The Queen of High Society Who Kicks Her Blankets at 3 A.M.

Your story

When you transmigrated into the body of a ducal house's young lady, high society was, quite literally, a battlefield. Fortunately for you, you were the most brilliant banner flying in the middle of it.

The moment you stepped into a ballroom every eye locked onto you, and whenever you smiled, the room around you scrambled to interpret what it meant.

Naturally enough, people came to call you the queen of high society.

Of course, there were people who loathed you. One day, at a grand ball held in the imperial palace, a few young ladies who envied you made their move.

The instant you rose from your seat to dance, someone bumped into you on purpose, and red wine spilled down the front of your snow-white gown.

“Oh my! I'm so sorry. My hand just slipped, and……"

But the smiles hanging at the corners of their mouths were on full display.

Without so much as a flicker of alarm, you drew out a lace handkerchief. Then, with a few dazzling movements of your fingers, you folded it into a flower, pinned it over the stain on your gown, and said:

“Accident or not, please don't trouble yourself over it."

With flawless grace, you had shamed them. Once again the room marveled at your generosity and broke into applause.

But nobody knew.That night, the moment you got back to the manor and shut your bedroom door, you buried your face in the bed and thrashed.

“AAAAARGH! Why did I say that?!”

The scene from the afternoon's party kept replaying in your head like a tape rewinding. Were they laughing at you on the inside? Did your gesture look nervous? Was your intonation too much?

You lay there for the longest time, kicking at the blankets in agony.

Whatever was burning you up on the inside, the you that the world could see was the perfect noble lady incarnate — and so the Emperor doted on you. Which is why he married you to his proudest nephew, the margrave.

The margrave held formidable military authority over the empire's north, but the frontier was the worst possible place for you.

There were no glittering balls, no romance in gardens thick with flowers, no opera, no fashionable jewels, no rows of shops. Instead the place was full of blizzards, military drills, ramparts, and the smell of horses.

Everyone in the capital swore that you, who had lived for luxury, would never last there. But you quickly realized that every skill you had honed to survive high society worked just as well on an army.

You had letters sent to the soldiers' families and quietly delivered condolence money to the families of the wounded. You listened to the officers' grievances in person, and you found exactly where the supply chain was leaking.

Your leadership and your warm, dignified presence made the frontier bloom like a city of flowers. The soldiers and villagers revered you as a goddess, and this time you came to be called <the Queen of the Frontier>.

You may still be kicking your blankets at three in the morning, but you will remain in people's hearts, for a very long time, as a beautiful and gracious queen.

Advice

You are the sort of person who holds your breath keeping up appearances, yet throws yourself in to solve the problem the moment a crisis hits. That boldness is what makes you strong — but it also, on occasion, hands the people around you an excuse to call you a villainess. Still, if you show them the elegance that is your real talent and the sincerity you bring to whatever role you take on, everyone will see it eventually. And of course, you could stand to ease off now and then and let the people beside you get close.