CHAPTER 33: TEA TIME WITH THE HEROINE

[ORIGINAL POV]

"System, let me check my current balance."

║–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––║

║Current EXP Balance:║

║→ Positive EXP: 162║

║→ Negative EXP: 64║

║–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––║

"I bought everything," Cressida muttered, reviewing her virtual inventory. "But somehow, a large chunk of my Experience Points still remain."

She was, frankly, more prepared than she realized.

She already owned several deeply useful items from the digital store and just needed to stop hoarding them and commit to using them at the opportune moment.

Readying herself, Cressida summoned a carriage. The short ride to the Imperial Palace took only minutes.

Upon arriving at the enormous, oppressive palace complex, she was met by a young, impeccably dressed maid whose face was utterly devoid of emotion. The maid offered a brief, low curtsey.

"Follow me, Madame. The Empress Consort awaits."

The journey was a tour of contrasts.

They walked quickly through the eastern wing, a quieter section tucked away from the main administrative halls.

The air here was softer, scented with gardenia instead of the heavy dust and political tension of the inner court.

However, these passing by servants and maids didn’t seem to know to lower their voices.

Cressida, possessing the excellent hearing of her current body, a trait the original Cressida likely used for eavesdropping, caught every syllable:

"Did you hear? The Mouse is back!" whispered a maid with a severe bun.

"Shhh! She’ll hear you!" hissed the second maid, yet she leaned in closer. "They say she’s Agrona’s new wife now. Imagine! That pathetic, shrieking thing next to Her Imperial Highness."

"It makes no sense! She once threw a plate of artisanal cheese because it wasn’t shaped like a swan!" the third maid scoffed, barely concealing her laughter with a cough.

A swan-shaped cheese? The original Cressida was clearly a high-maintenance disaster.

"Well, maybe Agrona likes her because she’s shorter and easier to step over," the second maid concluded spitefully, drawing giggles from the group.

’Wonderful,’ Cressida thought, her smile feeling brittle. ’The only thing keeping me alive is the general consensus that I’m too ridiculous to bother with.’

The maid led Cressida past private courtyards and intricate wrought-iron gates, finally stopping at the "Whispering Gardens Tea Salon." It was a delicate structure of glass and white latticework nestled beside a vibrant, manicured rose garden.

The maid didn’t announce her.

She simply opened the double glass doors and vanished with another silent curtsey.

Inside, Lilithia was already seated at a table near a large window, basking in the diffused light.

She looked completely serene, the picture of a graceful, oblivious noblewoman.

"Your Imperial Highness," Cressida began, pulling her skirt and executing a deep, flawless curtsy.

Lilithia watched her, a wide, unnerving smile spread across her face. "If you keep being polite, others might think you’re not Cressida, you know."

Woah.

Cressida felt a genuine shock.

Since when did this girl smile at her sincerely like that?

Although, this meeting was absolutely going to be the talk of the town.

The victim, now a powerful consort, inviting her former bully for tea. They could only assume the teacups were poisoned.

"You’re right," Cressida conceded, dropping the formality slightly.

"I told you, don’t be so formal," Lilithia insisted, her voice light and dangerously casual. "Let’s just talk like normal people."

Cressida nodded hesitantly and moved toward the seat directly across from Lilithia, aiming for the expected diplomatic distance.

But before she could settle, Lilithia patted the seat right beside her. Cressida swallowed hard, knowing she had no choice but to comply with the heroine’s command so she lowered herself onto the seat beside Lilithia, giving up on any pretense of space.

Before her hips could even adjust, her hands were instantly clasped tightly between the heroine’s.

"Um...?" Cressida managed, startled by the sudden, overwhelming closeness.

"You should start by telling me about the outside world!" Lilithia demanded excitedly, her eyes shining with a frightening, intense life.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Forced into the confession, Cressida provided a rapid, essential overview of her home world.

She described Earth as a place of technological miracles, vast networks of global communication accessible through handheld devices, vehicles that flew and moved without magic, and colossal cities powered by harnessed electricity.

She spoke of the unending cycle of day and night, the true sun, the existence of oceans, and populations counted in the billions.

It was a world utterly devoid of what’s in the novel, a world where science dictated reality, not fate or scripts.

"Wait, so your entire ’real world’ runs on this... capitalism? You spend all your time trying to acquire colored paper?"

"Pretty much. We call it currency."

"And if you don’t collect enough of this paper, what happens? You’re exiled to the wilderness?"

"Worse. You lose your housing, you can’t afford to eat, and eventually, yes, you kind of just die."

"Oh, my! So it’s a murderous meritocracy! That is so beautifully barbaric. Do they at least give you a fabulous gown to wear while you starve?"

Um?...

"No, they give you debt."

"Debt... a magical curse that follows you across dimensions? Seems like nothing changed at all."

Lilithia seemed genuinely eager about the outside world, and for a fleeting moment, she simply appeared lonely.

"Is something wrong, Cressida? Actually, should I even call you that?"

Cressida froze. She absolutely did not want her past identity revealed, or even acknowledged. Her hesitation was obvious. "Just Cressida," she settled on, keeping her voice even.

"You know," Lilithia murmured, a soft, intimate lilt in her voice, "I’m truly glad I was finally able to talk to you."

Cressida, finding herself relaxed by the easy flow of conversation, took a long sip of her tea. It was warm and floral.

Suddenly, a strange, leaden weight settled behind her eyes. Her limbs felt heavy. A wave of odd sleepiness crashed over her, entirely too fast and too potent for afternoon tea.

Poison?! No... She couldn’t be this stupid?!

Her eyes flew to Lilithia, wide with accusation and terror. Lilithia merely watched her, the gentle smile still in place. "You look sick."

Cressida tried to speak, to lash out, but the world tilted. Her limbs were failing.

The last thing she felt was the hard, relentless pull of unconsciousness before her head slumped forward onto the table.