The sun poured through the Lancaster estate's grand hall, bathing the long dining table in golden light. Silverware gleamed, crystal glasses sparkled, and every seat was filled with extended relatives who had come for the monthly family gathering.
In her past life, this day had been her humiliation. Clara had "accidentally" spilled soup on her, Lady Vivienne had scolded her in front of everyone, and Old Madam had labeled her as clumsy and disgraceful. That scar of shame had haunted her for years.
But this time, Elena smiled.
Let's see who embarrasses whom today.
---
"Ah, Elena, you're finally here." Lady Vivienne's voice was sugar-coated, her eyes sharp. "Do remember to behave yourself. No accidents today, hmm?"
The table chuckled softly. Clara covered her lips, pretending to hide a laugh.
Elena's expression remained serene. "Of course, Mother. Though, accidents don't happen to those who pay attention."
Clara froze, her smile twitching. Lady Vivienne's brows furrowed.
Elena gracefully sat down, ignoring the tension her words caused.
---
The servants began serving dishes. Soup, roasted duck, and fine wine filled the table. Elena noticed Clara's hand twitching near her goblet—exactly as it had in the past. Clara's trick was simple: wait until Elena raised her glass, then "accidentally" bump into her, spilling wine across Elena's gown.
This time, Elena was ready.
Just as Clara moved, Elena shifted slightly, her elbow knocking Clara's hand with a precise flick.
Clara let out a shriek as red wine splashed—not on Elena, but all over her own pristine white dress.
Gasps filled the hall.
"Oh no!" Elena exclaimed with mock innocence, quickly grabbing a napkin. "Clara, you must be more careful. Wine stains so easily." She dabbed at Clara's soaked gown, her tone sweet enough to curdle milk. "Don't worry, though. Everyone here knows you've always been… careless."
Laughter rippled across the table. Some cousins hid their chuckles behind their hands. Even Old Madam's lips twitched.
Clara's face turned crimson. "Y-You— it was your fault!"
Elena tilted her head, eyes wide in feigned shock. "My fault? Oh, but I was sitting still. Everyone saw, didn't they?" She turned to the relatives, her smile disarming.
A chorus of agreement rose from the table. Clara's accusation died in her throat.
Lady Vivienne quickly stepped in, her voice tight. "Clara, enough. Change your dress."
Clara fled, her ruined gown dripping wine across the floor.
---
Elena returned to her meal calmly, savoring every bite.
But she wasn't finished.
Midway through the banquet, Old Madam suddenly coughed, her sharp gaze falling on Elena. "You've been quiet. Tell me, Elena, what do you contribute to this family? Your sister excels in music, your cousin in business, but you…"
In her past life, Elena had stammered and fallen silent, making herself the laughingstock of the room.
This time, her smile widened. "What do I contribute, Grandmother? Well, I contribute honesty."
Murmurs filled the table.
"Honesty?" Old Madam asked, intrigued.
"Yes," Elena said sweetly. She set down her fork and folded her hands. "For example, Clara contributes… theatrics. And Mother contributes… controlling the script. Without me, who else would point that out?"
The room burst into laughter. Even the butler choked on his drink. Old Madam blinked, startled by Elena's boldness, but her stern expression cracked into the faintest smile.
Lady Vivienne's face drained of color, her hand tightening on her wine glass.
Elena lifted her own glass, eyes gleaming. "To the Lancaster family," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "May we all continue playing our roles… until the curtain falls."
The clinking of glasses echoed around the hall, but all eyes lingered on Elena—the girl who had suddenly become too sharp, too fearless, and far too entertaining to ignore.
And as Clara stormed back into the room in a new gown, cheeks burning with humiliation, Elena's lips curved into a smirk.
First move, made.