The Queen’s First Assembly

“Do you like this hairstyle?”

Vina sat obediently before Ophelia, who, having recently acquired a wealth of knowledge about girls from the system, leveraged this newfound expertise to style Vina’s hair into an adorable coiffure.

“I do,” Vina replied, though for some reason, her eyes still lacked their usual sparkle.

Despite this, her expression conveyed immense delight.

“That’s wonderful,” Ophelia murmured, gently stroking Vina’s soft, compliant hair.

“Today marks your first appearance before the dukes and ministers, so you must look absolutely splendid.”

“Your Majesty…” Emily’s voice, hesitant and soft, drifted from nearby.

Ophelia turned her head, inquiring, “What is it, Emily?”

The rain outside pattered softly.

Emily let down her hair, revealing a cascade of black locks that were both smooth and lustrous.

“Um… I also want to…” Her gaze flickered, and a faint blush colored her pretty cheeks.

“Oh, you want me to style your hair too?” Ophelia’s spirits lifted.

Having just gained these skills, she had been fretting about finding opportunities to practice.

The more hair she could work on, the happier she became.

“Hmph,” Vina huffed, turning her face away in displeasure.

Her pouting lips suggested a feigned annoyance, yet this very gesture allowed Ophelia a glimpse of the Vina described in the book.

‘Yesterday’s incident must have been an anomaly, then,’ she mused, a thought forming unbidden in her mind.

“There, there,” Ophelia soothed, stroking Vina’s hair as one might calm a pet.

Vina nudged her head against Ophelia’s hand.

Indeed, it was much like the book had portrayed.

Ophelia’s trepidation regarding the unknown diminished considerably, almost against her will.

‘It’s probably just a butterfly effect caused by my character still being alive—there’s truly nothing to fear!’

As these thoughts drifted through her mind, Ophelia began to comb Emily’s hair.

“All right, we’re ready to go!”

A short while later, Ophelia exclaimed, raising her hands in delight.

A hint of anticipation stirred within her.

Today marked a council meeting, akin to ancient court sessions, though held only once a week.

While she typically found herself drowsy during these assemblies, at this moment, she felt a definite sense of excitement.

“Not good,” Vina interjected.

She produced a black, semi-transparent veil.

“Your Majesty, please wear this.”

Ophelia paused, taken aback.

“Why?” she asked, tilting her head, her expression conveying her bewilderment.

“Indeed, you have always been oblivious to your own beauty,” Vina sighed.

“Your Majesty, please listen and wear this.

Your appearance and aura are far too captivating to men.”

“That’s absolutely true!” Emily immediately agreed, while Marta nodded in earnest affirmation.

“You see, everyone feels the same way.

Please put it on quickly,” Vina urged.

Ophelia gazed at the veil.

The black gauze veil was rather elegant, and she didn’t feel particularly averse to it.

Moreover, she deemed it a minor issue, considering that as Queen, it was indeed prudent to avoid any potential impropriety.

She picked up the veil, placed it over her face, and then glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

Black gauze gloves, a flowing, opulent black dress, the black veil, sheer black stockings, and black high heels – she was entirely clad in black.

Yet, despite the monochromatic ensemble, it was far from monotonous; instead, it exuded an air of mysterious melancholy.

“Will this veil truly make a difference…?” Emily’s brow furrowed with doubt.

“It won’t,” Vina admitted with a shrug.

“However, Her Majesty cannot possibly attend the council dressed in a bright red padded jacket and floral shorts.

This is the best we can do under the circumstances.”

“What if the situation you’re worried about still occurs?” Emily asked, her face etched with genuine concern as she looked at Vina.

‘The situation I’m worried about? What other situation could there be?’

“Haha, you truly are clever, Emily,” Vina chuckled, shrugging her shoulders.

“I won’t explain the reasons, but I can tell you that this veil is indeed effective.

Without it, the very situation we are concerned about would undoubtedly arise.”

‘What are you two talking about?’ Ophelia thought, a silent lament.

‘Can you please stop being so cryptic? You’re smart, but I’m not…’

“Despicable men,” Emily muttered, her tone laced with resentment.

“Um… what exactly are you two discussing…?” Ophelia ventured, her voice barely a whisper.

Vina glanced over, a hint of amusement playing on her lips.

“Look, Marta doesn’t understand, but I do, alright?” Ophelia hastily interjected, feeling a pang of embarrassment under Vina’s teasing gaze.

“I’m merely asking you two to explain it to Marta, okay?” She quickly pointed towards Marta.

Marta paused for two seconds, momentarily stunned.

‘Oh no, Marta wouldn’t expose me, would she?’

“Indeed, I did not fully comprehend,” Marta stated with a righteous expression.

“I thank Your Majesty for considering my feelings, and I request that both of you ladies elaborate.”

Emily stifled a giggle behind her hand.

Vina’s lips curved upward slightly as she turned to Marta.

“You know Her Majesty is quite shy around strangers, don’t you?” she began.

“Marta, imagine this: if you were a man and happened to see Her Majesty looking bashful due to her shyness, how would you react?”

“I would be captivated,” Marta replied instantly.

“Exactly,” Vina nodded.

“That is precisely the reason.

Her Majesty is a femme fatale (TL Note: Literally ‘a beauty that brings disaster,’ referring to a woman whose charm causes trouble or ruin), a beauty capable of overturning kingdoms.

Her beauty alone could incite wars, couldn’t it?”

Ophelia felt a blush creep up her neck, flattered by the praise.

‘Oh dear, what can I do!’ she thought.

‘Since I’m so beautiful, I suppose I have no choice but to wear the veil!’

****

The heavy rain continued to fall.

It struck the ground, sending up wisps of mist.

Ophelia alighted from the carriage.

A long red carpet had been laid out before it, and she stepped onto it, proceeding into the grand hall.

Countless individuals had been whispering amongst themselves.

Upon seeing Ophelia enter, however, they ceased their cold indifference, bowing in unison before her.

Ophelia flinched in surprise.

She was still unaccustomed to wearing high heels, and the sudden fright caused her to momentarily lose her balance.

Just then, a warm, steadying presence appeared beside her, allowing her to regain her footing.

Vina had moved closer.

With the grace of a noble gentleman, she linked her arm through Ophelia’s elbow, supporting her as they ascended.

Ophelia’s face felt warm, a mix of awkwardness and shyness coloring her cheeks.

She took her seat on the Queen’s throne.

Everyone present assumed solemn expressions and began to bow.

Ophelia was about to speak, but Vina, standing behind her, had already begun.

“You may rise, everyone,” Vina announced.

“Her Majesty permits you to bask in her glory.”

‘Wow, what an edgy, chuunibyou (TL Note: A Japanese slang term for a teenager who acts like they have secret knowledge or powers, often characterized by grandiose delusions) declaration,’ Ophelia mused inwardly.

All eyes immediately turned towards her, filled with curiosity and scrutiny, making Ophelia acutely self-conscious.

She felt herself swaying slightly, almost losing her footing once more.

A wave of relief washed over her, grateful for the veil she wore.

‘What should I say now?’

Her mind was a blank slate.

She opened her mouth, yet no sound emerged.

Her heart hammered in her chest.

“Very well, let us commence today’s council meeting,” Vina’s voice, still from behind her, declared.

“Should there be any matters requiring discussion, please present them promptly for our deliberation.”

Ophelia let out a long breath.

‘It seems I don’t need to speak after all?’

‘Am I truly just meant to sit here, a mere decorative figure?’

Several nobles began to speak, and Vina, from behind her, along with Emily beside her, responded with seamless eloquence.

Ophelia noticed that the eyes of the people below the dais were filled with affirmation and admiration.

She had been so consumed by nervousness, yet it now appeared there was little for her to do.

A sudden sense of amusement flickered within Ophelia.

She sat in the very center of everyone, yet at this moment, she felt like an outsider.

‘This must be how characters not appearing in the original story don’t significantly alter its general direction, right?’ she mused with a touch of irony.

As the meeting progressed, Delores stepped forward.

“Distinguished各位, I have a proposal,” she announced.

“I suggest that Her Majesty the Queen become regent.”

The mention of her name instantly sent a jolt of anxiety through Ophelia.

Simultaneously, the atmosphere around them shifted abruptly, and a palpable tension descended upon the assembly.