Estelle Will Not Forgive a Second Time: The Condemned Noble Lady Returns in Elegance to Dance with the Incompetent Prince - Chapter 9

The night air was cold and taut with tension as I lifted the hem of my dress and stepped through the grand doors.

Here stood the dazzling stage of high society, lit by elegant chandeliers and glowing lanterns. In my first life, this place had merely been a setting to sway in a gown, exchanging light pleasantries.

But this time—this second life—was different.

With vengeance burning in my chest, I scanned the ballroom with measured steps and unwavering focus.

“Lady Estelle, you look radiant as ever tonight.”

“Thank you kindly.”

I offered a soft, practiced smile, replying smoothly to the nobles’ greetings.

But as I tuned my ears to the undercurrent of whispers throughout the room, I could hear the venom behind their hushed voices—designed to mock and discredit me.

“Estelle’s throwing herself at Prince Victor, isn’t she?”

“Now she’s cozying up to the second prince too? What’s her angle?”

“I heard she’s meddling in her family’s finances—but making a mess of it. Causing more trouble than she’s worth.”

Their words brushed against me like cold needles, but I continued walking with grace, my expression unshaken.

I didn’t need to guess who was spreading these rumors. I knew exactly who.

In my previous life, such malicious gossip hadn’t spread so swiftly. After all, I’d merely stood quietly on the sidelines of such events, never daring to involve myself in matters like finance.

But this time, I had changed my approach entirely—and she was retaliating, eager to destroy me before I became a threat.

“Oh my, Estelle. All alone tonight?”

That saccharine voice. I turned around, and there she stood—the one I had been waiting for, smiling sweetly as if nothing was amiss.

Clarissa Foren—my former friend.

“Yes, just enjoying a stroll on my own. Are you having a good time, Clarissa?”

I returned her gaze with a pleasant smile. Clarissa stepped effortlessly to my side, her voice low and laced with false concern.

“I’m worried about you, Estelle. There are some… troubling rumors going around, aren’t there? That you’re throwing yourself at the princes, or that you’ve bungled the financial records of your house… I’ve been terribly concerned.”

To a bystander, it might seem like a friend’s genuine concern. But I knew better.

This was her game—masking malice with faux kindness, tightening the noose under the guise of empathy.

“Thank you, Clarissa. But I assure you, I’m perfectly fine.”

I smiled serenely, watching her eyelashes flutter—just for an instant.

She hadn’t expected me to respond so calmly.

“Really? You’re not forcing yourself? I mean, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to…”

Regaining her poise, she plastered on a sympathetic smile, eyes glimmering with that same familiar deceit.

I allowed a slight curl to touch my lips, mocking in its subtlety.

“Oh? You sound almost disappointed that I’m doing well, Clarissa.”

“W-What? That’s absurd! I would never—”

Her flustered reaction was impossible to miss.

She waved her hands, eyes darting as she tried to gauge the surrounding crowd.

But I pressed forward, my voice low and unwavering.

“Enough of the charade, Clarissa. I know you’re the one spreading those rumors.”

Her face twisted, just for a second, before she quickly schooled her expression.

Whispers rippled through the ballroom. Nobles nearby had begun to sense something amiss between us, their eyes curious, speculative.

“W-What are you talking about, Estelle? I would never—”

Her voice cracked as she tried to salvage her dignity. But I had no intention of letting her slither away.

A hush fell around us as the nobles in earshot leaned in. Clarissa stiffened, realizing the growing attention.

I stepped forward, raising my voice for all to hear.

“If anyone couldn’t hear us clearly, allow me to speak plainly.”

I turned, surveying the crowd, letting the tension mount before delivering my blow.

“Clarissa Foren, you are hereby accused of treason against the Crown.”

A gasp rippled through the ballroom like a physical wave. Shock froze the onlookers in place. No one had expected such a damning accusation.

Clarissa’s eyes flew wide, her lips parting but no sound escaping.

“W-What nonsense is this, Estelle? That’s… far too extreme—!”

My accusation referred to embezzlement and illicit dealings, but meddling with royal funds was tantamount to endangering the nation’s assets—grounds for treason.

Especially if a duke’s house and Prince Victor were involved. This wasn’t just scandal—it was a political storm.

“You’ve been desperate to tarnish my name, but what you’re doing is a far greater crime. And I have proof—records of bribes and embezzlement.”

I withdrew a folded document from within my gown and held it high.

It detailed suspicious financial exchanges between House Foren and a powerful duke’s family—clear, undeniable evidence.

This document was proof—evidence that House Foren was managing illicit funds gathered by Prince Victor, at the center of a vast web of corruption.

“W-Why do you have that…?!”

Clarissa’s face stiffened in shock.

She hadn’t expected me to hold such damning, concrete proof in my hands.

All around us, the crowd collectively gasped, their eyes narrowing with suspicion and disbelief as they turned toward her.

“T-This must be some mistake…!”

Her voice trembled, faltering under the weight of exposure.

Of course, I hadn’t reached this conclusion alone.

It was Leonhart, my “co-conspirator,” who, while masquerading as a “useless prince,” had unearthed the key intelligence that sealed Clarissa’s fate.

At the far end of the hall, I caught sight of that familiar gold hair—Leonhart stood poised, watching our confrontation with calm clarity. Our eyes met, and he gave the slightest nod.

That was the signal.

Now, for the first time in public, Leonhart would use his position as the second prince—stepping out of the shadows, just this once.

“Lady Grandiel. Hand over that evidence.”

“Yes, Prince Leonhart.”

I passed the document to him—evidence we had uncovered together, though he already knew its contents by heart.

He flipped through the pages, skimming them with practiced ease, before raising his head, his expression composed yet solemn.

“Lady Clarissa Foren. The financial exchanges detailed here are irrefutable. This is evidence of treason—actions threatening the stability of the kingdom.”

Leonhart’s voice rang out, calm and cold, yet devastating.

The hall erupted into uproar, noble guests clutching pearls and gasping. His authority, the gravity of a prince’s word, made the truth impossible to ignore.

“P-Prince Leonhart, please! This is all a mistake—I swear! I didn’t—!”

Clarissa’s words stumbled, eyes darting wildly, searching for allies among the crowd.

But no one came to her defense.

Everyone’s gaze was now sharpened with suspicion and unease, lips sealed tight—afraid to be dragged down with her.

“Y-You planned this, Estelle! You set me up! We were friends!”

At last, her mask shattered—she screamed, finger pointed at me, desperation breaking through her perfect facade.

I didn’t flinch.

Instead, I smiled, cold and unwavering.

“‘Friends’? That was my mistake, wasn’t it? I know you spread those rumors about me. All to divert attention from your own crimes.”

Her expression collapsed into panic.

She’d tried to use me—my downfall as her smokescreen. But now, cornered by evidence, there was no escape.

“Arrest her,” Leonhart ordered flatly.

Guards stepped forward, gripping Clarissa’s arms. She struggled, flailing in vain.

“N-No, this isn’t right! There are others involved—why only me—?!”

Her frantic gaze sought help again, but nobles looked away—none dared be pulled into her ruin.

“Estelle, you wretched woman—you vile snake!”

I gave a soft laugh at that.

“Vile? Oh Clarissa—that’s the highest praise you’ve ever given me.”

Her face burned crimson, eyes blazing with fury as she was dragged away, still screaming in defeat.

Too late. It was over.

All around us, the mood had turned. The nobles who had mocked me, whispered behind my back, now recoiled from Clarissa’s disgrace.

Her schemes were finished.

I watched her go with cold detachment, the image of her writhing like prey—a mirror of my own death in the previous life—etched in my mind.

Yes, I once stood in her place. And now I had turned the tables.

I breathed out slowly, relief washing over me. The dread of my past life was, at last, being exorcised.

Across the hall, Leonhart and I locked eyes again.

He offered a small, knowing smile—a nod of victory—and I returned it with genuine gratitude.

Without him, I could never have crushed Clarissa so swiftly, so completely.

Together, as conspirators, we had triumphed.

I swept my gaze across the ballroom.

The woman who had mocked me, betrayed me, sought to destroy me—was gone.

Her silence would make room for mine.

Let Victor fret and scheme. Clarissa’s fall was only the opening act. My real aim was to drag him into deeper despair.

At the heart of the hushed ballroom, I lifted my chin and strode forward.

Let them call me villainess. I welcomed it.

This second life—this stage—was harsh and perilous.

But I would dance upon it.

And I would win.