Colton's words successfully enlightened Celitia.

Not because what he said made much sense, but because Celitia realized she no longer had time to waste searching for people.

She needed to seek Queen Marianne's help. Fortunately, for some unknown reason, Marianne seemed to have taken a liking to her and probably wouldn't refuse her request.

"You think so too, right?" Colton smiled at Celitia. "The ceremony hasn't started yet. Her Majesty should be in the VIP lounge here. Let me take you there."

Celitia nodded, and they headed toward the VIP lounge one after another.

"Your Majesty?"

Colton knocked on the door and only pushed it open after receiving permission from inside.

"Good morning, Queen Marianne, this is—"

Colton was about to introduce Celitia to the people inside, but Celitia had already stepped past him, walking calmly to Marianne.

"Your Majesty, I need your help."

Marianne seemed surprised that Celitia would approach her proactively, her eyes immediately lighting up with delight.

However, before Marianne could speak, an older woman sitting beside her gave Celitia a displeased look and said sternly:

"Who are you to be so impertinent?"

This woman was around forty, with her hair meticulously pinned back, dressed in a serious and conservative manner. Her brows were furrowed, and her eyes were full of dissatisfaction as she looked at Celitia.

"Meilenn," Marianne quickly explained for Celitia, "she's the Herbert family's daughter, not a suspicious person. There's no need to be tense."

"Lord Charles's daughter?" The woman called "Meilenn" was taken aback, raising her head to glance at Colton behind them.

Colton nodded slightly to her, and Meilenn's brows furrowed even more.

"Even if she is Charles's daughter, she shouldn't be this rude."

Meilenn immediately scolded Celitia. "If you have matters to discuss, you can have your father report them to the court. Her Majesty cannot personally handle your requests every day."

Colton walked to Celitia's side and quietly introduced: "That is Countess Meilenn, a friend of Her Majesty Marianne."

Not wishing to conflict with Meilenn, Celitia silently accepted her rebuke, only explaining: "I apologize, I was a bit too anxious."

Marianne mediated: "Indeed, don't be so hard on the child. Let's hear what request she has."

Meilenn looked resigned:

"Marianne, you're just too accommodating. If you always indulge them like this, you'll wear yourself out."

"I understand," Marianne smiled slightly, her gaze toward Celitia extremely gentle. "I just feel that she looks familiar, giving me an indescribable sense of closeness. She definitely isn't a bad child."

With that, Marianne kindly asked Celitia: "What help do you need? Don't be nervous, just speak boldly."

Someone who could barge into the Queen's lounge certainly wouldn't be nervous.

She took out the crumpled paper fragments and placed them on the table in front of Marianne.

"It's like this—"

Celitia briefly explained the situation, saying she had found suspicious paper fragments that looked like Sophia's handwriting and hoped to restore them for her.

She carefully omitted the part about Margaret, planning to tell Sophia privately later.

With the people present, who knew what their positions were? Celitia didn't want to bring trouble upon herself.

"So it's for Sophia!"

Marianne exclaimed, covering her mouth in surprise, her gaze at Celitia becoming so tender it seemed about to drip.

"Good child, sit here then. If you need me to do anything during the restoration process, just tell me directly."

Marianne stood up, moving aside to make room for Celitia.

Meilenn's face was written with disapproval, but she could only reluctantly comply with the Queen's wishes and moved aside as well.

Celitia pondered: "I'll need some materials..."

"What materials?" Marianne asked worriedly. "Is there still time to prepare?"

"It's fine, I have a way." Celitia shook her head.

Scanning the surroundings, Celitia saw a pair of scissors on a cabinet not far away.

Without hesitation, she walked to the cabinet, picked up the scissors, and then returned toward Marianne.

"What are you doing?!"

A brown-haired girl about Celitia's age was sitting nearby. Seeing Celitia pick up the scissors, she hurriedly stood up to block her.

"How dare you! Approaching the Queen with a blade—do you have a death wish?!"

Charlotte, unable to contain herself any longer, slammed the table and rose, rushing in front of Celitia and reaching out to grab the scissors from her hand.

Celitia flipped the scissors in her hand, deftly using the handle to tap Charlotte's wrist.

"Ah!!"

Charlotte cried out in pain, feeling her entire arm go numb and painful, unable to exert any strength.

"You dare hit me?!" Charlotte cradled her arm, nearly going mad with anger.

"Sorry, my hand slipped," Celitia's expression was extremely innocent. "Could you please stop interfering, Miss Charlotte?"

Marianne's voice came at the right moment: "Let her come, Charlotte, Benita."

The brown-haired girl named Benita didn't dare say anything, silently making way, her eyes fixed on Celitia, her expression full of disbelief.

She had never seen anyone so audacious.

Charlotte was unwilling to move, her expression suggesting she wanted to send Celitia straight to prison: "But, Your Majesty..."

"No buts," Colton smiled as he walked over, placing a hand on Charlotte's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Miss Charlotte. I'm still here. She won't have a chance to harm Her Majesty."

Among all present, only Colton's face was full of curiosity, eager to see what surprise Celitia would bring him next.

"Dean!!"

Charlotte was nearly driven mad with anger. She really couldn't understand why Sophia, Colton, and even Queen Marianne were all indulging this audacious, willful woman.

As Charlotte refused to move, Celitia took a detour, carrying the scissors back to her original position.

"Won't scissors just make the paper fragments even smaller?"

Marianne didn't mind, staring at Celitia as she raised her question.

"They're not for cutting paper."

Celitia explained, then took the scissors and quickly, forcefully, and precisely made a cut about half a centimeter long on her right index finger.

"Ah!"

Celitia didn't make a sound, nor did her expression change in the slightest. Instead, it was Marianne who cried out in shock, as if the cut had been made on her own body.