Please Support My Revenge - Chapter 22.1

Apology offered and accepted, Florin lowered her gaze, cradling her teacup in silence.

As Countess Dora stumbled through the party, her awkwardness occasionally causing interruptions, Lobelia watched her with a sense of amusement. What a stunning turn of events, she thought, grateful for the sudden stillness of Florin’s usually disruptive presence. Gradually, Countess Dora regained her poise, the atmosphere in the room becoming pleasantly tranquil as those who once aided Florin had dispersed.

“Lord Valdoros, might you recite a poem for us?” Countess Dora suggested, her eyes occasionally flicking towards Lobelia.

She’s worried I’ll cause a scene, Lobelia realized, unfazed by the wary glances thrown her way. The chance to prove myself an ally will come soon enough.

Her gaze settled on Wilhelm, the poet who sat nervously, ill at ease in the grand surroundings. “Wilhelm, the rising star of poetry,” Lobelia whispered to herself, recalling his future fame, four years after the publication of his first work.

Despite his undeniable talent, his shyness left him unable to share his poetry in any salon. If she were to present Wilhelm’s work here, the party would be a success and earn the favor of Countess Dora.

The beauty of Wilhelm’s verse left everyone in attendance moved to tears. Lobelia kept a close eye on him, silently rehearsing her persuasive words. Yet, Wilhelm remained unaware, his focus solely on the floor at his feet.

Just as Valdoros’ recitation came to a close, a ripple of polite applause filled the party room.

“And now, shall we move to the room with the piano?” Countess Dora asked, clapping her hands in anticipation of Part 2. The men quickly found their respective partners and extended their arms for escorts.

Lobelia stood alone, ignored by all and faced with their wary gazes. Undeterred, she straightened her skirt and approached Wilhelm.

“Excuse me?” Wilhelm looked up at Lobelia, confusion evident in his eyes.

“Will you accompany me?” Lobelia asked, offering her arm.

“Yes, yes?” Wilhelm exclaimed in surprise, hiccupping nervously. “I’ve never even held a woman’s hand before!”

“Relax,” Lobelia reassured him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m not here to intimidate you. I’m here to help.”

“Help?” Wilhelm asked, his hiccups subsiding.

“You came here to share your poetry, did you not?” Lobelia asked. “But you haven’t had the chance to say anything during the first part. Then let me give you the platform to do so,” she whispered. “I’ll provide you with the perfect opportunity to recite your work, away from the prying eyes of the audience. Now, come on.”

Lobelia took Wilhelm by the arm and they started up the stairs. As they walked, she spoke softly to him, her words like a balm for his frayed nerves.

“I have read your poetry, Mr. Wilhelm, and I must say, it’s stunning. The beauty in your words is truly unmatched.”

“But….” Wilhelm hesitated and stopped midway up the stairs.

“What’s holding you back?” Lobelia asked.

“Will anyone appreciate the poetry of a humble and poor poet like me?” Wilhelm said with a sigh.

“Everyone will love it,” Lobelia reassured him with confidence.

“How do you know that?” Wilhelm asked, his expression desperate.

Lobelia stopped and looked at him with a calm and confident gaze. “I’ve read your poems, Mr. Wilhelm.” she said, “They’re beautiful.” As Lobelia recited some of Wilhelm’s poems, Wilhelm listened with a mixture of confusion and wonder. He was struck by how familiar they sounded. “Your poetry is truly invaluable,” Lobelia said with genuine admiration.

“How…how did you know?” Wilhelm stammered, his cheeks blushing with embarrassment.

“Is my guarantee not enough? I’m not just any lady, am I?” Lobelia offered her hand, and with renewed confidence, Wilhelm accompanied Lobelia to the room where the piano was.

The piano room, though not as grand as the main hall, was elegantly adorned with fresh flowers for the second part of the party. However, the atmosphere was far from festive, weighed down by Countess Dora’s amateurish hosting and the uninspired poetry recitations. As the women took turns playing the piano, Countess Dora fidgeted nervously, fanning herself with increasing vigor. If the salon party were to end on this uninspiring note, it would seriously damage her reputation.

Lobelia, who had been feigning interest in the piano playing, approached the Countess and whispered in her ear, “Countess, I have a proposition for you.”