"My lady, there is something I wish to bring to your attention." Her lady-in-waiting's voice made Estella pause mid-bite at breakfast.
Three days had passed since the hearing. The Royal Council's ruling of "on hold" had unmistakably shifted the aura within the castle.
"I heard that Millefeuille's testimony did not align with the logs."
"Apparently the Duke's daughter presented an attendance log."
"They say the Queen herself remarked that 'this needed to be examined closer.'"
Through the ladies-in-waiting network, the details of the hearing had spread throughout the entire castle. Testimony that contradicted the official documents transcribed by the civil official. The correction of "I might have remembered wrong." And that unguarded voice of Mille's in the waiting room.
"Why? How did she have a record like that?"
A cold void, devoid of tears and polite speech. The lady-in-waiting who heard it told another lady-in-waiting, who told a chamberlain, who brought it to their master's ears. All within a day or two.
Estella turned to face her lady-in-waiting.
"And what is it?"
"I heard Lady Millefeuille spoke harshly to Lady Clara, the daughter of Marquis Fogel."
Estella's hand went still.
Lady Clara of House Fogel. She had been one of Mille's few allies. Even before the hearing, she had stood by Mille's side and protected him.
"What did she say?"
"When Lady Clara inquired about the outcome of the hearing, Millefeuille rebuked in a cold tone, 'It's none of your concern.'"
Estella took a sip of tea and fell silent.
Mille was losing her composure.
The cracks in her testimony at the hearing. The exposure of her true demeanour in the waiting room. The rumours spreading through the castle. All of it was compounding, chipping away at Mille's composure. And once her composure crumbles, she won't be able to maintain her 'pitiful victim' act. When that happens, her true apathetic nature will surface.
And her true nature was now directed at someone who was on her side.
Estella chose to do nothing.
She would not go on the attack. She wouldn't spread rumours about Mille's blunder. She would not create a narrative where the ducal house was cornering a baron's adopted daughter. She had presented her evidence at the hearing. That alone was enough. From here, Mille's own words and actions will determine the outcome.
Estella would do nothing; that was the best course of action right now.
The next day, and the day after that, her lady-in-waiting brought new information.
Estella went about her daily routine at the academy without change. She attended classes, submitted her assignments, and fulfilled her social obligations at tea parties. She never once brought up Mille. No matter how much the people around her gossiped, Estella simply smiled gently.
But the aura in the castle shifted with each passing day.
The number of people around Mille began to dwindle.
Lady Clara of House Fogel began to distance herself from Mille. The reason was because she had been told that it was none of her concern. Once Clara pulled away, the other young ladies who had followed Clara's lead naturally distanced themselves as well.
Before long, Alvin was the only one left by Mille's side.
"Also, my lady," her lady-in-waiting lowered her voice.
"The story about Millefeuille raising her voice in the waiting room after the hearing has spread quite widely. A lady-in-waiting at a marquis's house had heard her and it has reached House Fogel, and from there it spread even further..."
Estella raised her hand to stop her.
"There is no need for me to know."
"Yes, my lady."
Her lady-in-waiting bowed and withdrew.
Estella stood by the window and gazed up at the overcast sky.
She had done nothing.
She really hadn't done anything. All she did was present the attendance log at the hearing. It was not Estella who spread the story of Mille's behaviour in the waiting room. It was not Estella who spoke coldly to Clara. It was not Estella who drove Mille's allies away.
Mille was bringing about her own downfall.
But... could doing nothing truly be this cruel?
Estella looked down at her own hands. White fingers. Hands that weren't holding anything. She hadn't done anything.
She thought back to her days at the department store in her past life. She had seen it happen more than once; unreasonable complainers self-destructing through the contradictions in their own words and behaviour. People around them would distance themselves, their allies would vanish and they would wander around alone, searching for an exit. And Estella, who was standing behind the counter at those times, had done nothing. She had simply responded accurately.
This was the same.
She was doing the same thing now.
"I haven't done anything," she murmured the words aloud.
She realised the meaning of those words had shifted slightly from before. When she cried in the garden, when she used the kingdom's laws as her shield at the tea party, when she presented her evidence at the hearing... back then, "I haven't done anything" had been words used in defence.
But the current "I haven't done anything" was different.
She had caused Mille to crumble by doing nothing and was simply watching the outcome.
She thought it was cruel. But there was no reason for Estella to act.
On the evening of the fifth day.
Her lady-in-waiting brought information of a slightly different nature.
"I hear His Highness Alvin asked Millefeuille something."
Estella stopped embroidering.
"What did he ask?"
"I am not sure... but according to His Highness's chamberlain, His Highness asked Lady Millefeuille to tell him the truth."
Estella remained motionless for a second; her needle still stuck in the fabric.
The rumours had reached Alvin too.
The contradictions in Mille's testimony. Her unguarded behaviour in the waiting room. Her cold words to Clara. Bit by bit, but with certainty, those fragments were closing in around Alvin.
Alvin was a man who acted on emotion. He wanted to believe in Mille. He validated his own actions by believing in her, but a disconnection was beginning to emerge between his desire to believe in her and the information he was hearing.
"Tell me the truth."
Those words expressed his desire of wanting to believe in her. He wasn't doubting her. He was searching for something to dispel his doubt. If Mille cried and answered "everything I said is true," Alvin might still believe her.
But.
The power of Mille's tears was weakening little by little.
Her testimony had crumbled at the hearing. She had let her real voice slip in the waiting room. She had coldly lashed out at her ally, a marquis's daughter. Would the tears she shed now carry the same weight as before?
Estella didn't know. That was a matter between Alvin and Mille, and it wasn't her place to intervene.
She returned her gaze to her embroidery and moved the needle. She repeated the same movements.
Do nothing.
Don't make a move.
Whether Mille's facade would collapse was a matter for Mille herself and Alvin to settle. Estella had merely stepped onto the same stage. She hadn't done more than that and there was no need to.
But Estella quietly reflected upon the cruelty of doing nothing.
The sun was beginning to set outside the window.