The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne
Chapter 99: A Woman’s Jealousy

Chapter 99: A Woman’s Jealousy

Although the party had yet to begin, the main hall was already bustling with nobles, both young and old.

Heads of noble families—ranging from Barons to Viscounts—had gathered and were chatting casually, while Counts and Marquises formed their own exclusive circles.

The younger generation of noble families also clustered into their own groups. Some had known each other for years, while others were only now exchanging introductions and polite conversation.

On the right side of the hall, a group of young ladies surrounded a stunning blonde woman who clearly held the spotlight.

She wore a flowing golden gown that draped elegantly over the carpet. The collar was slightly loose, subtly revealing a hint of fair, alluring cleavage.

Her blonde hair was styled in a high crown braid, enhancing the aura of dominance and pride that surrounded her.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she listened to the compliments and idle chatter of the girls around her.

"Princess Novaria, what do you use to lighten your skin? It’s so bright and flawless!" one of them asked, her voice laced with envy and curiosity.

The other young ladies immediately turned their attention to the princess’s complexion. Only then did they truly notice how radiant and fair her skin was.

Upon hearing that, Novaria smiled faintly and took a graceful sip of red wine from the glass in her right hand.

"It’s nothing particularly special," she said calmly. "I simply use some exclusive beauty products from the Blue Moon Trading House."

She paused briefly, letting the anticipation build, before adding, "But those products are extremely rare and only available to a select few. Fortunately, I have a private connection, so it’s easy for me to get them."

"Wow! Princess, could you tell us how much they cost?" One of the young ladies inquired eagerly.

"They’re not that expensive—only three thousand Sharn per item," Novaria replied offhandedly.

"Three thousand Sharn!?" The young ladies echoed, their eyes widening in disbelief.

For those born into noble families, it wasn’t a particularly large amount. After all, their monthly allowances often ranged from six to ten thousand Sharn.

However, spending three thousand Sharn on a single beauty product was another matter entirely.

It was extravagant—something not all of them could afford without hesitation.

Moreover, most of them were neither the daughters of the main wife nor direct heirs, which meant their access to the family’s wealth was quite limited.

In the end, they could only swallow that bitter truth as they continued to listen to Novaria’s arrogant chatter beside them.

"By the way, I heard that Young Lady Rafine is also coming to this party. I can’t wait to meet her and chat!" exclaimed a green-haired young woman standing next to Novaria, her voice full of excitement.

"Oh, you’re right! I heard that too. When do you think she’ll arrive?"

"Probably soon. The party’s about to start anyway."

The conversation quickly shifted. The young ladies began discussing Rafine from all sorts of angles, filling the air with a more lively and excited atmosphere.

Meanwhile, Novaria—slowly pushed out of the spotlight—began to feel a twinge of displeasure.

Still, not a trace of anger appeared on her face. Instead, her mind was now preoccupied with the woman they had just mentioned.

Rafine, huh? That woman’s nothing but a thorn, she muttered coldly.

Within the Great Velmora Empire, there was an unofficial but widely recognized list of the most beautiful young women—an ever-popular topic in noble society.

Of course, the list had no official standing. It was entirely based on public admiration and popular opinion.

However, even that unofficial recognition was enough to prove how admired these women were, and it made many young noblewomen dream of earning a place on the list.

As it happened, the number one spot belonged to Rafine Austin, the eldest daughter of the Eastern Duke’s family.

In addition to her breathtaking beauty, Rafine was known for her intelligence and remarkable talent.

At just seventeen years old, she had already been appointed as the heiress of the Austin family and entrusted with overseeing the governance of the eastern region.

Naturally, countless young lords from prominent noble families were captivated by her and competed for the chance to win her favor.

Even Zarak and Cedric had openly expressed their interest.

Yet, Rafine rejected every suitor and continued to remain unattached.

That very fact only heightened her popularity—both in the public eye and among the younger generation of nobles.

As a fellow noblewoman, Novaria couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Despite being born into the imperial family, she was ultimately just a princess—without any real power in governance.

Like most princesses, her future would likely be decided through marriage—to a young noble or a prince from another kingdom or empire.

At nineteen, she should have already been wed to one of them.

However, as the Queen’s biological daughter—and with the powerful Malvain family backing her from her mother’s side—she had managed to avoid that fate thus far.

Even so, could she really avoid it forever? Of course not.

That was why she envied—and even resented—Rafine, who had been born to inherit the Eastern Duke’s title without ever having to fight for it.

Why is that woman so lucky? Why can’t I be like her?

That thought was laced with the storm of negative emotions swirling inside her. Subconsciously, she drained the red wine in her glass in one gulp.

As the bitter liquid slid down her throat, her anger slowly faded, allowing a sense of calm to return.

Just then, the green-haired young lady beside her suddenly exclaimed, "Look at him! He’s so handsome!"

Instinctively, the other young ladies turned to look—and in that moment, their hearts skipped a beat.

"He’s so handsome!" They gasped, covering their mouths with their palms, eyes widening as if they’d just laid eyes on a hundred-kilogram bar of gold.

A man had just stepped into the hall, wearing a striking black robe embellished with gold brocade along the collar, sleeves, and chest.

His face was flawless—sharp, refined, and irresistibly captivating, with a well-defined jawline that drew the eye.

A pair of violet eyes, firm yet lazily half-lidded, added an air of mystery, while his hair—black as the night sky—was impeccably styled.

Black hair was a rare trait in the Velmora Empire, typically seen only among people from the Eastern Empire of Izanagi, far across the eastern continent.

And yet, on this man, the color suited him perfectly—complementing his otherworldly looks with an effortless elegance.

Novaria turned her head as well—and for a brief moment, she was just as entranced as the others.

Then her eyes widened in disbelief as recognition dawned.

"Wait... isn’t that... Nolan?"

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