Prologue

I took a long, deep breath, then another. After a few more, I slowly opened my eyes. In front of me were intricately carved double doors decorated with black, wrought-iron ornaments. I gazed upon their massive threshold, which led to the palace’s great hall.

The majority of guests had already made their entrance and were enjoying their time as they pleased. The only ones who remained were members of the royal family and a married couple—me and Sir Leonhart.

I don’t want to, whispered my heart. When I imagined being exposed to the stares of a slew of people ogling me like a rare animal, I wanted to do a one-eighty and go home. I hated standing out. Being rudely looked up and down, having my every move scrutinized, and constantly being criticized were all disconcerting and made me sick. If allowed, I’d flee and seclude myself in my territory for the rest of my life.

“Bad. I’m the one who made this decision,” I admonished myself quietly.

My mutterings couldn’t be heard by the knights standing on either side of the door, but they reached Sir Leonhart’s ears, since he was standing right next to me.

“Rose?”

I smiled, my eyebrows drooping. “I’m feeling a bit nervous.”

Sir Leonhart placed his hand atop my hand, which was looped over his arm. He gently squeezed my fingers to reassure me.

“It’ll be all right. I’m right by your side.”

“Yes.” Just hearing those words calmed me down. I’m quite the calculating woman.

A few moments later, I heard them announce the entrance of the Duchess and Duke of Prelier from within the hall.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“Yes.”

The knights grabbed the handles on their respective sides and opened the mighty door with a solemn creak. A din that sounded like waves filtered through the gap, along with the dazzling light radiating from chandeliers.

I took a step into that pandemonium of rampaging evil spirits—uh, I mean, the soiree hosted by the royal family.

The Reincarnated Duchess’s Respite

I have an ideal image of a pregnant woman. She sits in a nice, sunny place while crocheting, and from time to time, she rests and places her hand on her stomach, a tranquil smile gracing her face.

That Virgin Mary-esque picture was what I envisioned.

Obviously, I didn’t think I could be like that. I, a woman labeled a wild boar by her own father, could never be so presumptuous. However, I hoped to converge toward that ideal, even if only by a little.

After forming a loop with the wool yarn, I pulled yarn through with my crochet hook. I repeated the same step over and over until I had made a small circle, and then I stopped. I released the breath I’d been holding and looked up at the ceiling.

“I don’t think crocheting is my thing,” I muttered to no one in particular.

I knew this. I had known before I’d even picked up the hook. I did not have dexterous fingers, and I’d always been horrible at the compulsory subjects typical of noblewomen—like embroidery. As a matter of fact, I had avoided homely activities like crocheting and sewing in my past life too. I liked cooking, but I was strangely inept when it came to needlework.

I had thought my pregnancy would be a good opportunity to conquer this weakness, but it wasn’t an easy endeavor. I was too hung up on not making any mistakes and kept unconsciously holding my breath. Because of that, even crocheting the tiniest chains consumed a considerable amount of time. On top of that, despite my efforts, the finished product was extremely mediocre. I’d lost count of how many times I’d unraveled and restarted.

Maybe it’d be better to leave this to the pros, I thought in resignation. But then I frantically shook my head. It’s too early to give up. And don’t think about how babies seem happier with store-bought goods either. I somehow rallied my dejected emotions and gripped my hook once more.

I drew a deep breath, as though I were about to dive underwater, but right then, someone called out to me.

“Excuse me, my lady.”

It was one of my maids. She was supposed to have been waiting upon me from a distance near the doorway, but the next thing I knew, she was right beside me. She hesitated for a moment before resolutely continuing.

“If you’d like, how about a short break? Excessive overwork will strain your body.”

“A fine idea. Why don’t we warm up some milk for you?”

“We located some sweets that are popular in the capital. We shall bring them out as well.”

As soon as one maid spoke up, the other two chimed in to back her up. I wasn’t feeling particularly tired, but it was difficult to say no to them. I put on a slight smile and asked them to do so. The three of them beamed brightly at me and nodded.

I feel like leisurely crocheting in a nice, sunny room is a break in and of itself, but oh well. Let’s not think about it too deeply.

Ever since it’d come to light that I was pregnant, everyone in the duchy had become extremely high-strung. If I tried to hold something or if I quickened my pace, voices crying for me to stop came from every direction, and someone would rush to my side.

In my opinion, they were going too far with the overprotectiveness, but seeing as my husband was the lead instigator, no one could stop it. At this rate, I had the foreboding feeling that I would become unable to do anything by the time I gave birth, but I hadn’t yet devised a way to stop them. I knew they were worried about me, and I didn’t want to disregard their kindness.

“My lady, where shall we prepare the tea?”

“Hmm? Here is fine.”

The maid, who had been merrily readying the tea, suddenly stopped. At a loss, my three maids exchanged glances, urging one another to speak up with their gazes.

Why are they reacting like that over where I’m to drink tea? Generally speaking, I enjoy having tea outside. Given the season and weather, the garden gazebo would be the perfect spot. However, everyone is worried that I’ll get chilly, so I’ve put a pause on outdoor teatime. Once I reach my stable period, I think I should get permission for short stints outside, though.

Finally, one of the maids yielded to the intimidating stares of the other two. “Please pardon my impertinence, but, um...” She trailed off timidly. “Perhaps you could invite your husband...?”

I tilted my head to the side. “Leon? But he’s working.”

“Erm...”

Since my condition made me prone to anemia, I was currently taking a break from work, per doctor’s orders. Hence, Sir Leonhart was acting as the head of the duchy and had taken over all my responsibilities. My plan was to remain on vacation until my health stabilized and then help where I could without overdoing it. As things were, I wouldn’t be able to do anything if I hung around him, so the least I could do was keep my distance from the office. I didn’t want to be a hindrance.

When I hear discussions happening, I can’t help but want to join in. Staying away is an act of self-restraint.

“Besides, he came to check on me not too long ago.”

“Yes, that’s right.” My maids, normally elegant and eloquent, sounded evasive now. They looked like they had something to say but were hesitant to speak their minds.

Perhaps it’s a topic that they can’t bluntly broach with their boss? It’d be ideal if I could solve this by reading their expressions, but I’m sorry to say, I haven’t a clue. Judging by their faces, my maids want me to invite Sir Leonhart for tea, but I don’t know why. He comes to see me whenever he has a spare moment from work. In fact, he was here a mere hour ago. I’d be interfering with his work if I invited him for tea.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” I said.

“A bother? On the contrary, it’d be the opposite,” one of my maids said quietly.

Confused, I looked at her with wide eyes. I was about to ask her what she meant by that when, as if on cue, someone knocked on the door.

“Yes? Come in,” I said.

There was a short pause before the door swung open. My husband stepped through the doorway wearing a sheepish smile.

“Leon? Is something wrong?” Surprise took over my face for a split second before I reined in my expression. It hasn’t been long since his last visit, so it must be something urgent. I mentally prepared myself for whatever trouble our territory was in.

Sir Leonhart’s eyebrows drooped as he struggled for words. “I was wondering what you were doing.”

His words were so far from my expectations that they threw me for a loop. I almost blurted out, “We just saw each other!” but I hastily suppressed the urge. Sir Leonhart will probably feel down if I say that. I have no grounds for assuming that, but I don’t think I’m off the mark, given that sad puppy look on his face.

He walked up to the sofa where I was sitting and took a seat next to me. I put down my yarn and crochet hook on the table, and he gently enveloped my hand in his.

“Leon?”

“I’m fully aware of how pathetic I am, but...” Though he fumbled to find the right words, he still pressed on with determination. “If it wouldn’t bore you, could you sit in the office?”

“Huh?”

“I’m so beside myself with worry that I can’t focus on work,” Sir Leonhart said in a defiant tone. He still found it embarrassing to admit, and a light blush dusted his cheeks when he saw my dumbfounded expression. The way he looked down and away was oddly sexy—it was a feast for my eyes.

“Does she feel unwell? Is anything ailing her? Is she bored and upset because she’s confined indoors? Such questions plague my mind, and I can’t make any progress at all.”

We’ve been apart for less than an hour, and he’s already thinking all that? Joy from feeling loved and surprise that he was being such a worrywart clashed inside my heart. All the while, I felt conflicted—his concerns indirectly proved how little poise I had as a person. The memory of when I’d fainted in front of him likely still lingered in his mind.

“Won’t I be a nuisance?” I asked.

“Not at all,” he replied without hesitation. “If anything, I’ll make more progress if you deign to stay by my side.”

His aide and my three maids nodded behind him.

So this is why my maids were so keen to suggest I take a break with Sir Leonhart. He’s been coming to check up on me every one to two hours, and I thought that was excessive, but what if he’s been coming to my door more than that? Imagining him loitering in front of the door before dejectedly returning to the office made me giggle.

“Then I will do as you say,” I said.

“Thank you.” My beloved husband gave me an adorable, boyish smile.

We moved to the office, our hands intertwined all the while. Sir Leonhart led me to the area for guests near the window. The dark-brown low table was a masterpiece carved from a single slab of wood that had been harvested from a walnut tree over a hundred years old. It was devoid of any ostentatious decorations, and its simplicity highlighted its elegance. The leather chesterfield sofa beside it was a deep coffee brown that matched the table. It was comfortable to sink into, and it had the perfect amount of give that rivaled the favorite memory foam mattress I’d owned in my previous life.

Needless to say, top-of-the-line furniture came with a hefty price tag. I wouldn’t have been able to afford the set myself since I’d invested all my finances into the hospital facilities. I wasn’t sure who’d selected the items—perhaps it was my father, who had a propensity for authentic items, or my mother, who had good taste in interior design—but I had received obscenely high-quality furnishings.

I had intended to use this set for business negotiations and meetings in the near future—who would have thought its debut would be gorgeously decorated with a tea stand, a teapot, and even a vase of flowers? Such thoughts flew through my head as I watched my maids assiduously prepare our beverages.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Milk, please.”

“Understood.”

I had a craving for black tea, but I was avoiding caffeine while pregnant. Maybe I should ask Lord Julius to find a noncaffeinated tea.

“Rose, there’s a letter for you.”

“A letter?”

Sir Leonhart handed me an envelope that our butler had brought in. My pregnancy hadn’t been formally announced yet. It was only known to me, Sir Leonhart, our respective families, friends, and those still left in the Prelier domain.

It can’t be a congratulatory letter from family. But it’s far too soon to receive anything from the people we’ve notified. I only just recently sent out correspondence. Perhaps it’s an invitation to a tea party or a soiree.

“Who’s it from?” I asked.

There were two letters sitting on top of the tray. The first was in a plain envelope sealed with green wax. It was stamped with a leaf motif that I’d designed for the Khuer tribe.

“This one’s from Wolf. The other is from...Miss Irene?”

The other envelope was pure white and sealed with silver-colored wax. It had an intricate stamp that looked like a magic circle, which, if memory served, was the seal of the Head Sorceress, Miss Irene. I broke the seal of both letters with a paper knife.

“What do they say?” Sir Leonhart asked.

“Both are to inform us of their upcoming visits.”

They weren’t coming on official business—they wanted to visit purely for personal purposes. Besides the standard salutations and apology for the short notice, both letters were along the lines of “I’m swinging by, but once I’m done with my business I’ll be off, so don’t mind me.”

Although I was close to them, they were usually courteous people who would make an appointment with multiple days of advance notice for any visitations. This means they must be in quite a hurry. Considering the timing, it’s possible it’s related to my pregnancy. I wonder what they’re here to do.

I tilted my head to the side as I savored the subtly sweet milk.

Wolf’s carriage arrived in the afternoon two days after I received his letter. The knights of the second division, led by Captain Gunther von Kolbe, secured the perimeter. The carriage stopped in front of the entrance, and its door swung open. Stepping out was Wolf—actually, not Wolf...

“Lily?”

“Lady Mary!” She practically jogged over when she spotted me. “How is your health? Any nausea? Are you in any pain? Oh, I heard you’re prone to anemia. Is it safe for you to remain standing?”

Her rapid-fire questions flustered me. I’ve never seen Lily speak this quickly before.

“Wait, Lily. Settle down.” I hadn’t noticed him walk up, but Wolf now stood behind Lily, trying to calm her with an exasperated look. He lightly tapped the back of her head.

She gasped, snapping back to her senses. “I’m sorry.” Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, and she hung her head.

This may be rude to think of a woman who’s older than me, but she looks very cute when crestfallen.

Wolf smiled dryly at Lily and then faced me. His gaze met mine before swiveling to Sir Leonhart next to me.

“I have a lot I’d like to say, but first, congratulations,” he said.

“Yes, congratulations!” Lily chimed in.

“Thank you,” I said. Being congratulated certainly makes me giddy, and it has double the effect coming from friends and family.

I bit back happy tears. Sir Leonhart gently held my hand. We gazed at each other and smiled.

“My, my, my! Showing off now, are we?”

My head snapped up at Wolf. He grinned at me.

“This is the last thing I want to see as a bachelor,” he said with a sigh. Contrary to his words, his expression was teasing.

Feeling abashed, I tried to let go of Sir Leonhart’s hand, but he intertwined his fingers with mine.

“L-Leon...”

“You’ll let us off the hook if we get carried away just for today. Right?” He wore a benign smile, but there was a force behind it that left no room for protest.

Wolf squinted in disapproval, a stark contrast to my red-faced and flabbergasted expression. “I doubt you’ll only act like this today, though.”

Gunther nodded emphatically at that. Sir Leonhart glared at him.

“Gunther, you look like you have something to say.”

The captain brought his hand to his chest and bowed deeply. “No, no. Nothing at all. I apologize for the late greeting. Duchess, Lord Commander, congratulations to your growing family. Best wishes from the bottom of my heart.” He replaced the blatant grimace on his face with a vacuous smile.

This man is also quite the oddball. I heard the two of them are old friends who were knighted around the same time. There aren’t many who can banter with Sir Leonhart like this, so Gunther’s quite valuable to have around.

Though I wanted to drink in the rare CG of my fave’s grumpy expression, we couldn’t just stand here chatting in front of the door. I invited everyone inside, and we moved to the parlor. I was about to ask my maids to prepare drinks, but Wolf stopped me.

“Don’t you have more guests coming later? We’ll be on our way as soon as we finish our business, so no need for all the fuss.”

Evidently, they truly intended to leave as soon as they finished their business. I had informed them in my reply that Miss Irene also planned to visit the same day, so they were being considerate.

“Miss Irene is also visiting for private matters. Actually, she asked for you to join us if you didn’t mind,” I said.

“Huh, really?”

“Yes. She said she would like to inquire about the hospital, new medicine developments, and so on.”

When it had still been undecided where the medical facility would be constructed, the Khuer tribe had been temporarily safeguarded in the palace. They’d needed permission to use the greenhouse, so they’d become acquainted with Miss Irene. The head sorceress grew medicinal herbs, so there was no way she wouldn’t have hit it off with a tribe of doctors. I’d witnessed them excitedly having technical conversations in hushed voices.

“We haven’t made any notable progress—nothing that deserves to be reported to the head sorceress. Will that be okay?” Wolf asked.

“Perhaps she can give us useful advice,” Lily said.

Wolf thought for a moment and then nodded. “Good point.”

For some reason, Gunther’s eyes began to twinkle from where he stood guard behind them.

“Oh, but we’ll tire Mary out if we overstay our welcome,” Wolf pointed out.

“We can’t have that. Let’s go home!” Lily said, promptly changing her stance.

Gunther was reeling in shock now. His reactions had been distracting me the entire time, and I struggled to pay attention to the conversation. Sir Leonhart also seemed to have noticed—he was shooting his friend an annoyed look.

Does Sir Leonhart know why Gunther’s behaving so strangely?

“My condition is stable right now, so don’t worry about me,” I assured them. “If anything, I have too much time on my hands. I would be delighted if you’d chat with me.”

“In that case, I suppose we could stay a little longer,” Wolf agreed.

Gunther’s expression brightened again. He beamed at me with eyes full of gratitude. I had a feeling he wanted to see Miss Irene.

I was aware Gunther held a torch for someone. I’d heard she’s an older woman who works in the capital, but I assumed it wasn’t anyone I knew, so I never pressed him for details. But thinking about it now, the description matches. Gunther mentioned that his crush wanted to settle down in Prelier after she left the front lines. And according to what I heard from Lutz and Teo, Miss Irene has been talking about moving to Prelier after she retires.

Could it be?

While conjectures formed in my mind, the butler came to inform us that Miss Irene had arrived. As soon as Gunther heard that, his cheeks flushed, and I knew my deduction was correct. Although I was unrelated to the matter, it felt like spring was in the air, and it gave me the jitters.

My restlessness put a strange look on Sir Leonhart’s face. Even if he asked me what was the matter, I would only be able to deflect with a vague smile.

Not long after, a servant guided Miss Irene to us. Since she was here not as the head sorceress but for private purposes, she was dressed in a fog-blue day dress with a high neck instead of the robes I was used to seeing her in.

Though her attire sported a conservative color and design, it was by no means plain. The blue-tinged gray of her dress contrasted nicely with her black hair—she gave off the atmosphere of a mysterious beauty. It was boorish to be curious about a lady’s age, but I was once again questioning it.

I can’t believe she’s older than my mother... No, my mother’s age is also as indeterminate as hers. Have all the women around me mastered the art of eternal youth? And Miss Irene’s timelessness isn’t the only thing that’s incredible about her—she has the poise of a woman who’s lived many years. It adds a certain allure to her intellectual beauty. She truly has the best of both worlds. When people talk about beautiful witches, they’re talking about women like her, huh?

Still as gorgeous as ever—no, even more gorgeous than before—Miss Irene’s beauty captivated Gunther. Thought so. Just as I predicted. I regarded him with a warm look.

However, though Gunther couldn’t take his eyes off of Miss Irene, she didn’t even seem to notice him. Her obsidian eyes locked onto me straight through her monocle.

“Princess.” A broad smile spread across her clever, gorgeous face. She strode up to where I stood in front of the sofa and enveloped my right hand with both of hers. “Congratulations. I couldn’t sit still after receiving such joyful tidings, so against my better judgment, I barged in on you.”

Miss Irene, who was like the human embodiment of the phrases “cool, calm, and collected” and “steady as a rock,” was beaming at me with shining eyes. I’d anticipated that she was here to congratulate me, but I hadn’t thought she’d be so over the moon, as though my joy were her own. I was surprised and touched at the same time. I could feel my tear ducts stirring.

“Th-Thank you!” I held back my tears and returned her grip.

Miss Irene laughed jovially. “To think that the little princess is going to be a mother. I’m getting old.”

She’d known me since I was a child, so I was deeply moved to hear those words from her. She had a faraway look in her eyes as she took a trip down memory lane. Yeah, a lot has happened since then. I also began to reminisce, but all that came to mind were embarrassing memories, so I stopped.

“Miss Irene, you’ve witnessed many of my pathetic moments.” Like when Lutz and Teo got kidnapped and I was so overwrought with worry that I was on the brink of tears. Or that time I was fawning over my pet cat and talking to him.

“Oh? All I recall are good memories. Full of cute moments that not even your husband has seen.”

“Could you tell me more?” Sir Leonhart asked.

“Please stop!”

I couldn’t tell if Miss Irene was helping me or trying to expose me, but Sir Leonhart jumped at the opportunity faster than I could speak up. I frantically tried to stop her, but he looked at me with pleading eyes.

Even if you look at me like that, I can’t allow what I can’t allow! Who would let the person they love hear old stories of when they weren’t even a wild boar yet but a pitiful piglet?

Wolf sighed. “Hey now, you three. You can catch up on old times once you’ve settled down. How about you take a seat first?”

At Wolf’s exasperated urging, we exchanged looks and smiled wryly. Miss Irene greeted everyone before she sat down. She was already familiar with everyone present, so it was quick work. When she reached Gunther, I watched them nervously.

“It’s been a long time, Lord Kolbe. It relieves me to see that you are doing well.”

“Y-Yes. And you too, Head Sorceress Altman...”

I was dumbfounded by how bashful Gunther was acting. Who on earth is that? The Gunther I know is a smug man who would lightheartedly greet someone and even throw in a compliment. He’s a gentleman who’s kind to ladies, but he’s clever enough to know exactly where the line is, so he’s never mistaken for flirting. I heard he was rejected by his crush multiple times, but I figured she wasn’t taking him seriously because he was trying to woo her with his usual flippant attitude. I never would’ve guessed he was the type to become awkward around the object of his affections.

But given the way he’s acting, there’s no way she’s gotten the message! He claims she turned him down, but there’s a pretty good chance Miss Irene doesn’t even know Gunther has feelings for her. And what was that “And you too, Head Sorceress Altman”? The usual Gunther would sneak in some praise! At the very least, say something like “You’re as beautiful as always”!

“I heard rumors, but I’m surprised to see you actually reside in Prelier now,” Miss Irene remarked.

Gunther hesitated for a beat. “The duchess’s ideology left a strong impression on me.”

Don’t lie. You moved here because Miss Irene said she wanted to move here after retirement, and you took that seriously. You’re a proactive stalker.

“Is Prelier comfortable to live in?” Miss Irene asked.

“The town is as warm as its people. It’s a wonderful place.”

“I’m envious. I wish I could switch places with you.”

“W-With pleasure.”

No, not “with pleasure”! You don’t want to switch places! I understand the joy of being depended upon, but all your effort would be for nothing if you changed places. Realize that.

Their exchange was short, but I found myself fatigued after it ended. I think I caught a glimpse as to why Gunther’s love has been unrequited for so many years. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do for you. Please come again after you’ve worked a little harder on your own.

I silently decided Gunther was a lost cause and offered Miss Irene a seat. I was about to request that my maids brew a new batch of black tea since ours had gone cold, but then, a small “ah” slipped out of Wolf’s mouth. It seemed he’d suddenly remembered something.

“Come to think of it, I almost forgot our main purpose for coming today.” Wolf rummaged through his bag and pulled out a pouch.

I took it from him and opened it. Inside was what looked like some kind of grain. Seeds? Or beans? Perplexed, I tilted my head to the side. That was when the aroma hit me, and my eyes widened.

“This is...” I uttered.

“It’s barley tea. You can drink it during pregnancy,” he said.

Barley tea! I’ve never seen it in this world, not once! To think it was so close to me all this time.

“You drink black tea regularly, right? But it’s not good for your health to drink too much of it. On that note, though this tea has a unique fragrance, it’s healthy for you...” Wolf smiled when he saw how eagerly I inhaled the aromatic scent. “Hmm, it seems I don’t have to try to convince you.”

“I rather like this fragrance,” I said.

“That’s good to hear. Lily worked hard to roast it for you.”

“I poured my love into it!”

“I will drink it with relish.” I was all smiles until I noticed the beleaguered expression on Miss Irene’s face. “Miss Irene? Is something the matter?”

“It seems we were of the same mind.”

“Huh?”

She placed her hand on her cheek, and her shapely brows drooped sadly. “When I heard you were with child, I also searched for something healthy. A merchant I’m well acquainted with recommended me a tea produced in Flanmer.”

The tea she had purchased had been advertised as a beverage that children and pregnant women could drink at ease. The tin it came in had a pretty design. I opened the lid, and the same pleasant fragrance I’d smelled seconds ago wafted through the air.

I can’t believe she also brought barley tea! Now that I think about it, the Khuer tribe is from Flanmer. This might be a fairly mainstream product over there.

“I’m sorry. Now I’ve gone and troubled you,” Miss Irene said.

“Not at all! I was in a predicament because I couldn’t drink black tea, so I’m very grateful.”

“But...” Miss Irene must’ve thought I was being considerate, but I was genuinely happy.

“Lately, I’ve become sensitive to certain scents, but I like this fragrance. Thanks to the two of you, I won’t have any trouble staying hydrated.”

“Princess...” Miss Irene’s eyes softened.

I thanked her once again, and she replied with a bashful “You’re welcome.”

After that, we joked about how they’d brought the same gift and otherwise had a lively time. We enjoyed conversing for about two hours, and then I saw Miss Irene, Wolf, and Lily off. I was thrilled to have had such a fun chat with people I hadn’t seen in a long time.

Then, I suddenly remembered something.

Come to think of it, the only time Gunther and Miss Irene exchanged words was their initial greeting. I decided early on that he was a lost cause, but still, I had planned to throw him a bone by directing the conversation his way occasionally. I was having such a good time that I forgot... Sorry.

A week passed after Wolf, Lily, and Miss Irene’s visit, and my pregnancy was publicly announced. I received a flood of congratulatory letters from many households, as well as requests to meet in person. I had expected some reaction, but not to this degree.

I would understand if they were families I have personal relations with, like the Eigels, or households that have a close connection to the royal family. Branch families follow in the footsteps of the main family, so they’re also within expectations. However, I’ve received mail from houses that I’ve never even interacted with.

When I questioned why that was the case, something came to mind.

It’s probably because of this. Sighing, I stared at the packages that filled part of the room. There were an overwhelming number of items. There were so many that I couldn’t help but want to look off into the distance. The corner was crammed full of furniture and bolts of fabric. Smaller items like toys were piled high, still in their boxes.

The sender of all that was the royal family. Basically, this was the work of my parents and brothers. The day after my pregnancy had been announced to the public, several carriages had arrived at the Prelier residence. They’d rolled up, guarded by a staunch squad of knights, and the royal crest had shone brilliantly on the carriage doors. It must’ve garnered the attention—and possibly the disgust—of all the nobles gathered in the capital for the high season. My family had likely pulled this stunt on purpose.

“I’m thankful, but they didn’t have to go this far,” I muttered to myself.

My husband smiled wryly from where he stood next to me. “It shows just how much they treasure you.”

This mountain of presents is the eccentric behavior of my parents suddenly bursting with affection for their future grandchild... Yeah, no way. Probably not.

In this world, I stood out in many ways. I was the first duchess regnant in the world and the pioneer of the world’s first medical facility project. On top of all that, the territory I’d been conferred was growing rapidly, so it made sense that everything I did attracted attention.

And I understood that not all attention would be of the favorable sort. There were people out there who simply hated the success of others. Plus, I was a young woman—that was enough grounds for more than a few people to despise me in a world that didn’t have the concept of equality.

Also, I was appointing personnel based on their talent without regard for their background, even though I’d been born into an aristocratic society. Taking into account the fact that I’d welcomed the entire Khuer tribe—a tribe from another nation—there were surely people hostile toward me.

However, they couldn’t antagonize me openly. Although I was no longer royalty in name, I was still the king’s daughter. Publicly denouncing me was far too risky. Nevertheless, there was no guarantee that those people would simply watch quietly next time.

Most of my opposition was waiting to see how things played out. For all the ostentatious number of titles to my name, my lifestyle was quite modest. I only attended the bare minimum number of social gatherings, so there was very little information on me.

How was my relationship with the king and queen? How close was I to my brothers, especially the crown prince? Many people were speculating on such questions with bated breath. If it turned out I was on bad terms with the crown prince, the drawbacks of befriending me would outweigh the benefits. Plus, now that I was with child and the crown prince was still unmarried, there was the quandary about succession.

My family had made the first move to subvert any wearisome calculations and tactical diplomacy. This mountain of gifts was the royal family letting everyone know that they celebrated Rosemary von Prelier’s pregnancy from the bottom of their hearts. There was no room to suspect that my relationships with my parents or brothers were anything but excellent. It was basically a statement to those who opposed me: If you, for some unlikely reason, decide to go after her, understand that the royal family will have her back.

They’d done this to ensure that followers of the crown prince wouldn’t try to harm me and my child. On top of that, their grand display of affection would make my path easier to walk as I continued to forge ahead with new, progressive policies.

“You are loved.”

“I worry I’ll get carried away if they pamper me excessively.”

“I think they do this because they know you would never.” Sir Leonhart pulled me in close by my waist in one practiced motion. “You’re not very good at depending on others.”

“I depend on you a lot, though.”

“No, you don’t. Not nearly enough,” he replied firmly.

I was struck speechless. Am I that bad? Am I so bad at depending on others that he has to use such a forceful tone?

“You’re hardworking and tenacious. Ordinarily, those would be positive traits, but for those of us watching over you, it worries us to death. After all, no matter how much pain or suffering you go through, you clench your teeth and endure.”

“Th-That’s not true...”

“It is. Look, the king himself took action without any prompting. Please recognize this fact.”

I had no rebuttal. There’s no statement more persuasive than that. It’s my father we’re talking about here. He’s the man who didn’t go easy on his own daughter when she was a child and always demands equal compensation for his help. For that man to make a move free of charge must mean it’s a serious matter.

“It still holds true even now,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not feeling very well, are you?” His arm, wrapped around my waist, tightened slightly as he spoke. He pulled me close, as though he were entreating me to lean on him.

“I’m not too—”

“Please don’t say that it’s normal to be unwell during pregnancy.”

He gave me the stink eye, and I instinctively swallowed the rest of my sentence.

“Everyone in the mansion is aware that your appetite has decreased. And we know that even though there are fewer foods that fit your palate because of morning sickness, you force yourself to consume what’s in front of you anyway.”

I sank into silence, unable to refute his words. It was true; because my morning sickness had started, the number of things I could stand had drastically plummeted. The smell of oil and meat made me nauseous, so I was prone to leaving main courses unfinished. I was surviving off of bread and fruit, but I fretted that it wouldn’t be enough nutrition for the baby. Hence, I put up with the nausea and forced food down the chute.

Perhaps it would be better if I requested dishes that I thought I could stomach, but it was hard to predict how my body would react since my condition varied from day to day. I would feel awful for putting the kitchen staff through all that trouble for nothing.

I asked for steamed fish and vegetables before, but in the end, I was only able to eat half of it. I also wasted the cake that Sir Leonhart bought for me. My servants tell me I should just eat whatever I like, but I’m sorry, I can’t do that. I’d hate to selfishly push people around because I’m pregnant.

“Rose.”

I jolted.

He took my hand and spun me like we were waltzing. I thought he’d turned me around to give me a hug from the front, but he peered down at me.

“Right now, you shouldn’t be worried about the feelings of those around you, and that includes mine. You shouldn’t force yourself to eat food you can’t stomach or stress about our finances.” He fixed his gaze straight on me—the serious glint in his eyes was almost scary. “What you should prioritize is your own health and our child’s. That’s all. Everything else is trivial and should not take up any space in your mind.”

“Leon...”

“I want you to be selfish. Tell me you want to eat this or buy that. Give me a shout, even when I’m working. Don’t hold back. If you want to go out to the garden, please call me anytime. If you want to eat outside because the weather is nice, or if you want sweets to be made with the fruit from the garden, let me know.”

I felt a pang in my chest, like my heart was being squeezed. Seeing Sir Leonhart desperately exhausting his vocabulary to convince me made me realize that I’d worried him again.

Because of my memories of when I was a Japanese person, I always feel guilty when I waste food. My aversion to wasting gifts—and feeling like it’s out of the question to abuse my power for my own convenience—are both mindsets that are deeply ingrained in me. Everyone around me more or less understands my way of thinking, so no one tries to force me to do anything. They brainstorm refreshing menus that a pregnant woman might be able to eat and find me delicious seasonal fruits.

Everyone watches over me in a considerate way that won’t bruise my heart. But when I give my history a second look, I see now that I’m awful at depending on other people. No wonder my father took it upon himself to do something.

Come to think of it, my parents didn’t send furniture or items only for children; there was also an exquisite-looking couch addressed to me. They even considered my need for clothes—the design and size are up in the air, but several of the fabric bolts and advance orders for a tailor are presents for me. My mother left a note on the fabrics that are to be used for maternity dresses—all of which have nice textures and are of the finest quality.

It was then that the realization truly hit me.

Oh. I’m very loved.

Joy took root in my heart.

“Is it okay if I impose on you?” I wrapped my hands around Sir Leonhart’s back and squeezed him in return. With my ear pressed against his chest, I could hear his breath hitch.

He looked at me eagerly. “Of course. Whether it be a cake baked by the palace pâtissier or fruit from a distant kingdom, whatever you wish for will be yours. It matters not if it is a tree that produces gems or a jewel that hangs from a dragon’s neck; I will grant whatever you desire.”

Which moon am I the princess of? I’m cracking up! I looked up and met Sir Leonhart’s eyes, which were brimming with expectation.

“In that case... I want cookies.”

“Cookies?” His puzzled expression had Is that all? written all over it.

I nodded, answering his unvoiced question. “Mm-hmm. Leon, I want you to bake me cookies.”

“What?”

The stunned look on Sir Leonhart’s face was oh so very funny. I couldn’t hold back anymore and burst into laughter.

The Lord Commander’s Struggle

One afternoon in the manor’s kitchen...

Two large men were staring wordlessly at a sheet pan. The atmosphere, coupled with the fact that this was a place where fires were nurtured, made for a blisteringly stifling scene. However, I—Leonhart von Prelier—and the man standing next to me could not afford to dwell on the heat at the moment.

I was the first to break the silence. “Klaus.”

“What is it?” he replied after a pause. He glanced at me, his gaze icy and grim.

“Can you call these cookies?”

“No. These would be charcoal.” Then he added, in a tone as cold as his gaze, “Or garbage.”

His phrasing was rather rude, but in all honesty, I was of the same opinion, so I didn’t argue. “As I thought,” I muttered, my shoulders sagging.

Rose’s small, selfish request was to eat cookies baked by yours truly, so I was taking a crack at baking—an activity I had little experience with—to grant it. However, I was doing far worse than I’d anticipated. The lumps of flour lining the tray were long past the beautiful golden brown of a fox and were more like a shade of black bear. The dough had looked like dry clay before I’d even put them in the oven, so failure had already been inevitable by that point. I’d bet on a sliver of hope and baked them anyway, but a miracle had not occurred.

I picked up a lump of coal and tossed it into my mouth. It had a gritty texture and a strong, bitter taste. My face scrunched up at the burnt smell that filled my nose.

My wife was a skilled cook, and the cookies she made were buttery, crispy, and chewy, and they practically melted in your mouth. On top of that, one could enjoy her wide repertoire of flavors, like black tea or citrus, and even enjoy the crunchy texture of nuts. I didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but her cookies were so delicious that even I couldn’t help reaching for more.

I knew I couldn’t match Rose’s skills, but this is just plain terrible. If Rose’s creations are cookies, then this is nothing but charcoal trash.

“I knew it... It’d be better if I had someone instructing me every step of the way,” I muttered.

When I had the chef teach me how to make cookies, I should’ve asked for a demonstration instead of just listening to a verbal explanation. And I should’ve summarized the steps on a piece of paper and drilled them into my brain. I intended to prepare as much as possible, but I underestimated my incompetence.

“That would be a surefire way to success, but you’d be hard-pressed to call that handmade by you,” Klaus pointed out.

“Urgh,” I groaned.

As a matter of fact, a chef had stayed with me until I’d finished measuring the ingredients. It must have been mortifying to silently watch me clumsily do a slipshod job—the chef had eventually taken away my task nonchalantly, and I’d ended up just standing there halfway through. Therefore, this product couldn’t be attributed to one person’s work. Frankly, I’d been unable to order that poor chef to stand back and watch when they’d looked like they were getting a stomachache.

After all the ingredients had been assembled and measured, I’d declared to the kitchen that I would do the rest myself, and all the chefs had reluctantly stepped outside. Only Klaus had refused to bend. In his words, “It would be outrageous to allow Lady Rosemary to eat something when I don’t know what’s inside.”

So Klaus had stood to the side as an observer. Somehow, I’d managed to finish baking the cookies while he’d quibbled over my every move, but the result was as described: I absolutely did not want to feed these to my wife.

“Wasn’t Lady Rosemary merely jesting in the first place?” Klaus asked.

“Well, perhaps.” She was probably only about twenty percent serious and eighty percent joking. I presume she said that with the intention of teasing me. “Nevertheless, it was a rare show of selfishness, so I want to grant her wish.”

Rose is terrible at asking for help, and she loathes inconveniencing others. She doesn’t even make menu requests to the kitchen out of fear that she might waste the chefs’ efforts. She gave me—and only me—a clear-cut selfish demand. That put me over the moon. So even if it was a joke, it’s a given that I’d want to grant her wish.

I was lost in blissful reminiscence when I heard a loud cluck from my side. It seemed my expression had melted because Klaus was glaring hateful daggers at me. He had never been shy about displaying how he felt about me, but lately, he seemed to have even fewer reservations.

“Hey now,” I warned.

“Pardon me. There was something stuck in my teeth.” Klaus put on an aloof expression and turned away.

I swallowed my complaint and sighed instead. At this point, it’s far too late to reprimand him for his poor attitude. Nothing will change—he’ll simply toss out an empty apology. Besides, courtesy or respect for his superiors is not what I want from Klaus. All I ask is that he be Rose’s loyal guard, and there’s no one I trust more than Klaus on that front.

“I’ll remake them,” I decided.

“Please try not to waste too many ingredients,” he replied.

“I’m sure I’ll be a little more adept this time. It’ll be fine.” I ignored his dubious look, which said without words, Will it really?

I moved the charcoal cookies to the side and began measuring the ingredients once more.

“By the way, what is Rose doing now?” I asked.

“A short while ago, she was writing letters of thanks in the parlor, but she is currently taking a nap in her bedroom.”

“She’s struggling to sleep because of the nausea. She woke up several times last night... And her guards?”

“There are two knights stationed in front of her door. Ratte is standing guard outside.”

“I see.”

Ratte was a man as eccentric as Klaus, but his abilities and loyalty to Rose were indisputable. Apparently, he and Klaus did not mesh well, but they acknowledged each other’s skills.

“Due to His Majesty’s timely deterrent measures, there won’t be any conspicuous movements for the foreseeable future. However, the issue now is that his plan was too effective. I’m concerned that the spike in brownnosers has created far too much work for Lady Rosemary.”

“We intend to defer all meeting requests until Rose’s condition stabilizes.”

“Then she should also defer writing replies.” There was a deep crease carved between Klaus’s eyebrows.

To tell the truth, I also wished Rose would prioritize her own health. However, being overprotective would put mental strain on her. Moreover, for Rose—who had avoided mingling with high-ranking nobles since her time as a princess—exchanging letters was crucial to her social life. Originally, she had intended to proactively attend soirees and tea parties this year, but that was off the table now that she was pregnant, so it was all the more important that she stay on top of written correspondence.

I shook my head at Klaus. “Don’t say that. I’m also worried about Rose’s health, but we need to consider the long term. It’s better to gain more allies.”

“Even though they’re just turncoats who’ll change their tune depending on His Majesty’s movements?”

“Not everyone is like that.”

Klaus was partially right—there were indeed some people who’d only reached out because of the new knowledge that Rose was on good terms with the king and crown prince. However, there were also many who were interested in Rose for her achievements. Lumping everyone together under one negative perception would be a waste.

“Prelier is currently the most attention-grabbing domain in the kingdom, and now His Majesty has given people an additional reason to keep an eye on us. Those who will try to use and exploit Lady Rosemary’s people will be a dime a dozen,” Klaus insisted.

“Identifying those people is my duty. Besides...” I paused. Klaus urged me to continue with his gaze. “Besides, Rose isn’t so weak.”

She’s kind, but that’s not all. I know she’s fought tooth and nail this past year and a half to protect her subjects as their feudal lord and as the medical facility’s overseer.

“Neither you nor I should get in her way,” I said.

Deep down, I wanted to keep my beloved wife at a safe distance from danger. I harbored the desire to tuck her away deep inside the mansion so that no one could ever hurt her. But if I did that, all of Rose’s efforts would have been in vain. I knew Klaus also understood that. Though his lips were drawn into a thin line and his brow was furrowed, he didn’t argue.

He was sulking in silence now, so I called his name. “Klaus.”

“What is it?” He glowered at me.

“Back to the topic at hand, which one is flour?” After I had finished measuring the ingredients the first time, I’d put away all the surplus ingredients so they wouldn’t get in the way. I knew flour was in one of the jute bags, but there were multiple. Every single one contained whitish powder, and I couldn’t discern what was what.

After a lengthy silence, Klaus shook his head.

Will the day ever come when I can bake cookies? This will be a long journey... I listlessly hung my head.

It had been a week since my first attempt at baking, and I was once again reminded of how amazing cooks were. No matter how much Klaus and I floundered in the kitchen, I couldn’t envision success on the horizon, so I had quickly turned to the experts for help.

I’d studied under the tutelage of the head chef. He had supervised me constantly, and though he was astounded by my incompetence, he had patiently accompanied me. After much trial and error, today was the day it had all come together.

I had finished just in time for Rose’s break, but I was suddenly feeling embarrassed. My plan had been to mix the cookies in with the rest of the teatime snacks, but my unshapely cookies stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the dainty sweets, which were practically works of art.

Needless to say, Rose immediately noticed my work. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. Blinking nonstop, she reached for the white plate and picked up a deformed circle. She took a long, hard look at it and then turned her gaze toward me. Under the scrutiny of her eyes—blue like the clear sky after rain—my cheeks heated up. Wanting to flee, I looked away.

After a few seconds of silence, I heard the quiet crunch followed by the sound of her chewing. I timidly returned my gaze to her. The cookie in her hand was missing a piece. I gulped as I watched her soft cheeks move.

Rose broke into a smile as she met my nervous eyes, her face brimming with jubilation.

“It’s delicious.”

I was struck by a sensation I’d never experienced before. It differed slightly from familiar feelings like joy and pride. The bliss was intoxicating, as though a hole in my heart had been filled with something warm. It was the sense of accomplishment I felt from putting a smile on Rose’s face. And a strange satisfaction welled up inside of me from knowing that something I’d made was now a part of her flesh and blood.

I think I’m going to become addicted to this.

“I didn’t think you’d actually make me cookies. Wasn’t it difficult?” Rose asked as the cookies steadily disappeared from the plate. The soft crunching noises thrilled me to bits.

“I received much help from the kitchen,” I replied, “but I enjoyed it.”

“Do you like cooking now?”

“Yes.” That was only half true. I didn’t like cooking—I liked the act of making something for Rose. If something else made her happy, then I would gladly take up a different pastime. Gardening, embroidery, or even handicrafts—I would practice like mad if she would wear what I made. Thinking about it that way, I wouldn’t have objected if someone said that my wife was my hobby.

After she neatly cleaned off the plate, Rose put her hands together and blithely said, “Thank you for the cookies.”

“Did they really taste good?” I asked.

“Yes, they did. If you bake more, will you let me partake again?”

“Of course. With pleasure.”

Hearing the sincerity in my voice, she beamed at me, and that made me happy too. I’d like to try my hand at something a little more complex than cookies next time. The image of the head chef looking at me with a pale face that screamed, Please give me a break! floated through my mind, but I drove it away.

“I’m delighted it suited your fancy,” I said.

“The firmness and sweetness were perfect. I’m a bit surprised, actually. I thought cooking wasn’t one of your fortes,” Rose murmured. She took a sip of the barley tea that the head sorceress and the Khuer tribe had delivered.

I had no recollection of ever telling her that, but it seemed my wife had been aware of my incompetence. “I’m definitely not adept at it. In the beginning, every batch was a failure. I couldn’t even tell which bag was flour. Klaus and I were at our wits’ end.”

“Huh? Klaus?” Rose exclaimed in surprise. Her expression morphed into something ineffable. She looked like she had taken a bite of something she’d thought would be sweet, but it’d ended up being bitter.

I was confused. “Y-Yes. Klaus worried that I wouldn’t be able to make something respectable alone, so he watched me the entire time.”

“Incidentally...he didn’t have a direct hand in making them, did he?”

“No, he didn’t.” I shook my head. He nitpicked a lot, but he didn’t do anything.

Rose exhaled deeply, and her expression softened with relief.

Bewildered by her reaction, I called her name. “Rose?”

“Please carry on without receiving any help from him. I want you to make everything alone from beginning to end.”

I gave her a questioning look. “Very well.” Frankly, I wasn’t following the conversation. However, Rose didn’t seem to want to explain any further, so I didn’t push the subject.

She soon collected herself and changed the topic. “By the way, Leon, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

“Starting next week, I think we should open our doors to guests.”

“What of your health?” Half a month had passed since we’d been bombarded by letters from high-ranking nobles. I knew we shouldn’t keep them waiting for too long, but Rose’s appetite had continued to decrease from her morning sickness, and after witnessing her grow thinner by the day, my concern won out.

“It’s stabilized greatly. I wake up less frequently at night, and I think I’ll be much better by next week.”

“You’re forbidden from overexerting yourself.”

“I know.” Rose hesitated uncomfortably. “And...there’s one more thing.”

I gave her a questioning look.

Her gaze restlessly roamed the room—she glanced up at me from time to time to gauge my mood. She resembled an adorable small animal, and I found the sight heartwarming as I urged her to continue with my eyes.

“Oh, I was just thinking that before we return to Prelier...I’d like to attend a soiree.”

It took me a moment to process what she’d said. “Huh?” I uttered quietly.

Rose panicked when she saw my reaction. “Oh, naturally I’ll consult the doctor first. I won’t go without his approval. But, um, just once would be nice, so...” The wind left her sails with each word until her voice weakly trailed off.

Seeing her wilt like a flower made me realize how stiff my expression was. I exhaled and massaged my brow. After all, I didn’t want to frighten her. I gently grasped her hand, and she raised her head.

“May I ask why?” I tried to ask in as level a voice as possible.

“Well, the first reason is that I want to do my part as an advertisement,” she said.

Advertisement? What came to mind were the accessories supplied by that foreign nation. They were commodities that Rose anticipated would become a new source of income for Prelier. Rose had gifted a few pieces to the royal family, and she and I had different items as well. If we all wore them to an event, then they would definitely attract attention.

“Also, I can’t allow the image of me as a reclusive princess to persist forever.” Rose lowered her brows and smiled wryly. “Up until now, I never cared what was said about me, but I need to change that moving forward. As I am the Duchess of Prelier, popular sentiment about me reflects how the domain will be evaluated.”

“Rose...”

“It would be awful if our household fell apart before our child could grow up.” Rose gently caressed her stomach. She’d added a lighthearted joke to defuse the tension.

My wife was trying to stand her ground and face the things she hated. It filled me with pride and affection. Though I still wished to protect her from all that was irksome and hide her away, I wasn’t foolish enough to hold her back.

“Will you stay close by my side all the while?” I asked.

“Leon, does that mean...?”

Harboring conflicting feelings of loneliness and happiness, I added a pathetic condition: “I’ll agree as long as you promise you will.”

A beautiful smile bloomed across Rose’s face.

The Reincarnated Duchess Makes Preparations

I had received permission to attend a soiree. Sir Leonhart was extremely overprotective, so I’d thought it would take longer to convince him, but he’d agreed surprisingly easily. But he hadn’t agreed out of carefree optimism or because his concern for me had waned. As always, he cherished me dearly.

If he didn’t, then when I woke up in the dead of night to vomit, he wouldn’t rub my back, and he wouldn’t have struggled for multiple days to bake me cookies. I knew he had consented for my sake.

Sir Leonhart is prioritizing my wishes over his peace of mind. I mustn’t forget that. I’m anxious that I’m not making the best of this limited opportunity, but this won’t be the only event. Don’t overexert yourself, Rose; you should approach with the mindset that simply attending will be of significant value.

Preparations for the soiree came first. My figure had changed during pregnancy, and I would need to have a dress tailored. Though my belly was still rather inconspicuous, all the dresses I owned for parties required a corset, so they were now unwearable.

Considering the changes that would occur below my chest, I contemplated having an empire-style dress made—that style wouldn’t put any pressure on my stomach. Since I didn’t have much time, I had initially thought I would need to order a ready-made dress and adjust the size from there. However, the dressmaker had told me they would make my order a top priority, so they would have time to create a bespoke dress.

The dressmaker my parents—or more accurately, my mother—had reserved for me as a congratulatory gift for my pregnancy was the most popular dressmaker in the capital. Normally, one would need to wait an entire year for their order to be completed.

The royal family isn’t just about being connected, though—I have a feeling my mother also paid a hefty sum. I’m usually ashamed to receive special treatment, but I’m thankful for it this time.

Promptly after I reached out to the dressmaker, they made an appointment to come to our home in two days to take measurements and discuss the design. Everything was falling into place seamlessly, and I was once again filled with gratitude for my mother, but...

It was the day of the dressmaker’s visit.

The tailors sent by the dressmaker shop were setting up in a different room. Their presence was fine and expected—I was, however, questioning why the other three people were making themselves at home in the parlor.

“Mother, why are you here? And with Chris and Johan too,” I asked, flummoxed.

Mother turned toward me. She put down the teacup she held with bewitchingly graceful movements and tilted her head to the side. Though she was a gorgeous beauty, the childish gesture was oddly befitting. She wore a simple, deep-blue day dress with black lace and matching accessories—on any other person, the look would’ve given off a rather plain impression, but weirdly enough, when my mother wore it, she exuded an elegant allure. Her stunning good looks had not changed one bit, and you would never have guessed that she had multiple children who were already adults.

“My, I notified you in advance, didn’t I?”

“Yes, I did indeed receive a letter two hours ago.” What am I supposed to do with two hours of notice? “If you had let me know earlier, I would’ve been able to make more preparations for your arrival.”

“I simply came to see my daughter’s face. Preparations are uncalled for.” She turned away with a huff.

I smiled dryly. She probably only gave me short notice because she didn’t want me to fuss about her visit. It was her roundabout way of being thoughtful. She’s as adorable and abstruse as always.

The three were here incognito. Their carriage didn’t bear the royal crest, and their knights were not in uniform. They had each even been thorough enough to dye their hair brown. However, their out-of-this-world beauty would still command attention no matter where they went.

“I apologize for the trouble,” Chris said, his shapely brows drooping sadly.

It felt wrong to see him with chestnut brown hair and his bangs left down instead of parted in the middle. Perhaps it was because it made him appear even younger than normal, but the distressed look on his face made me feel guilty. For some reason, I felt like I was the one who’d done something wrong.

Oh, what am I to do? I smiled at him. “It’s fine. I’m glad you came to visit me.”

“Rose.” Chris’s face lit up. The rigid expression on his face vanished like melting snow.

“Sister, come here.” Johan, who was sitting on a two-seater sofa, beckoned me over. He patted the empty space next to him.

His wavy blond hair was the same chestnut brown as Chris’s, and it was pulled back. The new look made him seem more mature than usual, but his innocent smile was still the same as ever. I took his hand and sat beside him.

“Where’s Leonhart?” Chris asked.

“He went to the medical facility on business. I believe he’ll come to greet you once he returns.”

“Ah, no need. We barged in on you out of the blue. He should prioritize his work.”

It’s not like Sir Leonhart could respond in time either since their letter was only delivered two hours ago. He should be home soon, but I’ll presume upon Chris’s kindness this time.

“By the way, Rose, how are you feeling? Do you have an appetite?” my mother asked suddenly.

My brothers’ eyes fell on me as well.

“My morning sickness has settled down a little, and my health has more or less stabilized. I was able to eat a normal breakfast this morning.”

“But haven’t you lost weight? You’ve always been on the thin side, but now you look like you’d snap in two if someone touched you with the slightest bit of force.” Chris’s expression darkened. He’d said a line straight out of a shojo manga with a straight face, but the mood was not conducive to any teasing.

“You look pallid as well,” Johan added. “I really think it’d be best if you let the court physician examine you. And we could all rest assured if you lived in the detached palace.”

“You worry too much,” I replied.

Despite my attempts to assuage him, my younger brother refused to relent. “But I can always come running if you live there, and—”

“I also have doctors at home,” I said firmly, cutting him off before he could continue hounding me. “Leon and the servants will be with me, so you can rest easy.” I could be polite and let his statements roll off of me with a smile, but I don’t know how serious Johan is. There’s the real fear that if I just nod along, the next thing I know I’ll be tossed into the detached palace.

I left Johan with his disgruntled mutterings and addressed my mother. “Incidentally, mother, did the dressmaker contact you?”

“Yes. I told them to inform me when you got in touch with them.”

No wonder her visit perfectly aligned with the tailor’s even though I didn’t tell her about it. I guess she wanted to help her daughter pick a dress. How can I not grant such a humble wish? And above all, mother has an excellent eye for beauty and an unparalleled fashion sense. I can trust her opinion, so I am much obliged to her for her assistance.

“I’m thinking of selecting a dress that cinches below my chest so that it doesn’t put pressure on my stomach. Could you help me pick a design and the fabric?” I asked.

“You’re in good hands.” Mother puffed up with pride, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “We should also choose one that will accentuate your beauty. Though, you could honestly pull off any dress.”

That’s definitely your parental bias speaking. I laughed awkwardly instead of denying it.

“Very true,” Chris agreed with a solemn expression. “You’ve always been a lovely child, but now you’re more beautiful than anyone. You will look radiant in anything.” He nodded, satisfied with his analysis. He looked more like a doting father than an older brother.

While Chris was a young man who possessed the beauty of a supple sapling, he also had a level of dignity that was beyond his years, so oddly enough, the fatherly line suited him. He had been watching over me since I was young, and his heartwarming words carried a great weight.

Just then, a certain person’s face flashed through my mind. It was rare for my family to congregate in one place, and one person was missing: my father.

“That reminds me, where is father?” I asked off the cuff.

The three of them flinched and averted their eyes in unison. My eyes widened in confusion. I didn’t mean anything deep by that. Father is a busy man, and I have no doubt that he’s hard at work in his office. The answer is guaranteed to be “he’s working,” and I just asked to keep the conversation going. Then again, even if he had time to spare, surely it would never strike him to go out of his way to visit me at my residence.

So why are they avoiding my gaze? They look awkward, almost like they feel guilty about something...

“Don’t tell me you purposefully left him behind...”

They flinched again.

“As if. That would never happen!” I shot down my own guess with a smile, but when my eyes met Chris’s, he awkwardly turned away.

“Of course not.”

“We’d never.”

Johan and mother were smiling, but something smelled fishy. My upright older brother was the only one who looked ashamed, which made them look all the more suspicious. Still, I couldn’t imagine my arrogant father being abandoned, of all things. I doubted he even wanted to visit my home, so I stopped thinking too deeply about it.

I hadn’t seen my mother and brothers in a long time, so we had a lot to catch up on. In the middle of our chat, someone knocked on the door. The tailors had finished their preparations.

“Let’s move to their room.”

“Yes. Chris, Johan...”

“We’ll wait here. Johan and I will while away the hours together, so don’t mind us—take your time picking out a dress.”

At my mother’s urging, I stood up. I intended to try on the samples, and even though they were family, I was still uncomfortable about men being present. I’d been fretting about what to do since I didn’t want to neglect my brothers when they’d come all this way to see me, but Chris had beat me to the punch.

My older brother is such a capable man. There are so many men who avoid accompanying a woman shopping, but look at him! He’s so considerate at such a young age.

Johan made an I didn’t agree to that! face, which I turned a blind eye to. It’s good to spend some quality alone time as brothers every now and then to deepen your bond.

“Then we’ll leave you both to it,” I said.

I had the maids make a fresh pot of tea and bring out light sweets they could snack on. Then, I headed with my mother to the room where the tailors awaited. Sir Leonhart should be home soon; he can keep them entertained when he’s back.

As soon as I arrived in the other room, I tried on an empire dress. In Japan, bustier-style empire dresses were trendy, but I had a feeling that would be too risqué for this world. Though exposing a bit of décolletage was standard for soirees, a bustier cut would be going too far.

The dress the tailors had prepared for me had puffy sleeves and a square neckline that showed generous décolletage. The overskirt was white and a shade of beige that looked like gold in the right lighting. It was the basic style that I’d seen in paintings of women with children.

“What do you think?” I asked.

Mother inspected me closely. Her gaze ran from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and then she knit her brows. “Dowdy.”

Talk about giving it to me straight. I don’t think it looks very flattering on me either, though. In the first place, empire dresses are hard to pull off. On top of that, this dress isn’t the right size for me, which makes it worse.

“I had a feeling it didn’t suit me.”

“How do I put it... It looks like you’re wearing your mother’s dress that’s been altered to fit you—as best as it could be, anyway.”

“The analogy was unnecessary, thank you very much.” It’s so accurate that it’s depressing, so please stop.

“No, no, you’re still adorable. However, it’s smothering all of your good qualities. How strange! This is a common design and color, so I wonder why...” Mother frowned, placed her hand on her cheek, tilted her head, and muttered, “You could do without the puffy sleeves. Should we try formfitting or flared...?”

The designer standing next to her leafed through some papers and showed mother a sketch. “What do you think of this?” she asked.

“Yes, sleeves that show off the shape of her arms would be best. However, the décolletage in this design is unacceptable. Since her waistline will be hidden, we must show off her neck and arms. Also, off-white shades tend to appear faded.”

“The duchess has fair skin and light-colored hair, so perhaps darker colors would suit her.”

Mother and the designer were getting quite worked up as they discussed styles. We were supposed to be making a dress for me to wear, but I couldn’t keep up with the conversation and was relegated to idly standing there. They pressed fabrics against my body and changed my pose—whatever they wanted from me, I acquiesced. Do with me what you will. I felt like a fish on a chopping block. When they told me they wanted to see me in a different dress, I changed without resisting.

This time, I tried on a dark-red dress with black lace. It gave off the complete opposite impression from the previous one—dark and seductive. I’m a former villainess, so is it really okay for me to wear this? Won’t it look like I drink blood out of a wineglass?

Apprehensive, I turned to face them. My mother and the designer stared at me with wide eyes. Their penetrating gazes made me uncomfortable.

“It suits you extremely well,” said the designer.

“I agree. Your face resembles mine, so I expected you to look more stern.”

I wasn’t prepared for all the compliments, and now it was my turn to stare with wide eyes. “Do I not appear stern?”

“Not at all. You look like a composed, mature lady. An impressive feat, given the fact that the wrong combination of red and black tends to look garish and vitriolic.” Mother smiled wryly. “Perhaps it’s a difference in character.”

She seemed conflicted, which perplexed me. “Mother?”

Instead of replying to me, she addressed the designer. “I would like to see a black fabric paired with a different color. Do you have beige lace?”

At her behest, the designer stepped away for a moment.

Once no one was nearby, my mother furtively whispered, “I can’t wear red and black. I look like a witch when I do.”

Now that she mentions it, I can’t recall a time my mother wore a red-and-black dress. I was under the impression that she preferred muted colors like dark green and blue. I never thought it would be for a reason like that. She has glamorous features and boasts outstanding proportions, so I think red and black would look extremely good on her. Such a shame.

“It would look good on you, though,” I murmured.

Mother drew her brows together in a troubled expression. “I heard His Majesty has a distaste for gaudy women, so I developed a habit of avoiding those colors.”

I froze—I’d landed on a heavy topic that shouldn’t be spoken about lightly.

However, she quickly laughed it off. “Well, that doesn’t matter anymore.” It didn’t sound like she was forcing herself to say that. She truly sounded like she meant every word.

“It doesn’t?” I asked.

“Yes. In the past, I desperately wanted him to look my way, but that zeal has petered out. If I’m honest, the current distance between us is just right.”

Even from my point of view, the relationship between my parents wasn’t bad. They felt more like business partners rather than a married couple, and though they weren’t passionately in love, they shared a strong bond.

“Thinking back, I wasn’t in love with His Majesty either. I simply wanted a family,” she said flatly, her eyes slightly downcast.

Seeing her like that made my heart sink. Even though she didn’t seem especially lonely or sad, I found myself rushing to her side. I reached out to her and squeezed her hand. She looked up with a start. The confused, defenseless expression on her face made her appear younger than usual.

“I’m here. Mother, I’m your family.”

Surprise colored her face.

“Chris, Johan, and even Leon are your family too. Also, father is often incomprehensible, but he’s probably also family.”

Adding “probably” there was unnecessary, but it put a broad smile on my mother’s face. “You’re right.” Her tone and expression were both tender and full of mirth.

“And of course, that goes for this child too,” I said, rubbing my stomach.

Mother also touched my belly. She caressed it gently, and the corners of her eyes softened. “It’s your granny. I’m waiting for you, so please come into the world a healthy baby.”

I didn’t think “granny” was an appellation that suited her very well, but her tender, smiling face was definitely one of a grandmother who loved her grandchild. Isn’t that nice? Your grandmother is going to dote on you, I mentally whispered to my child. I have a feeling that she’s going to try to spoil you rotten though, so I’d better keep an eye out for that.

“A growing family is a wonderful thing,” my mother said.

“And it’ll continue to grow from now on,” I replied.

“Yes, that’s right. I can’t wait for your second child.”

“It won’t be just me. Chris and Johan will marry before long.” I would like to have at least two children though. But surely Chris and Johan will marry first.

It had been an innocent remark, but my mother furrowed her brow deeply. “Those boys? I wonder if they will ever marry.”

“I hear they are extremely popular among unmarried women.” I may be their sister, but even I think my brothers are a pair of high-spec handsome young men. “The two of them don’t seem very enthusiastic about the notion, though.”

I have a vague feeling that they’re trying to run from marriage, but given their positions, it’ll be difficult for them to remain bachelors forever. Johan aside, it’ll be impossible for Chris since he’s the crown prince. I can kind of sympathize with them, though. If Sir Leonhart didn’t exist, I would never have considered marriage.

While I was lost in absent-minded thought, I felt a stare. Mother’s eyes were fixed on me as she muttered, “Their standards are too high.”

“Standards?”

“There can’t be many women like you.”

Like me? What do you mean? Like a reckless wild boar? Well, we would be in trouble if there were many noble ladies like that. I’d like to believe she didn’t mean it in that way.

“Tell him it’s time he stops clinging to his younger sister.”

I’m a brocon myself, so I rarely defy Chris. If I suddenly told him that out of nowhere, he might end up bedridden. Not knowing how to reply, I deflected with a vague laugh.

The First Prince’s Getaway

The sound of warbling birds reached my ears. I turned toward the direction of the noise and peered out the window. Through the glass, I spotted a little bird with bright-blue wings perched on a thin branch. It looked down at me with its round, cute eyes and chirped again. Its pleasant, gentle cry resembled the sound of a flute, and I found the way it waddled and darted about adorable as well. I couldn’t help but smile.

I lifted my teacup to hide my slovenly grin. The gold liquid inside contrasted nicely against the pure-white ceramic cup. I took a sip, and a vivacious flavor spread across my palate, and the subtle fragrance of flowers wafted through my nose. The tea must have been brewed from high-quality first-flush leaves. The brew was impeccable and was by no means inferior to the tea served in the castle. Furthermore, the sofa—carefully selected by our parents for their beloved daughter—was very comfortable to sit on.

A snug environment and delicious black tea. A leisurely moment free from work. To think that I’m peacefully enjoying teatime while watching a little bird. What a luxury.

A blissful sigh escaped my lips. In contrast, my younger brother sitting across from me—Johan—wore a bored expression.

“It’s not fair only mother gets to go,” he grumbled quietly.

“Is it not?” I replied.

“No, it’s not!” Johan responded with a wave of discontent. “I wanted to help pick our sister’s dress too! Chris, don’t you feel the same?”

His frenzy overwhelmed me. To be honest, I’m not so ardent about it. I’m ignorant about women’s fashion, and I’m not confident in my sense of style, so I wouldn’t be much use there. I’d like to see Rose dressed up, but my vocabulary is lacking, and my opinion would provide little guidance. However, I was the only one who viewed it that way; Johan was different. So, I gave a different reason.

“We may be relatives, but it would still be improper for men to be present.”

“I’m not saying I want to be present while she’s changing. But can’t I at least be there when they’re choosing a design?”

“Would you step out every time she changed? You would only slow them down,” I said dismissively.

Johan frowned and clammed up. He knew it was unreasonable for him to join them, but he likely wanted me to share his displeasure.

“I know more about sister than mother does, though,” Johan eventually muttered, sulking like a petulant child.

He always wore a flawless smile, even against the most cunning nobles, so this was an unusual occurrence. However, knowing he was relaxed around me warmed my heart and made me emotional again.

As a child, he used to despise me. I recalled how Johan used to hide behind Rose’s tiny little back and shoot menacing glares my way. Our current relationship is a miracle. And that goes for my relationship with my stepmother too. Not only did we avoid speaking to each other outside of formal events, but we never even made eye contact. If I told my past self that she and I would one day be able to go out together, he would never believe me.

I feel like my father has also changed a little. It’s like he’s easier to talk to than before... No, it’s probably just my imagination... Which reminds me, I wonder if he’s upset. My father’s face suddenly floated into mind, and I recalled something I’d purposefully tried to forget.

Rose was with child, and before she returned to her domain, I’d wanted to see her at least once and have a leisurely conversation without having to rush. However, taking time off wasn’t easy with the mountain of work on my desk. I’d somehow managed to complete enough tasks to visit her for a day, but that had happened to overlap with my stepmother and Johan’s plans.

We couldn’t leave the castle bereft of its entire royal family. The three of us understood this fact, and we’d exchanged glances. However, none of us had been able to bring ourselves to say that we’d stay behind. As the older sibling, I should’ve conceded to my cute younger brother. However, I missed Rose too. I’d wanted to see her in person and congratulate her—not with the stiff greetings I’d use in a formal setting but in my own unadulterated words.

Johan hadn’t been able to bring himself to demand that I yield. Ultimately, my stepmother had been the one who’d ripped apart the uncomfortable blanket of silence. Without a second thought, she’d readily said, “Then we’ve no choice but to all go together.”

Her statement had implied we would leave behind the one person who wasn’t present. Johan and I had looked at each other and nodded at the same time, making us her accomplices.

“I fear what he’ll say when I return,” I mumbled to myself.

Johan grimaced. “Please don’t remind me of unpleasant things.” It seemed he had also visualized father’s face. “He’ll surely nag us. ‘If you have enough spare time to gallivant about, then work,’” he said, mimicking father’s voice.

You’ve perfectly captured father’s idiosyncrasies. Please stop. Hearing that just once from the man himself is enough suffering for me.

“I thought this when I was reviewing our treaty with Lapter, but he hurls too much important work at us. He’s going to live past a hundred anyway, so he should just do it himself instead of foisting it onto young men with much to live for,” Johan spat out venomously.

“It’s...proof he has high expectations for you,” I said weakly.

He glared at me. “You shouldn’t pacify others with statements you don’t even believe.”

“Sorry.” I raised my hands in surrender. “That doesn’t mean it’s entirely untrue. Honestly, I don’t know what goes through his head.”

“I feel the same. I could try my whole life, and I don’t think I’ll ever understand him. When I think he values customs and traditions, he suddenly does the unexpected. I wouldn’t be surprised if he abruptly came here right—”

Just then, someone knocked on the door. We both held our breath and stared at each other. After a moment, we slowly shifted our gazes to the door.

“Yes?” Johan fearfully asked.

“It’s Leonhart.”

We immediately relaxed and permitted him to enter. Our sister’s husband, Leonhart, stepped through the door. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t in the royal knight’s uniform I was so used to seeing him in, but he appeared somewhat different. Dressed in a black frock coat on top of a charcoal-gray waistcoat, he looked like a refined nobleman—even more so with his bangs pushed back.

He was getting on in years, but his charming good looks had not faded. In fact, they were only becoming more striking. And though this sentiment was belated, I was impressed by my sister’s eye for men.

“It’s been a while. Have you been well?” I asked.

“Yes, I have. Your Highness, you look the same as ever,” Leonhart replied. His eyebrows lowered in confusion at Johan, who was lifelessly leaning against the backrest of the sofa.

“I never thought the day would come when I would feel relieved to see you,” my younger brother muttered.

“Pardon me, Prince Johan, I’m not sure I follow...”

“Oh, never mind.” It felt silly to explain that we had panicked because our ludicrous fantasy had seemed to have come true for a split second, so I brushed it off. “More importantly, I apologize for the sudden visit.”

“Please, no need to worry. My wife is overjoyed to have everyone’s company.”

The word “wife” peeved Johan. She’s with child now, and you’re still reacting like that? Exasperated as I was, I also felt a bit lonely without Rose, so I wasn’t one to talk.

“Besides, I would offer little assistance choosing a dress, so I’m grateful Her Majesty is here to lend some guidance. I’m sure she would know what suits Rose best.” Leonhart let out an abashed laugh.

He’s the same as me, I thought. I’d felt a certain camaraderie with him, even when he had been the captain of the royal guard. This still held true now that he was married.

“I’m the one who knows what suits my sister best,” Johan grumbled.

I disregarded his complaints and motioned for Leonhart to take a seat. He was about to sit down in an armchair, but he stopped. It seemed he’d suddenly remembered something.

“Before I forget, I just received this.” Leonhart placed a letter his butler had handed him in front of me.

“It’s for me?” I questioned.

“It’s addressed to both of you.”

Both of us, meaning me and Johan. We left several hours ago, so I’d expect it to be urgent if it’s been sent here, but it doesn’t look like it is. I cocked my head to the side, puzzled. Johan moved to sit beside me, his face full of suspicion.

I opened the envelope with the letter knife on the tray and pulled out a piece of paper that was folded in half. I unfolded it. A short message was written on it in familiar handwriting.

When I read it, I was stunned speechless.

“You owe me one. Remember that.”

It wasn’t my imagination! Father really has changed. At the very least, he didn’t use to be a person who would do such a childish thing. If anyone asked me if this change is a welcome one, I would shake my head with all my might.

I pictured the mountain of documents already stacked high on top of my desk as I handed the slip of paper to Johan.

The Marchioness’s Surprise

Though it was nighttime, in this place, it was as bright as midday. Thick pillars carved with ivy and flowers lined the walls evenly, holding up U-shaped arches. The high ceiling was decorated with a large fresco. Hanging from it was an enormous chandelier that shone brightly in place of the sun.

The castle’s great hall was a dazzlingly gorgeous symbol of the Kingdom of Nevel’s prosperity. The people gathered there were dressed to the nines. Noble ladies wore dresses in all hues, turning the hall into a field of flowers.

If the women are flowers, then that would make the men butterflies or bees drawn to their nectar.

“Gabriella?” My husband—my escort for the night—called my name from where he stood next to me. He was worried, since I was in an absent-minded daze.

“Yes, sorry. I was overwhelmed for a moment,” I apologized quietly and then pasted on my best smile. When you relax your guard and conduct yourself disgracefully, you never know when someone might tear you down.

Less than two years had passed since our house—the Orsein family—had been promoted from the rank of count to marquis because of the achievements of Leonhart, our eldest son. There were many high-ranking nobles who looked down on us and harbored contempt for our family, though they hid it on the surface. I was fed up with people hurling nasty remarks at us in roundabout ways, but I wasn’t particularly wounded by them. I simply never engaged.

The Orsein family’s history ran deep, and we were famous for producing many outstanding knights. Others lacked the standing to belittle us. I had no intention of stooping to the same level as those who could only measure a person’s value by their peerage, so I smiled and shrugged off their remarks.

As I continued down that line of thought, a sigh inadvertently spilled from my lips. My husband and I were fine. We were accustomed to handling the fiends that lurked within high society, and we had the audacity and resilience to never yield. I wasn’t concerned about my sons either, as they’d grown up to become splendid young men.

However, I just couldn’t sit still when I imagined that such malice might be directed toward my lovely, dainty daughter-in-law. Though Leonhart’s wife had been born in the lofty position of princess, she possessed an immensely pure and kind heart. I knew she had a strong will, but she didn’t seem accustomed to being the target of spite.

“I’m worried.”

“As am I.”

I didn’t specify whom I was worried about, but my husband understood. Lady Rosemary normally expended her efforts managing her domain and was hardly ever present in the capital, but tonight, she would be making a rare appearance at the soiree hosted by the royal family. We had paid the duchess a visit a few days ago and had been surprised to hear it. In fact, we’d been so surprised that my husband and I had almost resorted to shedding tears and begging her not to push herself too hard.

High society is like a poisonous swamp—its air doesn’t fit a straightforward girl like her. I fret enough about her under normal circumstances, but now she’s also pregnant. The thought of something happening to my daughter-in-law and grandchild put me on tenterhooks.

I’d wanted to do everything in my power to stop her, but Leonhart had admonished me. “I appreciate that you want to protect her, but please don’t try to fetter her in chains,” he had said. My son was right. To me, Lady Rosemary was my precious daughter-in-law, but she was a duchess and the head of her household. Sheltering and protecting her wouldn’t help.

My husband and I had made the heartbreaking decision to just watch over her. But that didn’t mean our anxiety had disappeared. Nevel was a kingdom with strong patriarchal beliefs, and Lady Rosemary was the first duchess regnant in history, so she would be judged harshly. On top of that, there were many people who were displeased that she’d taken Leonhart as her husband.

It was a tad embarrassing to shower my own son with praise, but Leonhart was an exceptional individual. He was the strongest swordsman in Nevel and the former captain of the royal guard. His name was famous in neighboring nations as well. There were many who raised their brows in disapproval that he wasn’t the head of his own house but merely a groom.

It’s ridiculous. Only those directly involved have the right to intervene. Besides, those same people would be displeased if a princess married into the Orsein family. I could easily imagine them loudly yelling, “A former count is unworthy!”

In a nutshell, they’re jealous. They’re merely envious of a beautiful, talented, young married couple. There’s no need to pay attention to the drivel of fools who are trying to knock the moon out of the sky by throwing pebbles at it. I don’t want to be influenced by what such insignificant people say. But how long can the couple defend themselves?

Even now, in this hall, the Duchess and Duke of Prelier were all anyone was talking about. People were especially curious about Lady Rosemary. This was, in part, because Prelier’s medical facility and growing economy attracted attention, but they were also interested in her as a person.

In her time as a princess, she had accumulated one impressive achievement after another, but she’d rarely ever appeared in public. Outside of formal occasions where attendance of the royal family was mandatory, hardly anyone had seen her at a social event. As a consequence, there were numerous speculations and rumors about her.

People suspected that her amiable relationship with the king and queen was merely a facade and that they were actually on bad terms. They thought that she was actually at odds with her brother, the crown prince. That the portrait of her circulating the nation was fake, and that she actually bore no resemblance to her family. All sorts of impudent things were being said about her. Some even questioned the authenticity of her achievements.

Since the subject of all these rumors was of royal blood, there weren’t many who publicly kicked up a fuss, but there were more than a few people who quietly relished the vulgar gossip.

Then again, there were many who’d fallen silent when they’d beheld the sight of the lovely, goddess-like bride during the wedding held at the cathedral. Also, when news of her pregnancy had been made public, the king and queen had sent her a mountain of presents to congratulate her, which had dampened rumors of a secret feud. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean the rumors had gone away entirely. As lamentable as it was, there were always people waiting for their chance to tear others down.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Dear...”

I must’ve looked dejected, because my husband gave me an encouraging smile. “Let’s believe in our children.”

“Yes, you’re right,” I said. A slight smile played on my lips. Those two have surmounted numerous hardships, so they’ll surely be all right.

My husband and I looked at each other and nodded. Then, the announcement that the Duchess and Duke of Prelier were making their entrance rang throughout the hall. All the attention in the venue gravitated toward one spot. Everyone watched as the two large doors swung open with a loud thud.

Someone gasped. I didn’t know if it was me or someone near me. I simply stood there in a trance, unable to form a coherent thought.

The first person my eyes were drawn to was Lady Rosemary. Perhaps it was because she was wearing her platinum-blonde hair up when she normally left it down, but the air she exuded seemed different from usual. Flowers adorned her loosely braided hair, giving her an elegant and feminine allure.

Her dress was cinched under her chest in an empire style. Though the fabric fell loosely around her hips, she didn’t look fat—frankly, she looked so thin that I worried she might snap. The base color of her dress was dark blue, and black lace covered her décolletage and shoulders. It resembled her wedding dress somewhat, but she seemed even more sensual than before.

It isn’t a particularly revealing design, and the needle lace is in an intricate floral pattern, so barely any of her skin shows through. So why is it giving off that impression? Is it the color palette?

Her earrings were unusually large, but they weren’t tawdry by any means. If anything, they contrasted nicely against her fair skin and drew the eyes. Rainbow-colored butterflies danced on a black background—it was craftsmanship from another nation. Lady Rosemary had called the technique “raden.”

I had heard that Lady Rosemary had employed skilled artisans from the Kingdom of Osten. Her earrings were exotic items that had never been seen before in our nation, and they commanded much attention.

Of course, their beauty didn’t hold a candle against their wearer’s radiance. Lady Rosemary’s graceful features were plenty gorgeous, even with only a light layer of makeup. When the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly into the faintest of smiles, she was so breathtaking that one could almost smell her beauty.

A single glance from her would have been enough to bring swarms of men to their knees, but she didn’t spare them a single one. She was looking up at Leonhart beside her—their eyes were locked.

Leonhart wore a black justaucorps and a deep-blue gilet. His white lace cravat had a pattern matching Lady Rosemary’s dress. Pinned on his breast was a raden brooch. It was modest but embellished with a beautiful butterfly design. From the top of his head to the very tip of his toes, he was meant to be paired with Lady Rosemary’s outfit.

They’re like a pair of wings.

The gorgeous couple appeared in twilight like phantom butterflies, and without saying a single word, they stole the attention of the entire hall.

The Reincarnated Duchess Socializes

Yep, I’m gonna throw up, I muttered internally as I was subjected to inquisitive stares.

I had finally made up my mind that enough was enough and that I needed to pull it together as the Duchess of Prelier, so here I was, at an evening soiree hosted by the royal family. The moment I stepped through the doors with Sir Leonhart escorting me, I was pierced by intense gazes from every direction.

I may be conceited for thinking this, but I feel like every single person in the hall is looking at us. I kept the archaic smile that my mother had taught me plastered on my face, and although I was somehow keeping it fixed, I hated standing out. Being in this situation was pure torture.

As a princess, I had attended a relatively large number of functions where I’d had to stand in front of people, but those experiences were completely useless now. Are the gazes of the general public and the gazes of nobility that different? There are inquisitive stares mixed in among our citizens, but I never really feel any ill will. It just feels like they’re looking at something novel... Maybe it’s similar to the way people go to a zoo to see pandas.

On the other hand, nobles stare at you like they’re appraising an item. They observe carefully without missing a single hair on your head and will find fault over the tiniest stray strand. I’m scared that if I make a single mistake, it’ll instantly be game over.

I was surging with the desire to forget about my brave front and turn tail and run home. But then, a quiet voice called my name. “Rose.”

Startled, I turned to my side and locked eyes with Sir Leonhart. His warm gaze melted the stiffness that had taken hold of my body, and I was finally able to take a deep breath.

That’s right. I’m not here alone. I have a reliable partner right next to me who won’t even budge if I lean my entire weight on him. Even if I fail, I’m sure Sir Leonhart will say, “There’s always next time,” with a lighthearted smile.

Reminded of this fact, I was able to relax and smile naturally. He seemed relieved that I’d gotten the message, and a gentle smile spread across his face. When he did, I heard admiring sighs from all around us.

Regardless of age or gender, you’ll be charmed by Sir Leonhart’s smile. I have the best husband in the world!

“Leon, you’re so dashing that everyone is captivated by you,” I whispered to him. I wore a nonchalant look as we proceeded into the venue.

He blinked and then smiled wryly. “Do you think these stares are only being directed at me?” His smile was sweetly contrary to his tone, which sounded like he was exasperated from dealing with a hopeless case.

“Huh? But...”

“Eighty percent of the hall... No, ninety percent is enchanted by you. I’m merely a garnish.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You could never be a mere garnish.”

His face and physique remain unchanged, even though he’s past thirty. Actually, if anything, he’s becoming sexier by the year. How could he be just a garnish? The main dish would be upstaged if he played the role of parsley!

“You’re as thickheaded as ever, or perhaps better put, out of touch,” he said.

A lot of people have told me that, so it’s probably true that I’m thickheaded. But I think Sir Leonhart is fairly thickheaded too. I mean, every time we take a step forward, I see another lady swooning over him. Innocent young noblewomen who have recently made their debuts, beautiful wives—everyone is ogling Sir Leonhart, spellbound. I can’t believe he feels like he’s a piece of garnish.

I wanted to tell him that he was just as out of touch as I was, but I refrained. I’m proud that my beloved husband is such a popular man, but I’m petty, so I’m a little... No, I’m very jealous. This’ll be my little secret.

Sir Leonhart gave me a puzzled look. “Rose?”

I smiled at him to show that nothing was wrong. Shortly after we entered the great hall, the royal family began to make their own entrances. Johan would come first, then Chris, and my father and mother last.

Johan sported a perfect smile, completely unperturbed by the euphoric squeals of young women. He wore dark colors—a grape-colored justaucorps, a gilet of the same shade, and a black cravat—but that only underscored his gorgeous face.

Chris, on the other hand, was not greeted by the same excited shrieks—perhaps because the women who admired him tended to be more mature. And yet, their gazes burned with all the more passion. However, Chris was expressionless, either not noticing their fiery stares or unbothered by them. The combination of his blue justaucorps and gilet and white cravat suited his intelligent, handsome features very well.

And, near my brothers’ wrists, the raden cuff links I’d gifted them glistened. At this point in time, there weren’t many who’d noticed the existence of their unique accessories. Only a small portion of the few fashion-minded people had. Nevertheless, practically everyone here would notice when they saw the accessories the royal couple wore. After all, they would be wearing theirs in the most conspicuous places—my father had a brooch pinned to his cravat, and my mother wore a necklace.

I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself! There’s no better advertisement than them, I mentally praised myself. At first, I’d fretted that my parents were too beautiful and that they’d outshine the accessories. However, light colors and the black base of raden accessories surprisingly went well together, so the accessories complemented their beauty like shadows.

The couple wore matching green outfits that harmonized well, with some slight differences in their styles and shades. In particular, my mother’s bright, emerald-green dress with black lace matched the colors of her raden necklace very well. I wondered whether she’d purposefully had it tailored to match.

The sight of these four exceptionally attractive men and women lined up together was truly breathtaking. And it stood out that they each wore accessories of the same craftsmanship.

One of my goals is to advertise exclusive products that Prelier will have in the future, and I’d say we’re off to a great start.

My estimation wasn’t wrong—when guests were free to enjoy the soiree as they pleased, we were instantly surrounded by a crowd, as though they’d been lying in wait. At first, they spoke to us under the pretext of paying respects or congratulating us on our future child, but their eyes were glued to our accessories. Noble ladies, the trendsetters in high society, were especially curious.

“Duchess, your earrings are absolutely splendid. They’re colorful yet elegant, and very eye-catching. I’ve never seen such craftsmanship in our nation. Could they be from another country, perchance?”

“Yes. They were crafted by artisans from the Kingdom of Osten, an island nation that lies east of the continent.”

“An island to the east? Acquiring goods from such a faraway land must have been no easy feat.” The fashion-conscious Marchioness Ruben’s eyebrows drooped in disappointment. She’d anticipated that the accessories were items imported from another country, but she hadn’t expected that they’d be from outside the continent.

When you learn it’s something you can’t attain, it’s human nature to desire it even more. I feel like she’s staring at my earrings with added fervor. I’ve got her now.

I smiled evilly on the inside and continued the conversation. “Normally, that would be the case, but we actually have artisans from Osten in our domain. These earrings were crafted by them.” I smiled as I touched my earring.

The marchioness’s eyes lit up. “My! In Prelier?”

In the beginning, when she’d come to greet us with her husband, she had been an elegant and impeccable lady, but she now appeared restless and a little fidgety. I could tell she wanted to ask more about the artisans, and she was frustrated that she couldn’t blatantly gather information.

High society was a battlefield where nobles vied for beauty, so many wished to hide information on their favorite tailors and artisans. Although it wasn’t a breach in etiquette to ask what shop an item was from, there was an unspoken agreement not to question excessively. However, I had no desire to stand out more than others in high society, so this rule meant nothing to me.

I’ll divulge as much information as you want, so please spend all the money you like. “They plan to open a shop in Prelier soon, so if you’re interested, please come visit,” I said in a hushed voice, hiding my mouth with my fan.

The marchioness beamed at me like an excited little girl and nodded. I glanced at Sir Leonhart—who was keeping the marquis company—and he shot me a tiny smile. His gaze seemed to be praising me with a Good job, and I felt like I was on cloud nine.

I let out a small sigh. Although my tension had eased for the most part, it’d been replaced with minor fatigue. During conversations, high-ranking nobles would not hesitate to tear you down over the most trifling matters, so I couldn’t relax. Exchanges during which every reply had to be carefully considered were honestly draining.

Unfortunately, the soiree was far from over—we were at the liveliest point of the night. I wanted to find the proper time to leave, but it was still much too early.

“Rose.”

Hearing my name, I looked up. Sir Leonhart handed me a glass. The liquid in the slender flute glass was clear and had a subtle citrus fragrance. It was likely lemon water. The servers walking around the hall only carried trays of wine and other spirits, so he’d probably ordered it specifically for me.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You must be exhausted. Lean against me.” Sir Leonhart supported my weight. His arm wrapped around my waist didn’t feel unpleasant in the slightest; all I felt was his gentle thoughtfulness.

Once again, why on earth was he not one of the suitor characters? It’s rude of me to say, but he treats women far better than the other love interests, like Johan and Klaus, do. To paint a thorough picture, he’ll place a shawl around my shoulders before I even feel cold at home, and when I feel indisposed because it’s that time of month, he’s considerate in just the right amount so that it’s not irritating. And look at his face on top of all that! Of course he’s popular!

Sir Leonhart cocked his head when he noticed me staring. “Is something the matter?”

I replied with a nonanswer. “I’m merely relishing my good fortune.”

He gave me a puzzled look but didn’t press further. I was taking a break while quenching my thirst with the lemon water when someone suddenly called out to us.

“You two get along well.”

I turned in the direction of the voice and saw a man approaching us. He looked to be in his mid-fifties. He was of medium build, but the elegant silhouette of his waistcoat was marred by the slight protrusion of his belly. His brown hair was slicked back and streaked with gray. He had slightly upturned light-blue eyes. Although he had wrinkles and sagging skin appropriate for his age, he had a well-groomed face.

“It has been quite a while, Your Highness... Oh, pardon me. I should’ve addressed you as Duchess Prelier. Do you remember me?”

I slipped out of Sir Leonhart’s arms and greeted him. “Of course, Duke Schletter.”

I’d said that with a smile, but on the inside, I was anxious that I’d gotten his name wrong. Duke Schletter was my father’s cousin, which meant we were technically related, but I had little recollection of interacting with him in person. I’d only met him a handful of times at ceremonies.

“I still can’t believe that the adorable little princess is now a duchess regnant of all things. I must be getting old.”

“My shortcomings are still many, and I have much to learn.”

I didn’t think he particularly liked or disliked me, but maybe I should revise that. He’s been looking at me with an appraising gaze, and I feel like that was a roundabout way of saying, “I don’t acknowledge you as a duchess,” though maybe I’m being paranoid. I’ve heard he’s a conservative man in both good and bad ways, so he may have an issue not with me as an individual but with the fact that a woman became a duchess regnant. He probably didn’t have much interest in me when I was a princess, so his opinions formed later on.

“There you go again, always so humble. I’ve heard of your activities. Prelier’s economy is undergoing remarkable developments, and your management of the medical facility is progressing smoothly, I hear.”

I pasted on my best smile and replied, “It’s an honor that you’d speak so highly of me, Your Grace. However, I couldn’t have done it alone. It’s all thanks to the support of my brilliant husband.”

Duke Schletter’s attention shifted to Sir Leonhart. “Oh, Lord Orsein... No, is it Lord Prelier now?”

“Please, call me Leonhart.”

“Sir Leonhart, then. It’s been a few years since our last chat.”

“Yes, it’s been a long time,” Sir Leonhart replied as he took his spot beside me.

Duke Schletter returned to addressing me. “He is indeed a very brilliant man. Not only is he skilled with the sword, but he also has a very sharp mind. And don’t forget his manly good looks. He could easily support you alone.”

Sir Leonhart did not appear the slightest bit happy about Duke Schletter’s expansive praise. His lips were curved into a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was because we could feel the duke’s contempt for me in every single one of his words.

I feel like it’s been a while since I’ve seen Sir Leonhart in a bad mood.

My husband was about to open his mouth, but I furtively gripped his hand behind my skirt. When he sneaked a peek at me, I smiled at him to signal that I didn’t mind.

It really doesn’t bother me whatsoever. My beloved gets angry in my place, so I can shrug off one or two nasty remarks with a smile. Besides, this much sarcasm is akin to saying hello in high society.

“My niece begged me to introduce her to you today. It’s a tad embarrassing to praise my own relative, but she’s quite a beautiful girl. Of course, her beauty is no match for yours, Duchess Prelier.”

As he spoke, Duke Schletter scanned our surroundings. He soon beckoned someone over with the slight wave of his hand, and a young lady approached us. She was around sixteen or seventeen, and though her eyes and hair were the same shade as Duke Schletter’s, her face bore no resemblance to his. In contrast to the duke’s imposing features, she had large, droopy eyes and downward-slanting eyebrows that stirred a person’s protective instincts. The adorable young girl reminded me of a small animal.

She smiled, her eyes locked onto Sir Leonhart. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Duchess Prelier, Sir Leonhart. My name is Sandra. I’m Count Baalke’s second daughter.”

During the entirety of her greetings, Miss Sandra’s eyes remained glued to Sir Leonhart. I couldn’t tell whether she admired him or harbored serious affection for him, but my heart pounded when I saw the obvious passion that filled her gaze.

“It’s a pleasure, Miss Sandra.” Though I responded with a smile, I was amazed by how petty-minded I was. I was supposed to be fully aware of how popular Sir Leonhart was, so I was disappointed in myself for getting jealous over every single little thing.

“I admire the both of you. It feels like a dream that I’m talking to you like this right now... My heart feels so full that I almost can’t breathe.” Her cheeks were flushed, and her little gesture of placing her hand on her chest was incredibly cute.

“She’s only recently made her debut, yet she doesn’t pay any attention to the men around her age. It’s quite the predicament. Sir Leonhart, if you don’t mind, would you help her make a nice memory and dance one song with her?”

Miss Sandra’s eyes sparkled when she heard Duke Schletter’s suggestion. My immediate instinct was to say no, but it was difficult to decline given the way he’d phrased it. It’s just one song, I reasoned, and I released Sir Leonhart’s hand.

However, he didn’t let go. Surprised by the pressure in his grip, I swayed slightly, and he caught me in his arms.

“Rose, do you feel unwell?” he asked.

“Huh?” I uttered, bewildered.

He held me firmly by the waist as he peered down at me with concern. “Why don’t we move somewhere else and take a break?”

“What? But—”

“You’re taking care of two now, not just yourself, so don’t overdo it.”

I tried to gauge Miss Sandra’s reaction, but Sir Leonhart’s hand on my cheek blocked my vision.

“Duke Schletter, my deepest apologies, but I want to let my wife rest, so we’ll excuse ourselves now,” Sir Leonhart said.

“O-Of course,” the duke stammered. He couldn’t insist that my husband escort a different lady when his wife was feeling ill on top of being pregnant. Duke Schletter nodded, his face twitching slightly.

I could feel Miss Sandra and Duke Schletter watching us as we left the hall. I stole glances at Sir Leonhart’s profile as we headed for the lounge. His face showed that he was in a bad mood, but it was of a different kind than earlier.

“L-Leon...?”

“I told you that I wouldn’t leave your side today no matter what.”

I recalled how he’d asked me to stay close by his side the entire night. When I’d decided to attend a soiree, that had been his condition. My heart was full—he prioritized me to the point that it made me feel silly for feeling insecure.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

His eyebrows drooped bashfully, and he murmured, “Me too. I’m sorry for being immature.”

We looked at each other and smiled. The hazy cloud that had shrouded my heart until moments ago vanished before I knew it.

The Second Prince’s Contest

The orchestra’s elegant melody filled the hall. With a young lady’s soft hand in my own, I weaved my way through the men and women dancing along to the waltz. I supported her slender waist with one arm and spun her with my other. When she returned to my chest, I took in her passionate gaze and smiled in return.

Her cheeks were dyed red like a ripe fruit. “Prince Johan!” She euphorically called my name, looking up at me with glazed eyes.

For any other healthy, adult man, this scene might have had a dizzying effect, but I was honestly fed up with it.

“To think I get to share a dance with you, Your Highness... It’s like a dream.”

“It’s an honor to hear that from a beautiful woman like you,” I replied politely.

She cast her eyes down shyly.

How many times have I seen that reaction now? I sighed internally. I knew I was being rude. However, I’d been dancing without pause ever since the soiree had begun, and I’d been experiencing the same cookie-cutter conversation and reaction—I was sick and tired of it.

This is already the sixth girl. I want this unproductive period to end already. I’ve already fulfilled my obligations as royalty, so I want free time too. My older sister is dressed up so beautifully tonight, and I haven’t had the opportunity to see her up close. I can’t let my evening end like this.

When my dance partner’s gaze drifted away from me, I glanced in my sister’s direction. When I did, I saw someone approaching her. I almost clicked my tongue when I saw who it was.

Of all people, Duke Schletter?

Duke Schletter was the previous king’s younger brother’s son. Put simply, he was the current king’s cousin, but they shared virtually no similarities. If I were to be generous, their eyes were of similar shades, but that was it. They were completely different inside and out.

In comparison to the current king, who had just entered his forties but looked like he was in his early thirties, the duke, who was ten years older, appeared his age—no, looked like he was in his mid-fifties. Perhaps there had been some resemblance when they were younger, but given that the duke spoiled himself whereas the king was strict on himself and on others, the gap widened by the year.

Because the previous royal couple had not been blessed with a child for many years, there had been a period of time when the duke had been considered a potential heir to the throne, but he’d been deemed unsuitable. He was arrogant, satisfied to rest on his laurels and look down on others. He had the foolishness to surround himself with obedient yes-men and eliminate loyal subjects who would give candid advice. On top of that, growth was near impossible when he hated working hard.

What would Nevel be like now if that thing had become king? However, that good-for-nothing man is a true blue blood. Crushing him without good reason would be difficult, so the current status quo is to leave him be. But for that eyesore of a man to approach my precious sister?

“Unforgivable,” I muttered aloud by accident.

“Huh?” my partner responded.

Judging by her blank expression, it doesn’t seem she heard me clearly. Or she didn’t understand what I meant and thinks she misheard. Either way, if I put on a pleasant smile, she’ll blush without questioning a thing and avert her gaze. Once again, I’m grateful I was born with this face.

A single smile of mine cancels out my nasty personality, though it only works on women. If it’s something minor like using a bit of vulgar language or clicking my tongue, then smiling with this irreproachable princely visage of mine causes my companion to assume that they must’ve heard wrong, which is very convenient.

It was an awful internal monologue to have while I wore a nonchalant expression and continued to dance. I kept observing Duke Schletter all the while. He called over a young lady and introduced her to my sister and Leonhart.

Isn’t that Count Baalke’s second daughter? She’s the duke’s niece. I heard that her engagement to the heir of a marquis household was broken off several months ago. There are many rumors flying around about why that happened, but the truth is unclear.

Whatever the cause, finding her a new family to marry into will be difficult. If her family were willing to finance her, then marrying a viscount or baron would be possible, but parents are rarely willing to do that for a daughter whose engagement was broken off once.

In that case, her only options would be to marry an older man as his second wife or become the mistress of a high-ranking noble. And this is that rotten duke we’re talking about—he must’ve arbitrarily decided that Leonhart is pent-up now that his wife is pregnant and is trying to supply him with a young woman. His true motive is to sneak his own kin into the Prelier Duchy because it’s anticipated to flourish even more in the future. What utter nonsense.

Does he really think Leonhart would fall for a woman just because she’s young and beautiful? It’s true that he likes my sister’s appearance, but the duke has the causality mixed up. Leonhart doesn’t love her because she’s beautiful—he loves my sister, who happens to be beautiful.

Even when my sister grows old or if she suffers a large wound on her face, Leonhart will surely remain devoted. But the duke ignores his wise wife in favor of his young mistress, so I doubt he’s capable of comprehending that.

As if to prove my train of thought, Leonhart paid no attention to the young lady. He pulled my sister close when she was about to take a step back and firmly held her by the waist so she couldn’t escape.

When I saw that he was leaving the hall with my sister, I panicked. I don’t care that he rejected the young lady and the duke’s advances, but where is that man going? Don’t tell me he’s planning to go home. I haven’t even had a proper conversation with my sister yet!

I was overtaken by impatience when—perfect timing—the song ended. I gave my partner a quick bow and was about to take my leave, but she stopped me.

“Prince Johan, um... If you don’t mind, would you dance one more song with me?” she asked.

Though it was a lovely young lady imploring me to stay, my heart didn’t stir one bit. On the contrary, my irritation only grew. It was common knowledge that neither I nor my brother danced with the same partner twice. Asking us to break that rule was tantamount to saying, “Give me special treatment.”

My eyes narrowed, and the young lady’s shoulders began to tremble. When she released my hand, her eyebrows drooped sadly.

“I’m sorry. Unfortunately, I plan to go see my sister now,” I said.

“Huh? Your sister?” she repeated, confused.

“Yes. Goodbye, until the next opportunity arises.”

The rest of the young ladies who were waiting for their turns with me seemed to have overheard, because they quickly cleared the way.

Freedom at last. I let out a sigh of relief as I headed toward the door my sister and Leonhart had exited through. However, en route, I ran into my brother. I had falsely assumed that he would remain in the hall, but it seemed he was of the same mind. I could glean that based on the way his eyes widened.

“Chris...” I could feel a scowl forming.

My brother looked away for a moment in deliberation. Then, he immediately fixed me with a regal expression. “Johan, are you familiar with the seniority rule?” he asked solemnly.

I was struck speechless. Aren’t you supposed to be the type of person who despises old-fashioned ways of thinking like that?! Gentle and sincere, fair and upright. People say there’s no crown prince more fitting to be the next king than you, and you’re being selfish now of all times?

“Shouldn’t you yield to your cute younger brother during moments like this?” I asked.

“You are indeed my cute little brother, but at the same time, I also think of you as my invaluable and reliable right-hand man.”

He said it with such a straight face that I was at a loss for words. He wasn’t flattering me to remedy the situation—he truly meant every word—and that was unfair of him. Hearing that genuinely made me a little happy, but I didn’t want to surrender. After all, considering the fact that my sister was pregnant, she could go home at any moment.

I thought for a moment and then said, “Very well. Let’s decide this fairly, then.”

“How?” he asked.

I wordlessly made a fist and lightly shook it up and down. Chris blinked at me several times, then nodded.

“So be it. Come this way.” He led me to a corner of the hall away from prying eyes.

“Don’t we stand out more huddled up in a corner?” I pointed out.

“Even if we do, that’s better than others seeing us play rock-paper-scissors.”

It would be bad if people knew that two grown men were settling a dispute with a game of rock-paper-scissors. Furthermore, the participants are the first and second in line for the throne; it would make people apprehensive about this nation’s future.

I could analyze our situation objectively, as though I weren’t directly involved, but even so, stopping wasn’t an option. I discarded my shame and prepared to throw down. In order to defeat my honest and stubborn older brother, I opened my palm.

The Reincarnated Duchess Takes a Break

I bit into an orange slice. Sour fruit juice spread throughout my mouth, revitalizing me.

“Delicious,” I said.

“I’m glad. Can you eat a little more? Let me know what other fruit you’d like, and I’ll peel it for you.” Sir Leonhart’s hands didn’t stop moving while he spoke. He cut another orange into easy-to-eat slices. His knife work was so deft that it was hard to believe he considered himself bad at cooking.

He used to struggle because even though swords and kitchen knives are both blades, they’re handled way differently, but he’s allegedly been using his free time to learn tips and techniques from the head chef.

“Thank you. I’d like another orange,” I said.

“With pleasure.” There was a note of pride in his happy smile, and it made my heart flutter.

He seems like the total package who can do anything, but he actually works very hard behind the scenes. God, my husband is so my type in every respect that it hurts. I enjoyed succulent fruits as I listened to the distant orchestra music. The song had changed from a fast-paced beat to a slow melody. Chris and Johan were surrounded by a flock of young ladies. They must still be dancing in the center of the great hall.

“Is it okay to make myself at home like this?” I felt a little guilty for leaving the soiree at its height and leisurely relaxing in the lounge. Although I’d achieved my goal of advertising the accessories, I couldn’t say the results were adequate just yet. Plus, my socializing had been quite half-baked.

However, Sir Leonhart just smiled, as though he’d seen through my uneasiness. “It’s fine. Merely attending tonight was sufficient.”

“Yes, you’re right.” I feel rushed to achieve success, but overexerting myself is forbidden. When I decided to attend this event, I promised that I’d put my health first. Just as I finished my thought and began to relax, someone knocked on the door.

Sir Leonhart and I exchanged puzzled glances.

Is it another guest? The only people who’d follow us uninvited to the lounge are those who are relatively close to us. Coming here is a much higher hurdle than striking up a conversation with us in the hall. It could only be family and relatives. Still, tonight’s soiree is being hosted by the royal family. It’d be difficult for my parents and brothers to leave the venue.

“Is it my father-in-law and mother-in-law, perhaps?” The faces of Sir Leonhart’s parents, the marquis and marchioness of the Orsein family, came to mind.

My kindhearted in-laws dote on me as though I were their own child. They became more overprotective when they learned of my pregnancy, so they might have come to check up on us out of worry. I was about to stand and get the door, but Sir Leonhart stopped me.

“I’ll answer it.” When he reached the door, he conversed with whoever it was on the other side for some time. However, I was too far away to hear the unknown visitor’s voice.

“Leon? If it’s father-in-law and mother-in-law, then please let them in.” I stood up from the sofa and turned around right as the door swung open.

“Yeah. I’ll let myself in.”

It was a different voice than I’d expected, and my eyes grew wide as saucers. “Huh?”

Though it was dignified and commanding, it was different from my father-in-law’s gentle and serene tone. I’ve heard this haughty voice before. He was a blindingly beautiful young man—or, he wore the guise of one, at least. In actuality, an old man in his forties brazenly stepped through the doorway into the room.

“Oh, it’s not father,” I said with a sigh.

He shot me an offended look. Even with an eyebrow raised, his radiantly beautiful visage remained unmarred. “I’m also your father, though.”

Uh, yeah, except... I’ve never called you father, but we’ll set that aside. “Yes, that’s true. By the way, why are you here?” I gave him an empty smile, but he didn’t seem to care.

I hadn’t offered him a seat, but my father sat down on the sofa across from me without hesitation. I glowered at him suspiciously, and he stared back at me. Though I had nothing to hide, his piercing gaze made me extremely uncomfortable.

“Do I need a reason to see my daughter?” he asked.

My jaw dropped, and a silly “Huh?” slipped out of me. I couldn’t immediately process his words.

A father doesn’t need a reason to visit his daughter. Generally speaking, that would be a true statement. But that doesn’t apply to our parent-child relationship. Sure, I’ve become able to hold normal conversations with him as of late, but we still don’t have such a friendly rapport. All things said, when he boldly asserts such, it’s hard to rebut.

I inadvertently glanced at Sir Leonhart for backup. He returned to my side, forced a dry smile, and urged me to sit down as well. Though I wasn’t happy about it, I took my seat.

“You don’t need a reason...but is it all right for the event’s organizer to leave the hall?” I asked quietly, awkwardly averting my gaze. I wasn’t used to having a normal conversation with my father, so I ended up saying something not very cute.

“Three members of the royal family will suffice. My sons also merrily sent me off.”

For some reason, it sounded like there was some hidden meaning behind his words. “Is that so?”

The doubt must’ve shown on my face, because the corners of my father’s lips quirked up. He waved his right hand lightly. “They both wholeheartedly agreed.”

Unable to take it at face value, I decided it must’ve been a metaphor for something. I tilted my head to the side. However, no matter how hard I analyzed his statement, I couldn’t think of any other way to interpret it besides its literal meaning.

I guess, as he says, Chris and Johan happily sent him off. When I thought about it that way, I felt very conflicted. My relationship with my father wasn’t the estranged, colder-than-strangers association that it’d been in the past, but I still couldn’t bring myself to be honest with him—I felt almost like a teen in their rebellious phase. And here I thought that the ever-calm and wise Chris and the quick-witted and affable Johan also treated our father with a similar attitude.

I didn’t want to believe that I was the only one who acted childishly toward him, so I doggedly asked again. “Really?”

My father wasn’t angered by this—his eyes narrowed cheerfully. “Yes. After all, according to Christoph, there is the ‘seniority rule.’”

“Chris said that?” He truly is such an upstanding person. If it were me, I’d say, “Who cares about seniority?” and push father aside. Oh, how shameful. I’m going to be a parent next year, so I need to grow up a little.

I began reflecting upon myself internally. Interacting with my father still isn’t my favorite thing ever, but I don’t hate it. I don’t want to show my child a strained relationship with my parents. I should slowly work up to meeting him halfway.

Right as I made up my mind, my eyes locked with my father’s. I was used to squaring off against him in situations where defeat was not an option, so I reflexively wanted to glare, but I suppressed the urge and smiled instead.

Be nice. Be nice. I repeated those words in my heart as I kept my lips curved up. However, my father wrinkled his brow as though he’d seen something baffling. Then, he returned to his usual deadpan face.

His sudden change in expression made my face muscles throw in the towel. Smiling insincerely at my father is pointless. What was I thinking? It’s so meaningless I almost want to turn it into a proverb. Casting pearls before swine would probably be more valuable. I’d tossed aside my resolve in seconds flat and returned to sullenly snubbing him.

“By the way,” my father said, drawing my attention to him. “How is the soiree?”

If I were to be honest, I’d sum it up in one word: tiring. However, if I gave my father an honest reply, he’d only scoff at me. I gave up on searching for the right words.

He didn’t wait for me to answer though and continued. “I saw you got entangled with someone bothersome.”

Evidently, he’d seen me converse with Duke Schletter.

“It was a good learning experience,” I replied with a wry smile.

Wrinkles reappeared on my father’s forehead. “Well, perhaps so. That one is straightforward—in a negative way. He’s greedy and unsightly, but he is so preoccupied with immediate gain that he’s a person of little consequence. He’s perfect for a beginner unaccustomed to the poison of high society.”

Duke Schletter was an open book who’d charged right at me with malice. Even if I made every effort, I didn’t see us getting along, but he was easy to handle. In comparison, someone who approached me posing as a good-natured person was more troublesome. A single misspoken word or incorrect response would instantly be rewarded with having the carpet pulled from under me.

With that in mind, I had to agree that Duke Schletter was a good opponent for a beginner like me. When I remembered the face of the small-fry duke, the lady who’d appeared like a small animal—Miss Sandra—also came to mind.

“Come to think of it, the girl that Duke Schletter was escorting... Do you know the young lady from House Baalke?”

“I do. Ostensibly, she’s infatuated with your husband.”

That pissed me off. I might have brought her up, but to dive straight into the topic I wanted to touch upon least?

“What? Are you jealous?” my father asked.

I said nothing.

“Ah, so there is a side of you that’s like a normal woman,” he said in an impressed tone.

“I’ve always been a normal woman, now and in the past,” I replied without hiding my foul mood.

I can’t put myself in an objective frame of mind to feel proud of the fact that a beautiful young lady has the hots for my beloved husband and shrug it off with a smile. I’m simply jealous, and I don’t find it amusing. Of course I won’t!

However, I should be careful not to let it show on my face. If I act too jealous, Sir Leonhart will tire of me. And yet, my father is completely oblivious to how I feel and just blurted that out.

I glared at him. He motioned for me to look to my side. Confused, I turned and locked eyes with Sir Leonhart, whose face was bright red.

My eyes went round.

Sir Leonhart looked away. He remained staring off into the distance and cleared his throat to recompose his expression. “Please, don’t mind me.”

That’s impossible. I’m super curious.

Sir Leonhart covered his mouth with his palm, trying to hide his flushed cheeks. I sensed embarrassment and agitation in his expression, but not in a negative way. It might be wishful thinking on my part, but he seems...a little happy.

“Please don’t stare so hard,” Sir Leonhart mumbled in response to my ardent gaze.

His clearly embarrassed expression and the way his voice was barely audible shot an arrow through my heart. My husband is so darn cute!

While my heart was pounding, an annoying voice interrupted. “Do this elsewhere.”

Oh yeah, I completely forgot that my father is right here. Even I’m not courageous enough to boldly flirt in front of my parents. My face rapidly heated up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. I awkwardly coughed a few times and changed the subject. “Erm, so, we were talking about Count Baalke’s daughter.”

“Yes. I am aware.”

His tone was so exasperated that I wanted to run away. Oh, whatever, you annoying old man. “Does Miss Sandra not have a fiancé?”

I set aside my jealousy for the time being. Miss Sandra still uses her father’s last name, so she must be unwed. If she has a fiancé, then her attitude toward Sir Leonhart is somewhat of an issue, but if she doesn’t have one, then it’s even more of a problem.

Overtly displaying your affections and asking a married man to dance would make others suspect that you want to become his mistress. It could scare off marriage proposals, so her guardian should’ve put a stop to it from the beginning, yet her escort and uncle, Duke Schletter, spurred her on instead. It’s an unnatural thing to do, and it’s been sitting in the back of my mind this whole time.

“She does not.” My father crossed his long legs and clasped his hands on top of them. “I suppose it would be more accurate to say she used to have one.”

“Was her engagement broken off?” I murmured, digesting his usage of the past tense.

My father nodded. According to him, Miss Sandra had been engaged to the heir of a marquis family, but it had been broken off a few months ago. Publicly, it had been settled amicably, but apparently the marquis side had paid a hefty sum to forcibly sever ties.

“Oh, I see...”

Although Nevel is better than our neighboring countries, our nation still tends to be chauvinistic. Regardless of who is actually at fault, the woman will be the one hurt when a betrothal is called off. It’s sad, but there’s a high probability that she will be called damaged goods and will no longer receive proper marriage offers.

I recalled how Miss Sandra’s eyes had sparkled when she’d looked at Sir Leonhart. I thought it was the admiration of a naive, recent debutante, but perhaps her emotions stemmed from something more urgent.

“You truly are a handful of a daughter.”

“Huh?”

“If you won’t mock her for getting her just deserts, then forget it. Do not burden yourself with the inessential.” My father looked down and let out a short sigh. He spoke in a reprimanding tone, but strangely, his gaze was filled with kindness. “You should only think about your own health and your child’s.”

That didn’t make me feel antagonistic. My father is right, probably. I’ve started forming conjectures about Miss Sandra’s situation from a tiny scrap of information and arbitrarily begun sympathizing with her. Doing that is meaningless. Even if my theory is correct, there’s no way I’ll ever give up my place next to Sir Leonhart.

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

My father nodded back. He reached out his hand. For a moment I wondered what he was going to do, and then he rudely tousled my hair.

“What the?!” Before I could fully react, he suddenly stopped.

“It’s about time for me to return,” he said as though nothing had happened. Then, he stood up. “Goodbye—until next time.”

While I was still dumbfounded, he calmly strolled out of the room.

The First Prince’s Indignation

Twenty minutes had passed since I’d pasted a flimsy smile on my face and begun chatting with a few women. I was normally expressionless, so my facial muscles were already screaming. The corners of my mouth were on the verge of spasming. I respected my younger brother for his ability to keep an amicable smile on, no matter whom he was talking to.

“Your Highness, do you agree as well?”

I nearly jumped when I was suddenly dragged into the conversation. I somehow managed to suppress the urge, but my heart was racing.

This is bad. I have no clue what they were talking about. I was so distracted that I wasn’t listening to them at all. But I would offend them if I honestly admitted I hadn’t been listening. I was at a loss, and the advice my savvy younger brother had given me crossed my mind. As he’d once told me, I put on an ambivalent smile.

The noble lady who had asked me the question blushed furiously and looked down. “I apologize. I spoke out of turn.”

“Us as well...”

“Indeed. His Highness would never judge a woman by her appearance.”

The other noble ladies began to speak up one by one. Based on what I gleaned from their responses, their question apparently had something to do with my preferences for a woman’s appearance.

“As I thought, His Highness is different from other men.”

“Yes, he truly is.”

The ladies’ cheeks became a rosy red, and they smiled blissfully. Watching them made me appreciate the accuracy of Johan’s advice. According to him, “When you’re in a bind, don’t say anything—just smile. If you do that, the other person will interpret it in a favorable way for you.”

However, in this instance, it pricked my conscience. I was at fault for not listening to the conversation, and yet the ladies were directing affectionate gazes at me. It made me feel extremely uncomfortable. I turned away as though I were fleeing from their passionate stares. Just as I did, I spotted someone enter the hall.

He was a man more expressionless and unfriendly than I, yet he had more presence than any other. The moment I laid eyes on him, the rage that had abated was reignited once more.

Irritation colored my vision as I watched him calmly stroll in. Our gazes met. Without seeming surprised in the slightest, his eyes narrowed, his demeanor as arrogant as ever. I felt like he was scoffing at me, but perhaps that was a delusion born from paranoia.

After that, he lost interest in me and turned elsewhere. From the bottom of my heart, I wanted to punch his nonchalant profile.

“Pardon me. I remembered there’s something I must attend to,” I said.

“Huh?”

“No...”

The young ladies tried to stop me, but they relented when they realized I was looking at the king. I slipped past the dejected women and headed straight for him. He had stepped onto a balcony facing the garden and was in the middle of receiving a drink. The servant finished pouring a dark-red liquid into his glass and then flinched when they saw my icy gaze, but they quickly fixed their expression. The king waved his hand, and the servant bowed before taking their leave.

“What is it? You’re interrupting my break, so it must be for a good reason.” The king gently shook his wineglass, as though to show me he was resting.

“My apologies. I was under the impression that the break time you wrested away from me and Johan had ended long ago.”

A vein was probably bulging on my forehead, and a disturbing thought even crossed my mind. I’m so furious that maybe it’ll be okay if I hit him somewhere that’s covered up by his clothes. In the first place, either Johan or I was supposed to take a break—no, we were supposed to get to see Rose. But then he swooped in from the side and snatched the privilege away from us. How dare he act so brazenly? The word “audacious” perfectly describes him.

I’d never had many opportunities to see Rose, but now I had even fewer. Soon, she would return to Prelier, and after she gave birth, she wouldn’t leave for some time. And as the crown prince, I couldn’t leave the capital easily. I wanted to treasure the limited time I could spend with my sister, so I hadn’t even yielded to my cute little brother.

Johan hadn’t yielded either, so we’d agreed to use rock-paper-scissors—the easiest method—to decide who could go. My brother might’ve seemed like a flexible person, but he could be surprisingly stubborn. Thus, I had anticipated he would throw out rock. As a result, we’d tied... At least, we should have.

Who could have predicted that our forty-year-old father would cut in with scissors? The king had shown no trace of emotion while Johan and I had gawked at him, dumbfounded. He’d been as expressionless as ever and said, “I win.”

Obviously, that had snapped us back to our senses. We had refused to accept it. “This is a serious match—don’t try to butt in” and “You waited to throw out your move! That’s cheating!” Our protests had been so feeble that I felt like my face would catch fire recalling it now. Then again, it might’ve been too late to be ashamed of our childish arguments when two grown adults were playing rock-paper-scissors.

The king had quietly listened to our grievances, waiting for us to finish. He’d crossed his arms and, as though he were carefully deliberating, looked up to his left. Then, he’d slowly blinked once. I’d thought he would return his gaze to us, but the corners of his mouth had lifted ever so slightly. Before I’d even determined that he was smiling, cold chills had started to run down my spine.

“In that case, I’ll have you both repay the debt you owe me from last time.”

We were speechless.

The king had squinted cheerfully at us. The debt that’d come to mind was when my stepmother, Johan, and I had visited the Prelier house. The king had been referring to the few words he’d written on a slip of paper and purposefully delivered to us there. That evening, when I’d returned to the castle, my desk had been piled high with documents. I had assumed that those papers were the equivalent price I’d need to pay, and I’d solemnly finished the work, but when I’d thought about it again, I’d realized that he had never explicitly said that.

That said, is he really calling in that debt now? I had thought.

“Or would you rather I claim seniority, as you suggested earlier?”

It’d been easy to tell that he’d been making a snide remark. The onus had been on me anyway for trying to threaten Johan with the seniority rule. However, I’d felt that only Johan had the right to criticize me for that, not the king.

“Choose whichever you prefer,” the king had said.

No matter which option we would’ve chosen, the result wouldn’t have changed. So, we’d replied, “The former,” through gritted teeth, never wanting to taste such humiliation again. If we’d let the debt remain unpaid, who knew what sort of unreasonable demand he would’ve foisted upon us in the future.

After that absurd exchange, the king should have gone to see Rose. I had assumed he wouldn’t return for at least an hour, but not even thirty minutes had yet passed. If he had urgent business to attend to, then fine, but he was currently insisting that he was still taking a break. It didn’t add up.

“If you’re still resting, then wouldn’t it have been better to spend more time with Rose?” I was forming a spiteful conjecture that Rose had disliked his presence and chased him off. I wondered if he could tell what I was thinking.

The king elegantly tilted his wineglass. His pose would have painted a lovely picture, pointlessly so, but all I could think about was how he wouldn’t get drunk, no matter how much alcohol he drank, so he might as well have just gulped water. What a waste of the highest-quality full-bodied wine.

He didn’t even seem to be savoring the taste. He swallowed half of it like water and regarded me with an exasperated look. “Are you saying I should spend a prolonged period of time with my pregnant daughter? Have some common sense.”

Being lectured about common sense from the person who had the least common sense in the family put me in shock.

“Besides, if it were her mother, that would be one thing, but having male relatives loitering around her would be of no use.”

This vexed me, but I couldn’t retort. Just as it held true for the king, if I were by Rose’s side, I couldn’t do anything for her either. If anything, she would fuss over me, and I would risk tiring her out.

Is that why he hindered Johan and me? No, that can’t be. He’s not a man who’s capable of such meticulous thoughtfulness.

“All of you had better not coddle her too much,” said the king.

“But she might have had unpleasant experiences at tonight’s event... I’m worried.”

Directly before Rose had left the hall, she had conversed with Duke Schletter. He was someone who made many belittling remarks about women, so he was sure to have many opinions about Rose being conferred the position of duchess regnant. He must’ve said one or two nasty things.

However, the king snorted as though I’d said the most asinine thing. “She’s not so weak.”

Rose was strong at heart. Nonetheless, I didn’t think that kind girl was accustomed to such blatant malice.

“Even if you fret, that one’s husband will handle it. Neither of you will have a role to play.”

True. If Rose is hurt, Leonhart won’t let it be. Besides, if she’s having a hard time, she would obviously rather have her beloved husband by her side than her older brother. Does the king have a better understanding of Rose than I do? That unpleasant question sprang to mind, but I shook my head and dismissed the thought.

A Certain Spy Experiences a Whirlwind of Emotions

The orchestra’s music played in the distance. Light seeped through a single layer of curtains from the great hall, brightly lit as though night had not yet descended. Separated from the tumult, two people stood outside on a balcony.

“You’re right,” the crown prince said quietly.

He wore a sorrowful expression, one so beautiful that I wanted to capture it on paper and frame it. I almost felt it regrettable that the only one admiring it was a dirty crow perched on a branch.

“I can rest assured if I entrust the matter to Leonhart... Though it’s a little frustrating.” The crown prince smiled bitterly. “I will refrain from seeing her in person. However, sending a message would be acceptable, yes? I’m worried about Rose’s health, and I’d like to send her home soon.”

His Majesty the King glanced at the prince and shook his head slightly. “They’ll be on their way soon if you leave them be.” To answer the prince’s dubious look, His Majesty continued in a blasé tone, “I ruined her hair. Even if her maid tries to fix it, it’ll take time to rearrange it the same way.”

“Huh...?” Unable to grasp the meaning of his explanation, the crown prince looked flabbergasted, and I, who was eavesdropping on them, was likely making the same face.

“That one is stubborn, so it’s possible she won’t give up, but Leonhart will persuade her,” His Majesty stated dispassionately.

“Um, please hold on,” the crown prince said, trying to slow the conversation. “You...ruined her hair? What in the world did you do to Rose?”

“I merely patted her head.”

“Huh?”

I almost made the same noise. It was a struggle, but I managed to swallow it back down—it showed how shocking that was to hear.

His Majesty patted the princess’s head? That heartless human... Actually, sometimes I suspect he might not even be the same kind of life-form as the rest of us. That king did what? The man who didn’t even think of himself as a father and didn’t hold a shred of affection for his family? That same king?

There were so many parts to be surprised about that I didn’t know what to retort with first. I’m a third-party observer, and I’m this shaken, so how bewildered must the princess be? It required little effort to imagine her trembling in fear, wondering if it was some kind of trap or an omen of a natural disaster. She must be trembling like a small animal. I pitied her.

“You patted Rose’s head? You?”

“Is that a sin?”

Their conversation continued while I was escaping from reality.

Although His Majesty’s face was devoid of expression, he gave off a shameless air. He snorted. “Is it wrong for a father to pat his own daughter’s head?”

The crown prince was at a loss for words, but his face had It’s wrong written in large letters on it. Even though he had no justifiable reason to denounce the king, he didn’t want to accept it on an emotional level. The crown prince was the princess’s older brother, but he was also a father figure to her.

Ever since the princess was young, she had always been bad at acting like a child. The crown prince, who had watched over her all the while, had the sole privilege of being the only person who could treat her like her age. Giving her a head pat was the prime example of an action that fell under his special rights. It was only natural he would be furious that his biological father—who had always been apathetic toward children—was suddenly infringing upon those rights now.

His Majesty surely knows how the crown prince feels, but he fanned the flames on purpose. He has an awful personality. I want to tell him, “Your kids hate you because you act like this!” Not that I ever would. I value my life.

Suddenly, a dignified and lovely voice interrupted the unproductive parent-child feud. “It is wrong.”

A blindingly beautiful woman entered the fray. Her face closely resembled the princess’s—it was Her Majesty the Queen. She glared at His Majesty and the crown prince, her slightly upturned eyes drawn into thin lines.

“You stole a march on me and visited Rose, and you patted her head on top of that? I seldom ever get the chance to do that... I’m envious.”

I was taken aback. What did she just say with such a straight face?

“And need I remind you that this event is hosted by the royal family? For two royals to be secretly hiding out here... Of course you’re in the wrong.”

“Stepmother. I’m very sorry.”

“It’s just one noisy person after another. I can’t take a break like this.”

There was something lovable about the way the crown prince became crestfallen like a child caught mid-prank. On the other hand, His Majesty took on a brazen attitude, showing no signs of remorse.

Irritated, the queen raised one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. Her heels clacked on the floor as she approached the king with a menacing smile. She stretched out her arm and plucked the wineglass from His Majesty’s hand.

“Oh my. If you want to take a break, then please relax on the throne in the hall. You’re not one to be bothered by stares, so it doesn’t matter where you rest. Isn’t that right?”

I felt like I could hear her inner voice: “If you’re not going to do anything, then at the very least be a showpiece.”

The enraged queen’s smile reminded me very much of the princess when she was angry. I thought they were completely different besides their appearances, but their personalities might be unexpectedly similar.

The couple wordlessly glared at each other. Seconds passed.

His Majesty was the first to fold. He sighed in resignation and walked past the queen. She and the crown prince followed after him into the great hall.

I exhaled as I gazed at the empty balcony. Witnessing that unbelievable spectacle had exhausted me. A cold and awkward father, a mother who henpecks her husband, and their rebellious children. Commonplace interactions of a run-of-the-mill family. However, when I consider the fact that it’s that royal family—the one people say is so beautiful that they don’t seem human—the narrative is a great deal different.

No one would believe me if I told them... No, even if I told my past self, he’d laugh, and that would be the end of it.

It was a fact—up until a few years ago, the royal family had not been a normal family. Their relationships had been as cold and lifeless as their doll-like exteriors. Their current relationship was by no means the result of a natural course of events. Rather, their present had been shaped by the princess’s unrelenting and excruciating efforts.

She truly is incredible, that one. A wry smile played on my lips as I pictured the face of that young girl—one who looked like a gust of wind could snap her in two but who’d even scaled a precipitous mountain with spirit and willpower.

I scanned the area from atop a large tree. There wasn’t even a mouse nearby, let alone an assassin, which was likely because the situations with neighboring nations had settled down for the most part. I had thought it would be a dull night, but contrary to my expectations, I’d witnessed something amusing, so I was satisfied.

Let’s just take it easy for the remainder of the time. I was leaning against the trunk of the tree when I heard whispers coming from the garden beneath me. A spy would never be gleefully chatting in enemy territory, so I reasoned that the voices belonged to some servants, knights on patrol, or guests who’d slipped out of the great hall.

The voices are too far away to hear from here. In one smooth motion, I silently descended from the tree. I kept myself hidden as I approached the voices. On the other side of a rosebush, I spotted a man and a woman who appeared to be guests of the soiree facing each other. I’d thought it might be a pair of clandestine lovers, excited to be on a romantic tryst, but it didn’t appear so.

“Leave me alone,” the young lady said sternly.

I recognize her. I believe she’s Count Baalke’s second daughter, Sandra. She was making eyes at the princess’s husband earlier.

“It has nothing to do with you,” she said coldly.

Deep wrinkles formed on the man’s brow. “I wanted this to have nothing to do with me.” He fixed her with an icy stare.

Sandra turned bright red. Whether it was out of embarrassment or anger, I didn’t know.

That man is the heir to the Schletter family, Franz. He was the son of the king’s foolish cousin, and he’d inherited his father’s straight, chestnut-colored hair and slightly upturned blue eyes. But fortunately, his personality shared little resemblance to his father’s. Raised by a lady renowned for her talents, he was reputed to be intelligent. He was tall and had mature features, though he was around the same age as Sandra.

“It’s not like my father’s foolishness manifested for the first time today, but I never would’ve thought that you’d join him in disgracing yourself in public.”

“I just asked for a dance! What’s wrong with that?” Sandra argued, averting her eyes in shame.

“An unmarried lady does not beg a married man for a dance in front of his wife,” Franz said flatly, shutting down her argument. “Everyone present could see that you were aiming to become his mistress.”

“It’s far too late for that now. I’m already damaged goods. I can’t hope a respectable marriage proposal will fall into my lap.” Sandra looked down, her smile a mix of resignation and self-deprecation.

Even I had heard that a little over two months ago, the engagement between Marquis Hel’s successor and Count Baalke’s second daughter had been dissolved. On the surface, it had been an amicable annulment, but Sandra’s expression clearly said otherwise.

Seeing a beautiful young lady in sorrow would have roused most people’s protective instincts. However, instead of consoling her, Franz narrowed his eyes with disapproval. “Stop playing victim. The other party might have been in the wrong, but I’m hard-pressed to say you had no fault either.”

Sandra looked at him in shock. “He’s the one who had a change of heart, so why am I being blamed?!”

“I agree that your former fiancé was wrong. However, you also carried a torch for another man the entire time.”

“Aren’t I free to love who I want as long as I keep it to myself?”

“Yes, if you had kept it to yourself. However, you compared the two at every turn. Am I incorrect?”

“Well...”

As a spectator, I somewhat pitied Marquis Hel’s heir. The princess’s husband was so perfect that I couldn’t even feel jealous of him as a man. Being the strongest swordsman in the nation would have been plenty already, but he was also quick-witted and highly respected. Moreover, he was handsome in a way that was rare to find—competing against him was reckless.

Constantly being compared to a man like that? Yeah, that would be exhausting.

“To you, it might have been a loveless marriage of convenience, but even so, you should’ve endeavored to establish a relationship of trust.”

Sandra said nothing and bit her lip.

Marquis Hel had nothing to gain from tying a knot with Count Baalke’s family, so it is probable that their betrothal had been arranged because his son had fallen in love with her at first sight. Though the man entered with love in his heart, the woman did not. Then, the woman took his affections for granted, and eventually, his love ran out. As a result, he sought the comfort of a different woman. A typical romantic melodrama.

In addition, there are issues between their families. Marquis Hel’s fortune was built upon commerce. Currently, Prelier is the cornerstone of this nation’s commerce, so of course they would have business deals. Furthermore, in order to reach the capital from Marquis Hel’s domain, one must travel through Prelier. They absolutely do not want to make an enemy of Prelier.

However, Sandra’s family, the Baalke household, are blood relatives to Duke Schletter, who has trained them to be hostile toward the Prelier Duchy. If Marquis Hel’s son found a new lover of a suitable peerage, then his parents must’ve done everything in their power to break off his engagement with Sandra, as if they’d been eagerly waiting to do so.

“But it’s too late for any regrets. If my only option is to become someone’s second wife, then at the very least I want to be with the one I’ve always loved.”

“Ludicrous.” Franz looked at Sandra with undisguised disbelief. “You think you can wedge yourself between the Prelier couple? Do you truly believe you’re a match for that Duchess Prelier?”

She was stumped for words. Franz had just implicitly told her, “Know your place.”

I almost laughed out loud. He’s ruthless, but I agree with him. It’s mystifying that she thought she could rival the princess. She’s just a woman with a face that’s a little pretty...and her appearance she’s so proud of can’t even hold a candle to the princess’s. Why did she think she could compete?

“I know I’m no rival for her, but I just couldn’t bring myself to give up. I want Sir Leonhart to cherish me the way he does her...”

I see her point. The princess’s husband treasures her more than anyone else. I’m sure there are many women who yearn for him when they see what a devoted husband he is. Unfortunately for them, his obsessive love and desire to protect are reserved only for the princess. He won’t treat others like that.

“He would never cherish someone who was rude to his beloved wife. Sir Leonhart is a good-natured man, but I hear he’s merciless toward his enemies.”

They once called him the Black Lion, so there’s no way he would ever show his enemies mercy. If he deems someone to be the princess’s enemy, I’m sure he won’t hesitate to sink his teeth into their throat and tear it out.

Sandra’s face contorted tearfully when she remembered how coldly he had treated her in the hall.

“You should graciously accept defeat,” Franz said.

“Like you can talk! You’re still in love with her!” Sandra yelled as though she were trying to silence his constant barrage of sound logic.

I thought it was an irrelevant counterargument, but Franz didn’t deny it. He didn’t lose his composure either. “And what of it?” he replied calmly.

Conversely, Sandra was the one to become flustered. “Huh? Like... So...”

“I don’t have any foolish dreams of taking Sir Leonhart’s place. Because I know mine, I can contain these feelings and wait for them to disappear.”

Are you serious? Come on, princess, enough is enough. How many promising youths are you going to seduce before you’re satisfied? I looked up at the night sky, my eyes glazing over. I also heard about how she deprived that prince—the one who hails from an island nation to the far east—of his first love. She’s just living her life though, so nothing would come out of trying to hold her accountable, but still...

“Besides, with that as my father, I’m too ashamed to even face her,” Franz said with contempt, his eyes pointed to the ground. “Sometimes, I wish someone would bring him down and make him return his title.”

“H-Hey, you’ll be in a world of trouble if uncle hears that.”

Franz had remained emotionless while he’d made a radical remark. Flustered, Sandra admonished him, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I’d prefer it if he disowned me.”

“The son of a duke could never survive as a commoner.”

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be easy, but I’ve made preparations to a certain extent. I’ll make do.” When he saw Sandra’s flummoxed expression, the corners of his lips turned up slightly. “I’m joking. I couldn’t let him go unchecked.”

“Franz...”

“You don’t need to be confined to your home, so why don’t you explore other options? Marriage isn’t the only path to happiness for a woman.”

“It’s impossible. Practically nobody would hire a noble lady without any skills.”

Although we were trending away from a male-dominated society, there were still only a limited number of jobs a noble lady could work. The positions that immediately came to mind were palace maid and home tutor, but both were highly skilled jobs that required connections, so not just anyone could do them.

“Apparently, many unmarried women work in the Prelier domain. Regardless of whether they’re commoners or nobles, all the women there seem to be leading vibrant lives.”

Surprise flashed across Sandra’s face.

“Don’t just regard Duchess Prelier as your enemy—look at her properly. Then maybe you’ll understand why Sir Leonhart loves her so.”

Sandra lowered her head slightly at that. Though there was hesitation in her eyes, her expression was tranquil. The girl had been filled with reckless abandon mere moments ago, but clearly, something had changed.

The Reincarnated Duchess’s Conviction

Ultimately, I didn’t manage to stay until the end of the soiree that I’d been so keen on attending because of my hair—someone had disheveled it during my break. Even with the skills of my capable maid, it would have been difficult to return it to its original state. And even if we’d tried to cover it up by arranging it into a different, simpler hairstyle, it would’ve risked unwarranted speculation from any sharp-eyed attendees.

It wouldn’t have been a huge scandal because we’re married, but I didn’t want to expose myself to inquisitive stares. I quickly threw in the towel and just decided to go home. I didn’t know what my father had been thinking when he’d patted my head, but I optimistically interpreted it as, Hurry up and go home before you feel ill.

As expected, the next day, I came down with a fever. I hadn’t thought I’d been pushing myself particularly hard, but it had been a while since I’d socialized for such an extended period of time, so it must have strained my body and mind. If my father hadn’t given me an excuse to leave, I might’ve ended up in an even worse state.

I was only under the weather for a brief period, and my temperature went down immediately. However, Sir Leonhart vehemently reminded me that I was forbidden from overexerting myself, and I spent a week recuperating.

On the afternoon three days after my convalescence was complete, I was relaxing on our sunny terrace while drinking tea. My health was completely back to normal. In fact, I was bursting with excess energy, but I still hadn’t received permission to return to work. The only task I was allowed was writing reply letters to the people I had met at the soiree.

I thought I could do simple office work without any issues, but I was stopped by both Sir Leonhart and my aide. I felt like they were overreacting a bit, but I had been the one to insist on attending a soiree while pregnant, and I had come down with a fever, so I was facing the consequences of my actions. I docilely obeyed since I was entirely at fault.

I gently caressed my belly, which had begun to swell. “I’m sorry for being a careless mom,” I whispered apologetically to my child. I took a sip of lukewarm barley tea and murmured, “Maybe it’s about time to return to my domain.”

The high season hasn’t ended yet, but I can’t do anything more in the capital. That being the case, it’d be better if I returned to Prelier to begin my birth preparations while my health is still holding up. I may have reliable personnel taking care of things while I’m gone, but I’d still rather not be absent for too long. I’m concerned about how the medical and research facilities are faring, and I’ve already received inquiries about raden craftsmanship, so I need to meet with the artisan.

“Yeah, let’s go home,” I said to myself.

“That’s for the best.”

I was surprised to hear a reply to my soliloquy, and my eyes almost jumped out of my head. My maid and guard were standing a short distance away, and above all, they were true-blue professionals who wouldn’t speak unless addressed.

I turned toward the voice and saw Ratte standing in a spot where no one had been seconds ago. He sat on the white stone banister and smiled gracefully. He always pops out of nowhere. How is he so good at erasing his presence when he has such a gorgeous appearance that should theoretically draw people’s attention? It’s mystifying every time, no matter how many times I see him do it. I studied him like a spectator trying to uncover the secret behind a magic trick until I suddenly realized...

Ratte isn’t smiling.

No, that was an inaccurate statement. His expression was something you would call a smile. Narrowed eyes, upturned mouth—it was a pretty smile. If a stranger saw him, they’d think he was in a jolly old mood right now. However, I’d known him for a pretty long time, and I noticed that his eyes housed an icy glint that chilled me to my bones. The unsettling thing about Ratte was that he often smiled when he was in a bad mood, not just when he was in a good one.

“D-Did something happen?” I asked timidly. I was so nervous that my voice shook a little.

“Hmm? What do you mean?” His smile intensified.

Overpowered by his intimidating aura, I reflexively recoiled. I want to tell him off for answering my question with a question, but I can’t. How could I? Strange... I’m more or less supposed to be the master here.

Face twitching, I replied with an innocuous remark. “Um, if nothing happened, then that’s good. Yep.”

Ratte’s smile vanished. He grabbed the back of the metal garden chair on the other side of the table and sat down without asking for permission. Then he rested his chin on his hand and glared at me. His squinted eyes made it easier to tell that he was in a foul mood, but now he looked like a sulking child, and I no longer found him scary.

“Hey, can I eliminate it this time?” he asked.

Caught off guard, my eyes went round. I didn’t understand what he meant because he’d omitted the specifics. Unable to follow the conversation, I asked, “Eliminate what?”

Ratte’s mood dropped another notch.

Glare at me with as much spite as you want, but I don’t understand what I don’t understand.

“I was stopped last time, and I did a good job of exerting patience, right?”

I gave him a puzzled look. Is this some kind of riddle? Or should I take it at face value? He seems to be implying that something similar happened in the past—I stopped him from doing whatever it was, and he restrained himself. That’s why he’s asking if he can go uncontrolled and eliminate “it” this time.

“If you won’t be more specific, I can’t make a decision.”

He hesitated. “But...you’ll definitely say no if I tell you.”

“Then I’ll say no even if you don’t tell me,” I replied with a wry smile.

Ratte turned away. His reaction showed that he’d already known what my answer would be without needing to hear my reply. “There’s no value in letting that old fart live, though.”

I looked at him with surprise. And here I was finding it heartwarming how transparent Ratte was acting today. The sudden shift to a disturbing topic made me shudder. “Th-That’s what you meant by eliminate?!” When I realized that a person’s life had been on the line during our relaxed conversation, I broke out into a cold sweat.

“Come on. When it comes to that sort of ilk, they’ll never mend their ways no matter what happens. It would be better to swiftly eliminate him for the sake of the world, the people, and you.”

I kept an eye on his callous smile as I contemplated. Given that Ratte claims it’d be for my sake, then that means it’s a person who’s hostile toward me. I gather there are quite a few people who don’t take kindly to me, but there aren’t many who would pick a fight with me head-on. Even at the soiree, the only person who had the gall to flagrantly express his ill will was Duke Schletter.

“You know it was just a couple of snide remarks, right?” I replied, baffled.

Ratte scowled at me. “Even though he tried to hook your husband up with a mistress?”

“Oh...” I said in an idiotic voice. Come to think of it, something like that did happen. Sir Leonhart didn’t pay a shred of attention to her, so it totally slipped my mind. Did Ratte witness that? Or did he hear about it from someone else? Whichever it is, news of those events has reached even Ratte’s ears.

“Princess, even if you’re magnanimous enough to forgive him, he won’t be grateful and will continue to unilaterally treat you like an enemy. It doesn’t matter what wonderful deeds you perform or how many brilliant achievements you rack up. Because of his asinine bias of ‘She’s a woman, so I can look down on her,’ he will continue to deride you.”

I agree with Ratte. Values fostered over many months and years don’t change that easily. In a nation where misogynistic beliefs remain, I will always be an eyesore, no matter what I do as a female feudal lord. I was prepared for that. However, it seems I was remiss in this instance—when I’m disrespected, it can hurt the people who treasure me. I realize that now after seeing how furious Ratte is.

“No, it won’t end with just that. The more your fame grows, the more he’ll come to resent you, and who knows what he’ll plan then.”

“Ratte...”

“I can’t allow that to happen. I won’t.” He looked down, and suddenly, the light from his eyes disappeared, turning them into bottomless swamps. His hand on the table was tense, and his nails scraped against the metal surface, making an unpleasant noise. “Before that happens—”

Trying to drown out his hoarse mutterings, I stuck out both hands in front of his face and brought them together as hard as I could. It was a sumo technique called nekodamashi. The loud clap stunned Ratte’s eyes into wide saucers—he looked just like a startled cat.

“Ratte,” I said.

He blinked at me and held his tongue.

“Thank you for worrying about me.”

Evidently, he had been readying himself for a scolding, because he froze in shock.

“And, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand,” he replied. Though he’d sulkily snubbed me, I could tell he’d probably understood what I wanted to convey.

“I’m always worrying you because I’m not dependable,” I said. As an assassin, Ratte witnesses the dark side of the nation night and day. More than anyone else, he’s familiar with the might of money and authority, as well as the fragility of justice. In his eyes, a fledgling feudal lord like me who only speaks about idealistic pipe dreams is definitely unreliable. “But you don’t need to go that far.”

“Princess, I—”

“You’re currently my spy, correct?”

Ratte froze, and his eyes widened even further. I looked straight at him. And that means...you’re not an assassin anymore.

“That sort of thing is outside of your job description,” I told him with a bright smile.

Like melting ice, Ratte’s stiff expression slowly broke into a smile. “What’re you on about?”

I was relieved to see a teary smile on his face. When I first met Ratte, he only ever wore those shady smiles, but he’s become quite expressive. I think it’s proof that he’s opened up to me, which I’m somewhat proud of. He may be ruthless toward our enemies, but if he’s comfortable in his current environment, then I’m glad.

“I need to become powerful,” I declared.

There are so many things I need to protect now. My family, friends, retainers, servants...everyone at the medical facility and the citizens of my domain too—I need to protect them so they can live happily. And also so I don’t dirty the hands of the people who cherish me. I must become powerful.

“First, economic might.” My resolve renewed, I clenched my hand into a fist.

I consulted with Sir Leonhart about returning to Prelier, and he agreed without resistance. If I were to stay in the capital, I would continue to receive invitations to tea parties, soirees, and other events. He was worried that it would stress me out since I didn’t like socializing. My aides also approved, likely because I’d come down with a fever recently. Thus, we returned to our territory without waiting for the high season to end.

Apparently, there had been no major incidents while we’d been away, and everything had been peaceful. When I saw the ever-energetic faces of those who welcomed us back, I was relieved. Although I had lived many more years in the capital, Prelier had already become my home.

I spent two weeks sifting through detailed reports, completing handovers, and dealing with miscellaneous tasks. Sir Leonhart and my aides let me rest at every opportunity, but I had no issue working in moderation. Actually, once they realized that work was a good change of pace for me, they let me do as I pleased. When I said I wanted to go on an outing, Sir Leonhart readily permitted it under the condition that he escort me.

My destination was at the end of the block lined with shops for nobility. We made our way down the large main road—wide enough for horse-drawn carriages to pass each other with room to spare—and entered a path at its end. My carriage stopped in front of a small storefront. Though the old stone building was part of the commerce district, it didn’t have a single sign, let alone any decorations. It looked like an empty house.

I stepped down from the carriage with Sir Leonhart’s help and rapped firmly on the door.

A few seconds later, a man called out from inside. “Yes? Who is it?” His tone was gentle; his voice was neither high nor low.

“It’s Rosemary,” I replied.

I heard the click of the door unlocking, and then it immediately swung open, revealing a slender man. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. He wore his long, dark-silver hair in a single braid that reached his waist. Though he was dressed in black Osten garments, the design differed somewhat from what the third prince of Osten had worn. This man’s attire resembled a kung fu uniform from my previous life.

“Welcome,” he said, wearing a businesslike smile.

Perhaps it was his narrow, upturned eyes, or maybe it was his elusive and breezy disposition, but he reminded me of a fox. His name was Hiiragi, and he was a merchant from the nation of Osten.

“I’ve been waiting for your safe return,” he said.

“Thank you. Is everyone doing well?” I asked.

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“Is Ayame-san...”—as soon as I mentioned the name of the girl who was from the same village as him, his face twitched slightly—“...working?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

I could guess what the situation was based on his noncommittal tone. “Has she been taking breaks?”

Frowning, Hiiragi sighed. “I tell her to, but she doesn’t listen.”

I joined him, my own brow knitting together. “It feels a bit gauche to disrupt an artisan at work, but I’ll try talking to her.”

“Please do.”

“I’ll wait here with him,” Sir Leonhart said as I proceeded inside.

“Yes, I think that would be for the best,” I replied.

On top of being incredibly shy, Ayame was also bad with men. Hiiragi was the only exception to that rule since he was her childhood friend, but she shrank in the presence of any man besides him. I stood in front of the room at the very end of the hall and raised my hand to knock, but then I stopped. Instead, I soundlessly pulled open the door and caught a whiff of a strange, bittersweet smell.

Inside the room was a petite girl with straight, green-black hair tied behind her. She faced her desk, focused on her work, and didn’t seem to notice my arrival whatsoever. Her gaze and attention were concentrated solely on her craft. I watched her earnest profile and waited for a while.

When she breathed out and relaxed her concentration, I knocked on the door. Her dainty shoulders jumped up with a start. Her eyes rounded when she saw me, and then her cheeks turned red.

“I’m sorry for breaking your concentration,” I said.

“N-No, I’m sorry for not noticing you there... My deepest apologies.” Embarrassed, she looked down. Her demeanor had turned so timid, like that of a small animal—I almost suspected that her borderline fearsome and serious expression from seconds ago had been an illusion.

Her large eyes were the same color as her straight, dark hair. She had the appearance of a lovely, purehearted princess from a Japanese historical play, though she wasn’t clad in fine kosode—instead, she wore work clothes that resembled the samue of Japanese Buddhist monks.

The girl—Ayame—was an artisan from the Kingdom of Osten. The raden accessories my family and I had worn to the soiree were her creations.

“Ayame, the earrings you made were extremely well received in the capital,” I told her.

“Really?!” Her face instantly lit up.

“I’d like to discuss that topic with you, so why don’t you take a short break?”

She glanced at her work and nodded. “Understood.”

Relieved that she’d agreed, I softly exhaled, my hand placed on my chest. Ayame liked crafting raden pieces more than eating three meals a day, so if she were left to her own devices, she would become so engrossed in her work that she would forget to eat and sleep. Her concentration is astounding, but I wish it didn’t compromise her health.

I returned with Ayame to the room Hiiragi and Sir Leonhart were waiting in. They already had tea ready for us. When she saw Sir Leonhart, her body tensed, but she quickly composed herself.

I sat down next to Sir Leonhart, and Ayame sat across from me. Then, Hiiragi took a seat beside her. We snacked on sweets with our tea and engaged in friendly chatter, but even then Ayame was restless. I had wanted to delay jumping into the main topic to let her rest longer, but since she was too curious to settle down, I decided to hurry up and move on.

“I unveiled the raden accessories at a soiree, and they were quite popular.”

“Thank goodness.” Ayame sighed in relief.

When I had commissioned her, she had been awfully worried. Although she adored crafting raden pieces, she hadn’t been confident that they would be appreciated in a foreign country. She had even fretted that I might get odd looks for wearing raden accessories to a party.

“Your work garnered much attention from fashion-minded noble ladies, and I’ve already received many inquiries. I’m certain you’ll be getting busy from now on.”

“Yes!” Ayame nodded energetically.

“Oh, but don’t overdo it, okay? It defeats the purpose if you ruin your health.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Please tell her that more,” Hiiragi said. “She doesn’t listen no matter how many times I warn her.”

“Urgh...”

“Duchess, Ayame has neglected her sleep and meals ever since she met you,” he continued.

It sounded like a roundabout way of saying it was partly my fault, and it made me shift uncomfortably. I laughed dryly and averted my gaze.

According to Ayame, my appearance stoked her creative urges. She had happened to see me one day when I’d visited Lord Julius’s shop, and that encounter had inspired her to create piece after piece with such fervor that it was almost as though she were possessed. Our collaboration had begun after she had presented one of her creations to me.

Ayame’s art was exquisite and breathtakingly beautiful. She used a wide range of motifs—butterflies and the moon, flowers and little birds—but according to her, they were all crafted with me in mind. Many of her works featured a striking usage of blue, so perhaps she’d taken a shine to the color of my eyes.

“It seems I’m not the only one captivated by Rose’s charm. I’m proud but, at the same time, a bit conflicted,” Sir Leonhart said.

My face flushed red from his sappy words. “Leon, stop. It’s embarrassing.”

Hiiragi’s gaze was piercing. “Thank you oh so much for the lovey-dovey display,” he seemed to be saying. His eyes were clearly filled with exasperation. It was very similar to when my father had said, “Do this elsewhere.”

“Th-That was just the preface—let’s move on to the main topic.” I cleared my throat with an exaggerated cough, trying to dispel the lax mood. I knew my chagrin was apparent in my voice, but I didn’t care. I also ignored Hiiragi’s tepid stare. “We discussed the sales model and pricing briefly last time, but are you still of the same mind?”

Hiiragi looked at Ayame. When she nodded at him, he returned his gaze to me. “Duchess, before you left for the capital, we discussed a purely made-to-order model, correct?”

“Yes.”

At present, Ayame was the only person in Prelier who could make raden crafts. Whether she took on apprentices and trained them or recruited other artisans from Osten, it would require years to expand her team. With that in mind, high margins and low sales were preferable over low margins and high sales. I had envisioned a made-to-order sales model by which each piece was one of a kind and sold at a premium price. The downside was that each piece would have a lengthy production period, but fortunately, her work had already been premiered by members of the royal family. Now there were many people willing to wait as long as they needed.

“We would like to proceed in that general direction, but I have an additional proposition,” Hiiragi said.

“And what would that be?” I asked.

“We would like to offer a simple, multichoice order option along with the made-to-order one. What do you think?”

Multichoice order? What does that mean?

Almost simultaneously, as though he’d read my mind, Sir Leonhart asked, “Multichoice order? What is that?”

Hiiragi placed a square wooden box painted with black lacquer on top of the table. He opened it, revealing cuff links of different designs and shapes evenly lined inside. “First, the customer will select the type of accessory they want to order. Then, they can mix and match the metal fittings, base, design, and so on to their liking.”

I nodded. I see... So Hiiragi wants to offer two options: fully custom-made and semi-custom-made. Compared to a fully custom-made order, a semi-custom-made order would reduce the burden on the manufacturer since they don’t need to come up with a design from scratch. In return, the piece would feel less unique, but the customer’s originality can still shine through depending on the combination, and it would lower the price, so there are still merits for the customer.

“I think that’s a good idea, but won’t Ayame become too busy?” It would increase their sales and clientele, but also their workload. We decided on a fully custom-made order model because we have a shortage of artisans, so wouldn’t this new model be putting the cart before the horse?

In response to my concerns, Hiiragi smiled wryly. “As I mentioned earlier, Ayame can’t suppress her love for you, Duchess.”

“Hiiragi!” Ayame tugged on his sleeve in protest, her face bright red.

However, he continued to speak, completely unfazed. “As it stands, Ayame is overflowing with love for you to the point where she’s throwing herself into her craft and forgetting to eat and sleep. As you can see.” Hiiragi pointed at the cuff links. “Yes, a greater workload will burden her mind and body, but crafting pieces in your image is no longer work for her.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes. It’s now a relaxing hobby or, better put, her reason to live. Crafting pieces exactly in accordance with a customer’s request would be more stressful for her.”

“I-I see...?” I said, my tone a mixture of understanding and uncertainty.

Come to think of it, in my past life, an illustrator I was a fan of once said they were taking a break from working on their draft—then proceeded to drop a huge number of illustrations of their favorite character on social media. I wasn’t the artistic type of nerd, so I didn’t quite understand why they would draw even when they were supposed to be relaxing, but maybe it’s something creators understand. I suppose there’s a big difference between making something a customer requests for work and making what you like, even if they’re technically the same activity. Though, when I think about how the “thing she likes” is my appearance, I feel rather embarrassed...

“It would be a waste to stow all of her overflowing love away in a storeroom,” Hiiragi continued. “If we sell them to those who wish to buy, then it’ll be killing two birds with one stone.”

I wanted to tell him, “Don’t turn your childhood friend’s overflowing love into a commodity,” but I didn’t since Ayame didn’t seem upset by the prospect.

“What do you think?” Hiiragi asked.

“Hmm, I think it’s a good idea,” I replied. I have no reason to oppose him if Ayame is on board. I glanced to my side for Sir Leonhart’s opinion.

He carefully scrutinized the cuff links before opening his mouth. “You said you’ve been designing pieces in Rose’s image, but do you mean...all of these?”

“Y-Yes,” Ayame answered quietly. “That goes for everything you see here.”

“And for nearly everything in the other room too,” Hiiragi added.

“In that case, why don’t you give those pieces a name to distinguish them from fully custom-made items?” Sir Leonhart suggested.

“A name?”

“Yes. Many of these pieces have a striking use of blue, but there will be customers who like a different color. I think it would incite those customers to opt for the fully custom-made option if you labeled this series in a way that makes it obvious that the motif is blue.”

“Good point.”

If you name it something like “Blue Series” or “Sky Series,” you can preemptively prevent complaints and those asking for other colors. And if Ayame becomes obsessed with something else, she can give that series a different name. I very much approve of Sir Leonhart’s input. As expected of my husband! He’s great at coming up with angles like this precisely because he’s attentive to the finer details.

“Superb insight, as always. I am thoroughly impressed.” Hiiragi’s eyes narrowed into a smile.

The way his eyes get thin like a fox’s is awfully shady. It makes me suspect that our entire conversation has gone in accordance with his calculations. I reflexively became guarded. Next to me, Sir Leonhart smiled wryly.

“On this subject, I have a request,” Hiiragi said.

“A request?” I repeated suspiciously.

“Ayame created these pieces with the duchess in mind, so if you permit it, I would like to borrow your name.”

“My name...?”

“Yes. I was imagining something like this.” Hiiragi pulled out a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket and flattened it out on top of the table. On it was the side silhouette of a woman’s face and the letters for “Mary.”

It was so on the nose that I felt dizzy before I felt ashamed. It reminded me of a certain Western confectionary company’s logo that I had often seen in special Valentine’s Day pop-up corners. I couldn’t help but run away from the reality of it.

“Th-This...is a bit...”

“Oh? Is it not to your liking?” he asked.

“I find it too direct... And wouldn’t it be better to emphasize ‘blue’ more?”

“Anyone who sees this name and logo and doesn’t think of your eyes... Well, they don’t deserve the privilege of buying Ayame’s creations in the first place.”

Urgh. I’m not sure what to say. I know I’m no match for a silver-tongued merchant, but I can’t give up here. I mean, come on, my name is already all over the hospital. And the sauerkraut that Lord Julius’s merchant company handles is called “Dew of the Sea,” which also stemmed from my name. I can’t handle it if my name gets slapped onto an entire raden series on top of all that. When future historians research Prelier and see my name on everything, they’ll write that there used to be a duchess with a huge ego.

“Let’s consider other ideas,” I said.

“It’s when you give up that the match is over!” encouraged the Coach An*** in my heart. I clenched my hand into a fist. I will struggle until the bitter end.

“Thank you very much for your cooperation.” Hiiragi’s eyes were originally quite thin, but they narrowed even further into an inscrutable smile that was befitting of a merchant.

Please forgive me for instinctively glowering. After all, I fought in vain. In the end, we had settled on “Mary” as the series’s name. I was surely making an ugly face.

Hiiragi’s shady smile disappeared when he saw my glower. He peered at me like he was looking at a strange, never-before-seen creature.

“Duchess, you are quite the oddball,” he said.

“I’m aware that my attitude is unladylike.” Embarrassed by my immature display, I straightened my posture.

However, Hiiragi said, “That isn’t what I meant. Someone as beautiful as you would draw attention simply by breathing. I can’t help but wonder why you loathe standing out to this extent.”

“You exaggerate,” I said.

Hiiragi shook his head. “Not at all.”

Even Ayame was shaking hers too. They were so in sync—I could tell that they really were childhood friends.

“Being that Ayame and I are from another nation, by nature, we should have a different standard for beauty than the people of Nevel do. I experienced this difference in values when we traveled through different countries. Yet somehow, your beauty is so perfect that it transcends even that difference.”

Ayame nodded in emphatic agreement. I was so distracted by her adorable gestures that I couldn’t focus on what he was saying.

“Um... Thank you?” I said halfheartedly, unsure how to respond. I never know what to do when someone compliments me to my face. If it were an obvious social nicety, I could just smile and move on.

“You truly are a humble soul. With a face like yours, you could have any man eating out of the palm of your hand,” Hiiragi said quietly.

He looked at me as if to say, “What a waste,” and I drew back. Unfortunately, I was sitting, and I bumped into the back of the sofa, unable to distance myself.

“Hiiragi,” Sir Leonhart chided. “Please don’t tease my wife too much.” The corners of his mouth were raised in a faint smile that showed elegance and charm. However, at the same time, it had an intensity behind it that left no room for argument.

Hiiragi donned a serious expression once more and lowered his head. “I got carried away because the duchess has such a benevolent heart. I deeply apologize.”

“No, I’m sorry for my immature display,” Sir Leonhart said.

Wait, I’m the one acting immature here! I’m still being influenced by the social values of my previous life, so I’m not acting like a leader. People always misjudge where the line is with me. “Benevolent heart” sounds nice, but I think it means I have no dignity. Sir Leonhart lets me do as I like, but sometimes he teaches me how to draw the line, like right now. My husband is too good for me.

“Well then, let’s return to the topic of the brand. We’ll proceed with the proposal we discussed, correct?” Hiiragi said.

“Yes,” I replied.

Ayame sighed in relief. Then, she beamed at me as though she couldn’t contain her joy. “Lady Rosemary, being able to borrow your name is like a dream.” Her cheeks were dusted pink, and she smiled like an innocent child. It made me feel sorry that I’d been so unwilling. “I will devote myself to my work and create pieces worthy of this brand name!”

Apologizing felt like the wrong thing to do, so I simply said, “Please do. Let’s work hard together.” I’ll also endeavor to be worthy of Ayame’s creations, I vowed internally.

“I plan to make a progress report in two weeks. Would that be acceptable?” Hiiragi asked.

Sir Leonhart immediately opened his notebook. We checked my schedule and then gave Hiiragi a day I was available.

“Does this work for you, Hiiragi?” I asked.

“Yes, I will be available as well, so let’s meet then.”

“Very well, we’ll add it to our schedule.” Sir Leonhart turned to me. “Rose, what about the festival meeting matter?”

“Oh, that’s right! Hiiragi, do you have time next Tuesday afternoon?” I asked.

“I do. How can I be of service?”

“I plan to hold a meeting for the harvest festival, and if possible, I’d like you to participate.”

“A meeting for the harvest festival? You’re holding it yourself?” Hiiragi asked, his voice laced with confusion.

Yeah, I can understand your reaction.

Harvest festivals weren’t unique to Nevel—they were major festivals that occurred in every country, but they were primarily organized by farmers. They were typically small-scale events, with the largest being held at a village level. I had never heard of a feudal lord taking the trouble to supervise one before either.

But if I sat around and did nothing, Prelier’s festivals would go extinct. I’d heard that we used to have fairly lively events in the past, but now they were mere shells of their former glory. Apparently, people didn’t even gather to celebrate anymore, and they would just have a slightly fancier meal with their family. When I’d learned that, I’d thought it was such a shame.

While Prelier didn’t have any special produce that stood out from the rest of the nation, we still grew very delicious fruits and vegetables. It was almost perplexing that our produce wasn’t distributed in the capital. By holding a festival, we could attract all sorts of people who would learn how delicious it was, and that would contribute to revitalizing this region. And if I had the merchants currently residing in Prelier participate in the festival, they would likely form connections with one another without needing to use me as an intermediary.

Hiiragi listened intently as I quickly explained my thought process.

“There are less than two months until this year’s festival, so we’ll have to see how it plays out, but I’d like to gradually increase the scale. I’m hoping to incorporate various attractions and host competitions,” I said.

“What kind of events, for example?”

“Like a cooking or baking contest where you make a dish out of ingredients from your hometown, or something like a vegetable contest? Cooking a meal in a large pot to share with festival-goers might be fun, and I think an alcohol sampling event might be nice too. Another idea would be to have children dress up in costumes and give them sweets as a reward.”

Hiiragi let out a breath of admiration and amazement. “Your ingenuity surprises me every time. Although, I don’t quite understand your last suggestion.”

It’s not ingenuity—it’s a mishmash of memories from my past life, so I feel a little guilty. Also, because of my shallow knowledge, Halloween has been classified as something hard to understand, and I’m very sorry about that.

“Why don’t you adopt your ideas as is? I think you would surely attract a great number of people,” he said.

“The main characters of the festival are the farmers. If they’re dissatisfied, then the purpose of holding it would be lost. Besides, I’m not sure how realistic my ideas are, so I’d like to improve them through discussion.”

Hiiragi’s eyes widened. Then they narrowed once more. It wasn’t that shady smile from before, but a wry one filled with emotion. “Duchess, I see you can also be surprisingly greedy.”

“That’s right.”

I swore I’d amass economic might that won’t be easily undermined. I even carry the ambition of growing Prelier into a big city that won’t be outshone by the capital. But I don’t want to obtain that by cutting other people down. If I hold a successful festival while ignoring the farmers’ opinions, it would all be meaningless. Even if people tell me I’m being too idealistic, I can’t change that part of myself. I don’t want to change.

“I just want everyone to be happy together,” I said.

“Understood.” Hiiragi straightened his posture. “Though I may not be of much assistance, I will do what I can to help.” His dignified expression was a complete one-eighty from the breezy attitude he’d had up until now.

When Ayame saw him like that, a happy smile spread across her face.

The Raden Artisan’s Murmurings

One early morning when I was a child, I came across a fragment of a dream on the beach. It was a warped, silver-colored oval, its edges chipped to reveal white beneath. When I lifted it up, sand spilled out of it, and it reflected the rays of the rising sun in sparkling, prismatic colors.

The object left a big impact on a child’s mind. I couldn’t believe that something so beautiful existed in real life. I genuinely believed that it had slipped out of a dreamworld. I learned at a later time that it was just an ordinary seashell, but to my child self, it was the first treasure I ever found. And even now, it was the most important guiding principle that I lived by.

I had once thought that I could never be someone, but that dream fragment was unquestionably what led me to embark on my journey.

“Ayame. It’s about time to take a break.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll reach a good stopping point soon, so wait a little longer,” I replied, my hands moving all the while.

Hiiragi showed no intention of moving from where he stood beside me. “I’ll take this to mean that you’ll obediently heed what the duchess says, but you won’t listen to the pleas of your concerned childhood friend.”

“Th-That’s not—”

“If you’re going to deny it, then the very least you could do is face the person you’re talking to.”

His tone was scolding—far removed from his usual teasing attitude. It made me reflexively put down my brush and timidly look up, meeting Hiiragi’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“Yes, as you should be.” The stern air surrounding Hiiragi softened. “I’m also in the wrong for trying to interrupt you while you’re working.”

Although he relented, I felt guilty and didn’t know what kind of face to make. This wasn’t the first time I had become so focused that I’d lost sight of my surroundings. It was a bad habit that I’d been admonished for many times since I was young.

I was an incompetent child. I had slow reflexes and a bad memory. Though I was an awful speaker, I was also awful at listening to other people speak. When I found something that interested me, it consumed all my attention, and I broke promises more than a few times because of that.

I kept making this same mistake over and over again, so I didn’t have any friends. The boys in my neighborhood bullied me, and I was hated by my brother and sister, who were much older than me. My parents inevitably neglected me as I failed at everything I tried. They would only lose face if they married me off, so they quickly gave up on that prospect and instead treated me as though I didn’t exist.

That should have been something to lament. However, I was relieved. Even if I fail, I won’t disappoint anyone anymore. If I have no one to talk to, then I won’t make anyone angry. Living alone and dying alone wouldn’t be so bad.

The only person who cared about me was my uncle, a man labeled as the village eccentric. He had left home before coming of age and was making a living as an artisan. When he showed me his creations—raden lacquerware—I trembled with excitement. The bird he’d created, perched on the branch of a camellia tree, glistened with the same rainbow color as the dream fragment I’d picked up on the beach. I eagerly showed my uncle my treasured seashell, and he said, “Good eye,” and patted my head.

After that, I became obsessed with raden craftsmanship. Seashells were already so beautiful in their natural state, but artisans tinkered with them to present them in a myriad of ways. Two butterflies dancing around a blooming cherry blossom bud. The pale moon floating in the night sky. In particular, the plumage of the brown-eared bulbuls in my uncle’s work was so soft that it was practically palpable.

I want to make them too, I yearned. I don’t want to own raden pieces—I want to make such beautiful things with my own hands.

I lowered my head and asked my uncle to make me his apprentice—he said yes without hesitation. I was taken aback by how flippant his tone was. In the Kingdom of Osten, female artisans were virtually nonexistent. If my uncle weren’t such an eccentric man, I would’ve been rejected without a second thought.

My uncle spared no effort and thoroughly hammered his techniques into me. As an artisan, he was strict, but I never wanted to quit. Only once did I ever whine to him. Thanks to his teachings, I definitively improved, and yet no matter how much I tried, I could never craft a bulbul the way he did. Even though it was the same pretty form, my work always felt lifeless in comparison.

I vented my frustrations to him, tears welling up in my eyes. He gave me a troubled smile in response and simply said, “You just haven’t found it yet.” Just as there were painters who only drew profile portraits of women or sculptors who only sculpted horses, artists had subjects that captivated them.

“Ayame, I’m sure you’ll find yours one day,” he said.

My uncle passed away when I was seventeen. In his final moments, though he had become so weak that he couldn’t even get up on his own, he managed to whisper, “The bulbul came for me,” and drew his last breath with a happy smile. My aunt had passed away at a young age, and he’d loved her from the bottom of his heart, so I knew he was glad to leave this life.

With my uncle gone, I became lost. I was a woman, so it was difficult to make a living as an artisan. At the very least, it was impossible in Osten. On the other hand, there was no guarantee I would do any better in a different country, and I wasn’t confident I could succeed alone when I was ignorant of the ways of the world. When I was brooding over what to do, Hiiragi was the one to encourage me.

Hiiragi’s father was a merchant who adored my uncle’s work and frequently visited our workshop. Being the second son, Hiiragi followed his father to the workshop to learn the trade, but every time they visited, he was forced to look after me. “Children should play together,” the adults said.

My impression of Hiiragi in the beginning was that he was a scary person whose thoughts were unreadable, but once I got used to him, I realized that he was just a kind older boy. He took very good care of me in many regards, perhaps because I had no life skills on top of being shy and a poor speaker, and he just couldn’t leave me alone.

Hiiragi believed in my talent as an artisan when I didn’t. I was able to make up my mind to leave Osten thanks to him.

If not for my uncle and Hiiragi, I would not be who I am today. To ignore my benefactor and precious childhood friend would be unforgivable. And even if he would forgive me, I don’t want to take advantage of that.

I shook my head to clear away the memories and then bowed to Hiiragi. “No, you did nothing wrong. You’re worried about my health. I’m sorry for being rude.”

“It’s fine.” Hiiragi exhaled and smiled wryly. “The duchess hadn’t come to see you in a while. Her visit must’ve fired up your creative urges.”

“Yes...” I said quietly, shrinking in embarrassment. I couldn’t hide anything from him. “How did you know?”

“Of course I’d know. How long do you think we’ve known each other for?” he said, exasperated. “The duchess is your bulbul, after all.”

I fell silent, unable to say anything in return. I owed my current self to my uncle and Hiiragi, and there was no doubt about that. However, the influence of one other person was vital to my life as an artisan.

When I first traversed the continent, I was fascinated by all the unusual sights. Unfamiliar buildings, unfamiliar clothes, and people with different hair, eyes, and skin color than mine. I’ll find a charming subject in no time at all, I figured. But I soon realized I was wrong. They were only unusual in the beginning—an unfamiliar sight would become ordinary when viewed every day.

What I wished for wasn’t temporary interest. I wanted something that I would never get bored of, even if I gazed at it for the rest of my life—something that would captivate my heart. What I desired wasn’t so easily found. I went from city to city and at times crossed borders to continue my journey, but I didn’t find that something that shook my soul.

Discouraged but unable to give up, I came here to Prelier, a city rumored to be gorgeous. It was a place that was also flourishing with trade, so Hiiragi was eager to see it as well. I was strolling around the business district thinking about how it might be nice to stay here for an extended period when my feet stopped in front of a shop with a chic exterior.

Though I wasn’t looking to buy anything in particular, the shop had a pleasant ambience, so I wanted to poke around a little. I peered through the window.

After that, I had little recollection of what happened. All I remembered was that I had seen something exceptionally beautiful. It was brighter than the sky on a clear day, clearer than a spring hidden deep in a forest, a striking blue. Azure. Ultramarine.

Those blue eyes were the only things burned into my mind.

After that day, I crafted raden pieces like I was possessed by something. Morning glories, gentians, cornflowers. Early summer birds, butterflies from southern lands, the winter crescent moon. I used all sorts of mediums, searching for a way to express those eyes—that heavenly blue.

It was hard to believe that I had spent many a day anxious that I’d never encounter the something that would ensnare my interest. Now I worked on my craft nonstop, reluctant to even sleep. I was also fortunate enough to be employed by Lady Rosemary, and even though I was allowed the privilege of meeting her in an official capacity, I never got used to seeing that blue, nor did I tire of it. In fact, it was the opposite—every time I saw her, she showed me a different radiance, and my body couldn’t keep up with my creative urges.

The expressions she showed children or merely imagining what she had looked like ten years ago—these imaginings made me unable to contain myself.

“Please craft to your heart’s content until you’re satisfied. Leave the accounting, scheduling, and other miscellaneous tasks to me. All you need to do is focus on creating beautiful pieces. That’s what I’m here for,” Hiiragi said.

“Hiiragi...” My voice trembled with emotion.

He pointed at me. “However, I will not tolerate you neglecting your meals and sleep.”

“Yes.”

“The next time you miss a meal, I’ll tell on you to the duchess.”

“Urgh... Okay.”

“You’re not allowed to stay up all night either. If you go to bed past midnight, then—”

Mortified that he was talking to me like I was a little kid, I cut him off. “I-I get it already!”

I had a feeling that I would spend the rest of my life indebted to Hiiragi.

The Reincarnated Duchess Fosters Friendship

Last week, a meeting concerning the harvest festival had been held. I’d explained my long-term outlook in broad strokes, and the merchants had taken a strong interest. However, the reaction of the farmers, the crux of a harvest festival, had been lackluster.

That had been within my expectations. Dramatically changing a yearly event and tradition wasn’t so easy. Furthermore, though I was the feudal lord, I was a newcomer to the people living in this land. It was normal that they would be displeased if an outsider swooped in and changed their customs. In my past life, I had seen news about conflicts arising between immigrants and locals about village revitalization efforts.

Fortunately, based on the farmers’ expressions, they seemed more confused than opposed. There was also a possibility that my presentation hadn’t been comprehensive enough in conveying my ideas. I should stay calm and start by getting to know them better. Thinking that, I decided to finish my routine tasks ahead of time and visit the farmers in the neighborhood.

Though Prelier could be painted in general terms, each area had its own characteristics. The medical facility and business district at the center of the city were full of lively hustle and bustle, but the scenery transformed with a short, one-hour carriage ride. I saw sprawling wheat fields, cows grazing on gently sloping hills, and nearby farmers working and cheerfully chatting beneath large trees.

I hadn’t grown up around such a serene landscape, but it felt nostalgic somehow. Oddly enough, it felt like I had entered one of Jean-François Millet’s paintings.

“The air is so nice and fresh,” I said. I alighted from the carriage with Sir Leonhart’s help and breathed in the smell of soil and grass as I stretched.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

“I’m fine. In fact, I feel invigorated.” During the period when I had been experiencing terrible morning sickness symptoms, traveling even short distances had been strenuous, but I was completely fine now. Sir Leonhart had taken such excellent care of me inside the carriage that I didn’t feel ill at all.

“Watch your step,” he said, offering me his arm.

“Thank you.” I wrapped my hand around his arm, and off we went.

Once you left the regularly maintained thoroughfares in the city, the paths became dirt trails formed purely by people frequently tamping down the earth as they walked on them. As areas of Prelier became more developed, the main roads in their direct vicinities had been paved with stone, but the narrow farm footpaths hadn’t been touched yet.

Cobblestone streets were sturdy, but in return, they cost money and time to repair. If they were ever damaged by a natural disaster or when they degraded over time, a mason would need to be dispatched. I figured that dirt paths were more optimal for rural areas since the villagers could handle the repairs themselves. However, if many residents near a road requested it, I would consider paving it. I wholeheartedly wanted to preserve this idyllic scenery, but the residents’ convenience was more important than my sentimental attachment.

While I was gazing at the scenery, lost in such thoughts, boisterous voices approached us. Children pushed their way through the tall grass and came onto the road. My eyes met with the boy—around five years old—at the front of the pack, and his large eyes grew even larger.

He blinked a few times and then mumbled, “A princess?”

“Huh? A princess?!”

“You’re right!”

Children around the boy’s age poured out from behind him. There were five healthy, sun-kissed boys and girls in total. They looked to be between five and eight years old.

“You’re wrong. Mama told me that she’s a feudal lord,” a precocious little girl said.

“‘Foo-dal lord’? She’s not a princess?”

“What’s a ‘foo-dough lord’?”

Watching the other children try to copy the little girl and garble the words was cuteness overload, and I broke into a smile.

“Hello. I’m Rosemary, a feudal lord.”

“See, I told you! She’s a feudal lord!” the girl said, puffing up with pride.

The other children gazed at her with admiration. “Wow, amazing!” they cried. It was such a precious sight that I almost writhed in pain.

Ah... So cuuute. I pressed my palm against my throbbing chest. Then, the adults working the fields noticed us. When they saw me and Leonhart, their eyes also widened.

“Duchess?!”

“Why is the duchess all the way out here?”

The children glanced at the panicked adults and buzzed with excitement.

“‘Duck-ess’?”

“They called her a ‘duck-ess.’”

They were like chirping chicks, and I was absolutely smitten. If that’s what you children call me, then from today forward I am a “foo-dough lord” and a “duck-ess.”

“Rose, your face,” Sir Leonhart pointed out in a hushed voice.

I’d been knocked out by how adorable the children were, and a sloppy grin had spread across my face before I knew it. I gasped and snapped back to my senses. When I frantically reined in my expression, his throat made a funny sound.

That was close. Very close. Luckily, the adults don’t seem to have noticed. I was this close to losing my dignity as their feudal lord.

“Please wait one moment. I’ll go call the village mayor,” said a middle-aged man as he wiped mud off his cheek. He was about to hurry off in the alleged direction of the mayor’s house, but I stopped him.

“No, that’s quite all right. I’m merely here to observe a little, and I’ll be leaving shortly. Everyone, please continue what you were doing,” I said.

“Huh? You don’t have any business with us?”

“Not at all. This isn’t a formal inspection. I notified the mayor in advance, but I’m partially here for personal reasons.”

“I see...”

The adults cocked their heads with bewildered expressions, but they returned to farming.

Now then, I think I’ll walk around their village. I was about to march in, but a small hand stopped me. Five pairs of expectant eyes twinkled up at me.

“Foo-dough lord, want to play?”

“Big sis, will you play with us?”

“I’ll make you a flower crown!”

“Hrgh...” Oh, what a charming invitation. I haven’t accomplished my main goal of observing the farmwork and listening to the villagers’ stories yet, but wouldn’t playing with the children and deepening our friendship also be important? Conflicted, I tried to convince myself with such excuses.

A woman who had been working under the tree stood up, unable to overlook my predicament. “Hey now! You lot! There’s a baby in the duchess’s belly, so don’t bother her!” she yelled.

“Awww, you can’t play?”

“You caaan’t?”

Watching the children wither despondently made my chest ache, and I couldn’t bear the sight. “Well, if it’s only for a little bit...”

Before I could capitulate to their dejected faces, a different voice interjected gently. “Am I not good enough?” Sir Leonhart knelt to meet the children’s eye level.

“You’ll play with us?”

“Mm-hmm, if you’re satisfied with me, I’d love to.” Sir Leonhart smiled softly as he patted their heads with his large hands. His amicable smile dispelled the children’s wariness, and they quickly peeled themselves away from me to surround my husband.

The soft expression Sir Leonhart shows children has a different charm from the sweet smile he gives me. I wonder if he’ll smile at our child like that too. Imagining the nearby future filled my heart with bliss.

“Rose, why don’t you rest for a while?” he suggested.

“Duchess, if you’d like, you can rest over here.”

“Please take it easy!”

The women working beneath the shade of a tree called out to me. They were sitting on a large cloth and moved closer together to make room for me to sit with them.

“Oh, but won’t your dress get dirty?”

“How about you use this?”

One after another, they handed me things like a cushion and a shawl.

“Thank you,” I said and joined their circle without hesitation. “I’m sorry for interrupting your work.”

“Please, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not a problem at all! I was busier moving my mouth than my hands.”

“You can say that again,” a woman agreed jokingly.

Both of them laughed merrily. However, contrary to their words, their hands never stopped moving. Sorting vegetables, wiping them with cloth—they were doing a variety of tasks with practiced ease. The woman who looked to be in her sixties was especially impressive. Her dexterous fingers wove a rattan basket with jaw-dropping speed.

Her calm cadence and tender smile clash with her working speed. My brain’s bugging out just watching her.

“Amazing...” I accidentally blurted out loud.

The young woman sitting next to me gave a big nod in agreement. “I understand how you feel. It’s shocking how fast Gerda can weave. I tried to copy her, but I just can’t do it.”

“It’ll come to you easy once you get used to it,” Gerda said like it was no big deal. “I’ll teach you everything before you get married.”

“I’d love that, but I don’t have anyone to marry...”

“Tell me about it. When will my daughter become a bride?”

“Sh-Shut up, mom! I can find a lover or two if I feel like it.”

“Just one is enough, so hurry up and find him.”

It was a fast-paced conversation, and their cheerful voices were pleasant to the ear. My mood and face muscles naturally softened.

“Well, in the first place, there aren’t many occasions where I can meet someone.”

“We used to have more events where people gathered, but we don’t really do that much these days.”

“When we were young, festivals were a place for encounters,” Gerda said.

The young woman leaned forward curiously. “Aren’t festivals just days when you get to eat meat for dinner?”

“They used to be large-scale affairs back in the day. People would bring food and a strong drink to the square and make a big hoopla all day. The young’uns would dance to music and sing. It was the perfect opportunity to invite out the person you were interested in, so many found their spouses there.”

“In my time, the scale wasn’t so large, but we still held festivals. Your father asked me to dance with him, and that’s how we got close.”

“Mom, you can dance?!”

“How rude. I taught you how to sing and dance when you were little. Don’t you remember this tune?” The mother began to hum a jaunty melody. Everyone’s body swayed in rhythm with the jovial song.

This song must be well-known to the people in this area.

“It was a festival song.”

“To be more precise, it was a song of gratitude offered to the fertility goddess.”

My ears pricked up. Since I wanted to liven up the harvest festival, their conversation was giving me information I couldn’t afford to miss.

Most people in this world are polytheistic, and Nevel is no exception. There aren’t eight million deities like in Shinto, but they still have their fair share of deities. They have more than the big hitters like deities of the sun or underworld—they also have a great variety of minor deities that preside over more mundane, close-to-home things like textiles and the hearth.

Among those, the fertility goddess is fairly famous. The majority of people involved in agriculture worship her, and she’s the object of prayers during harvest festivals and planting festivals.

“I think everyone above forty or fifty can sing and dance it. I haven’t touched an instrument in a long time, so I might’ve forgotten how to play it.”

“How nostalgic. There was an older girl in my neighborhood who was an excellent singer. I was awfully jealous when she received so many flowers that she couldn’t hold them all in her hands! So I practiced singing like my life depended on it.”

“Is there a custom of giving people flowers during the festival?” I asked.

The mothers in the group all nodded.

“Yes! At least, there was in the past. A man would give flowers to the woman they carried a torch for, and if she accepted them, the pair would join the ring of dancers.”

“I kept a straight face when I accepted them, but I was jumping for joy on the inside. The next day, all the girls gathered at the house of someone who owned books, and we jabbered away as we looked up the flowers’ meanings.”

The women’s eyes narrowed as they reminisced fondly.

The young woman who had been listening to them speak with keen interest sighed, her cheeks tinged faint pink. “How nice. I’d like to have such a wonderful experience too.”

“E-Excuse me!” I suddenly spoke up loudly.

The young woman’s eyes went round. The others also turned their attention to me, curious about what I had to say.

“Why don’t we have a festival?” I broached the topic in a way that would’ve made my father heave a heavy sigh. I could easily imagine him lamenting, “You’re a terrible negotiator, as always.”

“A festival? Do you mean a harvest festival?”

“We do intend to butcher one of our cattle and share it with each household, as we usually do, but that isn’t what you’re talking about, is it?”

I nodded frantically, and Gerda peered at me with kind eyes. She had been the one to guide their mundane conversation in the direction of the festival. I had a feeling she’d heard from the mayor my goal for visiting them today. I have to make the most of her assist! I won’t miss this chance.

“I want to revive the festivals like the one you were all just discussing. A lively festival, bursting with energy, where not only locals come but faraway guests visit to sightsee as well.”

“Erm...”

“It’s so sudden. What would we do?”

“All we can do is grow vegetables.”

Despite my optimistic attitude, the women’s responses were lackluster, as expected. They wore the same confused expressions as the farmers who had attended the harvest festival meeting. What was clear was that they weren’t hostile toward me, just uneasy.

The farmers in Prelier raised crops for local consumption, and many were barely scraping by. Thanks to the favorable climate and rich soil, there was little worry of starvation as long as you didn’t live extravagantly.

I can understand why they wouldn’t want to make a risky decision when they’re content with the status quo. However, I’ll shoulder all the risk, so won’t you all work hard together with me?

“Being able to grow vegetables is a wonderful thing!” I said loudly and firmly.

The women looked taken aback.

“I was surprised by how delicious the vegetables and fruit in Prelier are. They’re tastier and have a much nicer sheen than the ones you can buy in the capital.”

“R-Really?”

“The tomatoes have a mild earthy smell and are easy to eat. The pumpkins are soft and fluffy, and they’re delicious whether you mix them into pies or cookies.”

“My, I’m thrilled to hear that.” A woman who happened to be polishing a pumpkin broke out into a bright smile.

“Pumpkin cookies? That sounds interesting. I think the children would enjoy those.”

“Putting it in soup all the time gets stale, after all.”

“We’ve been kneading it into bread dough lately.”

“What? You have my attention.”

Now that the topic had turned to cooking, I pushed onward. “I’m thinking about holding a cooking contest where contestants bring a dish they made from produce grown in their hometown. Or we could cook something in a big pot and distribute it to festivalgoers.”

“A contest? Would our rustic dishes really be all right?”

I nodded emphatically. “Yes. In fact, I think local dishes would be very welcome.”

The women began to talk about their best dishes. They chattered about whose pie was tastiest or how they wouldn’t lose when it came to fish dishes—they seemed more optimistic about the notion.

“I’d like it if those who remember the songs and dances could teach those who don’t know them, so we can reproduce the entertainment as faithfully as possible. I want the traditions to persist.” Everyone’s attention was on me. The confusion had disappeared from their eyes, and I could feel their alacrity on my skin. “I love this land. I love the food, the air, and the peaceful nature of its residents. I’m sure it must sound empty coming from a newcomer like me, but I want more people to learn about what a wonderful place Prelier is. Reviving the harvest festival is one method I’m considering.”

I gulped audibly. I was so nervous that my palms were slick with sweat.

“The main stars of the harvest festival are all the people in agriculture. If you think a festival is unnecessary, then there’s no point in holding one...but if you’d like to give it a try, if you want to have one, then I’ll do everything I can as your feudal lord to help. I will support you with all my power.”

A bird warbled nearby. A black kite deftly circled the blue sky. Silence lingered for seconds.

“Um...” A reserved voice broke the tranquil stillness. “I’d like to give it a try.”

The young woman had been the one to speak up. “I’d like to try having a festival,” she repeated as she stared at her mother sitting beside her. This time, her voice was firmer, and I could feel a strong determination radiating from her.

“Zaara.”

“I think Heino and Effa from our neighborhood would agree too. Big Sis Ulla from next door just returned from the capital, and she said she wants to let down her hair. Making preparations will be fun if we all do it together.” The young girl, Zaara, looked at the others with twinkling eyes. Her words weren’t out of deference or consideration for me as the feudal lord—I could tell that much at a glance.

“True... There are more young’uns now, and we aren’t lacking in manpower.”

“My daughter will be returning with her husband soon, and I reckon she’ll be eager to participate.”

The mothers who had been exchanging hesitant glances were now also becoming more optimistic.

“Gerda, did your grandchild decide to work here?”

“Yes.” Gerda’s hands stopped weaving, and her eyes narrowed into thin, mirthful crescents. “He said if there are jobs here, then he’ll stay in the village. He’s also worried about me and his parents, and his friends are here too.”

For the past few decades, Prelier’s population had been slowly declining. The main reason was the lack of employment opportunities. It wasn’t a region known for any particular industry, and it had shown no sign of developing, so the young had gone to the capital for work.

They had to live apart from their families because of this, but fortunately, Prelier was close to the capital. It wasn’t close enough to commute from, but it was a manageable distance to travel on short notice in the case of an emergency at home. Hence, every year more and more of the young folk had been choosing to get jobs in the capital.

However, recently, the outflow of the population had stopped. I believed it was because the construction of the medical facility and the revitalization of the business district had created more job opportunities. Although the rural areas weren’t experiencing the same population spike as the city center, people were still moving in. No, it would be more accurate to say that people were returning, not moving.

I could truly feel the impact of that effect from listening to these women chat. And it brought about a joy that I would never have experienced from simply reading numbers on a document.

“Duchess,” Gerda said.

“Yes?” I replied, snapping out of absentmindedly gazing at the women.

She stared at me intently with her gentle eyes and then bowed. “Thank you very much.”

“Huh?” Surprised by the sudden show of gratitude, my eyes widened. Thinking back on the conversation, I didn’t say anything that should receive any thanks. I sat there baffled, unable to grasp her intentions.

Gerda’s eyes narrowed happily. “Our village doesn’t have anything, but I like it here. Perhaps it’s because I know nothing of the world outside our village, but I’ve never thought about leaving, not once... But, that isn’t to say I don’t understand why the young’uns have been leaving.” She smiled sadly. “There’s nothing in this village, after all.”

She hung her head and continued. “I told myself, ‘Such is life,’ but I was still lonely and doleful. The young’uns steadily disappeared, and it became so quiet, like a flame had been put out... I thought, ‘Ah, just as I will grow old and die, so, too, will this village disappear.’”

I couldn’t bear seeing such a sorrowful expression on Gerda’s face, and I frantically searched for something to say. However, before my useless brain could find tactful words to offer, she raised her face. In just a few seconds, her expression had completely transformed.

“But ever since you became our feudal lord, this land has changed. You constructed the medical facility and revitalized the marketplace, and now things are as they were before... No, it’s far livelier than in the past. The children have returned, and our once-quiet village is now full of laughter every day.” Gerda didn’t need to tell me how happy she was, as her smile conveyed everything. “It already felt like I was dreaming, and now our feudal lord is concerned about our festival? I’m prepared to die when the time comes, but now I find myself thinking that I can’t kick the bucket just yet.”

“Gerda...” I murmured.

“Gerda! Pleaze lib a long time!” Zaara said over me. She was half crying—no, she was full-on bawling. She leaped over the baskets and vegetables and dove into Gerda’s arms.

Surprised, Gerda patted Zaara’s head to pacify her. “Dear oh dear,” she said.

The tip of Zaara’s nose and the area around her eyes were red. She sniffled as she wiped her tears. “I’m going to work hard to prepare for the festival, and there I’ll find a wonderful husband. You have to see me when I walk down the aisle, and when I have a child of my own, I’ll let you hold them before I let my mom!”

Zaara’s mother, who had been watching her daughter from behind, quipped, “Now hold on a second, oh daughter of mine!” but she was ignored.

“So you have to live a long time, and please teach my children how to weave baskets!” Zaara exclaimed.

“That’s a heavy responsibility,” Gerda said with a happy smile.

The other women who had been watching them all smiled warmly as well.

“It looks like we’re all set on having that festival.”

“If anyone says they don’t want to have one, then they’ll have to face Zaara’s wrath instead of our feudal lord’s,” a woman teased.

“That’s right! I’ll turn this festival into a big hit no matter what and find my ideal husband!” Zaara shot back immediately.

It seems that I’ve gained a powerful ally by accident.

“Your ideal husband? Don’t you think you’re aiming too high?” Zaara’s mother—who had abruptly lost the privilege of holding her grandchild first—interrupted sulkily.

“I’m free to aim as high as I please.”

“Well, I’m worried that you’re aiming too high. You know, just the other day she was prattling about how a prince riding on a white horse would be nice.”

“Th-That was ages ago! I’m already an adult, so I won’t ask for anything that unrealistic!”

Another woman interrupted the mother-daughter banter. “Zaara, what’s your ideal man like?”

Zaara’s gaze roved the air above her as she tried to find the right words. “Weeell, first off, he absolutely must be kind. He has to treasure me more than anyone else and treat me like a princess. He also has to be able to work, and it’s crucial that he has money to spare. Oh, and it’s important that he’s dependable. He needs to be strong and reliable when push comes to shove.”

Her mother placed her hand on her forehead and slumped to the side to express her exasperation, but Zaara didn’t notice.

“And it’s even better if he likes children. I’d be happy if he would take the initiative to look after our children and shower them with love without me needing to tell him. Of course, I’d hate it if his love for me changed, so I think someone older with a lot of patience would be good for me.”

“Mm-hmm,” the other women replied. Their warm gazes had cooled to an unimpressed lukewarm.

However, Zaara didn’t seem to notice that either as she continued gleefully listing more traits. “Also...I have to think he’s handsome. A man who’s both gallant and refreshing, oh, I’d have nothing more to— Ow?!”

Before Zaara could finish speaking, there was a loud smack. She glared defiantly at her mother. “What was that for?!”

“No such man exists!!!”

“You don’t know that! He might!”

“He doesn’t!”

“He does!”

As I watched the pair quibble, the scene of Mei-chan yelling, “To**ro was here!” flashed through my mind. Nah, the ideal hottie has a higher chance of existing than a fairy.

“A man like that only exists in fairy tales or in your wild fantasies! Good grief, and seconds ago you claimed you’d stopped fantasizing about unrealistic ideals.”

Zaara groaned, rendered speechless. Unable to rebut, she looked around her until her imploring gaze fell on me. “Your Grace!”

“Yes?!”

“Do you also think that a man like that doesn’t exist?”

“Um...” I hummed evasively, unable to give her a firm yes or no.

I’m also quite the dreamer when it comes to romance, so I want to agree with her, but it involves her marriage life, so I shouldn’t be irresponsible. My gaze roamed the area, seeking help, until I spotted Sir Leonhart playing with the children a short distance away. They clung to both his arms, and he lifted them into the air. The other children surrounding him looked like they were having the time of their lives as well—it seemed that he had thoroughly won all their hearts.

Feeling my intense stare, Sir Leonhart blinked. Then he bashfully smiled and waved at me. My husband is as precious as always... Mesmerized, I waved back on reflex.

“There...” someone murmured.

I snapped out of my daze and hastily turned back toward Zaara. She, along with all the other women, was fixated on Sir Leonhart.

“Yeah, right there.”

“It was there all along.”

There? What’s there? To**ro?

“But it’s the same as not being there at all.”

“Right you are. It’s like that ironclad rule in fairy tales—every prince has his princess.”

“Zaara, either face reality or improve your womanly charms. Pick one.”

“Okaaay...”

It looks like the conversation ended while I was floundering for a reply. What was there in the end? I tilted my head to the side, puzzled, but my question was never answered.

The Lovesick Lord Commander

We were on our way home from the farm village. Rose told me all the things she’d heard from the villagers, and partway through, the conversation shifted to the topic of the festival. I singled out the detail that caught my attention.

“I see. So they give flowers at the festival?”

“Yes, a man will give flowers to the woman who holds his affections, and then he’ll confess.”

That seems like a custom that women would like was my first unromantic impression. My next thought was, That seems like a high hurdle for young men. Not all men are able to honestly profess their affections for the woman they love. Especially not young men in their late teens—the large majority of them would buckle under their shame and shyness. And gifting flowers? I feel like that raises the difficulty by leagues.

“That’s quite a harsh ordeal for young men,” I said, voicing my honest thoughts aloud.

Rose’s eyes became wide saucers. “Goodness, Leon, you just don’t get it. This custom isn’t just for young women in love! It’s also the perfect opportunity for shy men.”

I contemplated for a moment, but I couldn’t think of a reason it would be the perfect opportunity. “How so?” I asked, frowning slightly.

She gave me a small smile. “Because, on any other day, he would first need to get the girl he likes alone, right? If they coincidentally ended up alone, then that would be fine, but in general he’d initiate by writing a letter or having a friend help. If all went well and he got her alone, next he’d have to convey his feelings in his own words.”

She was reciting the requisite steps for a standard love confession. It was a tried-and-true method familiar to all, but hearing everything listed out like that made me see how arduous it was.

“But only on a special day, on a festival day, can he convey his feelings simply by giving her flowers. She’ll understand, even if he doesn’t explicitly say, ‘I love you.’”

It felt like the scales had fallen from my eyes. “That makes sense,” I murmured.

I’d thought that for an awkward man the act of buying flowers itself would be strenuous. Simply holding flowers would be the same as saying, “I’m going to confess to the person I love now.” It would be like walking around with a piece of paper stuck on your back. I’d assumed it would surely be unbearable.

However, such an obvious display of affection has benefits too. He can convey to the other person that he loves her without practicing his handwriting, or penning an uncharacteristic love poem, or forcing himself to put the complicated feelings of his heart into words. This is a very...

“It’s a wonderful custom, isn’t it?” Rose smiled gently.

The sun shone through the window and illuminated her hair and silhouette, blurring the boundary between her and the light. Her blue eyes, abounding with love, glistened like a calm lake surface. It was such a breathtaking sight that I was struck speechless.

“Leon? Is something the matter?” Rose asked.

I snapped back to my senses. It had felt like a split second to me, but apparently, I’d frozen for quite some time. Her stare made my heart pound loudly. “N-No, it’s nothing...”

Even I found my attitude too suspicious for it to be nothing. My flushed cheeks and hoarse voice clearly indicated that I was shaken. How embarrassing, I’m not an adolescent boy. She’s my wife. We’ll be having a child next year, so why am I acting like this now? Though I mentally berated myself, my pulse wouldn’t slow down. I covered my mouth with one hand, trying to hide the uncontrollable red spreading across my face.

“Are you motion sick? Or if it’s too hot in here, I can close the curtains.” Trying to be considerate of my strange behavior, Rose made wrong guess after wrong guess. Seeing her flustered calmed my inner turbulence somewhat.

“I’m fine. I was just thinking about something.”

“That’s good, then...but don’t overdo it, okay?”

Her worried gaze made me feel guilty but also happy. I was delighted that she was concerned about me. My wife loved me as much now as she had before we’d married—no, her love for me ran even deeper than before. Despite that, being the boorish man that I was, I couldn’t find the right words that would convey my affection for her, no matter how much I racked my brains.

“That’s it.” I mumbled aloud to myself without thinking.

“Hmm? Did you say something?” Rose tilted her head to the side.

I shook my head and smiled. “No.” That’s it: flowers. I’ll give her flowers. My love for Rose grows by the day, and to convey my affections, I want to give her flowers too. Although I’d decided to use the festival custom as a pretext to give her flowers, I had no intention of simply handing her a few freshly picked blooms.

Flowers wither, obviously. Since it’s a special occasion, I want to give her something that will last for longer than a day in her hands. With that in mind, the first thing I thought of was an accessory. Necklaces, bracelets, rings, or earrings—there were numerous varieties that women liked, but unfortunately, Rose didn’t have much interest in any of them. She admired them as beautiful works of art, but the story was different when it came to wearing them herself. Although she had the appearance of a sheltered young noble lady, Rose was constantly on her feet. “I’d hate it if I lost them,” she had once said. She only wore accessories to social gatherings like soirees or tea parties.

The only accessories she’d shown interest in—the only exceptions to this rule—were the raden pieces she was backing. I had no doubt that Rose would be overjoyed to receive something crafted by Miss Ayame. Despite my confidence, there was one thing I was worried about.

There were less than two months left until the harvest festival. In addition to that, Miss Ayame had received more work orders and was extremely busy. It was highly likely that she didn’t have the time to accept my request. I figured she might agree to take the job anyway, considering that the Prelier Duchy was her backer, but I didn’t want to coerce her. Rose hated using her authority for private gain, and as the spouse of such an upright feudal lord, it would be inexcusable if I blemished her reputation.

Also, I just don’t want to do something that would make Rose hate me. However, I couldn’t give up without trying, so I told myself it wouldn’t hurt to ask and decided to talk to Miss Ayame.

I paid a visit to Miss Ayame’s shop on my own. Before I relayed my plan to her, I prefaced it with the notion that it was fine for her to decline. At first, she quivered like a small, cornered animal because she was uncomfortable with men, but her expression gradually brightened as I explained.

Then, when I said I wanted to commission an accessory with a flower motif to give to Rose, Miss Ayame nodded emphatically.

“I’ll do it! It will be my pleasure!” she exclaimed ten times louder than when she’d ushered me into the store. Her gaze usually wandered this way and that, but she was now looking at me straight in the eyes.

Her demeanor had changed so much that I questioned whether a different person had taken over mid-conversation. I was struck speechless.

Hiiragi was nearby, and he was used to this switch. He let out an exasperated sigh. “I saw this coming.”

“I apologize if I came off like I was trying to coerce you both, but I really don’t want you to squeeze me into your schedule if it’s too much,” I said.

“No, no, it’s fine. We don’t think that. I’ve observed you enough to know that you’re a considerate man—excessively so.”

At first, it sounded like he was brownnosing, but his expression betrayed his true feelings. If my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, I felt like I saw a vein faintly bulging on his forehead.

“I’m sorry for the hassle when you’re so busy,” I said apologetically.

Hiiragi’s expression softened ever so slightly. “Don’t be. The onus is on Ayame for making rash promises and me for not being able to stop her.” He looked down and said, in a resigned tone, “Besides, breaks are crucial. I think crafting a piece in the duchess’s image will be a good change of pace for Ayame. It’ll be two birds with one stone.”

“So, it’s okay for me to accept his request, right?” Miss Ayame looked up at Hiiragi, her eyes sparkling.

“As long as you understand that we won’t be postponing the orders that we’ve already accepted.”

She nodded and beamed at him. “I’ll work hard on those too!”

Hiiragi smiled wryly—it was an expression that came naturally for a sarcastic man like him. I felt like I’d caught a glimpse into their close relationship.

“Shall we get right to the details, then?” As I watched over them with a warm smile, Miss Ayame returned her attention to me, her expression eager. She pulled the paper and pen that were lying on the corner of the table toward her. “First, do you have an accessory in mind?”

“Would a hair ornament be possible?” It was the first thing that had come to mind when I’d been contemplating the kind of jewelry Rose could use on a daily basis that wouldn’t get in the way of her work. And, imagining my gift adorning her beautiful hair elated me so.

“Yes, of course. Are you set on a particular design?”

“The motif is roses. I’d like to leave the design and color to you, but since my wife isn’t fond of ostentatious things, my request is that the completed piece be muted.”

“Understood.” Miss Ayame’s eyes narrowed happily. However, her expression quickly changed. She wore a professional gaze as she wrote down the details of my order on the paper, and she began to rapidly mumble to herself. “A darker color would complement Lady Rosemary’s platinum-blonde hair. A black background with blue... No, maybe blue as the main focus would look nicer. Deep blue petals with a bright-green gradation and gold leaf scattered around... No, gold leaf is out of the question. If the colors are too strong, then it’ll have the adverse effect of being obtrusive.”

Am I supposed to say something? I hesitated. It doesn’t seem like she’s addressing me. I feel like she’s forgotten that I exist. But when she rambles like this in front of me, it makes me think I should reply.

“She’s talking to herself, so you can ignore her,” Hiiragi said, as though he’d read my mind. He sounded a little peeved. “When Ayame becomes engrossed in one thing, she loses sight of her surroundings. I always tell her to fix that bad habit of hers, but it’s easier said than done. I apologize for troubling you.”

“I don’t mind.” I returned a wry smile of my own.

“Ayame.” Hiiragi clapped his hands near her ear.

Her shoulders jerked up in tandem with the sharp noise. Eyes round, she scanned her surroundings.

“The design can wait. Send the customer off first,” Hiiragi admonished.

All the blood instantly drained from Miss Ayame’s face. She timidly looked up at me, trembling so hard that I felt bad for her. “I... I-I-I-I’m sor... My deepest apologies!” Her dignified presence ceased to exist, and she returned to the frightened baby rabbit state from when I’d first entered the shop. She faced me and bowed deeply.

“Please, raise your head,” I told her.

Despite my attempts to assure her that I wasn’t upset, her expression remained gloomy. “I know it’s a bad habit, but I just can’t seem to fix it... I’m so pathetic.”

“True, forgetting about the customer you’re taking care of isn’t particularly laudable.”

“Yes...”

“But you have an outstanding aide, so I’m sure he’ll manage.”

Miss Ayame blinked at me a few times, registering my smile. She looked back and forth between me and Hiiragi. Meanwhile, I couldn’t tell if Hiiragi was embarrassed or exasperated—his expression was difficult to read. He scowled at me as though to chide me for saying too much.

“If your business is done here, I’ll walk you to the door. Please watch your step,” he said.

I very well knew that he was telling me to go home. It would be unwise to incense Hiiragi any further. I should withdraw promptly. I stood up from my seat. Right before I was about to step out the door, I remembered an additional thing I’d wanted to say and turned around. “If anything happens, please contact me personally,” I said shyly, my cadence quickening a bit. “I want to keep this present a secret from my wife.”

Miss Ayame responded with an amenable “Understood,” but Hiiragi’s lips curled up into a mischievous grin, perhaps as revenge for earlier.

Laugh at me for being childish all you want. Go ahead. I think I’m childish too.

A Certain Merchant’s Surprise

One afternoon, I, Julius zu Eigel, was in my shop’s meeting room listening to a beautiful melody. A young man’s long fingers deftly plucked away at the strings. The lute produced a light and airy sound that filled the room. The jovial tune suited a festival, and the delicate, elegant undertones were a product of the player’s skills.

After the short performance ended, the room immediately burst into applause. I clapped along as well, but my approbation wasn’t out of politeness or empty flattery—it was sincere.

“Hiiragi, that was amazing! Simply perfect!” Lady Rosemary exclaimed. The faint red dusting her cheeks told of her elation.

“You have a gift. I’m impressed. It’s hard to believe you’ve only heard the song once,” Sir Leonhart—Lady Rosemary’s husband—said with admiration.

“Your words are too kind. I’m honored. My ears have always been my only strong point,” replied Mister Hiiragi. Although he was being showered with praise by a duchess and her husband, he didn’t seem flattered and maintained a breezy attitude.

He was a merchant from the Kingdom of Osten currently employed by Lady Rosemary. Although I wasn’t acquainted with him personally, I was aware of his existence. As someone who dealt with Osten goods, I wanted to establish a rapport with him by all means, but Mister Hiiragi was a tough nut to crack.

At a glance, he was an amicable man. His slender build and graceful features gave off the impression that he was unreliable. On top of that, there were more than a few people who looked down on him simply because he was a foreigner. There had been a few scoundrels who’d approached him wearing the guise of kindhearted souls to offer him unfair trades. However, I’d heard that in their negligence, the tables had been turned on them and they’d ended up fooled out of exorbitant sums of money.

He was an exceptionally capable and outstanding individual. That was my perception of Mister Hiiragi. I’d like to connect with him one day, but I shouldn’t approach him imprudently. That was my current line of thought.

“Your ears aren’t the only good thing about you. I didn’t know you could play instruments on top of everything else! And aren’t Osten instruments different? Yet you produced such a beautiful sound. That’s quite a feat!”

“I’m merely glad I can be of use to you.”

Lady Rosemary’s compliments were free of ulterior motives, and for a moment, Hiiragi seemed at a loss about how to respond. His poker face crumbled for a split second, and I caught a glimpse of his discomfort. I know, he was internally agreeing.

When one worked in business for many years, it became a conditioned reflex to ascertain other people’s ulterior motives. Observing someone’s demeanor from every angle to determine whether they were a trustworthy individual—it just became second nature. I was well aware that it was an unsavory habit.

Because of that, I was weak to genuine people. When in front of a good-natured person like Lady Rosemary, I became extremely guilt-ridden. I wanted to capitulate completely without any sort of accusation on their part.

If Mister Hiiragi feels uncomfortable right now, then he likely has similar values to mine. I can rest easy in that case. Given that his reaction to Lady Rosemary’s virtuous nature is “she’s difficult to handle” rather than “she’s easy to deal with,” I know he won’t bring her any harm.

Mister Hiiragi didn’t seem used to receiving such unreserved compliments, because he looked like he couldn’t endure another word, so I shifted the topic away from him. “I’ve laid eyes on an Osten instrument once, and it only had two strings. If memory serves, you don’t pluck it with your fingers—you use a special tool.”

He looked relieved and jumped on my lifeline. “That sounds like a niko. We use a bow, similar to the violin’s, but the way you pull the bow is somewhat unique, so it’s a difficult instrument for beginners.”

“Fascinating. I’d love to hear one one day,” I said, indirectly asking, “If I get my hands on one, will you play it for me?”

However, he replied with an inscrutable smile. He didn’t even offer out of politeness, perhaps because he didn’t want me to take it as a promise. The merchantlike response put a wry smile on my face. I was correct. He’s quite the shrewd one.

“By the way, Duchess, would this suffice for the sheet music?”

“Yes, thank you very much.”

Mister Hiiragi put the lute away and handed Lady Rosemary a score. It was the song that we planned to play for the harvest festival. I believe the title is “Song of Festivity.”

It was a beloved classic festival song among farm villages. Apparently, it was passed from parent to child, but a score had never existed before now. The villagers didn’t look at music when they played it or when they were teaching it. To them, learning by ear was a given.

Hence, depending on who was playing, there were slight variations in key and lyrics. I had thought we were having Mister Hiiragi transcribe it to standardize it. However, that was evidently not the case. Lady Rosemary was fond of the lax nature of the villagers and had no intention of intervening. She’d said she wanted it transcribed purely for documentation purposes.

Lady Rosemary hasn’t elucidated much, but I gather that she wants to preserve their culture for future generations. Not even a historian would pay attention to a tiny village’s festival song.

“Now I’ll be able to learn the song as well,” Lady Rosemary said.

“The song as well? Did you memorize the dance already?” There was a hint of tongue-in-cheek mixed in with Mister Hiiragi’s question.

“I should be able to dance it. I haven’t attempted to yet, but I probably can...” Lady Rosemary was at a loss for words. The energy in her voice lost steam halfway through and faded away at the end.

I always had an inkling, but physical activity isn’t Lady Rosemary’s cup of tea. I’ve seen her trip over nothing before. Furthermore, she’s currently with child. I doubt the people who care for her will permit her to dance. The leader of her overprotective guardians—her husband, Sir Leonhart—will certainly never approve.

Sir Leonhart fixed her with a stern gaze. “Rose. You’re not dancing when I’m not watch—”

She straightened her spine and replied, “I’m not!”

Their exchange resembled a child who was used to being scolded by their parents, and a smile slipped across my face.

“I-I’m telling the truth! I’m not doing anything reckless—I learned the dance just by watching. I can’t dance during the festival this year, but I just wanted to enjoy the ambience with everyone...” Lady Rosemary said when she saw me smiling. Her cheeks flushed, embarrassed. That only made her look like a child spouting excuses, and I found it heartwarming.

“I’m looking forward to the harvest festival,” I said.

She beamed at me and nodded. “Me too!”

At the first meeting, we hadn’t received the farmers’ consent to hold a large-scale harvest festival, but at the second meeting, it had been decided we could go ahead with the idea. I’d heard that Lady Rosemary had traveled to one of the villages and gained the support of the women. There was a group of men who had disapproved, but they’d eventually yielded to their families’ persuasion. I’d heard that the village had become one united front with the youth at the center of the movement to prepare for the festival.

“We don’t have enough time to prepare anything grand this year, but I’d like to gradually expand the scale of the festival every year.”

As Lady Rosemary said, we only had one month left, but things were shaping up quite nicely. Other regions held their own dance parties, but events like a cooking contest and a contest of strength were unique to our festival. We had sampled the food during the second meeting, and the jam, pickles, and wine made by the villagers were scrumptious indeed.

“I’ve also prepared a modest prize... Which reminds me, there’s something I’d like to show you all.” Lady Rosemary remembered something mid-sentence and turned to her maid. The elegant, beautiful woman grasped her master’s intentions and placed a light-colored box on the table. Lady Rosemary removed the lid.

“This is...” I murmured. Inside was a bunch of flowers...shaped into a crown? I’d seen townschildren make crowns out of white clovers, but sitting in front of me was a crown of white roses. They weren’t real flowers either.

“Are these flowers made of fabric?” I asked.

“Yes, it’s a flower crown made with artificial flowers. I made this sample myself, so it’s...a little deformed. I’ve commissioned a craftsperson to make the official one, so once that’s finished, I’ll show you all again.”

As she said, there were a few imperfections that stood out here and there, but it was still plenty beautiful. I often saw people adorn their dresses or hair with small flowers made of fabric, but this was my first time seeing them used for a flower crown.

“This...is superb. It’s not as gorgeous as dresses or jewels, but I think a simple design might be an even better complement. If we match it with trending dresses or... Wait, no, it could work with current fashion.”

“No, I didn’t make this because I want it to trend in high society.”

I was already avidly calculating how to turn this item into a business, but Lady Rosemary lightly shook her head.

“I thought it would be nice if we could use this as a centerpiece for the festival. I intend to present the winner of the cooking competition with this, and I have a few other prototypes in the works for the other events.”

“It’s...for the festival?”

“You see, the villagers have a custom where they confess their love by giving the other person flowers during the harvest festival.”

“I see, that sounds wonderful.”

“I know, right? I asked them why they did that, but no one knew, so I dug up information in books. I read several legends related to the Fertility Goddess, the target of worship of this festival.”

“I see.” Now that she mentions it, there are many myths related to the Fertility Goddess that involve giving flowers. It’s a key item that appears, whether for blessing a pair of lovers, protecting children, or showing gratitude to your family.

Inspired by those tales, Lady Rosemary wanted to spread the impression that the Harvest Festival was a day for giving flowers to your loved ones. “I don’t want it to be limited to real flowers but also flower-shaped goods or flower-shaped sweets. If we sell limited-time items, I think it would invigorate the business district too... What do you think?” She looked at me apprehensively.

It was very like her to be so unconfident even though she had a plethora of ideas. This went for the festival as well, but with her creativity, status, and connections, she could attempt almost anything, and with sure success.

However, she never forced her way. No matter how much talent she had, if it wasn’t within her expertise, she would always ask those around her for their opinions. She was so cautious that it could easily become a flaw or a weak point. However, at the same time, I also thought it was the reason she was so loved.

“I think it’s a great idea,” I said.

“Yes, people are weak to the concept of limited-time items. Don’t worry, they’ll be flying off the shelves,” Mister Hiiragi said in agreement. There was exasperation laced in his voice, but I also heard a hint of pride.

As usual, eccentric people are fond of Lady Rosemary, I thought, ignoring the fact that the pot was calling the kettle black.

The Lord Commander Plots

It was the dead of night, and I quietly opened the door of our bedroom. The light inside was still on. Ever since Rose had learned she was pregnant, she’d begun going to sleep early, so it was unusual for her to be awake this late. She sat on the sofa with her back facing me, still unaware of my presence. I didn’t know what she was doing, but she was deep in concentration.

I was about to call out to her, but I stopped. Instead, I furtively sneaked toward her and peeked over her shoulder. She was embroidering something on a long, thin piece of fabric. It was a sash—similar to what I used to wear diagonally across my shoulder for ceremonies during my time as the captain of the royal guard. It was a blue fabric with a glossy surface, likely silk. She was using silver thread to embroider the outline of a plant. She intended to present it to the victor of the contest of strength at the harvest festival, so the motif was a laurel, the symbol of victory and glory.

Her gaze was fixed on the work in her hands, and her profile was very serious. Although I found my wife lovable for how she always tackled everything without sparing any effort, I was also worried. No one would criticize her if she let up a little bit.

I watched her intently. When she reached a good stopping point, her hands fell away from the sash. She put down her needle, placed her hand over her mouth, and yawned. “Fwaaah...”

The way she exhaled was adorable, but I didn’t let this opportunity escape me. “Rose.”

Her petite shoulders jolted in surprise. “Leon.”

“It’s not good to stay up late.”

She timidly turned around, and I purposefully put on a stern expression. She awkwardly averted her eyes, which were still moist from yawning.

“I had time before bed, so I thought I’d make a little progress. I was so focused that I lost track of time and—”

“Now it’s this late,” I finished for her.

“Yes...” Rose said dejectedly.

It was hard to remain angry at her when she appeared so crestfallen. My expression softened. “Please don’t burn yourself out.”

She breathed out a relieved sigh. “I’ll be careful.” She meekly admonished herself in a way that reminded me of a child being scolded, and it was an endearing sight.

As I watched Rose tidy up her embroidery supplies, I said, “I know it’s important that you finish that in time for the harvest festival, but your health is the most important to me. We’re short on time this year, so wouldn’t a simpler pattern be fine?”

She forced a smile. “It is a simple design. I’m merely slow.”

“I think it’s plenty intricate, though.”

“I can’t simplify it any further. I know my work is shoddy, but at the very least, I’d like to make it neat.”

Originally, the sash and the flower crown for the winner of the cooking contest were both supposed to have been crafted by artisans. The design for the flower crown had already been given to a craftsperson. However, the plan had changed during the third harvest festival meeting.

After examining the sample, someone had suggested that since it was already finished, we could use that one without making a different one—no, they’d insisted that we ought to use it. I’d also agreed that the artificial flower crown Rose had crafted was well-made. However, as she’d said, it wasn’t on par with something made by a professional.

I thought there was a certain charm to it, so I liked it, but I also saw her point—the flaws did stand out upon closer inspection. However, I could also understand the villager’s point that who made it was important. Rose was the principal force behind reviving the harvest festival, and on top of that, a portion of her fanatical followers worshipped her as a goddess. To the villagers who believed in the Fertility Goddess, a prize handmade by Rose was worth more than an item crafted by a first-rate artisan.

This and that happened, and at the end of the meeting, it had been decided that Rose would also make the sash. In all honesty, I hadn’t been amused by the conclusion, as childish as it was to feel that way.

“I haven’t even gotten one myself before,” I muttered.

“Hmm? Did you say something?”

I’d meant that comment for myself, but Rose had caught the last half of it. I shook my head. “No, nothing.” She looked up at me, about to say something, but I swept her up in my arms as though I were trying to prevent her from speaking. “We should go to sleep.”

Rose was bad at embroidery. No matter how much she practiced, she showed little sign of improvement. She rarely showed me her work, let alone gifted me something. I owned nothing with Rose’s embroidery.

I’d be happy even if it weren’t perfect. A small handkerchief would be fine too. I’ve told her that, but Rose won’t make me one. She’s generally soft on me and grants me whatever I wish, but this is the one thing she won’t do. According to her, she doesn’t want me to carry something that would bring me shame.

“My fave carrying around something shabby that I made in his pocket would be out of character!” she’d once asserted nonsensically.

Rose doesn’t understand a man’s heart. Rather than a lavish sash made by artisans employed by the royal family or medals bestowed by His Majesty, I want that “something shabby.”

“Thank you,” Rose said with a smile as I gently placed her down on our bed.

I pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and patted it a few times to comfort her. It was long past the time she normally went to bed, so her eyes were already fluttering closed. She slowly blinked, her eyelids heavy.

“Close your eyes if you’re tired,” I said.

“Leon... What about you?” She peered up at me with a bleary gaze.

“I have one more thing I need to do for work. I’m just checking a few documents, so I’ll be right back.”

“Then—”

“No. I’ll get angry if you get up,” I interrupted before she could insist she’d wait.

Rose wordlessly pouted in defiance, and I poked her puffed-out cheeks. Her brows drooped.

“You’ll go to sleep, yes?” I asked.

“I will.”

“Very good.” I chuckled and caressed her cheek.

She looked like a cat in a good mood with her eyes shut. I moved her bangs aside with my fingers and kissed her forehead.

“Are you having trouble falling asleep?” I asked.

“Mm-hmm...” Rose’s eyelids were completely shut. She was already one foot into the dreamworld and no longer replying in full sentences. It was so cute that even though I wanted to let her sleep, my mischievous side surfaced.

“You can treat our people kindly, but please pay attention to me too, okay?”

“M’kay.”

“Will you embroider something for me too?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Then, one embroidered handkerchief, please.”

“’Kay...”

“It’s a promise, then.”

I wrested a promise from my half asleep wife. I was fully aware that this was unfair of me. However, I wanted Rose’s embroidery so badly that I was willing to resort to pathetic tactics.

“Good night.”

Rose is honest to a fault, so even if she doesn’t remember a promise, she won’t renege on it. I left our bedroom with such underhanded thoughts floating in my mind.

I continued down the empty corridor. The air was still tonight, and my footsteps were the only noise that echoed in the silent halls. With a lantern in one hand, I pulled on the doorknob to the office. It swung open with a low creak, revealing the silhouette of a person standing inside the pitch-black room. This shadow of a tall man—who was leaning against Rose’s desk in the very center of the back of the room—stood out against the moonlight streaming in from the large window that faced south. He lifted his head when I stepped inside.

“Hey there,” he said.

I could tell that he was handsome, even under the dim lighting. The man’s face morphed from deadpan to an exemplary pretty smile, and he raised his hand in a small gesture. However, strangely enough, he seemed eerier with a smile.

He seems more human to me when he’s devoid of expression because I know his true nature.

“I’m sorry for calling you over when you were about to sleep,” he said unabashedly.

A strained smile involuntarily spread on my face. I rarely receive an apology so insincere. “No, it’s fine. Let’s hear your report.” I walked to the table for guests and placed my lantern on top of it. Once I’d settled down on the sofa, I turned my gaze onto Ratte. “How was it?”

The corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk. “It’s turned into something quite entertaining. He’s finally begun to panic, though it’s far too late for him.” Ratte’s tone and demeanor showed that he was awfully amused. His crafty smile harbored more emotion than the one he’d pasted on earlier.

It seems he detests that man very much. Then again, I feel the same, so I can’t point fingers. I had ordered Ratte to scout the Schletter Duchy. Daniel von Schletter was the head of the Schletter Duchy and the current king’s cousin. It was a grand status to hold, but without his peerage and bloodline, he was merely a fool with nothing to be proud of.

He was a typical older man, deeply indoctrinated in misogyny, so he hated the very sight of Rose for being a duchess regnant. He didn’t have the guts to dispatch an assassin, but I couldn’t call him completely harmless. Spreading unsavory rumors about Rose in high society, increasing the tariffs between our domains—his harassment was banal.

Fortunately, thanks to Duke Schletter’s lack of virtue, his actions had never amounted to anything serious. The nasty rumors might have persisted if Rose were still a princess who rarely appeared in front of others, but now she was actively socializing. It was no contest—in one corner was a peerlessly beautiful duchess who stood at the forefront of trends, and in the other was an old duke with no achievements to his name. It was plain as day whom it would be more advantageous to curry favor with. Those wise individuals were stamping out any vulgar rumors before they could reach Rose’s ears.

Although trade between our domains had temporarily stagnated, that was trivial in the long term. It wasn’t as though the Schletter Duchy was our only business partner. Prelier was currently garnering attention from all over the world, and we didn’t need to search for business partners—they came to us. Ultimately, the ones to suffer were Schletter’s citizens.

“Raising taxes reduces transactions, which decreases tax yield. It’s common sense, and yet he’s panicking now? What a fool.” Ratte chuckled merrily.

Being in high spirits over another person’s misfortune is a sign of bad character. A person’s physical beauty doesn’t necessarily reflect the beauty of their heart, I thought rudely. “He’s a fool because he doesn’t understand common sense.”

“Don’t act like you feel differently,” Ratte scoffed.

I guess we both have bad characters, I corrected myself internally. I try to behave like a gentleman in front of Rose, but I’m actually cut from the same cloth as Ratte.

“While we’re still on the topic of the fool, he allegedly intends to raise the taxes on his domain’s residents. He thinks he can offset his declining tax yields by seizing it from the populace. He’s a picture-perfect tyrant. He’s so by the book that it’s funny. Astounding, really.” Ratte sighed.

It’s amazing he’s kept his status for so long when he’s this incompetent... No, he’s lasted this long because he’s incompetent. His domain managed without any issues until now because he was so absorbed in larking about that he foisted his work onto his subordinates and wife. The duke brought about the worst possible situation because he began to take up his own duties to antagonize Rose.

“If he keeps that up, everyone will leave him before long. When will he realize that?” I asked.

“That type won’t learn a thing until he’s the only one left. That’s how tyrants are,” Ratte replied.

“I pity his wife and son.”

“The sooner that vermin is quashed, the better for his family too, in my opinion.” Murder lurked in Ratte’s almond-shaped eyes. His face had transformed from an affable young man’s to a ruthless assassin’s in the blink of an eye.

I took in his gaze, sharp as a drawn blade, and narrowed my own eyes. “Even if that’s true, don’t do anything.”

“Oh? When did you become a pacifist?”

“I’m not. In fact, I’m the opposite. I may pity them, but I’m not charitable enough to help them. They should clean up their own family’s carelessness. Also...”

“Also?”

“Rose will reprimand me if I make you dirty your hands.”

Ratte blinked at me. The murderous aura he’d been exuding petered out, replaced by a dumbfounded look. He glared at me, unamused.

“What?” I asked.

“It makes me sick to my stomach how you act like you understand everything about the princess,” he grumbled.

It sounded like he had a bone to pick with me, but I chortled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Ick.” He recoiled in disgust, but I paid it no mind.

“Anyway, what of the mines? I heard the output has dropped considerably in recent years,” I said.

There were silver and copper mines in the northwest of the Schletter Duchy. It was a long-established mine that had been an invaluable source of income for generations. However, resources were not unlimited. It was an obvious fact of life: Continuous mining eventually exhausted the supply.

“Apparently, they’re in quite the pickle. He wants to dig in the zones his astute wife prohibited. One wrong move may result in many deaths.”

I silently clenched my fist. Miners constantly walked hand in hand with death. Falling rocks, dangerous gases—there were casualties every year. No amount of caution could completely prevent accidents. Hence, the proprietor’s direction was crucial, and their every decision could dramatically alter the survival rate.

Duke Schletter’s wife was a renowned woman of much talent. She had likely consulted with experts and experienced miners to ban mining in zones with a high probability of caving in. However, where a brilliant mind saw a grave, incompetent eyes saw an untouched mountain of treasure. She could try to explain with all the logic in the world, but that man had little regard for human life and would never relent.

“I forbid you from relaying this to Rose,” I said.

Ratte lowered his gaze and nodded obediently. “As you wish.”

If Rose learned of this, she wouldn’t be able to ignore it. However, meddling with another domain’s affairs would be overstepping her authority. Furthermore, although Duke Schletter’s decision is inhumane, it’s not against the law. Objecting to accidents that haven’t yet occurred would only bring dishonor to Rose’s name.

If she were the Rose of the past, she would follow her heart without caring about the drawbacks. However, now she’s a feudal lord and the director of the medical facility. She knows her actions would involve her citizens, friends, and family, so she wouldn’t be able to take action. I don’t want Rose to have to make that decision, even if it means being condemned for exceeding my authority or criticized for being egoistic. There are some things I refuse to concede.

“Would it be possible to spread rumors among the miners?” I asked.

“Of course,” Ratte replied, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “I’ll spread the news that the supervisor has changed, and he intends to have miners take on very dangerous work. Shall I also mix in some falsehoods about how there have already been several fatal rockfall accidents in addition to that? The story will look a little more credible if I have my subordinates act like injured miners.”

“Please do.”

It won’t work on everyone, but it should cause a decent number of miners to hesitate. They might protest against their higher-ups and boycott, which would buy some time. In the meantime, Duchess Schletter and her son will just need to devise a countermeasure.

“All right, I’ll go with that. I’ll send regular reports through my subordinate,” Ratte said.

“Very well.”

Our discussion over, Ratte stopped leaning on the office desk and headed for the door. He stopped mid-step and glanced in my direction. “Oh yeah—you should set up an airtight security plan for the festival. Who knows what sort of harassment that fool might scheme up?”

“Of course we’ll have guards stationed...” I paused for a moment. “Would he really waste time on such childish things when he’s in the middle of a crisis?”

“Yes, because he hasn’t realized just how big a crisis he’s in.”

“I see.”

Ratte flashed me a sardonic smile and promptly left.

Alone in the room, I said to myself, “I absolutely will not allow him to hamper the festival.”

My wife’s face as she embroidered the sash while fighting off her drowsiness floated through my mind, and I vowed it to myself once more.

The Reincarnated Duchess’s Anxiety

I held the brim of my hat as I peered up at the sky. It looked like someone had painted a faint trail of clouds on the clear blue expanse. The sunshine was warm, and the gentle breeze felt pleasant on my skin.

It’s a perfect autumn day. The perfect weather for an outing. The perfect...

“Weather for the harvest festival,” I murmured. It was so nice out that even the words I uttered seemed to melt into the air. However, it was hard for me to say that my feelings were as clear.

According to Ratte’s report that Sir Leonhart had passed on to me, Duke Schletter was up to no good. It was unlikely that he’d attack me directly, but he might try to cause trouble using the revelry as a cover. A sigh had immediately escaped my lips when I had heard that.

Why does he hate me so much? People perceive things differently, so it’s not uncommon for someone to hold a grudge against you even if you don’t think you’ve done anything wrong. But I basically only greeted Duke Schletter at the royal soiree. We only exchanged one or two sentences, so there wasn’t enough conversation to hate me for. This is absurd. Though I grumbled about it, I knew the reason.

It’s because I’m a duchess regnant. That’s it. From his perspective, that’s enough of a reason for me to deserve his hatred. Also, I suspect he dislikes that I’m ignoring his harassment. I bet if I cried about it, he’d be satisfied and eventually lose interest. But that’s impossible. He raised tariffs without citing an urgent reason like crop failure. We’re not just going to go, “Yes, sure, that’s fine.” It’s my duty to protect the people who live in my domain. Of course I’ll trade with other domains that offer more favorable terms.

Although I reminded myself of this, there was one thing I couldn’t swallow.

Being hated is hard. Being resented is hard. Being the target of another person’s malice is scary. I’m afraid of being hurt, but I’m more terrified that the people I care about will be hurt because of me. I can’t bear it.

I exhaled, trying to release the unpleasant emotions that were taking root in my heart.

A voice suddenly called out to me. “The weather’s beautiful.”

I lifted my face. Without me noticing, Sir Leonhart had joined me and was now standing by my side. “Leon.”

“The weather has been cloudy all week, so I was worried about today. Mass-producing all those teru teru bozu things was worth it,” he said.

“Indeed,” I replied. His tender expression teased a smile out of my pursed lips. My husband was a kind man who hadn’t been taken aback by his wife’s eccentric behavior of hanging strange dolls in the window. He’d even joined me in making them.

“The festivities have already begun in town. I think the merchants’ advertisements have been effective. Even people from the capital have come,” he said.

“I see. I’m glad to hear it.”

“I think we’ll be able to catch a glimpse of it from inside the carriage on our way there, but why don’t we also walk around, just the two of us, when we have time?”

“That sounds nice.” I tried to smile but failed. Negative thoughts wouldn’t stop plaguing my mind.

A large hand wrapped around my tightly clenched fist. His fingers intertwined with mine, embracing me in his warmth. The heat radiating from Sir Leonhart’s firm palm made me realize just how cold my fingertips had been from the nerves.

“Leo—”

“It’ll be fine.” There was only unvarnished truth within his straightforward gaze. “Today will definitely be a good day.” Although his voice was calm and gentle, it was strangely reassuring.

The words of my beloved, whom I trusted unconditionally, made the tension leave my shoulders. I exhaled, and the stifling feeling that’d clung to my chest disappeared. “You’re right,” I said, a goofy smile spreading across my face.

Sir Leonhart smiled back at me.

I’m not alone. My reliable husband and friends are here. I’m sure it’ll be fine.

“Well then, shall we be off?” he asked.

“Yes, let’s go!”

With our hands still intertwined, he escorted me to the carriage, and we climbed in.

Before we headed to the village, I had the carriage pass through a corner of the business district. When I peeked out of the window, I was enchanted by a vibrant scene.

Yellow, orange, and green—fabric and flags carrying colors associated with a bountiful harvest fluttered gently in the soft breeze. Storefronts were decorated with fabulous flower arrangements. There were decorations of all sorts—potted plants, flower stands, hanging balls—and every single one was gorgeous. There were also shops that had large pumpkins and sweet potatoes on display like works of art, reminding me of Halloween in some ways. Flower petals danced in the air. It was a magical sight that left me captivated, my mouth half open.

“It’s wonderful...” I murmured.

Sir Leonhart peered out the window from his seat beside me. “I didn’t expect them to put in this much effort either,” he said, smiling wryly.

I was in a daze, but I nodded my head in agreement. I hoped that I’d get to witness a sight like this one day, but I didn’t expect it to happen right off the bat. That would have been a reckless goal. I mean, we only decided to hold a harvest festival two months ago. And we weren’t following past traditions—we were incorporating my unconventional ideas. We lacked documents, precedents, and preparation time. It’s a reckless festival lacking so much.

Frankly, it’s a miracle that we even managed to hold a festival at all. That’s why I wanted to gradually increase the scale. Not now, but one day. In some years, I’d imagined I’d be holding my child’s hand as I boasted, “Isn’t it amazing?” That was supposed to be the plan.

I never thought my wish would be granted this quickly.

“It’s because, for some reason, your allies are bizarre... Pardon me, you have many extremely talented allies,” Sir Leonhart said, his tone a mix of admiration and astonishment.

As I gazed upon this dreamlike sight, Lord Julius’s and Hiiragi’s faces came to mind. They were both brilliant people, and they’d wholeheartedly put their talents to work during the festival meetings. Instead of flagrantly taking control of the discussions, they’d made self-effacing suggestions and had helped guide the conversation in a direction that was favorable to me.

Those two are quite different personality-wise, but they share many similarities. They both have friendly smiles and gentle demeanors, as well as unflappable nerves that aren’t shaken by ordinary problems. Also, they’ve both got a bit of a scheming streak. Though I’d thrown in an underhanded comment that would earn their anger, I was very grateful to them both. I was utterly positive that they had spared no effort to galvanize the harvest festival.

“I’ll need to thank them later,” I murmured. I gazed at the main road, which was already teeming with activity, though the shops weren’t even open yet.

As Sir Leonhart said, I’m sure today will be a good day.

The Marquis’s Son Provides Customer Service

“Clerk, could you show me that teacup with the flower design?”

“Yes, of course. Do you mean this one?” I gently lifted the teacup stored inside of a box with my white-gloved hands. I placed it on top of its saucer and quietly set it in front of the customer.

“Hmm...” The man hummed as he examined it.

He doesn’t seem pleased with it. “I could show you a few other designs, if you’d like.”

“Yes, sorry. I figured I’d jump on the Prelier traditions bandwagon and give my wife flowers, but I felt awfully embarrassed. I thought I could nonchalantly hand her a teacup with a floral pattern, but...I need to muster up a tad more courage, it seems. It’s not within my character.”

The teacups in front of the man all had vibrant, gorgeous designs, but they also made his intentions quite clear. If he wants to nonchalantly give his wife a present, then none of these would be suitable.

“Do you have any with slightly more unassuming patterns?” he asked.

“Certainly. I’ll bring out our designs with smaller flowers. Please wait one moment.” I turned around, searched the shelf behind the counter, and selected a box. Before I returned to the customer, I suddenly remembered something and grabbed a second box. “This cup’s design uses daintier flowers.”

“Yes, it’s nice. It’s definitely unassuming.”

“And, if I may be so presumptuous, I have one other item I’d like to show you.” I opened the second box, revealing a white teacup. It was a pure-white porcelain cup, its surface unmarked by any pattern except for a gold-gilded rim. The man’s confusion was almost palpable, but I tilted the cup to show him the inside.

“A flower!” he exclaimed.

“Yes. This piece has only a single bellflower painted on the inside, right at the bottom.”

At a glance, it was a simple design, but the cup hid a beautiful flower. It wasn’t a pattern, so to speak, but I thought it was the perfect gift, exactly what the elderly gentleman was searching for.

“It’s pretty... And a bellflower? My wife loves bellflowers.” The man smiled gaily and pointed at the bellflower teacup. “I’ll take that. Could you wrap it for me?”

“Certainly. Thank you very much. Please wait one moment.” I left the wrapping to another employee and handled the payment. Once the cup was wrapped, we placed it in a paper bag and handed it to the gentleman at the entrance.

“Young man, you were a lifesaver. Thank you. I’m glad I asked you for help.”

I resisted the urge to break into a bright grin and maintained my customer service expression as I bowed my head. “I’m glad I could be of service. We’ll be waiting for your next visit.”

I watched the gentleman step out of the building before I allowed my mouth to relax.

Suddenly, someone called my name. “Oh, George!”

My face instantly drew tight. I mustn’t let a customer see my slovenly expression, I thought in a panic. I searched for the owner of the voice. Amid the bustle of the crowd, I spied a familiar person wearing a bashful smile walking toward me from the other side of the street. The man who was waving at me was an old friend of mine.

“Michael! Are you alo—” I was about to ask him if he was looking around the festival alone, but I held my tongue. She was hidden in the crowd, but there was a petite young lady next to him.

I was shocked by this unforeseen development. I never would have expected Michael, that late bloomer, to be having a tryst with a lady. As his friend, I should be happy for him, but it feels like I’ve been left behind...which makes me feel a little lonely.

“Michael, who’s this young lady?” I asked.

“She’s Lily, my colleague at the medical facility. I’m much obliged to her,” he replied.

I met eyes with the lady he had introduced as Lily, and she bowed with graceful movements. She had light-brown skin and dark-gray hair. They, along with her honey-colored eyes, attested to her Khuer tribe roots. I recognized her face and her name.

We’d been introduced during the epidemic in the Kingdom of Vint, and we’d met several more times after I’d returned to Nevel. I recall that she adored Lady Rosemary, but it seems she’s close to Michael as well.

“We happened to have business in town today, and since it was so pretty, we decided to do a little sightseeing before returning,” Michael explained. “It’s the harvest festival, right? It’s stunning. I was surprised by how gorgeous the town has become.”

“Well, I’m the surprised one. I never expected you, of all people, to be having a secret tryst with a lady.”

“Tr— N-No! Lily is merely accompanying me for some shopping!” Michael denied my words in a panic, his face bright red.

Lily watched him with warm eyes.

There is definitely warmth between them. I don’t think I’m wrong, but meddling in another person’s love affairs brings bad fortune, so I’ll stop pressing him. “I see. Did you finish your shopping? If you have time, why don’t you drop by our shop? Right now, we have a diverse collection of goods with flower designs.”

“I noticed all the shops are decorated with flowers. Does it have something to do with the harvest festival?” he asked.

“Apparently, giving flowers to those you cherish is an old custom of this festival. Because of that, the city decided to sell not only real flowers, but also flower-related items for a limited time. By the way, this was Lady Rosemary’s idea.”

“Lady Rosemary’s?!” Lily jumped at that, her eyes twinkling.

“Yes. If you want, why don’t you buy something as a souvenir?” I flashed her my business smile.

She nodded emphatically. “Would you happen to have anything with roses on it?”

“Teacups, teapots, a hand mirror and its case—we have quite the selection.” I took a step back and swung the door to our shop wide open, inviting them in.

Lily entered giddily, like a bee drawn to honey.

“Please help this lady out,” I said, signaling to one of the female staff members inside. She smiled instead of responding out loud.

I turned back around to face Michael, who was standing outside in a daze, and circled behind him to push him in.

“Huh? George?”

“Michael, you should come inside too. Lily will fret if you just stand outside.” Lily was absorbed in perusing our wares and had already seemed to have forgotten about Michael, but I didn’t point that out.

“B-But... I don’t have much money left on me today.”

“I won’t complain if you don’t buy anything. I’m not so petty as to treat my good friend like that.”

Michael nodded as if that much were obvious. “I know that, but I just feel bad.”

His response made me feel a little shy. Michael’s honesty is a virtue that I don’t possess. It’s endearing, but at the same time, it makes me want to tease him. What a fix to be in. “In that case, we also carry items with relatively affordable prices, so why don’t you take a look at those?”

“Oh, really? Which ones?”

“How about these decorative buttons or handkerchiefs? I can guarantee their quality.”

“They do look high-quality...but they’re too cute for me.” Michael scratched his cheek, troubled.

I directed a mischievous smirk at him. “Who said they were for you? Today’s a special day when you give a present to the woman you cherish.”

Stunned, Michael’s face turned bright red. “I-I told you we’re not like that!”

“I know, I know, O dear friend of mine.”

“You definitely don’t know!” He glared at me with teary eyes.

I lightly patted his shoulder to pacify him. Michael’s reactions are candid and amusing, but I should be careful not to push his buttons too much, lest he come to hate me.

The Reincarnated Duchess Kicks Things Off

“Ahem.” I coughed, trying to hide my nerves. I surveyed the area from a higher position than everyone else. The expressions of the villagers gathered here were as bright as the clear sky. Restless and eager—euphoria crackled through the air, itching to burst forth.

“Thank you all for gathering here,” I said, loud enough that I wouldn’t be drowned out by the chatter. I expressed my gratitude to everyone for supporting my idea and their dedication to assisting me despite the short preparation period. “We were able to make it today all thanks to everyone’s help.”

I was trying to keep my speech as succinct as possible, but the children were already bored. On the edge of my vision, I saw a child slip out of their mother’s hand and try to take off. It put a wry smile on my face, and I paused for a moment.

I was determined to make a grand speech worthy of a time-honored tradition, but that’s unnecessary. I never wanted to sit through long speeches before festivals in my past life either.

“I hereby declare the commencement of the harvest festival. Let’s enjoy today to the fullest!”

The crowd erupted with thunderous applause and loud whooping. And so, this village, which was usually so tranquil, launched into a day of merriment.

“I’m going to be away from you for the time being, so be careful. If you feel uneasy about anything, please call for me right away.” Sir Leonhart peered at me with a serious expression, his hands clasped around mine. His worried expression reminded me of an overprotective father sending his child on their first errand.

“I will,” I said.

“You’re not allowed to get separated from Klaus and the other guards. Don’t approach any suspicious-looking individuals.”

“I know.” I forced a smile. He’s treating me like a child. If I think of it as a show of how much he treasures me, I don’t feel bad. We don’t know what Duke Schletter is plotting exactly, but given that he’s a coward, it’s highly unlikely that he’ll try to hurt me directly.

Sir Leonhart was also of the same opinion. With that in mind, the safest place to be on the day of the festival was around me, so it would be a waste if Sir Leonhart—our strongest asset—spent the day guarding me. So, we had decided we would move separately for a few hours. He would patrol the town and give instructions to the knights, while I would walk around accompanied by guards to act as a crime deterrent.

I would be surrounded by excellent knights like Klaus, so I would be fairly safe. Between the two of us, Sir Leonhart was the one more likely to run into danger. Though he understood this logically, he was still opposed to leaving my side.

“Let’s eat together. Why don’t we meet up for lunch?” he suggested.

“Okay. Leon, you be careful too.”

“I will.” He gave me a quick peck on the forehead and squeezed my hands tightly to show his reluctance to leave. Finally, he released his grip.

As Sir Leonhart left, he glanced over his shoulders multiple times, like he was loath to depart. My husband is normally quite dignified, so the sight of him dejected is simply adorable. It pulls at my heartstrings, but that’s my little secret.

I was walking down a street lined with stalls when a cheerful voice called out to me. “Your Grace!”

Zaara—the energetic young woman with whom I’d made acquaintance when I’d come to observe the village—waved at me excitedly. In front of her was a table covered with flower baskets. They were small rattan baskets with handles that were cutely decorated with little bouquets. There was an ample variety of colors, some warm, some cool, and it tickled my maiden heart. I approached her like I was being drawn in by an unseen force.

Gerda sat quietly next to Zaara. “Your Grace, good morning.”

“Good morning, Gerda, Zaara. Were all these baskets, by chance...”

“Gerda made all of them!” Zaara exclaimed.

“I knew it. They’re well-made and practical but still extremely cute.”

“I know, right? I know, right!” Zaara’s chest puffed up with pride, as though she were the one being praised.

The corners of Gerda’s eyes softened at the sight of the young woman. “Zaara chose all the flowers. I don’t know what young’uns like these days, so she was a big help.”

Zaara smiled shyly at the praise, giggling bashfully. The two of them were close, like a grandchild and her grandma, and I couldn’t help but smile at their heartwarming relationship.

“They’re selling pretty good too! Especially these ones!” Zaara said, pointing at the bouquets consisting of white, light-blue, and yellow flowers. Evidently, that was their signature product. All the other baskets each had their own unique color scheme, but this was the only arrangement with multiple baskets, and they made up half the table.

It’s a lovely bouquet, but what’s the concept behind it? Do the flowers have meanings that pertain to the festival?

“I’ll have one too, then,” I said.

My maid moved to pay, but before she could take out any coin, Zaara stopped her. “Hold it right there. I won’t accept your money. Please, take it!”

“But...” I objected, my tone uncertain.

“Your Grace, please let us give you one,” Gerda chimed in.

“Gerda...”

“Zaara has worked very hard these past few weeks. She wanted to create a bouquet in your image no matter what,” Gerda explained.

“What...?”

“I wanted to depict your majestic beauty and girlish sweetness! This is the feudal lord special—I call it ‘Flowers of Prelier’! I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself, and I’m quite satisfied with my work.”

This had all come out of left field. I was dumbfounded.

“Magnificent,” Klaus whispered behind me. “She did a magnificent job expressing your immaculate beauty and loveliness, as well as your brightness that illuminates our world like the sun. She also used small flowers rather than large ones to portray Lady Rosemary’s modest character. Spectacular work.”

His face was so solemn as he unleashed a torrent of compliments that I almost wanted to retort, “What committee are you judging for?!” His cadence was brisk and a little terrifying.

“Sir, you understand!” Zaara said.

“It’s only natural.” Klaus swelled with pride.

I looked away. “Um, then, I gratefully accept.” In the corner of my mind I was crying, Flowers are the symbol of this festival, and they’re supposed to help men and women get together. Are you sure you want to base the motif off the feudal lord? However, I couldn’t bring myself to say such an uncouth thing out loud with Zaara beaming at me like that.

“Oh yeah! I’m going to enter the cooking contest, so please swing by if you have time,” she said.

“Yes, of course. Good luck!”

“I’m aiming for victory!” she exclaimed zealously.

I parted ways with Zaara and headed for a different area. I pretended like I hadn’t seen Klaus furtively ask Zaara to set aside a flower basket for him. After that initial encounter, people continued to call out to me with every step. Villagers gave me vegetables and sweets one after another, and my attendants ended up with their arms full.

On the off chance something does happen, it’ll be bad if their hands are out of commission... They should put the gifts somewhere and come back. However, they’re so loyal that they will be unwilling to step away from me. I’ll just have to make my rounds while heading toward my carriage.

As soon as I left the festival grounds, the people disappeared. The hot, frenzied air particular to crowds faded, and it became easier to breathe. I was drawing deep breaths as I walked when I heard voices coming from the shadows of a building. I couldn’t ascertain exactly what they were saying, but it didn’t sound peaceful. Just as I was wondering if I was witnessing a fight, Klaus stepped in front of me. Before I knew it, the other knights had also taken up their positions in a defensive circle around me.

The voice was coming from far away, but I managed to make out, “...now you’ve done it. Bastard! Bring it...” The context was unclear, but I sensed danger.

It sounds like there are several people arguing back there. No, that was one person’s voice, so someone may be getting threatened.

“Beat it!” someone roared angrily.

My guards grasped the handles of their swords.

Right as Klaus took a step forward, a loud “Gah?!” rang through the air. Not a second later, someone came flying out of the shadows.

My eyes popped open in surprise as a large man tumbled in front of me. He must’ve landed quite hard, because he stayed on the ground moaning. That didn’t change the fact that he was a stranger though, and my knights had me take a few steps back.

What happened? What is going on? Someone must’ve sent this man flying, but my guards aren’t moving a muscle, not even Klaus.

I heard the sound of pebbles crunching under someone’s foot. I looked up with a start to see another person emerge from the shadows. Their face was shrouded by the hood of their cloak, but judging by their stature and build, I guessed they were a man. He looks scrawnier than the man on the ground. Did he really knock him over?

“Halt!” Klaus yelled sharply.

The hooded individual obediently stopped and raised his hands in the air to show he had no intention of resisting.

“What happened here?” Klaus asked.

“That man was being violent, so I simply put a stop to it.” It was the voice of a young man. He didn’t have an accent, and his level tone gave off a certain air of class.

Upon closer inspection, his clothes were awfully well-made. At a glance, he was dressed like a commoner, but the lack of wrinkles on his shirt peeking out from under his cloak, the sheen of his leather boots, his buttons—there were too many things that gave away his high status.

I’d thought it might’ve been a fight between people who’d gotten swept up in the festivities or ruffians hired by Duke Schletter, but he didn’t seem to fit either case.

“And who are you?” Klaus questioned.

“I’m...no one suspicious,” the young man responded hesitantly.

Anyone who answers with “no one suspicious” is definitely suspicious! And I think he knows it. His voice lacks conviction.

Klaus regarded him warily and was about to ask a follow-up question when another person appeared from behind the slender man.

“Um...” It was a young woman. She wore a beleaguered expression as she glanced between the man and Klaus. “He’s telling the truth. That one on the ground was hassling me, and this man helped me.”

Deep creases were etched into Klaus’s brow. He didn’t doubt her words—after all, both he and I knew the woman. She wasn’t a villager, nor was she a traveler. She wore the guise of an ordinary person here for sightseeing, but she was actually one of our knights.

Unlike at normal festivals, it was highly likely that incidents bigger than drunken fights might break out this year. There were knights in uniform patrolling the village, but we had also deployed several knights and agents in casual clothes to blend in with the festivalgoers. She was one of them.

Probably what happened is that when she was accosted by the large man, she didn’t retaliate immediately, so she could see what he would do. Then the second man passed by and helped her. She’s not wrong for wanting to sound out the large man’s motives, and the other man isn’t bad for helping her when he passed by, of course. It was just unlucky timing.

Eyes closed, Klaus massaged his brow with his thumb and sighed. “I’ll hear what you have to say at the guardhouse,” he said curtly.

One of my knights approached the fallen man and bound his arms so he couldn’t struggle before forcing him onto his feet.

“Is that permissible?” Klaus asked me.

I forced a smile and nodded. I peeked my face out from behind my guard to look at the slender man. “You, sir—could you come along as well?” I asked him.

His shoulders jolted in surprise. “Um, I...” The man was clearly troubled. He dithered, trying to find a way out.

I feel bad, but I can’t let you go. I’m sure you protected our lady knight with honest intentions, but I need to hear everybody’s side of the story. Also, sorry, but you’re just way too suspicious. As harmless as you might seem, I can’t disregard you. At the very least, I think we’ll need to stick a tail on you.

“I’m sorry, but you don’t have the right to refuse,” Klaus said, not sorry in the slightest.

“There’s something I must do. Is there any way you could please let me go?” the slender man replied.

Fed up, Klaus frowned. “What ridiculous...” he mumbled, about to flat out deny the man’s request.

However, the man grabbed his hood and pulled it back. Straight, chestnut-brown hair spilled out. Slightly upturned blue eyes peered out from beneath his long bangs, and his gaze locked with mine. He had a high nose and dignified eyebrows that exuded a strong will. Though he was a young man with handsome features, his complexion was pallid. His pale skin accentuated the unhealthy color of his lips and the circles under his eyes.

Hmm? I feel like I’ve seen him before. I tried to sift through my memories, but no name came to mind. He’s not a villager, nor is he from the city. He’s not related to the medical facility, nor is he one of my subordinates. It felt like there was a tiny fish bone lodged in the back of my throat as I racked my brain.

My memory has never been very good, and I feel like I’ve had even less capacity ever since I hammered faces and family trees of nobles I rarely socialize with into my brain in order to attend the soiree.

That triggered the light bulb to go off in my head. “Oh!”

I never would’ve expected someone like him to come to a farming village, so it took me a while to remember, but it makes sense I’d struggle to recognize him. He’s my relative, although we’ve never really interacted before. That’s Franz von Schletter, the aforementioned Duke Schletter’s eldest son and my second cousin.

I was about to call him Lord Franz, but I stopped myself. “It’s you,” I ended up saying vaguely. Although the area was clear of other people, we didn’t know who might be eavesdropping from unseen places, so I didn’t want to expose his identity. Though I had many questions for him, the first question to leave my lips was “Why are you here?”

Lord Franz’s face twisted in pain. “My apologies,” he said. His voice sounded as hurt as his expression.

At the very least, I doubt Lord Franz has anything to do with Duke Schletter’s schemes.

“I understand it’s an impudent request, considering what that man has done to you, but please, could you trust me just this one time? I am not your enemy,” he said.

“Lady Rosemary. His nonsense is not worth listening to,” Klaus said sternly. He protectively stepped between us.

Klaus is a noble, so he’s surely realized who Lord Franz is too. Look at that ice-cold glare Klaus is directing at him. It’s true that Lord Franz is the son of Duke Schletter, the cause of my recent headaches. It’s reasonable for Klaus to distrust him. But...

“Please explain more,” I said.

Shock flashed across Lord Franz’s face.

“You’re trusting him?” Klaus asked, equally flabbergasted. They both looked at me in disbelief.

I know basically nothing about Lord Franz. My knowledge amounts to whatever shallow information is contained within a handbook of nobles. I don’t even have enough information to judge whether he’s trustworthy. But for some reason, I get the feeling he isn’t my enemy. There’s sincerity in his worn-out and sorrowful expression. I don’t think it’s an act.

“Why don’t we hear his story first?” I asked. “We can decide whether to believe him or not after.”

Klaus wore a bitter frown, but he reluctantly accepted my decision. “As you wish.” His attitude clearly showed that he disagreed, but he ordered his subordinates to keep watch of our surroundings nonetheless.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Don’t take too long. The villagers will begin to grow suspicious,” he replied.

“Good point. Let’s get right to it, then.” I turned around to face Lord Franz. “Please explain yourself.”

He bowed deeply. “Where do I even start...? Do you already know what that man—my father—is scheming?”

“Not everything. All we know is that there’s a possibility he’ll sabotage the festival,” I answered.

Lord Franz’s eyes fell for a moment, but the shame quickly disappeared from his face, and his expression turned serious again. “Then I’ll tell you the information I have. That man has been making suspicious movements lately, so I had my subordinate investigate. Apparently, he’s hired a group of people. And it’s a rather nasty group too... They’re ruffians who’ll accept any job as long as they’re paid enough.”

Klaus clicked his tongue and venomously spat, “The cur.”

“Klaus.” I called his name, trying to calm him, but the gears in my head were already turning.

It may be difficult to bring down the duke himself, even if we catch those ruffians. We could interrogate them, but say they admit they were hired by the duke—without any concrete evidence, he could feign ignorance, and that would be the end of it. I knew it would be hard to get a duke punished for something like sabotaging a festival, but I thought we could at least gain a bargaining chip. I wanted to negotiate with him so that he’d stop messing with my citizens in the future.

“However, that ilk are difficult to command, and there’s the threat of betrayal. So, it’s very possible that he has one of his own subordinates accompanying them to control them. That man is a fool and a coward, so I doubt he would leave everything in the hands of strangers,” Lord Franz continued.

“Will you recognize his subordinate if you see them?” I asked.

“He doesn’t have many subordinates who are fit for the task. I have a few people in mind already, so I most likely can.” His expression belied his cautious wording. The grim look on his face told me he was determined to stop his father, even if he had to sacrifice himself to do so.

This isn’t good. I had a vague inkling when I saw how emaciated he was, but Lord Franz is too serious. He’s trying to shoulder everything alone. I can’t bear to watch. It reminds me of my past self when I struggled to depend on others.

However, Klaus spoke up first. “If you’re aware of that much, then why don’t you confront your father and stop him?” He asked this in an accusatory tone, placing even more pressure on him.

“Klaus!” I chided.

Lord Franz didn’t seem offended and simply smiled wryly. “It shames me to admit, but I still don’t hold a single scrap of power in our home. As indolent as that man is, he’s endeavored—no, spared no coin to preserve his authority. If I censure him without any evidence or witnesses, his subordinates who are reaping the benefits of his status won’t stay silent.”

Lord Franz is blaming himself for being inadequate, but that’s not true. He’s trying to fight someone who’ll use any method, fair or foul, within the law. Of course it’d be a struggle.

“And though I discovered the crime he intends to commit, reporting it when it’s still only a plan is not enough to depose him as head of the household. If I quash his plan with half-baked measures, he’ll continue to do as he pleases and come up with more worthless schemes. Next time, he’ll be more careful to not get caught. I judged that it would be worse if I failed to notice his schemes and intervened too late.”

Klaus looked like he wanted to say something, but this time, he remained silent.

“Yes, I agree as well,” I said. It’s troublesome that he’s targeting the harvest festival, but since we knew about it beforehand, we took countermeasures. However, we don’t know whether we’ll obtain information on his plans in advance next time. So, I want to shut him down completely and finally this time.

“I’m truly sorry for using the people of Prelier as bait. I intend to do everything I can to stop him, but...” Lord Franz broke off in the middle and dropped his gaze to his feet. “If something happens, I will take responsibility with my own two hands and—”

His voice had dropped an octave lower, and it made chills run down my spine. “Let’s do everything we can so that nothing happens!” I blurted out before I could think. For some reason, I had the feeling I shouldn’t let him finish that sentence.

His eyes widened in surprise. The shadow that had haunted his face only seconds ago vanished, and he appeared more youthful. I examined him closely, my hand pressed against my wildly beating chest. It wasn’t the cute pitter-patter a lady got when standing in front of a handsome young man. It was the same rush one would experience when they’d managed to grab the hand of someone who had leaped off a cliff in the nick of time—a mix of relief and fear. This is very bad for my heart.

“You and I, and my subordinates too, are all here to ensure nothing happens... We all have the same objective, so please don’t torment yourself over this alone,” I said.

Lord Franz’s eyes widened even more. Then, his face contorted like he was about to cry, and he looked down as though to escape from my gaze. “Okay,” he said in a whisper so faint it felt like he might disappear.

It sounded like he was tearing up, and I became flustered. Did I make him cry? I pulled out my handkerchief in a quiet panic. I held it out to him, giving him a lousy excuse that there was dirt on his cheek, and he meekly accepted it.

After nearly a full minute of silence, Lord Franz raised his head. I was secretly relieved to see that there were no traces of tears around his eyes. His pallor was still poor, but it seemed to have improved somewhat.

“I apologize for the unsightly display,” he said.

“Not at all.” I wanted to ask if he was okay, but I stopped myself. I’m sure he doesn’t want it brought up.

“It’s about time,” Klaus urged, sour-faced and without any regard for Lord Franz’s feelings.

That’s not an attitude you should take with the son of a duke, but I’m grateful he dispelled the awkward atmosphere.

“Yes, we’d best hurry. Do you have any idea where they might target?” I asked.

“Is there a location that will attract the most attention today? I suspect he will aim there,” Lord Franz replied.

“Attention?” I thought for a moment. “I suppose the highlights of the festival are the contest of strength and the cooking contest.”

“Then I think he’ll try to interlope in one of those.”

Because we needed to prepare ingredients and equipment in advance for the cooking contest, registration closed a week ago. Similarly, we chose judges ahead of time. But sightseers can participate in the contest of strength, so if he’s going to wreak havoc, it’ll be there. It’s dangerous to jump to conclusions, though. I should keep an eye on both events. Fortunately, they start at different times. If nothing happens at the contest of strength, then I’ll move to the cooking contest site.

“It’s almost time for the contest of strength to begin. Let’s hurry.”

I sent a knight to relay our newfound information to Sir Leonhart and all the overseers at each site, then set off for the contest of strength’s venue.

The First Prince Worries

My trusty pen glided across the paper as I signed “Christoph von Velfalt” in one smooth motion. I tossed it atop the mountain of approved documents piled up on the corner of my desk. Then, I reached toward the unresolved stack and picked up another document.

“It’s about at the end of its rope,” I muttered with a sigh.

Johan looked back at me from where he stood in front of the bookshelf. “Is something the matter?” He put down the book in his left hand on his desk and strode over to me.

“It’s this.” I handed him the document, and he began to review it.

“Duke Schletter’s domain, I see.” His brow furrowed. “It’s been on the decline for half a year now. It’s quite evident that that man has absolutely no talent for management.”

Daniel von Schletter’s face floated through my mind as I listened to Johan. The duke is so impulsive and lacking in discretion that I’m incredulous about his relation to our levelheaded king. He foists his work onto his brilliant wife and subordinates and drowns himself in debauched merrymaking. What a depraved human. He’s clearly unfit to be a feudal lord.

However, he had changed as of late. In the past, he had shown not even a sliver of interest in managing his domain, but suddenly he had begun to take charge. He was reassessing new business ventures, tariffs, and so on—working with a vigor like he’d turned over a new leaf. Unfortunately, that man had no aptitude for business. His fortune had disappeared in the blink of an eye, as if he’d opened a hole in their vault.

“I scorned him as a hopeless wastrel, but I’ve changed my opinion of him a bit,” Johan said.

That was an unexpected statement, so I asked, “How so?”

He raised one corner of his mouth into a slight smirk. “Diligent work on his part has resulted in destitution for his citizens and ruin for his duchy. He was far more helpful when he was a wastrel capering about,” Johan said in a scathing tone.

It was harsh, but I didn’t think he had said too much. In fact, I agreed with him.

“He should’ve docilely left things to his wife, as he has always done. Has he lost his mind?” Johan wondered.

“It’s because he felt competitive toward Rose,” I said.

“The only commonality they share is that they’re both feudal lords of ducal rank. He’s inferior to our sister in every single way. His audacity is incredible.” The sneer vanished from Johan’s face, replaced by a sulky frown. “You and the king have been watching quietly, but isn’t it about time?” He mimed crushing something with his hands. “Observe all you like—he’ll do nothing but bring harm.”

“That may be the case, but there needs to be an appropriate reason for us to intervene.”

As shoddy of a feudal lord as Daniel von Schletter was, we hadn’t found any evidence of illegal activity. The royal family currently lacked sufficient grounds to step in and lay judgment upon him.

“Shall I find a reason?” Johan suggested casually.

I glared at him through half-lidded eyes. “Stop that.”

“I’m not saying I’ll fabricate something. Scratch about enough, and I’m sure we’ll dig up some dirt. If we compile enough of his minor misdeeds, they’ll string together to form a larger allegation.”

“Stop that,” I repeated.

He clicked his tongue like a pouty child.

“As incompetent as he is, he’s still a duke,” I continued. “If we move hastily and blunder, the other families won’t stay quiet. Crushing Duke Schletter would affect more than a few households.” I paused. “The most desirable outcome would be for his heir to take over as quickly as possible.”

“Oh yeah. He has a son.”

“Franz is a diligent and brilliant man. I’m certain he will become a good lord.”

“Diligent and brilliant, you say...” Johan grouchily parroted my words. “If we wait for such a lawful and upright man to make a move, who knows when he’ll succeed his father? Either the duchy falls to ruin or the current lord passes away from infirmity.”

Like Franz, I also disapproved of attacking others with out-of-the-box methods, so my brother’s assertion hit a little too close to home. “Yes, it may take time, but in exchange he’ll reliably—”

Johan interrupted me by slamming the documents in his hands onto my desk. “And what will you do if that man manages to pull something off while you’re leisurely twiddling your thumbs?” He jabbed at the paper with such force that the surface creased. “His current target is our sister.”

Surprise flashed across my face.

“If you wait on the sidelines for his duchy to collapse on itself, then you’ll suffer the consequences. That man refuses to acknowledge his incompetence. Our sister may be unrelated to his failings, but that won’t stop him from resenting her unjustifiably.”

I swallowed audibly. When I imagined him directing malice at Rose, who was with child, chills ran down my spine.

“If that asinine duke becomes desperate and tries to hurt my dear sister, I won’t stand for it,” Johan said in a monotonous yet bloodcurdling tone. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I feel the same.” I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh. I don’t want to think about it, but I would never allow Rose to be endangered. I may be criticized for acting upon personal grudges when I’m the future king, but I would send him to hell with my own two hands without fail.

“Then—”

“However, he won’t be able to harm Rose so easily,” I said.

Johan blinked at me.

“Did you forget to whom she is married?”

He froze, taken aback. Then, his expression slowly transformed. Cantankerous wrinkles formed on his brow, and his mouth drew into a tight line, but no rebuttal came. Though Johan flared up at Leonhart at every opportunity, he acknowledged the former captain’s abilities.

“Our nation’s strongest knight is by Rose’s side, so I’ve no doubt she’ll be safe.” I said those words out loud to remind myself of that fact too. As the crown prince, I couldn’t run to Rose’s side. It vexed me, but at the same time, I understood that it wasn’t my duty. “There’s no role for us to play right now. Needless to say, I’ll keep an eye on his movements, but we should address our own obligations first.”

Johan remained silent, a grim look stuck on his face. He stared at the floor like he was hurling all his irritation at it and then shut his eyes tightly as though he were trying to break free from something. “Not right now, you said, yes?” he asked in a low growl.

“That’s right.”

“Which means we might have a role to play...depending on the duke’s machinations?” His head still down, Johan gave me a sidelong glance from the corner of his eye.

“It’s possible,” I replied evenly and nodded. “If there is no significant development within half a year, in all likelihood, the king won’t remain silent either. And if that happens, our time will come.”

If Franz makes a move and achieves some degree of success in half a year, then the Schletter Duchy’s lifespan will be prolonged. However, if he remains stuck in the current standstill, he’ll be abandoned.

Johan breathed out deeply, as though he were emptying his lungs. “Fine. I’ll behave myself.” There was an unspoken “For now” tacked on at the end. He turned on his heel and returned to his desk, resuming work as though nothing had happened.

A soft sigh escaped from my lips as I gazed at his profile.

The Reincarnated Duchess’s Festival

“It’s packed to the rafters here,” Lord Franz muttered to himself.

“It truly is,” I instinctively replied.

By the time we’d arrived at the venue, the competition had already begun, and there was a massive wall of people. The crowd was crackling with excitement—their cheering and jeering drowned out any conversation.

I peered through a gap in the throng of bodies and saw two men standing on either side of a table. They seemed engaged in a glaring war. Their elbows were placed on the table, and their hands were clasped together tightly. At the judge’s signal, their muscles flexed.

I called it a contest of strength, but it’s actually just an arm-wrestling contest. I considered having contestants lift bags of rice like agricultural high school students do for field day, but our country doesn’t cultivate rice, so I gave up on that idea. Bags of flour also look heavy, but it feels different somehow... I was anxious that arm wrestling wouldn’t be enough to liven things up, but it seems my worries were unfounded. I’m almost appalled by how worked up everyone is.

“So far, it’s proceeding without any issues,” Klaus said. He stood next to me and surveyed the area.

“Yes, but stay alert just in case,” I replied.

“Understood.” He nodded and called over the knight in charge of the security for the contest of strength.

“Lord Franz, it may be difficult because there are so many people, but—”

“Yes, I’ll search for them,” he replied before I could finish my request. He was already scanning the vicinity for Duke Schletter’s retainer. He swept the crowd with a sharp gaze that was out of place in the merry mood of a festival. Following his lead, I also kept an eye out for any suspicious individuals.

Suddenly, our surroundings stirred into a commotion. The atmosphere was still boisterous, but it was clearly of a different quality than the earlier tumult. The jovial clamor had vanished, replaced by rapidly spreading consternation. I tried to investigate what was happening, but I couldn’t see past the wall of people. My knights protected me and led me to a position from which I could finally see the match.

My eyes widened in shock.

A match was about to start, but the two men sandwiching the table, along with the judge, were all staring at another man. This new fellow seemed to be a last-minute entrant. That was fine according to the rules. The villagers had suggested we allow participation without advance registration since it would be more exciting that way. However, this individual was interrupting an ongoing match.

The man was easily over two meters tall and had a colossal frame to match his immense stature. He was covered in hulking muscles, and his tan skin was covered in scars of all sizes. His sharp eyes glinted while one side of his thick lips was contorted up into a sneer.

He’s clearly not an ordinary person. Perhaps a mercenary or a soldier... No, he’s too ill-mannered. He’s grinning just like mountain bandits do in video games. I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. There are quite a lot of people who have scary faces but are actually very kind, but this guy’s obviously different. His dark, murky eyes and vile smile are blatantly broadcasting the evil intention of “I’m here to destroy.” I wouldn’t be surprised if he broke his opponent’s arm.

“I knew it! They’re causing a disturbance!” Lord Franz exclaimed in a low, hoarse voice, followed by the sound of gnashing teeth. “I’ll get rid of him.” He was about to push his way forward through the crowd, but I grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Wait,” I said.

“Huh?”

“It’ll be fine.”

“Um... What?” His confused gaze flickered between me and my grip on his wrist.

“Sorry, that was untoward of me,” I apologized and released him.

“Not at all,” he replied in a small voice. He looked down and rubbed the spot where I’d held him as though he were checking that it was okay.

“Oh dear, did I hurt you?” I asked.

“N-No. Not at all... M-More importantly, why did you say it’ll be fine?” He raised his head. He was red around his eyes and at the tip of his well-sculpted nose.

Does he dislike women? I’m really sorry about that... I mentally apologized again. “Because he’s probably here.”

“He?” Lord Franz said dubiously.

“You accept challengers, right? Then take me on for size!” the last-minute participant roared over Lord Franz’s voice. The large man shoved one of the current participants out of the way and slammed his elbow down on the table with a loud thud. He curled his finger as if to say, Bring it.

The young man he’d chosen as his opponent blanched and took a step back. The judge tensed up, peering around the area for help. At this point, the venue had fallen completely silent, and the mood was as icy as it could possibly get. A child sitting in the front row began to sob.

Right as the situation took a turn for the worse, a gallant voice cut through the gloomy atmosphere. “Then let me be your opponent.”

Everyone’s gaze was drawn to the speaker. Glossy black hair, swept back; almond-shaped eyes of the same color. Manly good looks that became more attractive with every year instead of withering away—he possessed a deep allure and a fragrant beauty, like vintage wine, that a young adult could never emulate.

The man shed his elegant, dark-gray frock coat and handed it to another man standing next to him. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his white shirt and rolled up the sleeves. His brawny wrists were incredibly sexy. With a light roll of his shoulders, he met the gaze of the dumbfounded giant.

He grinned and rested his elbow on the table. “Sorry for the wait. Let’s do this.”

In response to the new participant’s placidity, the large man lost his temper. “A skinny man like you?! Don’t go cryin’ to your mama if you get hurt!” he yelled, a vein popping on his forehead.

I thought this big guy had unusual features for a Nevelian, but as I thought, he was born elsewhere. How could he not recognize the face of our nation’s strongest soldier—our brave general whose name is well-known in neighboring countries—our famed Black Lion?

The brutish man roughly jammed his elbow onto the table with enough force to shake it and grasped Sir Leonhart’s hand. The judge, prompted by Sir Leonhart’s glance, snapped out of his stupefied daze.

“Ready... Go!”

Less than a second after the signal, a thunderous slam resounded through the air. The large man had collapsed sideways, crushed so thoroughly that he didn’t even know what had happened. The audience and I were in the same boat. What...happened? Everything had gone down so fast that my thoughts had been left in the dust.

A different breed of silence blanketed the venue.

Sir Leonhart’s brows were lowered in dismay as he looked at the judge. “You lose if a part of your forearm touches the table, correct?”

Forget about a part of his forearm—that giant’s entire arm is stuck to the table! It’s obvious to everyone who the victor is!

“Th-The winner is Sir Leonhart!” declared the judge.

A beat later, the venue erupted with the shrill screams of women and deep cheers of men. The large man finally realized he’d been steamrolled, and his face turned bright red.

“I-It’s not over yet! I just let my guard down— Whoa?!” The howling man had tried to grab Sir Leonhart, but before he could reach his collar, Sir Leonhart easily knocked him off his feet with one fluid sweep of a leg. The large man had no time to break his fall and tumbled to the ground.

“I’ll listen to your disgraceful excuses in the guardroom. You, take him away.” Sir Leonhart finished restraining the man’s arms and handed him over to one of his subordinates. He then turned to the horde of spectators who’d been watching with bated breath and flashed them a refreshing smile. “Apologies for the interruption. Enjoy the rest of the contest.”

Once again, cheers erupted from everywhere. He had handled the situation so smoothly that I was positively spellbound. Yeah, my husband is the best in the world!

“See? It was fine.” I proudly beamed at Lord Franz as though I had been the one to solve things.

“Sir Leonhart! Please shake my hand!”

“Me too!”

Sir Leonhart was about to make a dashing exit, but the crowd wouldn’t let him go so easily. He was surrounded by starry-eyed children begging him for handshakes, just like they would ask of a hero. Unable to refuse their affectionate gazes, he shook their hands with a wry smile and was rapidly buried in people.

Seeing him in such a bind warmed my heart. I broke into a smile. If they were nobles trying to suck up to him, he’d fend them off without hesitation, but he can’t dodge children fawning over him. I find that part of Sir Leonhart so adorable.

I want to help him, but things will get more complicated if I go. I have a feeling it’d only cause more hooting. I’m sure one of the knights will back him up eventually. Besides, I still have things left to do.

“Lord Franz, any sign of the...” I looked up at Lord Franz beside me, and our eyes locked. Surprised by the intensity of his gaze, I couldn’t seem to say the words stuck in my throat. The way he watched me... It was like he refused to miss even a single minuscule motion I made. I felt like he was going to stare a hole straight through me. It frankly made me uncomfortable.

“Um... Is something the matter?” I asked, puzzled.

After a long stretch of silence, he exhaled and smiled. “No, it’s nothing.” His gaze softened, and he finally relaxed.

What was that about? Is there something on my face? I tilted my head and rubbed my cheeks, but there didn’t seem to be anything there. Lord Franz simply regarded me with a tender smile, his eyes somewhat lonely.

I was hesitant to inquire about what that smile meant, and while I fumbled for what to say, he had already moved on, his expression tightening.

“I didn’t spot any of my suspects in the area,” Lord Franz answered, correctly guessing what I was about to ask.

“Then they may be in a different place. I doubt this issue is resolved, considering the commotion they’ve already caused,” I said.

Duke Schletter wouldn’t be satisfied with a ruffian causing a minor brouhaha at the contest of strength. Sure, the festival mood soured for a moment, but one large man acting violently isn’t enough to spoil the entire thing. Even if Sir Leonhart hadn’t been around, the knights on guard would have arrested him, and that would’ve been the end of it.

Even Duke Schletter should know that much. That was a slipshod sabotage attempt that couldn’t even be called a plan, not to mention that it was just one man. It would make more sense if their goal was something else, and that was just a distraction. Were they trying to gather the security here to do something elsewhere? What if they’re scheming something more malicious? Chills ran down my spine.

“Lord Franz. Let’s entrust this location to the knights stationed here and head toward the cooking contest,” I said.

He nodded, his expression hard. “Yes.” He’d likely reached the same conclusion I had.

The cooking contest venue was already bustling with people too. The contestants’ families and friends were shouting encouragement, and there were many young men taking advantage of that to cheer for the women they had set their sights on. It was more like an idol concert than marriage hunting.

Although they didn’t carry the same fervor as the contest of strength’s challenges, things were getting heated up in a different sense. In the simple kitchen area that was partitioned off with a rope, six young women were moving around without any rush. One was stirring a pot on top of a stove, one was shaking a frying pan, one was cutting vegetables into pretty shapes, and so on—each entrant was undertaking a different task.

The clumsy girl who almost knocked over her plates looks a little like Zaara... Must’ve been a trick of the light. I was extremely curious about what they were cooking, but I peeled my eyes away and scanned the audience.

I didn’t spy anyone suspicious at first glance, but I couldn’t be sure. There were too many people, and some faces were shrouded by hats. What should I do? Then, I noticed that Lord Franz was staring at something. Did he find Duke Schletter’s subordinate?

“Pardon me. I’ll step away for a moment,” he said in a low voice.

I nodded, and he disappeared into the crowd. “Klaus,” I whispered.

Klaus signaled to the man standing next to him with his eyes. The knight, disguised as a tourist, grasped his intention and followed Lord Franz.

I was curious about where they were headed, but I knew I shouldn’t look at them. With all of my guards escorting me, I had a high probability of being recognized. Any thoughtless behavior on my part could alert Duke Schletter’s side of Lord Franz’s presence and prompt them to flee.

I kept my gaze fixed on the makeshift kitchens. The competition was proceeding smoothly—many of the contestants had already finished cooking and were now plating their dishes. Zaara also seemed to be on the final step of adding seasonings. She stood there with her head cocked to the side as she looked back and forth between two bottles in her hands.

Hmm? What’s wrong? Don’t tell me she doesn’t know which one is sugar and which one is salt. No, it couldn’t be such a cliché reason.

“One minute left,” announced the moderator.

Hearing that, Zaara hastily chose one of the bottles and added its contents to her pot. Watching that unnatural series of events made a sudden thought cross my mind. Two bottles with identical-looking contents. Zaara cocking her head to the side in confusion. From those events, I can deduce...

It can’t be. No, but maybe... I studied the venue closely, and my eyes met one of the judges’. He sent a charming wink my way, and the tension left my shoulders.

“Lady Rosemary, it seems they’ve secured the target,” Klaus reported.

I turned around to see Lord Franz and the knight who had followed him escorting a man flanked between them. We moved a short distance away from the audience and faced each other.

“Lord Franz, is he the one?” I asked.

“Yes, he’s a butler who’s been serving our family since my grandfather’s time.”

The butler was a slender man in his sixties. His white shirt and vest looked rather high-quality, but his slicked-back white hair and mustache had no luster, and his skin was dry and crepey. Overall, he gave off a worn-out impression.

“Lord Franz. What in the world is this about?” asked the butler.

“Do you intend to feign ignorance?” Lord Franz replied.

“My word! What are you talking about? I simply came here to enjoy the festival on my holiday.”

The butler maintained his insouciant attitude. He obediently allowed himself to be arrested without attempting to escape, as if to declare that he had nothing to hide. His undue composure weighed on my mind.

“Playing innocent is futile. Even if you refuse to confess, your collaborators that we’ve arrested will spit out the truth eventually,” Lord Franz said.

People who work for money are quick to betray. It might be a different story if it were a large-scale, well-organized underground organization, though. But based on what I heard, Duke Schletter hired a bunch of thugs. I doubt they’ll protect their employer’s information if their lives are at stake.

And yet, the butler’s nonchalant attitude remained unshaken. “Oh, really now?”

Agitated, Lord Franz glared at the older man. “You! What the hell did you do?!”

However, the butler merely glanced at him. “What do you want me to do?” There was no fear or anger in his voice, only calm composure. “All I’ve ever done is follow the orders of the late master.”

“Grandfather’s orders?” Lord Franz narrowed his eyes suspiciously. The previous head of the Schletter household had passed away many years ago.

The butler nodded. “Indeed. He ordered me to protect the young master,” he said with a smile.

We were all speechless. To him, the “young master” doesn’t refer to Lord Franz. I wonder how Duke Schletter’s indolent and impulsive personality came to be. Based on the butler’s twisted smile, I feel like he’s partly responsible for it.

“You...” Lord Franz frowned, deep creases etching his brow. Whatever he was about to say, however, was drowned out by a commotion.

“What’s going on?”

I followed the audience’s gazes and turned my attention to the venue. The contest had already progressed to the evaluation stage, and a bowl of soup had been set in front of the judge. The sound of tableware clinking reverberated loudly through the air. The judge’s spoon was on their bowl, and they were looking down with their hand covering their mouth.

Lord Franz stood in a daze. Then, his eyes slowly shifted to the butler. “No, you didn’t...” he said hoarsely.

The butler’s lips quirked upward. When I saw that twisted smile on his face, Duke Schletter seemed to be standing behind him. We’d only conversed for a few minutes, but I knew the butler wasn’t acting on his own volition.

The feelings this butler is directing at me are those of Duke Schletter. So this is how much he detests me. He’s willing to walk across a tightrope, even if he risks losing his authority. He hates me so much that he wishes to bring me down no matter the cost.

Strange. I don’t feel hurt. Even though I felt down in the dumps when I learned that Duke Schletter was scheming something. I should be scared of being the target of someone else’s malice. And yet, I feel extremely calm right now. Maybe it’s because I’ve accepted that no matter what I do, I’ll never see eye to eye with Duke Schletter. I’ve drawn a line in my mind that he—that Duke Schletter—is my enemy.

“Do you understand what you’ve done?!” Lord Franz raged, grabbing the butler by the collar.

“I do.” The butler was still unruffled. If anything, he seemed to even be enjoying this. However, he froze when he glanced at me. First a streak of surprise, then he knitted his brows together in confusion. He stared at me like he was looking at something baffling.

“Duchess Prelier, I heard you were a woman with a heart as compassionate as a goddess...but it seems it was nothing more than a rumor in the end.”

I raised the corners of my lips ever so slightly without bothering to reply to his taunting. Caught off guard by my quiet smile, the butler peered at me with wide eyes. His composed expression morphed into a glower aimed at his sworn enemy.

“I see. So sacrificing one or two of your subjects is of no loss to you,” he spat.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.” I tilted my head slightly with the smile still pasted on my face, acting all the while like a sheltered noble lady. Then, I narrowed my eyes. “After all, there will be no sacrifices today.”

“What?” he uttered oafishly.

At the same time, someone stammered out, “Th-This is certainly an innovative flavor.”

I guided the butler’s eyes toward the cooking contest with my own. The judge who had slumped over the table was now looking up with a pained smile. The tense atmosphere in the venue immediately dissipated.

“Wh-What’s so funny?” Zaara—the soup’s creator—asked anxiously.

The judge’s eyebrows drooped apprehensively. “Err, I was just surprised. The taste is a far cry from what I imagined it would be. I think this is a groundbreaking new flavor that will bring a gust of fresh wind into the world of cooking.”

“Huh? But I just made a garden-variety vegetable soup that my mom taught me,” Zaara said, overly honest.

The judge’s troubled expression grew. “I see. In that case, you likely mistook salt for sugar.”

“I did?! I’m sorryyy!” Zaara screamed, setting off waves of laughter in the venue.

Her mother was shaking with anger, but everyone else was smiling. The disconcerted atmosphere from seconds ago was completely gone, and the festival’s merriment had returned.

“Impossible... No one could’ve withstood that—even the tiniest amount would do you in!” the butler cried, confessing to his crime.

Has he lost his cool, or did he never plan to hide the truth in the first place? I fixed him with a cold stare. “I don’t know how much you people despise our duchy, but we’re not so incompetent that we’d let a rat we know is coming slip through our fingers.”

Some might say we have too many talented individuals in Prelier. I don’t know what methods the butler used to slip poison into the seasonings for the contest, but I’m sure my agents or knights sniffed it out. They didn’t arrest him immediately and let him roam freely, all to collect evidence that he couldn’t talk himself out of.

Or maybe...this was one of Ratte’s mean-spirited jokes. He probably slipped onto the panel of judges because he wanted to see the butler’s flabbergasted expression... Oh, what shall I do if that’s actually the reason? Okay, let’s believe it’s for a different reason. Anyway, someone from the Khuer tribe has likely already investigated the poison behind the scenes.

I cast a sideways glance at Ratte, to whom Zaara was profusely apologizing, then looked away. I won’t know the answer to that no matter how much I think about it, so let’s just stop brooding for the sake of my mental health.

“You noticed? It can’t be... Then...what did I do all this for?” The butler crumpled to his knees. He was white as a sheet and trembling, but not out of fear for the punishment he would face. Apparently, failing to carry out Duke Schletter’s orders had shaken the very foundation of his existence.

As someone who had been born into royalty, I didn’t understand the feelings of those who served. I didn’t understand what it was like to be someone who carried out the wishes of their masters unconditionally, without regard for good and evil. But I did understand that the feelings of someone who’d lived decades with that mindset ingrained in them wouldn’t change so easily. Hence, I didn’t know what words to offer the butler. I had my knights restrain him, and we left the cooking contest venue.

Once we reached a secluded area, I turned around to face Lord Franz. “We will take custody of the suspect. Once you’ve made the proper preparations to receive it, I would like to hand over the evidence we’ve gathered to you. What do you think?”

His breath hitched. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. However, I’m sorry, but may I assign one of my subordinates to you?”

“Of course, but...” He trailed off, bewildered.

I understood why he was confused. Poisoning was a crime far more severe than disturbing a festival. As Duchess Prelier, I could write a formal letter of protest to Duke Schletter and start an all-out war. Furthermore, we had gathered physical evidence, the perpetrator, and the orchestrator, so there was no need to go out of our way and use Lord Franz as an intermediary.

However, even though the other side was clearly at fault here, our opponent was still a duke of the same rank as I. If we fought, my house wouldn’t come out unscathed either. Besides, while I had some choice words for Duke Schletter, I bore no grudge against the duke’s household itself. I’d only known Lord Franz for a short while, but I liked his character. His diligent and sincere personality merited my trust.

“I know you will handle him with integrity,” I said.

Lord Franz looked like he wanted to say something, but he pursed his lips tightly. He closed his eyes for a moment as though he were struggling with some internal conflict. When he opened them, he gave me a serious look that made me straighten my posture.

“The Prelier Duchy wishes to have a good relationship with the reborn Schletter Duchy,” I said. I indirectly implied that we had no intention of reaching an amicable settlement with the current Schletter Duchy.

Lord Franz wasn’t rattled in the slightest. He placed his hand on his chest and bowed like a knight. “I will be forever grateful for your compassion. I—Franz von Schletter—vow to never betray the sincerity and trust you’ve shown me.”

His dignified expression was that of a person who’d made up his mind. I was relieved that the peril and hesitation he’d exuded a few hours earlier was no more. The path that Lord Franz will tread going forward will surely be arduous. I hope he can forge forward without breaking or becoming corrupted.

Conflict for the Duke’s Son

I—Franz von Schletter—was born the heir to a duke. Though I was the duke and duchess’s only child, I had little memory of being loved. My parents’ marriage was a political one, and their relationship was so glacial that the word “estranged” sounded too warm a descriptor. It was for the best that they only saw each other a few times a year. And on the rare occasions they met, they would never even hold a proper conversation.

My father favored a hedonistic lifestyle and hardly ever visited our home in our domain. His wife and retainers were saddled with the management duties that should have fallen to him, the rightful feudal lord. Meanwhile, he passed his time being served by his followers and drowning in alcohol and young women.

My mother was a talented woman of renown who had married into the Schletter family to support it in place of my debauched father. She was strict on herself and other people, and she treated me not as her child but as the successor of the duchy.

Though I was lonely at times, I respected my mother and wholeheartedly endeavored to be acknowledged by her. I poured all my efforts into my studies, swordplay, and even socializing and etiquette—which I loathed. Fortunately, I was a fast learner, and I began to attract more and more attention.

However, any praise I received was always accompanied by pity.

Poor child, brilliant but unloved. He has a promising future. However, if he’s anything like his father, then who knows how he’ll turn out.

Since I was the son of a duke, no one dared to insult me to my face, but I knew people were saying whatever they pleased behind my back. I was still a child and hadn’t yet learned how to fend off their malice, so each little comment stung. Despite my frustrations, there was nothing I could do about it. I could only plug my ears and endure.

Those gloomy days passed one after another, but one day, I heard a different rumor. The gossipmongers who adored other people’s misfortune and scandals had found prey more tempting than I.

“I’ve never seen her talk to her parents before.”

“Apparently, the brothers are brilliant, but I haven’t heard a single thing about the eldest daughter.”

“Perhaps she rarely makes appearances because she has some sort of horrible defect.”

Remarks steeped with curiosity and malice were, with all due respect, directed toward the princess of our nation. Her Highness Rosemary von Velfalt hardly ever participated in social events and showed her face only minimally at official functions. That became the seed of speculation for garrulous gossipers to sow.

They’re so impudent, I thought indignantly, but I knew nothing of Her Highness’s character either. I’d heard she was beautiful just like the queen, but that was all. Though we were second cousins, I had never exchanged a single word with her. Her beauty and royal blood birthed jealousy. Nobles with too much time to spare gleefully fabricated lies about how her only redeeming feature was her appearance and that her parents had forsaken her.

Regrettably, I regarded this as someone else’s problem. Just as I could never rid myself of the label “poor child” no matter how hard I worked, she would always be called a “pitiful princess.” That was what I had assumed, but Her Highness skillfully changed her image completely.

First was the Dew of the Sea. It was a sort of preserved vegetable product rumored to prevent disease among sailors, and it debuted with explosive sales. Apparently, its efficacy had been proven. Its inventor was a certain noblewoman—a blonde-haired, blue-eyed lady who was the origin of the product’s name. Furthermore, the seller was a member of Marquis Eigel’s family, which had friendly relations with the princess.

That narrowed down the candidates considerably. Everyone wondered whether it was truly her, though there was no conclusive evidence. Then, as if to corroborate this speculation, a second piece of information accelerated the rumors.

When an epidemic spread in the Kingdom of Vint, our nation’s princess was the one to lend them her services to resolve the situation. This time, it wasn’t a dubious rumor of unknown origin—Vint’s royal family publicly announced it themselves.

The masses went wild and lauded the princess for her achievement. The gossip-loving nobles were forced to button up. No matter how imprudent they were, they couldn’t call someone who had accomplished a grand feat—one they could never have managed, even if they spent their entire lifetimes trying—a “pretty face with no talent.” Lady Rosemary had proven her own worth and silenced the twittering riffraff.

How exhilarating. How refreshing. It’s like the epic tales I used to secretly read as a child. My heart beat wildly as if it had happened to me, and for the first time in my life, I was too excited to fall asleep. I absolutely adored Lady Rosemary. She was a hero I admired.

When I heard she was returning, I couldn’t contain myself and secretly slipped out of our residence to see her. The main road leading to the castle was overflowing with people. Upon learning what our princess had done in the neighboring country, the citizens had rushed to catch a glimpse of her, and it was impossible to move freely.

As I watched the celebration unfold before me, I bitterly thought, None of you took any notice of Her Highness before. How superficial. And in the end, I’m the same as you.

Before long, a carriage drawn by two horses surrounded by knights rolled down the road. It was a sumptuous carriage engraved with the royal family’s crest. A girl waved at the mob from the window. It wasn’t my first time seeing her, but I was once more struck by her beauty.

Bountiful, wavy, platinum-blonde hair and blue eyes framed with long lashes; white porcelain skin accentuated by light-pink lips. She had become even more beautiful than when I’d seen her last. I felt I was gazing upon a portrait painted by a famous artist rather than looking at a girl around my age.

She was as unreachable an existence as the stars that twinkled in the heavens. I watched from afar, where I could see the clear demarcations of the sea of people, knights, and carriage, and I thought it was the perfect distance for me.

I did, at least, until a child riding on the shoulders of their father loudly yelled, “Princess!”

Lady Rosemary’s eyes went round, and after a beat, she broke into a wide smile. Her flawless visage had given way to a childish smile.

How can it be? What is that smile? People eulogize her as the nation’s most beautiful woman. She’s a hero called “benefactor” by the sovereign of one of the great powers of the continent. And she smiles like that?

“Cute...” I murmured hoarsely, my face dyed bright red.

It happened right as the carriage pulled past me. Our paths crossed for a fleeting moment. All it took were those few seconds for me to forget my place and fall head over heels. Nevertheless, there was no change to my everyday life. It was a futile love to begin with.

In terms of rank, we were a good match, but she was currently the jewel of the royal family. I, on the other hand, was the eldest son of a declining duchy in title only. Furthermore, there was my father. He only saw women as tools or trophies, and I was the son of such a man. The issue went beyond whether or not a match between us could come to fruition. No, if I truly loved her, then that was all the more reason not to reach for her.

Thus, while I merely looked on from the sidelines, Lady Rosemary married. Her husband was the Black Lion General whose name was renowned even in other countries. Our country’s pride and strongest knight, Leonhart von Orsein.

My heart was broken in an almost refreshingly perfect way. Though my chest ached, I was more relieved than anything else. The Black Lion General would surely protect Lady Rosemary from any enemy.

I figured the very least I could do was pray for her happiness from afar in a fashion that befit a milksop who couldn’t even confess. However, I realized that not even my secret wish would be granted. A year had not yet passed since Lady Rosemary’s wedding, and my father, who had only been interested in idle amusement up till now, unexpectedly began to poke his nose into managing the domain.

At a glance, this might have seemed like a positive change, but it was far from it. An ignorant lord meddling in management was nothing but detrimental. Our businesses that had stabilized pitched forward; our fortune declined in no time at all. Though my mother and I tried to stop him, he turned a deaf ear. The head of our household had the authority to force his decisions through, and as a result, we had to relinquish several of our businesses.

“Ridiculous! I can’t lose to that little girl!”

You’re the ridiculous one.

My father had been duped by a shady moneymaking scheme, and he crumpled up a deed that was now no better than scrap paper. I watched him coldly as he violently tore at his hair.

The little girl he’s referring to must be Lady Rosemary. I knew it. Father views her as his enemy.

Lady Rosemary had been bestowed a ducal rank during her wedding, and she’d since developed her domain by leaps and bounds. The world’s first large-scale medical facility was also operating smoothly in Prelier. It was garnering much attention alongside its research center, and I’d heard it had received a deluge of observation requests from every corner of the world.

Competing with a luminary of that degree was much too reckless. And yet, my father was convinced that he was superior to Lady Rosemary simply because of his gender and age.

Good grief. He’s beyond saving.

“I’ll show everyone that I’m better than that pretentious little girl. There must be something... I must have an ingenious plan somewhere. A business from another country that not even that little girl has discovered yet... That’s it! Don’t we have a workshop that produces unusual textiles? How about that?”

“We’ve already relinquished ownership of that,” I replied.

“What? What do you mean?!”

“Father, you were the one who said you found a buyer who’d purchase it for a high price. You transferred the rights away.”

There was a tribe skilled in weaving that lived in the northeast of the Kingdom of Flanmer known as the Valm people. The fabric they made was characterized by vibrant colors and extremely intricate patterns, and there were many enthusiasts of their work all over the world. The carpets they wove were durable and practical, as well as highly valued works of art.

However, as a trade-off, producing one required quite a long time. It took around half a year to weave one carpet with a complex pattern, so they couldn’t accept large numbers of orders. Our investment into that business hadn’t yet produced visible results, but it had been gradually gaining clients and en route to setting a trend. It had been a goose on the cusp of laying a golden egg. Father had sold it off as a desperate attempt to recoup his losses despite the efforts of my mother and me to stop him.

It’s no one else’s fault. The folly is yours to own. Why’re you bringing it up at this point?

“Wh-Why didn’t you stop me?! What were you thinking?!”

“I tried to stop you, of course. But you didn’t listen to my pleas, just as you aren’t right now.”

“Kuh! Y-You little... How dare you speak to your father like that!”

“Let’s talk after you’ve cooled off. I shall take my leave.” I turned on my heel and abandoned my father to his tantrum. When I closed the door behind me, I heard the sound of him destroying something, but I didn’t have the energy to glance back.

Why is he like that? Why am I his child? The same old questions whirled around my mind. As a child, I had sought my father’s love. I had wanted him to treasure my mother. I had wanted him to cherish his citizens and become a good feudal lord. However, I no longer desired much from him. There was only one thing I wanted from my father now.

Don’t do anything unnecessary. That’s all.

It always rains on days when you break out new shoes, and when you knock over an inkwell, it has a tendency to spill onto the most important document. Following that logic, when I wanted my father to not do anything unnecessary, the worst possible future was inevitable. Thinking this way was perhaps a form of escapism—a pointless exercise.

Very recently, I had discovered that my father was scheming something on the sly. I was late to notice because I had been preoccupied with trying to persuade my relatives to help me oust father from his position as head of the household. One of my subordinates that I’d planted among his people had reported that my father planned to disrupt the Prelier domain’s harvest festival.

Annoyance came before anger. Does my father not comprehend the current power structure? Prelier is the domain garnering the most attention in our entire country. Merchants from all over the world have gathered there, and it’s well on its way to becoming the next major city after the capital.

The feudal lord is the king’s daughter, and she is on favorable terms with her parents. There used to be rumors of discord between Lady Rosemary and her family, but those disappeared when the royal couple sent a mountain of gifts to congratulate her pregnancy.

Wealth, bloodline, backing—from every angle, she lacks nothing.

Her Excellency Duchess Prelier is currently the single most important individual in the Kingdom of Nevel. You do not want to make an enemy of her. That’s already common sense in high society. What does my destitute father think is going to happen if he publicly antagonizes someone like that? The answer is as plain as day.

All the high-ranking nobles will turn their backs on our house in concert. Then the lower ranks will emulate them. The Schletter Duchy’s demise is imminent. Why doesn’t he see that?

“I’m at the end of my rope.” I violently tugged at my bangs.

I can’t leave my father at large any longer. As long as my father... As long as that man is alive, someone will suffer. He irrationally went after Lady Rosemary and, as a consequence, bankrupted our family and dragged mother and our servants into his downfall. That man will rip all the people I care about into pieces with his own two hands.

Before that happens, I must stop him. I need to move as quickly as possible. No matter what happens to me, no matter what methods I must resort to, I will stop him.

I hadn’t been sleeping well ever since I’d learned of my father’s scheme. Though my body was fatigued, I remained wide awake, passing out only at daybreak. However, every time I fell asleep, I dreamed of murdering my father. Right before my blade severed his neck, I’d wake up with a start and feel immense relief that it had just been a dream. Then, I’d despair over what a spineless coward I was. This cycle repeated over and over.

Ultimately, I was unable to devise an effective countermeasure, and the day of the harvest festival arrived. I changed into commoner clothing that my subordinates had procured for me. Alongside my similarly disguised subordinates, we made for Prelier. We decided to split up to search for my father’s followers.

Unfortunately, I happened across Lady Rosemary on the way. I finally had the opportunity to hold a proper conversation with the person I admired, but I felt no elation. Instead, I wanted to die from guilt.

Lady Rosemary had been bestowed the title of the world’s first duchess regnant at a young age, not even yet twenty, and the path she had walked to get there surely hadn’t been easy. Behind her dazzling achievements, she must have endeavored and suffered an extraordinary amount.

Prelier’s development is a result of her efforts finally bearing fruit. Why does my father insist on interfering with Lady Rosemary? What right does a man who’s never experienced any hardship, one who’s spent his life larking about, have to obstruct her? Yes, he really must be stopped. I will deal with him.

“If something happens, I will take responsibility with my own two hands and—” But before I could finish, Lady Rosemary spoke over me.

“Let’s do everything we can so that nothing happens!” She sounded like she was at her wits’ end.

I felt like she had pulled my mind out of the mire it had been sinking in. Astonished, I blinked at her several times, unable to stop myself from staring. Her face, just like her voice, seemed disconcerted. I was confused, unable to understand why she was so on edge.

“You and I, and my subordinates too, are all here to ensure nothing happens.”

That’s right. I don’t want anyone else to become a victim of my father’s machinations. I want to protect my mother and subordinates who have toiled away thus far. And I don’t want to cause any more trouble for Lady Rosemary either. I hate to see innocent people be hurt. That’s why, if what I need to do is...

“We all have the same objective, so please don’t torment yourself over this alone,” she continued.

For a split second, I couldn’t wrap my head around what she’d said. When I finally did, I felt heat well up in the back of my eyes. It felt like her words were permeating my chest.

I thought I had to be the one to stop him. I was convinced that the optimal solution would be to dirty my own hands if it would resolve the issue, and I charged ahead. To tell the truth, I saw the worry harbored in my mother’s and subordinates’ gazes.

“Okay,” I replied. I looked down to hide the tears that threatened to spill forth. The voice I’d managed to wring out cracked pathetically.

Lady Rosemary must’ve noticed that I was about to cry, because she said, “There’s dirt on your cheek,” and lent me a handkerchief. I used it to wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes and raised my head.

Now is not the time to be crying.

I recommenced my search, and we decided to scour the festival’s highlights—the contest of strength and the cooking contest—for any trouble. The venue was teeming with people. Everyone was full of energy, their eyes twinkling with joy. Even I, someone who preferred quiet environments, found the hubbub not unpleasant.

However, due to a scoundrel’s intrusion, the jovial atmosphere was ruined in an instant. The disruption was probably—no, definitely my father’s work. It was a child’s responsibility to right their parents’ wrongs.

“Wait. It’ll be fine,” Lady Rosemary said.

I was about to push through the crowd when she grabbed my wrist and stopped me. A weak girl wouldn’t normally have been strong enough to hold me back. However, my body froze, and I couldn’t move.

To my chagrin, Lady Rosemary’s touch and warmth had flustered me. She was far too delicate and soft. I feared that I might injure her if I carelessly shook her off. I was sickened by my thoughts. How could I possibly break her? It’s not like she’s a poem scribbled by a drunk novice.

“Oh dear, did I hurt you?” she asked.

“N-No. Not at all.” Despite my disgraceful conduct, Lady Rosemary didn’t laugh at me. Instead, she showed me concern so genuine that I couldn’t bring myself to feel happy about it. She doesn’t see me as a man. I felt empty inside.

“More importantly, why did you say it’ll be fine?” I asked.

“Because he’s probably here.”

I wasn’t reflected in her beautiful blue eyes. Her eyes followed only one person, filled with only love and trust toward her husband. As if to answer her expectations, Sir Leonhart gallantly appeared and easily drove the ruffian away.

“See? It was fine,” Lady Rosemary said with a proud smile.

Her smile, lovely like that of a young girl’s, was one of wholehearted faith in Sir Leonhart. She wouldn’t have been able to wear such a defenseless smile if she had felt even a shred of unease.

It’s a crushing defeat. Lady Rosemary wouldn’t be the way she is now if Sir Leonhart weren’t the one standing by her side. I never thought someone like me could rival him, and my understanding has been renewed once more. It would’ve been futile, no matter how hard I struggled. Now that I’ve acknowledged that, I feel like I can finally step forward.

A torrent of events followed after that. I didn’t even have time to drown in the pain of my broken heart. At a different venue where the cooking festival was being held, I spotted my family’s butler among the audience. Evidently, he had poisoned the ingredients under my father’s orders.

Thanks to Lady Rosemary’s subordinates taking preventative measures, disaster was averted, but that didn’t undo the crime itself. Poisoning clearly went beyond disruption. The lives of commoners were of little value to my father, so he would never understand, but Lady Rosemary loved her citizens and would never forgive his folly.

My father had crossed the line. Not even the opportunistic sycophants who supported him would protect him now. The branch families and half of our relatives had already turned their backs on my father, and this incident would likely cause the rest to distance themselves as well. Now that he had earned the wrath of the gentle and sincere Duchess Prelier, no one would be willing to extend their hand to him.

I’ll oust him as head this time for sure. I’ll strip away all his poisonous aides and have him quietly live the rest of his days within our territory.

“The Prelier Duchy wishes to have a good relationship with the reborn Schletter Duchy,” Lady Rosemary said. She was magnanimously sparing the Schletter Duchy itself.

In that case, I want to repay her generosity. Even a hundred years from now, I will make it so the Schletter Duchy will be a faithful friend to the Prelier Duchy. I shall become the lord who establishes that relationship.

The Reincarnated Duchess’s Afterglow

Blazing flames lit up the night sky. Sparks crackled upward from the stack of logs arranged in a square lattice, rising into the sky as they warmed the air. The music that streamed endlessly around me was a traditional song passed down in this region. Because many of the musicians were inebriated, there was no harmony whatsoever. It was chaos. The keys and rhythms were all over the place, and people jumped in mid-song, ad-libbing nonsensical lyrics.

Nevertheless, it seemed like a lot of fun. Men and women, old and young alike—all were wearing bright smiles.

“Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”

I had been watching the villagers from a distance, and without me noticing, Sir Leonhart had joined me. He was now standing by my side. Both he and I had been busy today, and we hadn’t had the time to walk around the festival together. I had assumed we wouldn’t have any quality time with each other until tomorrow morning at the earliest, so I was over the moon to see him.

I quietly drew close to him, and he immediately hugged my waist, snuggling against me.

“Is everything already settled on your end?” I asked.

“Yes. We finished transporting them, and we’ll begin interrogations tomorrow,” he replied.

After our confrontation with the butler, the lead saboteur, he had fizzled out and become meek. We had assigned guards to keep watch for any rash behavior, but he was like an empty husk. I doubted he had the energy to think about any last-ditch efforts. The men employed for the crime had spilled the beans without any prompting on our end, desperate to lighten their punishment.

Once Sir Leonhart finished filling me in, I breathed a sigh of relief. Excellent. We’ve gathered evidence and testimonies that corroborate perfectly. I unreasonably demanded that Lord Franz reform the Schletter Duchy, so I feel like I need to help him however I can.

“That’s good to hear. We’ll be able to give him a little help,” I said without thinking.

Sir Leonhart’s hand, which was wrapped around my waist, twitched. Did something happen? I looked up. Our gazes locked, and his black eyes were fixed intently on me.

“Leon?” I questioned.

He suddenly turned away. It felt like he’d just snubbed me, and I was thunderstruck.

“Huh? L-Leon?” Panicked, I tried to peer at his face, but he gently stopped me.

He hung his head. “Sorry. Don’t look at me.”

In the darkness of the night, I couldn’t make out Sir Leonhart’s expression. However, based on his tone, he sounded somewhat dejected.

“Did I do something?” I asked anxiously.

“No,” he replied immediately, but he struggled to say the words that followed.

Silence settled between us for a few seconds. I patiently waited for him to continue as I listened to the lively music and laughter.

“I didn’t want you to see me looking pathetic,” he eventually conceded.

“Pathetic?” I echoed, trying to envision what that might look like. However, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t picture Sir Leonhart looking pathetic of all things. I mean, he doesn’t look pathetic when he’s dazed in the wee hours of the morning or when he’s stifling a yawn. Those are proof that he lets his guard down around me, and I’m totally smitten by it. “I can’t imagine that.”

“You indulge me too much,” Sir Leonhart murmured, finally looking back at me. His lips curved up into a strained smile, and he sheepishly said, “I’ll have you know that I’m a very pathetic man. I more or less know how you feel toward him, and I understand much hardship lies before him.”

Him? Based on what he’s saying, he must be referring to Lord Franz.

“I’m also well aware that you love me from the bottom of your heart.”

The bolt from the blue made me flush bright red.

Sir Leonhart’s brows drooped heavyheartedly. “Yes, I know it very well. I don’t doubt your love when a few words from me can color your cheeks so, and yet...I frequently get jealous over the most trivial things.”

My eyes went round. “Jealous? You were jealous of Lord Franz?”

Sir Leonhart nodded. “I logically know there’s nothing to be jealous of. But an unmarried man getting closer to you is no laughing matter. The fact that he got to walk around the festival with you, and the fact that you want to help him... Honestly, I can’t stand either one of those things. At the very least, I wanted to act composed on the surface, but I couldn’t hide it. I find that part of myself so very pathetic.” His tone was agitated, but after he vented all his bottled-up emotions, he seemed somewhat calmer.

I feel like he’s a little more talkative than usual. I was about to tell him he wasn’t pathetic, but I held my tongue. I may feel that way, but Sir Leonhart won’t be convinced. So, I pondered for a moment and said something else. “Leon, I saw you join the contest of strength,” I said.

The blatant topic change baffled him. “Huh? Oh, you mean during the incident?”

“I thought you were too attractive. You beat such a huge man in a flash, and the entire venue went crazy for you. I was proud to be your wife, but...I got a little jealous. ‘He’s supposed to be my Leon,’ I thought.”

His eyes widened in surprise.

Young women were ogling Sir Leonhart’s majestic form. Obviously they’d be captivated by a hero routing a villain in a fraction of a second. I also agree that he’s insanely cool, so part of me feels happy to have more kindred spirits. That being said, I also want to hog him all to myself.

“Do you think I’m pathetic?” I asked.

Sir Leonhart slowly shook his head. “No.”

“I suspect it’s probably—no, definitely my fault, but you’re always trying to only show me your cool side, aren’t you?”

He burst into a coughing fit. Evidently, he didn’t know how to respond to the sudden bombshell I’d dropped on him. Understandable. If someone accused me of only acting cute in front of Sir Leonhart, I can say with full confidence that I’d faint.

“You never demand anything unreasonable from me, and you barely restrict my actions. But that’s not because you’re neglecting me. In fact, you proactively grant my wishes. You never hesitate to verbally express how much you love me, and you cherish me above anyone else. I think you’re the ideal husband, not just for me but for all women.”

Sir Leonhart quietly listened to me speak. Rather than feeling pleased by my compliments, his expression was uneasy, likely because of my initial statement. He peered at me with the eyes of a dog waiting to be reprimanded, and I couldn’t help but break into a broad smile.

“But it’s okay to look bad sometimes. You don’t have to be understanding all the time. If I do something you don’t like, say so. If there’s something you want me to do, I want you to tell me without reservation.” As I spoke, I pulled out the item I’d kept hidden all day and pressed it into Sir Leonhart’s hand.

“A handkerchief?” he questioned.

“Unfold it,” I said.

He obeyed, revealing an embroidered flower. It was difficult to see its defects since the only light source was the bonfire in the distance, but if he examined it during the day, he would immediately see that it was a shoddy and disappointing piece of work.

“Did you make this?” he asked.

“They’re supposed to be baby’s breath flowers. I actually wanted to embroider something that would suit you, like a lion or a sword, but those would have been too difficult for my skills.” I had wanted to at least express my gratitude that he was always there for me, so I had decided to embroider baby’s breath flowers. My cadence quickened as I hastily explained my line of thought. When I finished, Sir Leonhart pulled me close. He hugged me tightly, burying my face into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry it’s not very good,” I mumbled. “I think I can do a bit of a better job next time.”

“Don’t be sorry. This is perfect... This is what I wanted,” he replied, relishing the moment.

I wrapped my arms around his back. I didn’t want Sir Leonhart to see my flaws either, and I desperately tried to act perfect. It’s still embarrassing, but little by little, I’m going to try to show him my shortcomings. Although, I feel like he’s already seen most of them by now.

“I’ve also prepared a flower for you. Will you accept it once we get home?” he asked.

“Of course! With pleasure.”

When we returned to our estate, Sir Leonhart gave me a bouquet of white roses and a hair ornament. It was a raden accessory with a rose motif that was indubitably Ayame’s work. He had secretly commissioned it from her. It felt like he had condensed all of my preferences into one item, and his gift spoke more eloquently of his love than anything else.

The Lord Commander’s Afterglow

Rose gave me an embroidered handkerchief. I’d had a hunch she’d remembered the promise she had made while drifting off to sleep. No one would’ve criticized her for reneging on such foul play, but she had still faithfully fulfilled my request. I took my hat off to her sincerity.

Although I felt guilty for coercing Rose to embroider me a handkerchief when she insisted she was awful at needlework, I was more happy than anything else. When I imagined the love of my life pouring her heart into each stitch for my sake, I was so thrilled that I felt a bit exasperated at myself.

“I’ve also prepared a flower for you. Will you accept it once we get home?” I asked.

Surprise took Rose’s face first, and then her lips curved into a bashful smile. “Of course! With pleasure.”

When we arrived at our residence, our servants welcomed us home. I signaled our butler with my eyes, and he retrieved the items I’d entrusted to him. There was no turning back now. I was starting to feel a bit skittish.

I’d spent the day patrolling the festival grounds, and I’d witnessed many confessions. I had found the sight of nervous youths holding out flowers to their sweethearts to be innocent and heartwarming. However, now that I was in the hot seat, I realized this: If I’m this nervous when I know that my wife reciprocates my affections, then those young men must’ve summoned all of their courage to do the same. After all, they didn’t know whether their affections would be returned. I commend them.

“Master,” said the butler upon his swift return.

“Thank you.” I took the bouquet from him. Nine roses gleamed with life, as though they’d been freshly picked, and their pure-white petals were spotless. I must thank our outstanding gardener and butler later.

“Rose.” I held out the bouquet wrapped in blue paper and white ribbons.

A shy red dusted her cheeks, and she gently accepted it. She buried her face in the roses as if she were trying to hide from the surrounding gazes. The tips of her dainty ears peeking out of her platinum-blonde hair were also pink.

“I don’t know why, but I feel extremely embarrassed,” she said.

“Me too. The formal act makes me shy for some reason.” I scratched the back of my neck to hide my awkwardness. We’ve been married for over a year now, and there’s even a child in Rose’s belly, so what in the world are we doing?

The gazes of our servants, who were watching over us from a short distance away, felt somewhat tepid. Rose and I looked at each other and then smiled.

“Thank you, Leon. I’m over the moon,” she said.

“Oh, um...” Sensing that the conversation was about to end, I panicked. There was still something I hadn’t given to her yet, but I hesitated, unsure how to bring it up.

Seeing me enter a pathetic tizzy, Rose asked, “Is something the matter?” She tilted her head to the side, perplexed.

“Actually...there’s one more thing I’d like to give you,” I said.

“There is?”

I took an accessory case from the butler and handed it to Rose.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Open it,” I said.

Rose passed the bouquet to her maid and opened the box. Inside was a raden hair accessory crafted into a three-dimensional rose. Depending on the angle, its petals changed colors from blue to green. Despite its delicate appearance, it had a certain impact to it that took your breath away. Even a layman would recognize that it was a stunning masterpiece.

Rose’s eyes gradually widened as she marveled at the accessory. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came from them. She held the deep-blue velvet accessory case in her hands and gazed at the hair ornament from many different angles.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured after a long period of silence, her voice thick with admiration.

The moment I heard those words, relief filled my heart. Though I knew Rose would like Miss Ayame’s work, I had still been on pins and needles, anxious that a flower-shaped accessory wouldn’t be received with the same joy that she might show for real flowers.

“I’m beyond happy.” Rose carefully hugged the accessory case to her chest and beamed at me. “Thank you, Leon. I’ll treasure this.”

She smiled with such sincerity that my heart pounded.

“I’ll wear it immediately starting tomorrow. Or should I save it for important occasions? Gosh, what should I do? I can’t decide.” Rose’s childlike excitement conveyed her joy, and it made me feel a little self-conscious.

“If you’re that fond of it, then it was worth giving to you,” I said with a nonchalant expression. This is bad. The thought drifted through my mind offhandedly, like it was someone else’s problem. I’m going to get addicted to this.

I had given Rose presents in the past, but she didn’t like expensive items. Or more accurately put, she felt guilty when given something expensive. Hence, I only gave her modest gifts outside of special occasions, mainly flowers or food with an occasional small sundry or stationery set mixed in.

Actually, I’m particular about the quality of the stationery I buy her, so it usually ends up costing as much as a jewel, but it’s fine—Rose doesn’t know that. I digress. I don’t believe the price of a gift corresponds to the depth of one’s love. And I think it’s sweet that Rose is delighted to receive cheap presents too.

However, this and that are separate matters. I still wish to give my beloved the finest things in the world. When Rose decided she’d attend a soiree, I was elated and thought, “Now’s my chance,” but my in-laws beat me to the punch. They did it to erase the unsavory rumors surrounding Rose, so I acquiesced, but I swore I wouldn’t concede next time.

It may not hold a candle to the royal treasury, but I have amassed quite a fortune myself. I’ve been saving since my days as captain of the royal guard... Well, mainly due to the fact that I lack hobbies and have nothing to spend on, but as a result, I’ve hoarded a hefty sum. I could form connections with a tailor if I asked my mother or Lord Julius for a favor. I don’t have any sense for fashion, but I could pick a design by discussing it with Rose. I’m sure she’d enjoy collaborating with me to pick out a style and colors that would look good on her.

“I can’t wait,” I muttered to myself.

Rose gave me a confused look, but she quickly concluded that I was referring to the hair ornament. “Hmm? You’re right, I can’t wait for tomorrow.” She jubilantly gazed at the accessory. It was clear she wouldn’t tire of it anytime soon.

Part of me wants to shower Rose with so many presents that the floors are completely covered with them, just like the king and queen did. However, if I actually did that, she would probably feel troubled. Besides, if I only focus on quantity, it would diminish the significance of each one. I would be inconsolable if I couldn’t see the way she jumps for joy and treasures a single gift from the bottom of her heart.

So, I’ll prioritize quality over quantity. I’ll gather materials of the highest quality and commission only the most skilled tailors while referencing the latest trends to create a dress that matches Rose’s preferences. The price tag will soar in leaps and bounds the more fastidious I am, but I have plenty of coin saved up. In the unlikely event that I get concerned about my finances, I simply need to earn more.

Rose will worry if my gifts are exorbitant, but it shouldn’t be a problem if I never mention it. I proved that much when I gave her that stationery. Opportunities will be rare, so I hope she’ll forgive me for being a little selfish.

Oblivious to my self-indulgent fantasizing, my wife was eagerly chatting with her maids. They seemed to be discussing how to style her hair tomorrow.

She’ll probably scold me if she discovers my schemes, I mused as I watched my exuberant wife.