#055. Then Think Carefully About This Matter Too
“May I intrude for a moment?”
It was Lady Dwyers.
“Intrude? Nonsense.”
Once the Grand Duke granted her permission to sit, Lady Dwyers lightly bowed her head in courtesy to him and then turned her gaze directly toward me.
Yes, definitely from a scholarly family. Her straightforwardness, skipping all the small talk and getting straight to the point, was characteristic of someone who had spent their life immersed in study.
“Princess Blanche, if I may… I’d like to make a small request.”
“If it’s something I can do, I’ll gladly help.”
And I truly meant it. If I fulfilled her request, she would likely return the favor, and that could lead me to another stable source of bracken.
Since the royal greenhouse had been loaned exclusively to Princess Delaira for three years now, there were whispers of favoritism starting to surface.
If I could secure an external supply of bracken, I could divert the greenhouse to someone else and avoid unnecessary trouble.
Lady Dwyers swallowed nervously before asking carefully:
“Would it be possible… to meet Princess Delaira?”
It was a request I couldn’t readily answer.
All peace envoys were prohibited from leaving the imperial palace without the Emperor’s permission. If I were to arrange a meeting, it would mean inviting Lady Dwyers into the palace. And though I lived there, it wasn’t my house.
I couldn’t make such a promise recklessly. As I struggled for a response, the Grand Duke beside me—who did consider the palace his home—opened his mouth.
“That won’t do. The palace isn’t a visiting lounge, after all.”
At his words, Lady Dwyers’s expression visibly darkened.
“Ah… yes, I suppose you’re right.”
“But,”
Contrary to my expectation that he would refuse outright, the Grand Duke left room for possibility.
“We can’t punish a six-year-old princess for accidentally making overlapping plans, can we?”
Caught off guard, I hid my mouth behind my teacup to mask my surprise.
Lady Dwyers likely didn’t understand, but for a noble of the Empire to meet a foreign royal inside the palace required extremely complex procedures.
It wasn’t a matter of just running into Princess Delaira during a visit to the palace.
But the Grand Duke had implied that an overlapping appointment would not be punished—coming from him, that wasn’t a mere suggestion for me to abuse his favor. It was more like a promise: that he would grant the necessary permission.
In other words, this was a privilege that no one sitting here could possibly understand—except me. Even I hadn’t expected such a level of favoritism.
“R-right, of course.”
Lady Dwyers didn’t seem to grasp how enormous the favor was. Her face brightened, simply believing her wish had been granted.
Why the Grand Duke went so far for me was a question for later. For now, I had to wrap up Lady Dwyers’s request.
I gently set down my cup without making a sound and smiled gracefully.
“I’ll send an invitation. Would you care to join me for tea?”
“I’ll bring some Leblanc tea leaves when I visit.”
Unlike me, who was now deep in thought, Lady Dwyers smiled innocently.
As expected, that was the last cup we shared.
While Lady Martina skillfully managed the departure of the children to avoid a chaotic scene, the Grand Duke and I were the first to leave the Duke’s estate in the royal carriage.
“Leblanc? Lady Dwyers certainly recommended something odd.”
Once we were far enough from the estate, the Grand Duke remarked offhandedly. Was that really what stood out to him? Regardless, I followed his lead in conversation.
“What kind of tea is Leblanc?”
“It’s a blend of imported tea leaves from the Atan continent.”
Atan continent. Hearing the name of my past life’s land made my heart race for a moment.
“To be honest, I wouldn’t recommend it. It’ll probably taste too bitter for you.”
Bitter, for me? I almost laughed. Really. Was there even such a thing as too bitter for me? I had drunk far more bitter things in my past life.
“I see.”
Maybe my tone gave away my skepticism, because the Grand Duke added:
“I’ve tried it. It’s pretty bitter.”
But even with that, it didn’t change much. The Grand Duke had the mindset of an adult, but not necessarily the taste of one. He didn’t particularly dislike sweet things either.
Or rather, he didn’t seem to dislike anything in particular.
“I see. Thank you for letting me know.”
Whether it was truly awful or not, I’d have to taste it for myself to know. The Grand Duke, as if saying “suit yourself,” shrugged before changing the subject.
“By the way, what did you think of that proposal earlier?”
“If you ask like that, it makes me think you’re referring to Lady Dwyers’s request just now.”
“But you wouldn’t think that, would you?”
He wasn’t wrong. I sighed.
If it wasn’t Lady Dwyers’s proposal, then he must be referring to Lady Wellington’s offer earlier in the tea party—helping me enroll in the Academy.
But I had my own thoughts on that.
“Isn’t it impossible for me to enroll in the Academy in the first place?”
After all, I wasn’t just visiting—I was here as a peace envoy. More accurately, I was a hostage between nations.
A person like me enrolling in the Academy? That was laughable. Even leaving the palace required the Grand Duke’s special permission.
The Grand Duke smiled leisurely at my doubt.
“No, it’s possible.”
Of course, for His Highness the Grand Duke, nothing was impossible.
But still, there’s the matter of fairness. Others had been locked up for years without even going outside, and I’d be enrolling in an academy? That would definitely raise complaints.
I didn’t want to become estranged from my fellow envoys because of that.
“I know what you’re worried about. But would you be satisfied if all the complaints were directed at me instead?”
He sounded so confident. How could he be so sure of people’s reactions? Was he some kind of PR strategist in his past life?
Though I didn’t ask out loud, perhaps sensing my curiosity, the Grand Duke chuckled.
“I’ll go with you.”
I flinched and nearly recoiled but barely kept my composure as I asked,
“…You’re planning to enroll in the Academy?”
“I’m not—yet. But if you want me to, then I will.”
Why didn’t this feel reassuring, but rather burdensome? Was that just me? Honestly, it was overwhelming.
Whether I managed to hide my expression or he simply didn’t care, the boy continued speaking as if nothing was wrong.
“I believe the minimum admission age is thirteen. Most debutantes come out around fifteen. So if I debut a little early and say I’m attending the Academy to build a broader social circle—and bring my playmate along—it all fits perfectly. You’d just be the poor hostage swept up in the Grand Duke’s whim. No one would dare voice a complaint openly.”
I was speechless.
No matter how reincarnated he was, how had he prepared such a detailed plan in such a short time? That meant he’d been considering this long before Lady Wellington ever brought it up today.
He didn’t even know whether I wanted to go to the Academy. He never asked me.
A chill ran down my spine.
“So, do you need time to think about it again?”
No—I didn’t need time to think. Do I want to go to the Academy? Of course I do. It would offer me more experiences and higher education than just being cooped up in the palace.
But to nod along with this plan? That felt too dangerous.
I’ve always believed that everything received comes at a price.
Not because it should—but because that’s how the world works. If I don’t pay the price up front, it always comes back later, when I least want it, in ways I least expect.
There are two ways to avoid that: either refuse from the start, or pay immediately.
But what kind of price could I possibly pay for this? The Grand Duke was essentially sacrificing years of his life for me. And not the me from my past life—but this me.
I couldn’t find an answer. So I chose the former option.
“Well, I’m not sure. I’m still a bit young to enter the Academy anyway.”
He hadn’t asked if I wanted to go before the tea party, so I was sure this wasn’t his only plan for my future.
Even if I rejected this, he’d just come back with another plan and ask what I thought of that.
So for now, I simply delayed my decision. I could refuse later—after I had a plan of my own and the means to pursue it.
There was no reason for me to pay the price for a life plan I never even asked for.
“Fair enough. Then think carefully about this matter too—after all, we have plenty of time.”
