#046. Which Title Do People Remember Better
“See? Even Princess Blanche likes it.”
The Grand Duke truly looked pleased.
“Well, if Blanche says so… fine. Peach for the tea, blueberry for the dessert. What about the main color? Purple?”
“Purple? Oh, because of the blueberries?”
Lady Martina puffed out her chest proudly.
“Oh my, didn’t you know? Blanche likes purple.”
It wasn’t that I particularly liked purple. Just like I hadn’t refuted the claim that I liked peaches, I simply stayed quiet. There was no need to upset Lady Martina, after all.
“I see, so she likes purple.”
The Grand Duke brushed off her comment with his usual ease and took a sip of his tea before changing the topic.
“Right. Then whose name will be on the invitation sent to the Imperial Palace?”
“Pardon?”
We were still in the middle of discussing the party’s details. The sudden talk of invitations seemed to throw Lady Martina off, and she blinked in confusion.
“I mean the invitation. Will it be sent in my name, or in Princess Blanche’s? We’re going together anyway, so there’s no need to send two.”
“Oh… you’re coming?”
Her reaction was exactly the same as mine. So he was coming.
It would be enough for him to accompany me to banquets hosted by the Imperial Palace. There was really no need for him to tag along to a small, privately hosted gathering like this.
“My playmate is going—how could I not go?”
Judging from how he said it, this wasn’t just a one-time thing. While it was helpful for me—someone trying to solidify their position—to have the Grand Duke around, I still couldn’t understand why he would bother.
Regardless of my confusion, the conversation between the Grand Duke and Lady Martina continued.
“So please be especially careful in selecting the invitees. You know I dislike noisy crowds.”
Was he putting pressure on a nine-year-old?
“I was already picking only those who would get along well with Blanche, you know?”
As I was reeling in disbelief, the nine-year-old snapped at the eight-year-old.
“Don’t act like His Grace cherishes Blanche the most!”
What even was this conversation? Well, yes—they were children. But noble children weren’t exactly normal to begin with, were they? Especially not the daughter of a duke and a grand duke.
“If it’s not me who cherishes Princess Blanche the most, then who is it? She’s my playmate.”
“She’s my friend too, you know!”
The Grand Duke calmly lifted his teacup, smiling.
“Haha. Between a Grand Duke’s friend and a Duke’s daughter’s friend, which title do you think people will remember more?”
“That’s not fair…!”
At this point, I felt the need to step in before they actually started fighting.
“Lady Martina.”
I tugged lightly on her sleeve, and she immediately turned to look at me. Her flushed cheeks were puffed with frustration—it was oddly endearing. Honestly, she didn’t need to try so hard to be liked; she was already cute enough as is.
“There’s so much to decide… It’s a bit overwhelming. Can we figure out the rest later?”
It was a ridiculous thing to say—we hadn’t even finalized much yet. But as I furrowed my brows and put on a troubled face, she gave in surprisingly easily. Children really were easy to persuade.
“Ah, it was too much, wasn’t it? It’s okay, it’s okay. I just wanted to hear your thoughts—you don’t have to decide everything. If you want, I’ll take care of all the details.”
Lady Martina hugged me gently and patted my shoulder as if to comfort me. Honestly, I didn’t care either way. It did feel a little wrong to make a nine-year-old go through so much for me, though the adults in her household would do most of the actual work.
“Would you invite me to your home next time? I’ll try really hard until then.”
“Sure. Let’s do that. There’s no need to rush—just take it slow.”
Of course, we couldn’t actually take it slow, but I figured she was only trying to reassure me, so I nodded along.
“Well then, I’ll take my leave now.”
Despite a hint of sulkiness, Lady Martina gave a proper, respectful farewell. The Grand Duke remained seated and replied leisurely.
“You’re not going far.”
That wasn’t something one said without at least escorting someone to the door. Not only did he not go far—he didn’t even get out of his seat. I resisted the urge to click my tongue and stepped up to see Lady Martina off instead.
“What’s wrong with His Grace?”
From the Jasper Palace where I stayed to the main gate where the Martina family’s carriage waited, the distance wasn’t short.
For an adult, it might have been a leisurely stroll, but in this body, it would take all day to walk that far. So we took the palace’s internal carriage.
As soon as we got on, Lady Martina started venting about the Grand Duke. I could understand her feelings, so I simply gave an awkward smile.
Well, at least she waited until we were alone in a closed space. That showed some restraint.
“I heard he didn’t show up for a whole month. And now suddenly he’s clinging to you—what’s that about?”
“He said he was busy…”
Of course, the Grand Duke never said that, but I couldn’t very well agree with her or scold her seriously. This was the safest middle ground—muddying the topic enough that she’d lose her train of thought.
“Busy? Busy doing what? He’s a kid with nothing to do.”
It was an accurate statement—but coming from another kid with nothing to do, it was hard to take seriously.
“Anyway, next time, make sure to come without His Grace. He’s just a distraction. Not helpful at all.”
I agreed. One person was enough to flatter at a time. In fact, I hadn’t intended to meet them both today either, but the Grand Duke had barged in, and I had no choice but to seat them together.
And then he started picking fights with a child. What was even the point?
After a moment’s thought, I gently tugged on Lady Martina’s sleeve. She leaned in closer.
“Hm? What is it, Blanche?”
Lowering my voice as if worried someone might overhear, I whispered,
“I’ll try to sneak out as secretly as I can.”
Half of that was in case the guards nearby heard, and the other half was calculated—thinking maybe Lady Martina, despite being only three years older than me, might find it endearing.
Apparently, it worked. She stopped huffing and hugged me with a bright smile.
“Blanche, I’m your favorite, right?”
Then and now—I never understood why everyone was so obsessed with being the “most” or the “favorite.” If she were ten years older, I could’ve explained how futile it was to rank people’s affection. But she was only nine.
…Sigh. I really had mellowed out. The old me wouldn’t have let something like age slide. But now? I could tell I’d softened considerably as I whispered back:
“Yes. You’re my favorite.”
“Me too! I love Blanche the most in the world!”
It was a statement as pure as it was utterly unreliable—typical of a child. As always, I didn’t take it too seriously.
After seeing her off at the main gate and returning, I found the Grand Duke still waiting for me. The teapot had been changed—probably because the tea had gone cold.
“Keeping your guest waiting… How poor your hospitality is.”
Given that he was smiling, he clearly didn’t mean it.
So instead of making excuses, I asked,
“Did you really have to tease a child like that?”
He responded with the same relaxed smile.
“You do know Lady Martina is the oldest of us, right?”
He had a point. Even though he was very likely a reincarnator himself.
“You’re only one year apart.”
“But I’m three years older than you, aren’t I?”
I was about to retort that mental age was what mattered—until I remembered he had no idea I was a reincarnator. I shut my mouth.
After all, the only reason I had guessed he might be like me or hadn’t been surprised when I realized I was reincarnated was likely because he’d met others like us. So it wasn’t surprising that even after three years, he still didn’t know about me.
Should I just tell him?
I considered it briefly, then dismissed the idea. If I accidentally revealed that reincarnation was possible and it made him wary of me, it could cause problems. Maybe the only reason he was kind to me now was that he thought I was just a normal child.
“…It doesn’t matter that she’s older than me. Lady Martina is still a child. Was it really necessary to provoke her like that?”
His actions really had seemed nothing more than petty. First, he hinted at how well he knew me. Then, when she responded similarly, he went out of his way to flaunt that I was officially his playmate. It was immature and unbefitting of an adult.
“Jealousy,” he said smoothly, “is the fastest wind that carries rumors.”
