#058. How Many Paths Are Left for Me to Escape from Your Hands?
“But this was prepared especially for Lady Martina, so please accept it.”
What a nuisance.
It was easy to imagine that the Grand Duke had made all sorts of plans for my future. But since I wasn’t responsible for whatever was going on in that head of his, I had intended to just play ignorant.
And yet, now he revealed that he’d been introducing me to his academic contacts.
That changes everything.
It means I now have to pay the price even for the plans the Grand Duke laid out for me. Look—even Lady Martina acknowledges that if I’m the one offering something, the Grand Duke must be top priority.
So this is how it begins: first you shoot the horse before taking the general. Before I knew it, the moat had already been filled in, step by step.
I forced a bright smile to hide the bitterness rising in my throat.
“It’s a bracelet charm. I’m not sure if it’ll suit your taste.”
Even after I encouraged her, Lady Martina didn’t immediately reach for it.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to accept this?”
She’d been brimming with hostility toward the Grand Duke not long ago. What made her so meek all of a sudden?
I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly the Grand Duke had said to her. Clicking my tongue inwardly, I gently took her hand.
“Of course. This is a token of gratitude for how much you’ve looked after and cared for me.”
Of course, that wasn’t true. I’m someone who believes results speak louder than intentions.
But if I didn’t say that, Lady Martina wouldn’t accept the gift. I had no choice.
“I see.”
Perhaps pleased by my little performance, Lady Martina let out a small smile and took the box. It looked like she planned to open it once she got home.
“I hope you like it.”
“If it’s from you, I’m sure I’ll love it.”
I certainly hoped so. We shared some citrus jelly and made small talk about the tea party that day.
To encourage Lady Martina, I focused on praising how dignified and excellent she had been as a hostess that day.
If I praised the event itself, she might credit others and feel less confident.
“Hey, Blanche…”
“Yes? Please speak freely.”
“Are you going to attend the Academy?”
Why was everyone suddenly so interested in whether or not I was going to the Academy? I was starting to get seriously curious about what exactly the Grand Duke had told Lady Martina. Surely it was just some light pressure disguised as casual conversation.
“I’m not sure… It still feels so far away.”
She had been gnashing her teeth at the Grand Duke not long ago, and now she looked completely deflated. If that’s not being under his thumb, what is?
Whatever I said would probably make its way back to the Grand Duke, so I had to tread carefully.
I didn’t want things to stay like this forever—I really did need to have a proper conversation with him soon.
“I don’t think I’d do very well at the Academy…”
No, what I mean is—I’m not going.
Maybe my vagueness was too ambiguous for a child. Lady Martina’s expression didn’t change at all.
“You know… Smart kids usually stick together, right?”
Did they? I tried to recall my past friendships. …I guess that might have been true.
“So if you go to the Academy, will you become better friends with someone else?”
The uncertainty in her voice made me swallow a bitter laugh.
She was right. In my previous life, I’d only formed relationships with wise, composed people who seemed to have unlocked the secrets of the universe.
“That won’t happen.”
But it wasn’t because I purposely chose those kinds of people.
More precisely, it was because people who didn’t fit that mold never stuck around.
They were the ones who distanced themselves first, saying someone as competent as me made them uncomfortable. Too perfect to feel human, they said.
So Lady Martina didn’t need to worry about me making new friends. If anyone drifted away, it would be her.
She was the only one who’d ever been kind to me without expecting something in return, but surely there were more compatible and enjoyable people for her out there than someone like me, who was so stiff and unfun.
Once she made her debut and settled into high society, she’d find new friends quickly.
I knew this—because I was always the one left behind.
“You’ll always be my best friend, Lady Martina.”
But I only said that because I’ve experienced it too many times—being close, being liked, and then eventually being seen as a burden.
Lady Martina was still not even ten years old. It was natural for her to think that this relationship would last forever. That’s the privilege of being a child.
So I just smiled, not bursting her innocent illusion.
*
Just how many people had the Grand Duke shared my life plans with? He hinted at them with Lady Martina… But did he also talk to the Emperor and Empress? The Dowager Empress?
Do I even have any paths left that I can choose for myself—outside of the ones he’s already prepared?
The thought made my fingertips turn cold.
I was so tired of other people deciding my life.
The only good thing about this second life was the freedom. No one had expectations for me, so I could do anything I wanted.
I was just a hostage—a child valuable only as a bargaining chip. As long as I stayed in that position, I was free to do whatever I liked.
As the Grand Duke’s playmate, my only job was to amuse him. It was never a role that required actual effort or responsibility.
But now, he was trying to chart my future. Trying to make me do something. Trying to keep my fate within the bounds of what he could control.
And that—I really…
“Your expression isn’t very good.”
A warmth, just slightly higher than my body temperature, touched my cheek.
When I looked up, I saw the Grand Duke’s face. Still round with baby fat, his intelligent blue eyes didn’t match his youthful features. His curly red hair covered his forehead.
Today was our weekly tea time. Ever since I’d heard that the Grand Duke had written the invitation list for Lady Martina’s tea party, I’d been waiting for this moment.
“Your Grace.”
I spoke, feeling like a blade of ice had pierced my chest.
“How many plans have you made for me?”
How many paths are left for me to escape from your hands?
That question had been nagging at the back of my mind since I heard it from Lady Martina.
No—since the day of the tea party itself.
Now, half of that long-held question slipped from my lips and scattered into the air.
The Grand Duke tilted his head, hand still on my cheek, as if he didn’t quite understand the question.
But despite the innocent face, the answer that flowed from his lips was unnervingly smooth.
“There’s the Academy, the knight school, the path to becoming a socialite, the option of going north with me for a peaceful and free life, and the choice of returning to the Kingdom of Lamore. That makes five, I suppose.”
His answer rolled off his tongue like he’d rehearsed it.
Even though he should only see me as a six-year-old child, he responded to my question without pause. That meant he had spent a lot of time—too much time—thinking about my future.
Enough to answer a question like that without hesitation.
“…Why?”
I wasn’t surprised by the first four. Each of those paths still kept my life firmly within his grasp. It’s easy to imagine someone who enjoys controlling others would picture those options.
I didn’t know exactly what kind of place “the north” was.
But returning to the Kingdom? That was a different story. Even if the Kingdom of Lamore was intimidated by the Empire, putting physical distance between us was significant.
People who crave control over others hate being unable to watch them. They’ll do anything to keep them within arm’s reach, to monitor every move.
So why would the Grand Duke include a plan where I’m sent away?
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
He removed his hand from my cheek, brought it to his lap, and chuckled softly.
“Because I want to see if I can make you happy.”
My mind went blank. I blinked several times to regain my focus.
Just hearing the words—it almost sounded touching. If he weren’t planning my life for me, I might have cried.
“Do I look unhappy to you?”
“You don’t look happy.”
“If I said I’d figure out how to be happy on my own… would you believe me?”
Of course not. I’d never known happiness in my sixty-five years of life.
But he didn’t need to know that. I lied without blinking.
He smiled, eyes crinkling.
“No, that’s impossible.”
Damn. He saw right through me. What gave it away? I didn’t think I seemed particularly bitter about life. The Grand Duke said calmly,
“I told you before—I’m weak against people like you.”
Ah, that’s right… Could it be that he wasn’t interested in Lady Martina, but… me?
“I know your type. ─People like you can never be happy on their own.”
His gaze darkened. The temperature in his eyes dropped so low, I couldn’t tell if what I saw was anger… or something else entirely.
“Because you have no motivation to be happy.”
He slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again. The usual calmness returned—but I still felt like ice was crawling down my spine.
“Say it to me. Tell me you want to be happy.”
