WTSP - 7

“Her Imperial Highness, Empress Ophelia Carlot, enters.”

The grand chandelier illuminated the banquet hall like the sun, and all eyes turned toward me.

Even during national team tryouts, I had never felt this nervous. Struggling to compose myself, I took slow, deliberate steps forward.

To others, it must have appeared as though a beautiful yet frail empress was making her first official appearance at a public event.

Doing my best to play the part of Ophelia, I allowed a faint smile to grace my lips. With each step, my purple earrings swayed silently.

Even after the third empress entered, the nobles’ gazes remained fixed solely on me.

They were likely curious about the “scandalous” empress they’d heard whispers of.

Though that incident had been shrouded in strict secrecy, many of the nobles present had attended the coronation ceremony. Nobles, after all, loved spreading rumors—often without realizing how loudly they spoke.

“Oh, so that’s the newly appointed empress everyone’s talking about.”

“She may not come from a prestigious family, but she’s breathtakingly beautiful. Perhaps His Majesty fell for her at first sight.”

“I heard she rarely appeared in society after her debutante season. Lord Meredith raised her like a rare flower, didn’t he?”

Their sidelong glances pricked at my skin, but no noble approached me directly.

Since I wasn’t of royal blood and was only the fourth empress, they likely deemed flattering me a waste of effort.

It seemed Ophelia’s position wasn’t as secure as I’d hoped. If I’d known this earlier, I might’ve made her a main character instead.

Regret bubbled up, but I quickly shook it off. Regret, after all, was poison.

‘I miss Lena. I wonder if she’s resting well?’

Thinking of her earnest face as she clenched her fists and wished me luck brought an involuntary smile to my lips.

Having someone to rely on in this unfamiliar environment was a blessing.

Lifting my head, I studied the second and third empresses, who seemed visibly displeased.

Though they hid their expressions behind fans, their glares felt unmistakable… or was I imagining things?

Just then—

The gazes that had lingered on me shifted toward the entrance.

“Her Imperial Highness, Empress Uriel Carlot, enters!”

As I sipped my rosemary tea, steam curling upward, I looked up to see the new arrival.

Fiery crimson hair, enigmatic gray eyes—my heart raced uncontrollably. Without needing further explanation, I instinctively knew who she was.

Uriel, eldest daughter of the Solian dukedom and the first empress.

Above all, she was the main antagonist of A Common Girl Becomes Empress. A character with terrifying determination, willing to do anything to dethrone Brilline.

The first duke of Solian had played a pivotal role in founding the empire, granting the family immense power and influence. Rumors often swirled around them—like how their red hair was cursed by wrongfully killed souls.

‘She truly is dazzling. Almost blinding.’

Uriel was ambitious. No one could have predicted that a noblewoman, beloved by all, would become an empress.

But originally, the empress position was meant for Uriel, not Brilline. It was tradition for the Solian duchess to sit beside the emperor. Even Serdelius’ late mother had once borne the Solian name.

Then, one day, a penniless common girl stole the emperor’s heart.

Looking back, even I couldn’t deny how implausible the plot twist was.

As Uriel descended to the center of the hall, the nobles flocked to her side. After all, she wielded more power than even the empress herself.

The attention that had been on me evaporated instantly.

Uriel wore her usual indifferent expression. Having grown up under the adoration of thousands, she seemed unfazed by the crowd.

Her sole focus was her unwavering goal: to push Brilline into despair and claim the empress title for herself.

“I need to stay out of her way. Who knows what she might do to me?”

I muttered to myself, recalling the atrocities she committed against Brilline in the story. Just thinking about them made my skin crawl.

Of course, Serdelius, the male lead, was always loyal to Brilline, his one true love.

I had planned for him to punish Uriel severely near the end of the novel—but here I was, stuck in the middle of the story without even finishing the second act…

As everyone’s attention shifted to Uriel, a loud trumpet blast pierced the air. The emperor and empress had arrived.

The disgruntled nobles turned toward the entrance to greet the imperial couple.

Technically, few acknowledged Brilline as the rightful empress yet. I had designed the plot so that the “frustration” readers felt would gradually resolve by the middle of the story.

Brilline wasn’t your typical “satisfying” heroine. She hadn’t reincarnated or possessed another body, either.

Even I, her creator, sometimes found her character frustrating. How boring must she have been for readers?

Speak of the devil.

Brilline entered the hall, hand in hand with Serdelius, wearing a simple yet elegant mermaid-style violet gown. Though less extravagant than Uriel’s dress, its intricate embroidery made it uniquely stunning.

Seeing her style, I couldn’t help but prefer it over Uriel’s flashy attire. Despite being unpopular, Brilline was still my precious protagonist—like a child to me.

‘And there he is, as dazzling as ever. I really should’ve included illustrations.’

His sharp nose, sorrowful eyes, perfect jawline, and icy charm could rival any male lead from internet novels. Several young noblewomen gasped upon seeing him for the first time. Understandable, given his godlike beauty.

Together, they were breathtaking.

Yet, something felt off. Despite looking good together, there was no palpable chemistry between Serdelius and Brilline.

Was it because he was too dazzlingly handsome? Lost in thought, Serdelius suddenly stood and announced the start of the ball.

Traditionally, the Founding Day party began with a waltz between the emperor and empress. As the smooth strains of violin blended with piano, they began their dance.

Serdelius gracefully guided Brilline, placing a light hand on her waist. Though she occasionally stepped on his feet, he showed no sign of irritation.

“For someone who can’t even waltz properly to be empress… Tsk, what a disgrace.”

An irritable voice cut through my thoughts. It came from a middle-aged nobleman with a handlebar mustache.

Wait, did the empress really have to excel at everything? Wasn’t it okay to be bad at dancing? Suddenly, I understood the saying, “Only I get to criticize my own child.” My plan to stay quiet was crumbling.

“Excuse me, who do you think you are to—”

But my words were drowned out by thunderous applause. The music had ended.

After kissing Brilline’s hand, Serdelius ordered the musicians to resume playing. Now, anyone could join the dance floor with their partner. Naturally, I had no intention of dancing—I didn’t even have a partner.

Watching the young nobles waltz, I sighed in boredom.

If only Lord Meredith, Ophelia’s father, had been here. Unfortunately, some urgent matter had prevented him from attending.

‘Surely I’ve mentioned some of these people in the story before… but without knowing their faces, it’s hard to connect the dots.’

When writing, I liked giving backstories not just to the main characters but also to supporting roles. Though it slowed the main plot, it enriched the narrative.

So among these hundreds of nobles, surely some were characters I’d referenced.

As I carefully scanned the crowd, I noticed the room had gone eerily silent.

Once again, all eyes were on me.

“You look bored.”

It didn’t take long to figure out why. Standing right in front of me was none other than Serdelius, who had just finished dancing with the empress.

Suppressing a cough, I rolled my eyes.

“I was just watching the crowd. Did I look that bored?”

“At the very least, you didn’t look entertained. I see you’re wearing the shoes I gave you.”

“Oh, yes. They’re much more comfortable. Wearing high heels makes me feel like a circus clown walking a tightrope.”

At my response, Serdelius extended his hand, his lips curling ever so slightly into an ambiguous smirk.

Then came his utterly unexpected words. This man continued to shatter my plans into pieces.

“Let’s dance, Empress.”