I think it would be best for us to leave now."

The countess, who still seemed slightly shaken by what had happened, nodded hastily:

"Yes, of course, Lady Weinstein... I understand. I apologize for this incident!"

Her gaze conveyed a mixture of embarrassment and regret, as if she felt guilty for allowing such a scene to occur at her reception.

"It’s all right," I replied, bowing my head politely. "Thank you for your understanding."

The countess just nodded, not daring to add anything else. Her eyes, usually soft and kind, now expressed only confusion.

After that, Ruby and I left the place together.

As Ruby and I headed for the garden exit, I could still hear muffled whispers behind me. It was likely that those present were still discussing the scene that had just taken place. But I paid no attention to it. All that mattered to me now was that Ruby was comfortable and safe.

We walked along the gravel path, and the crunch of stones underfoot sounded especially loud in the silence. We passed flower beds with blooming hyacinths and turned onto the path leading to the gate.

Gradually, I felt the tension leave my body and my heart beat more evenly.

"Auntie..." Ruby called softly as we approached the carriage. "Thank you."

Her voice was soft and slightly timid, but it sounded sincere, and I couldn’t help but feel something stir inside me. I looked at her and, unable to resist, gently squeezed her hand.

The warmth of her hand washed over me, and for a moment I felt that all my worries and anxieties were behind me.

"You’re welcome, dear. Just remember one thing: never let anyone treat you unfairly."

The girl nodded, and for the first time in all this time, a timid smile appeared on her face.