#112. What I Mean by a Comfortable Life
“So, they still judged that being the Grand Duke’s mistress is more useful than being a lady favored by the Empress.”
The words carried weight. No—there was a blade hidden inside them.
Griff hesitated before replying. This wasn’t a conversation he particularly wished to have.
If only we had spoken about this on the very first day of my arrival, I wouldn’t be feeling so conflicted now.
During the lessons that had followed while waiting for the reply, Blanche had proven to be quite a good student.
Her comprehension was excellent, and she didn’t engage in pointless power struggles. If Griff observed the proper boundaries, she never stepped over them either.
She wasn’t the type to cling affectionately, but as someone whose duty was to teach proper etiquette, Griff actually preferred such pupils.
And so, she did her best to answer positively.
“Your Highness, you mustn’t look upon the situation with such a pessimistic view. From what I see, you have every quality to become the Grand Duchess.”
That was sincere. More accurately, Blanche was someone who deserved to be the Grand Duke’s lawful wife far more than a mere concubine.
After all, she lacked the seductive allure or pliant sweetness usually expected of a mistress.
“Your consolation is well received.”
The girl smiled gracefully. Ah, yes. She truly could be the Grand Duchess. If only her circumstances were a little more favorable…
Griff thought bitterly of the kingdom’s diplomacy. The kingdom would never provide Blanche with the strong backing she needed.
“But Count, that is your assessment, drawn from teaching me and observing me.”
Her voice was soft and steady.
“The kingdom’s reply, however, was sent without knowing that evaluation.”
Her tone was gentle, her demeanor elegant, the perfect lady Griff himself had taught her to be—never betraying personal resentment.
“So my homeland still considers it acceptable if I become merely a mistress.”
Blanche’s unwavering gaze fixed on Count Griff.
Though her eyes curved prettily from her smiling face, the black irises within were icy cold.
“And that, I find terribly regrettable.”
Even Griff, a man hardened by years in court, found it difficult to open his mouth under such pressure.
What could he possibly say? As he faltered, the intense gaze that had pinned him down finally withdrew.
“But as I said before, this isn’t something I should be saying to you.”
For a moment, Count Griff felt a surge of gratitude toward Blanche—for recognizing the hardship of his position, caught in the middle.
“This conversation will only grow longer. I’d rather make my report directly. Do you think that can be arranged?”
It was a flawless excuse.
In truth, she was simply frustrated with the restrictions of exchanging letters through Griff as an intermediary—slow and stifling.
“But of course, it is also proper etiquette. And it would save you the trouble, wouldn’t it?”
Of course, she couldn’t say so bluntly. That would be undignified. A graceful pretext was necessary.
And Blanche’s chosen excuse was perfect.
It showed consideration for etiquette and kindness toward her subordinate.
“Your words are entirely reasonable.”
Since Blanche was closer in status and more directly involved, she would also be able to argue her case more effectively.
It was important for her own future, and also for determining the right direction for her education.
The King may have thought a Grand Duchess and a mistress were more or less the same, but the virtues of a lawful wife and those of a concubine were worlds apart.
“Summer break might be too soon. It wouldn’t be courteous to schedule a visit so hastily…”
Blanche lifted her glass and drank slowly—an impeccable gesture to control the timing of her words.
“Winter break would be best. Please inquire whether my homeland would allow my return then. As for the Empire’s permission, I shall secure that myself, so do not worry.”
Ah. Truly, she was a flawless pupil. Griff felt a shiver of awe at her impeccable etiquette.
And he also took pride in himself—for raising her social graces to such a level in so short a time.
Yes. Strategically, aiming for the position of Grand Duchess would indeed be wiser. That was Count Griff’s conclusion.
When summer vacation began, the very first thing I did was visit His Majesty in the northern domain to report on the term’s events.
After hearing my report, His Majesty reacted more calmly than I expected.
“You truly can’t seem to avoid conflict with others the moment you’re out of my sight.”
I knew I wasn’t exactly the most likable person, but this felt unfair. I protested politely.
“Your Majesty makes it sound as though I go around picking fights. That is unjust.”
“Yes, of course. You must’ve just been breathing quietly.”
I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or teasing me. I tried to put on the most innocent expression I could.
Not that I needed to try hard—it was the truth.
It wasn’t just this time. Generally, I minded my own business quietly, yet people somehow always found a reason to pick a fight with me.
I let my eyes linger on His Majesty, full of that injustice. He gave a faint, wry smile.
“Don’t make that face. I’m not saying you’re at fault.”
“Then what are you saying, exactly?”
“I’m wondering why you insist on shouldering all this, when it isn’t even your responsibility.”
He set down his teacup. The ice clinked softly against the glass.
“Why not just leave it to me? As you know, these matters always favor those with higher rank and greater power. Obviously, I’m better suited than you to handle them.”
His Majesty spoke with a calm, businesslike tone.
He must have known that if he approached me emotionally, I’d only push back.
Unlike his letters, his manner of speech now was deliberately casual.
It felt like being a hunted animal, with every escape route quietly blocked.
Yes. I still hated the feeling of being hunted. I clicked my tongue inwardly.
“I already told you—I’m even willing to make Lamore a vassal state and hand it into your hands. Why insist on taking the long, hard road?”
Before answering, I hesitated. My cup, unlike his, had no ice; the tea was still warm.
As I rubbed the heated handle, I carefully chose my words.
So as not to be misunderstood. So as not to let my true feelings slip.
“In this life, I just want to live more comfortably.”
“That is exactly what I am offering.”
“No… what I mean by a comfortable life…”
I touched the corner of my lips, worried it might look like a bitter smile.
“…is a life where I don’t have to take responsibility for anything.”
Truly.
I had no desire to bear the burden of an entire nation.
I didn’t want the weight of tens, hundreds of thousands—millions of lives depending on my single judgment.
If I could simply live only for myself—at most for one more, Tulla—that would be enough.
If it meant such a life without responsibility, I could endure a little inconvenience along the way.
“You don’t have to take responsibility. No one will demand such things of you.”
His Majesty’s voice grew sharper, polished with precision. I knew that tone.
It was the voice he used when political necessity was at play, when he wanted to guide the conversation exactly where he wished.
I straightened in my seat.
“I’ll provide everything. You need only enjoy the rights. Governance of the nation? Negotiations with leaders? I’ll appoint the right people to handle it all. Just think of it as your stipend lands expanding.”
Perhaps age had deepened the color of his eyes; they seemed bluer than I remembered as they fixed upon me.
“The only thing you need to do is speak your desire. Say the word, and it will be yours.”
His hand rested lightly on the table, tapping the center—not touching me, but as if to emphasize that my will alone mattered.
As if to say, If you don’t wish it, nothing will happen.
So I tried it once.
“I do not wish it.”
I gave no reason. Just that simple refusal.
Would it work? His Majesty regarded me silently, his blue gaze growing deeper—then he smiled.
“Very well. Just remember that you will always have a choice behind you.”
The response surprised me more than anything. I widened my eyes slightly.
“Do you mean… you’ll allow me to do as I wish?”
At that, His Majesty looked more exasperated than I did.
“To anyone listening, it would sound as if I always forced my will upon you.”
I didn’t retort, though part of me wanted to. My lingering loyalty stopped me.
His Majesty’s expression twisted strangely as he shot back—
“Think back to your very first campaign. Remember what I could do then.”
Of course, he hadn’t been able to mediate between me and my men back then. Because I had never spoken up.
“And you refused nearly every gift I tried to bestow.”
“In the end, I did accept most of them, did I not?”
“But you never accepted the position of Empress.”
The sudden thrust of those words stopped my breath in an instant.
