Of Steel and Roses: Silver-Haired Loli on a Rampage

No, no, no.

It really won't do after all.

Pavela stood stiffly in place, a 'proper smile' she had practiced countless times plastered on her face, while inside she was screaming wildly.

She was completely out of her depth!!

The banquet was being held at the Duke of Greenwood's estate.

A behemoth three times larger than the Schwartz Family mansion, with a foyer spacious enough to park two mechs.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, each one half the size of Pavela, candlelight refracting brilliantly off countless facets, illuminating the entire hall as bright as day.

A band played some classical music she didn't understand in a corner, while waiters weaved through the crowd with silver trays laden with delicate pastries and champagne.

People were everywhere.

People in splendid formal wear.

People wearing family crests.

People speaking social pleasantries, half of which she couldn't understand.

Before coming, Pavela had prepared herself mentally.

She was a mud-footed soldier from the war front, armed only with hastily taught, crash-course etiquette.

Her accent wasn't standard, her posture wasn't elegant, and she was utterly clueless about the rules of noble society.

She had thought she would face questioning.

That someone would ask, 'Where are you from?'

That someone would scrutinize her every move with a critical eye.

That people would whisper behind her back, saying how the Schwartz Family could adopt such a wild girl of unknown origin.

She was ready to face all that.

In the Punishment Camp, she had learned how to survive amidst hostility.

On the battlefield, she had learned how to stay calm under a hail of bullets.

What were a few sarcastic remarks? She had seen far worse malice.

But she was wrong.

She was terribly wrong.

'Oh my, is this the little sister newly adopted by the Schwartz Family?'

An elderly lady with graying hair—introduced by Eleanor as the widow of some count.

She looked at her with an almost affectionate gaze, reaching out a ring-laden hand to gently pinch Pavela's cheek.

'What a lovely child.'

Pavela's smile froze on her face.

Lovely?

Her?

'Look at these eyes, like a little kitten's.'

The elderly lady continued, her tone full of appreciation, 'Eleanor, where did you find such a pretty child?'

'Picked her up on the battlefield,' Eleanor replied with a smile, her tone as casual as if saying 'picked up a stray cat by the roadside.'

In a sense, that was indeed the truth.

'Oh, you poor child.'

The elderly lady's eyes grew even more affectionate. 'War is truly dreadful. But it's alright, you have a home now.'

She pinched Pavela's cheek again.

Pavela maintained her smile, enduring it.

She wanted to move this hand away right now, but she couldn't.

Then they encountered a viscount, a baroness, and the aunt of some lord or another.

Every single one showed Pavela extraordinary enthusiasm.

'Such a well-behaved child.'

'This face, she'll definitely be a beauty when she grows up.'

'Eleanor, you must take good care of her.'

Pavela's face was about to cramp from smiling.

'So?'

Eleanor asked quietly beside her, a hint of schadenfreude in her tone, 'How does it feel?'

'I feel like my cheeks are about to be pinched raw.'

Pavela replied in an equally hushed voice, 'Why do they all want to pinch my face?'

'Because you look very pinchable.'

'...?'

'And,' Eleanor's lips curved slightly upward, 'I never received this kind of treatment when I was little.'

Pavela expressed her disbelief with a look.

'Really.'

Eleanor shrugged. 'I've always looked rather... sharp. No one dared to pinch my face.'

Alright, Pavela could believe that.

Eleanor's ice-blue eyes indeed didn't seem to belong to someone whose face could be casually pinched.

'So you're just watching my embarrassment?'

'I'm admiring your adaptability,' Eleanor corrected. 'You're doing very well.'

'I'm behaving like a puppet.'

'A very cute puppet.'

Pavela decided she absolutely had to find a way to get back at her once they got home.

But before she could come up with a specific plan for revenge, a new crisis had already descended.

'Eleanor!'

A clear voice called from the crowd.

Pavela turned to see several young girls in gorgeous formal wear walking towards them.

Leading them was a golden-haired, blue-eyed girl, about sixteen or seventeen, wearing a goose-yellow gown, her smile revealing two little canine teeth.

'Long time no see! I heard you were injured, are you better now?'

'It's nothing serious anymore.'

Eleanor gave a slight nod. 'Victoria, you look quite energetic today.'

'Of course!'

The girl named Victoria puffed out her chest proudly. 'I've been waiting for this banquet for ages—huh?'

Her gaze fell on Pavela, and her eyes instantly lit up.

'Is this your newly adopted sister?' freёweɓnovel.com

'Yes. Pavela von Schwartz.'

Eleanor introduced. 'Pavela, this is Victoria von Hohenheim, daughter of Marquis Hohenheim.'

'Hello,' Pavela performed a standard noble curtsy. 'Pleased to meet you.'

'Oh my god, she's so cute!'

Victoria exclaimed, then without another word grabbed Pavela's hand.

'How old are you? You look so young! Your eyes are so pretty! Is your hair naturally this color? Where are you from? What do you like to eat? You—'

Pavela was left dizzy by this barrage of questions.

'Uh, I—'

'Victoria, you're scaring her.'

Another voice interjected.

Pavela turned to see a black-haired girl looking at Victoria with a resigned expression.

This girl was about fifteen or sixteen, wearing a light purple gown, her demeanor surprisingly composed for her age.

'Cecilia is right,' another voice chimed in. 'You're like this every time you see something cute.'

The speaker was a red-haired girl, about the same age as Cecilia, wearing a deep green gown, a playful smile on her lips.

'I am not like this every time!'

Victoria retorted, but her hand still held tightly onto Pavela. 'And she really is cute!'

'Pavela,' Eleanor continued the introductions, 'this is Cecilia von Lindenberg, second daughter of Count Lindenberg. And that is Charlotte von Rosenthal, daughter of Viscount Rosenthal.'

Cecilia gave a slight nod, her gaze sweeping over Pavela as if assessing something.

'Welcome to Victorian, Miss Pavela.'

Her voice was gentle. 'I hope you can adapt to life here.'

'Thank you,' Pavela replied, trying to free her hand from Victoria's grip, but failed.

'Don't be nervous,' Charlotte said with a laugh. 'Victoria is just like this; she can't walk away from cute things. You should be glad she didn't just pick you up.'

'I wouldn't—okay, I might,' Victoria admitted honestly. 'But I held back!'

Pavela didn't know what to say.

This... this was completely different from what she had imagined.

She was prepared for questioning, prepared for malice, prepared for sarcastic remarks.

But she was utterly unprepared for... this.

'By the way, Eleanor,' Charlotte suddenly said, 'can we borrow your sister for a while?'

'Of course.'

Eleanor replied without hesitation.

'Wait—'

Pavela tried to say something, but Victoria was already pulling her in another direction.

'Come on, come on, I'll introduce you to some other people!'

Pavela looked back, sending a silent SOS with her eyes to Eleanor.

Eleanor stood in place, holding a glass of champagne, and smiled faintly.

Then she turned and walked towards another group—likely her own circle of friends.

Pavela had been abandoned.

And just like that, she was dragged through the crowd by the three noble misses to the other side of the hall.

More young girls were gathered there, ranging from thirteen or fourteen to seventeen or eighteen, all in splendid gowns, like a flock of colorful butterflies.

'Everyone, look!'

Victoria announced loudly. 'This is the little sister newly adopted by the Schwartz Family!'

All eyes turned to Pavela.

AI Model: mistral-large

Pavela felt like she was a product on display.

No.

More like prey being eyed by a pack of hungry carnivores.

'She's so cute!'

'Those eyes!'

'Her hair is silver!'

'She looks so young, how old is she?'

The girls chattered and surrounded her, not giving Pavela a chance to °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° speak.

'Let me touch her hair!'

'Her skin is so white!'

'I just want to pinch her cheeks!'

Pavela froze.

Her mind raced, trying to find a way to deal with this situation from her past experiences.

What do you do when surrounded by enemies on the battlefield?

—Break through. Find the weak point, concentrate your forces, and break through.

What do you do when captured by the enemy?

—Look for an opportunity, wait for the right moment, and feign compliance if necessary.

What do you do when surrounded by noble misses treating you like a cute mascot?

—...

She had no experience with this.

Even with the experience of those old men, she had no answer.

'Oh, right,' Victoria suddenly said, 'I heard you were saved by Eleanor from the battlefield? How was it there? Did you see any mecha knights fighting?'

'I—'

'Mecha knights are so cool!'

Another girl interjected, 'My cousin is in the Third Knight Order, he told me so many stories last time he came back!'

'I want to see a mecha too!' another girl said, 'But Mom won't let me go to the front line...'

'Of course not, the front line is so dangerous, what would you do there?'

'But—'

The topic shifted rapidly, from mecha to knights, from knights to gossip about some noble boy, from gossip to the latest fashion in skirts, from skirts to a new cake at some dessert shop...

Pavela couldn't get a word in.

It wasn't that she didn't want to speak.

She just didn't know what to say.

Her knowledge of mecha was limited to 'how to pilot it to kill' and 'how to repair it to keep killing'.

Her knowledge of knights was limited to 'they are the enemy' and 'killing them yields spoils'.

Her knowledge of skirts was limited to 'these things are really hard to walk in'.

Her knowledge of sweets was limited to'sometimes black bread moves on its own'.

None of these topics were things she could discuss.

Worse still, these girls seemed not to mind her silence at all.

They chatted among themselves, occasionally reaching out to touch her hair, pinch her cheeks, or adjust her skirt.

Pavela felt less like a person and more like a... doll.

A doll being played with by a group of little girls.

'By the way, Pavela,' Cecilia suddenly spoke up, her voice still calm, 'what are you interested in?'

Finally, someone asked her.

Pavela was about to answer, but realized she didn't know what to say.

Her interests?

Weapons? Tactics? How to cause the most damage with the least resources?

These were not suitable topics for this occasion.

'I...' she hesitated, 'I'm interested in many things.'

'Like what?' Cecilia pressed.

Pavela's gaze involuntarily drifted to the other side of the hall.

That's where the male nobles were gathered, discussing something.

She faintly heard a few words—'frontline situation', 'military expansion', 'mecha production', 'new steam engine'...

She was quite interested in those topics.

'What are you looking at?' Charlotte followed her gaze and then laughed, 'Oh, are you interested in the boys?'

'What? No—'

'Does Pavela have someone she likes?' Victoria immediately got excited, 'Who is it? Tell us!'

'I don't—'

'Don't be shy!' another girl said, 'We're all friends here!'

Pavela took a deep breath.

Calm down.

Calm down.

They're just a group of harmless little girls.

They mean no harm.

They're just... too enthusiastic.

Too enthusiastic.

So enthusiastic that she wanted to run away.

She looked again in Eleanor's direction.

Eleanor was chatting with some nobles her age, holding a glass of champagne, her demeanor elegant and composed.

She seemed to sense Pavela's gaze and turned her head.

Their eyes met across the room.

Pavela desperately signaled with her eyes:

Help me.

Help me.

Please help me.

I really can't handle this.

Eleanor understood her plea.

Then, she smiled slightly. freewebnøvel.coɱ

She raised her champagne glass and gave a distant toast in Pavela's direction.

Then she turned back and continued chatting with her friends.

Pavela felt a bit desperate.

'Pavela? Pavela?' Victoria waved her hand in front of her, 'What are you thinking about?'

'Nothing.'

Pavela looked away, putting on that 'appropriate smile' again, 'I'm just... a little tired.'

'Oh, are we being too noisy?' Victoria said apologetically, 'I'm sorry, you just got back from the battlefield, you must still be recovering...'

'It's fine.' Pavela shook her head, 'I just—'

'Then take a rest!'

Victoria interrupted her, 'Here, sit down!'

She pushed Pavela onto a sofa.

'Cecilia, get her some water!'

'Charlotte, fan her!'

'Everyone, give her some space!'

Pavela sat on the sofa, watching these little girls bustle around her, feeling a strange sensation.

They genuinely cared about her.

Although their method was... a bit too enthusiastic.

But they did care about her.

This made Pavela feel at a loss.

On the battlefield, no one cared about you.

You were on your own, and you had to survive by yourself.

But now—

'Have some water.' Cecilia handed her a glass of water, her eyes holding an emotion Pavela couldn't understand, 'If you're really not feeling well, we can have someone call Eleanor.'

Pavela took the glass and sipped lightly.

'Thank you.'

She said, 'I'm fine, really.'

'That's good.'

Cecilia sat down beside her, 'I know this kind of occasion might make you uncomfortable. After all, you're new here, and everything is unfamiliar.'

Pavela looked at her.

Cecilia's gaze was calm, not filled with the curiosity and enthusiasm of the others.

'If you have any questions, you can ask me.' Cecilia said, 'I'm not as... lively as Victoria, but I can answer your questions.'

Pavela opened her mouth.

'Why do you want to help me?'

Cecilia smiled slightly.

'Because I was like that when I was little.' She said,'Surrounded by a group of enthusiastic people, completely at a loss for what to do.'

Pavela blinked.

'So,' Cecilia continued, 'I understand how you feel.'

Just then, Victoria joined them again.

'What are you talking about? Count me in!'

'Victoria,' Cecilia sighed, 'can you be quiet for a moment—'

'No!'

Victoria replied confidently, then plopped down on the other side of Pavela, 'Pavela, what do you think of this banquet? Boring? Hungry? Want something to eat?'

Pavela began to wonder when this banquet would finally end.

She sneaked a glance at the other side of the hall.

The male nobles were still discussing the frontline situation, occasionally letting out low laughter.

She really wanted to go over and listen to what they were saying.

But she knew that as a 'noble miss', she couldn't do that.

She could only sit here, surrounded by a group of enthusiastic peers, maintaining that 'appropriate smile'.

Pavela von Schwartz.

Once Pavel Ivanovich Sokolov.

Was now being treated like a mascot by a group of noble misses.

Life was so ironic.