#105. To Put It Extremely
After shoving Count Grief into the guest room and sealing it off, I moved quickly.
No matter how much I dawdled, I had to have everything settled before dinner. I couldn’t afford to waste even a moment.
“Tell Tula to come to my room, and you all prepare for the guest.”
Normally, Tula would take the lead, and I wouldn’t need to add anything. But since I had to take Tula out of the equation, I could only hope the remaining staff would manage well.
“Yes, understood.”
After confirming the bowing maid had left, I returned to my room without delay.
The problem isn’t Count Grief.
What’s so difficult about dealing with someone of lesser rank and power than myself? Even moments ago, I had handled Count Grief flawlessly, despite knowing nothing about her.
The real problem is that I’m not dealing with a count—I’m dealing with a kingdom.
No matter how much I treat the empire like my home country, I am a citizen of Lamore Kingdom, the king’s daughter.
This means that no matter what I try to do, I need the kingdom’s permission.
To put it extremely, the king could recall me to the homeland at any time.
If one had any sense, they wouldn’t play such an extreme card, right?
If everything in life were so rational, why would I have struggled in the first place?
People sometimes make decisions that lead to losses simply because of emotion. That’s why “actual power” is meaningless. What really matters is legitimacy and symbolism.
Positions that allow final decisions, stamps used for approvals—those things.
It was the same in my previous life.
I could hold my head high because the one who determined my fate was His Majesty.
I was willing to die for him if necessary, but more importantly, he trusted me fully.
Because of that, even through endless slanders and accusations, I wasn’t punished or driven to ruin. That’s how I could keep my stubbornness intact for decades.
But unlike His Majesty, the king wouldn’t trust me, and I wouldn’t hand over my fate to the word of a stranger whose face I didn’t even know.
So I have to deal with Count Grief while also considering the kingdom’s follow-up actions.
Should I keep Count Grief in charge, or should I maneuver for someone else to come?
Would it be wiser to leave the count at the townhouse, or keep her with Tula? And so on.
Ah, I’ll need to get information on the kingdom too.
I really know nothing about it. How many children the king has, the power structure within the kingdom—things I haven’t needed to know as long as the kingdom ignored me.
But if the kingdom has decided to intervene in my affairs, these are things I must know.
Does Tula still have connections in the kingdom? The ones brought from the homeland were scattered, so they can’t be used.
Should I gather them again, even now?
As I mulled this over, a knock came at the door.
“Come in.”
It could only be Tula. True to expectation, she entered when I opened the door.
“Have a seat.”
She quietly sat in the chair in front of me.
“When did Count Grief arrive?”
“This morning. I didn’t even have a chance to send word.”
Yes, if there had been time, she should have notified me. That way, I could have prepared myself.
The fact that she didn’t—was it that she couldn’t, rather than wouldn’t?
“I see. And what about you?”
Was this a coincidence, or an ambush prepared knowing I come here every two weeks?
If she had such intelligence, she’d know His Majesty visited here too. Then she wouldn’t have been so hurried. So, probably the former, though one can never be certain.
I decided to keep the possibility open.
“First, I checked how the townhouse was managed and whether etiquette was properly taught. After I handled everything perfectly, I asked how His Highness was doing, and what her relationship with the Grand Duke is, and so on.”
Even in the midst of this, I couldn’t help but praise Tula for navigating Count Grief’s sharp gaze so well.
“Of course, you couldn’t be faulted on work matters. You were truly an excellent student. And the tea you made—did you brew it yourself? You timed it perfectly, letting it steep just the right amount.”
“Everything is thanks to His Highness’ guidance.”
Tula smiled faintly, then returned to her professional demeanor.
“When asked, I naturally answered what I didn’t know. While I was being questioned for supposedly not serving His Highness well, Your Highness arrived.”
“Old folks and their nitpicking…”
I clicked my tongue.
Talking endlessly about the private life of an old lord is proof they were not properly served, yet their complaints are absurd.
Tula’s eyes widened briefly at my unusually harsh remark but soon softened.
“Indeed. Do we know how long she will stay?”
“We’ll see at dinner. For now, she’s here as my etiquette student, so I can’t simply send her away.”
Either the homeland will order her return, or she’ll decide to leave herself. But first, I need to decide if I even want to send her away or keep her.
“Etiquette student?”
Tula knew perfectly well how flawless my manners had been since I was three. After all, I had been the one to teach her etiquette and rules from the start.
Seeing her expression change as if she’d heard the oddest claim, I couldn’t help but laugh along. Truly, who is teaching etiquette to whom? His Majesty would have laughed out loud at that.
“Also, depending on circumstances, you might be sent elsewhere, so be mentally prepared.”
“What? But if I’m not here…”
“Yes, things wouldn’t run smoothly. There isn’t anyone here capable of overseeing it all. But your safety comes first, so it can’t be helped.”
Even if Count Grief is my superior, I wouldn’t be overly stressed. But Tula—what about her?
Those strict about etiquette are masters at tormenting subordinates. I know well, having made my subordinates jump through hoops when necessary.
Rather than let Tula wither alone where no one can help her, it’s better to give up the townhouse.
“Thank you for your consideration.”
“It’s just prudent. Both sides should be prepared mentally, so I’m giving you a heads-up.”
Understanding that I wouldn’t secretly remove her, Tula bowed deeply instead of arguing.
“By the way, do you know anything about Count Grief?”
“No, I haven’t heard of her. As you know, I’m a commoner and was in charge of your upbringing, so I don’t know much about the kingdom’s nobility.”
True, especially since I was about to leave for the empire, there was little reason to interact with them.
“This might become a long-term affair.”
There’s too little information about the kingdom, and few ways to gather it.
For now, it’s better to postpone final action until I have more intelligence. Count Grief remains, and the next person to arrive might be easier—or more troublesome. I’ll decide when the time comes.
Good. I’ll keep Count Grief here and gather information on the kingdom.
Once enough is obtained, I can plan again. Ideally, I’d like to bring the count under my influence.
Whether her subdued demeanor is a blessing or a curse will be clear at dinner.
Having decided this, I let Tula go again.
“Now, go check the dinner preparations. I need to write a letter.”
“Yes, understood.”
As Tula left, I glanced at my desk. As always, letters from His Majesty and Paniya lay there. Instead of opening them as usual, I put them in my bag and opened fresh stationery.
If the townhouse were to be taken over by Count Grief, receiving letters here could be risky.
I wrote letters to His Majesty and Paniya. Both asked them not to send letters for now, as I would explain everything in detail during the break.
Thinking about my greatest pleasure being temporarily gone made my stomach twist slightly, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Blood ties have never been helpful, then or now.”
I sighed deeply, reflecting on the family that constantly held me back in my previous life and the sudden parallels with the royal family now intertwined with my life.
