Chapter 62. Then I Should Just Show Them
Even if it was an affair, it wasn’t like both parties had spouses. All the peace envoys had come to the Empire alone, and none had gotten married in the past ten years.
The issue lay with the second son of Count Mastella—who was engaged—and Lady Starte from the Kingdom of Darlene.
I had no personal acquaintance with Count Mastella’s second son, but I did know very well that Lady Starte was not a thoughtful person. So, when I first heard the news, I wasn’t surprised at all.
Why did I think she was someone capable of such a scandal? Because ten years ago—barely a month after I arrived in the Empire—she had tried to poison me.
I let it slide back then, not wanting to cause a stir, but who tries to poison someone much younger than them without a clear grudge? That alone told me enough. I concluded she was an impulsive, emotional, and reckless fool.
Just because I saw it coming doesn’t mean I welcomed it.
If she was going to start a scandal, she could’ve at least done it discreetly within the peace envoy or made it grand enough that the information would reach me quickly.
But because I was still young, everyone tiptoed around the issue and tried to keep it from me. So, I only heard about it through the Grand Duke.
Imagine how I felt, learning of the incident from the very person who had generously permitted exchange between the imperial nobility and the peace envoys for my sake. You can probably guess.
Still, it wasn’t a grave situation, at least not beyond personal offense or damaged pride.
The Count’s son wasn’t married, and Lady Starte didn’t even have a fiancé. So if they broke up quickly, it could be brushed off as youthful folly.
That’s why I went to Lady Starte to speak honestly.
“Please take this opportunity to reflect and return to the right path.”
Her face when I said that—priceless.
“I’m not sure if you know, but Lady Melek, the fiancée of Count Mastella’s son, has requested a three-way meeting. If it proceeds, it won’t benefit you. So please, say it was all a misunderstanding, and that you’ll be more careful to avoid any further confusion.”
That would resolve everything. It’s not like she expected a happy ending starting a relationship with someone already engaged. This was her only option.
But Lady Starte, ignoring the obvious, acted on pure emotion.
“How rude, you little brat! Just because you’re going to be the Grand Duchess, do you think you’re someone important? Don’t be so arrogant and get lost!”
People driven by emotion rarely understand reason right away.
So I wasn’t surprised. I left, just as she demanded, hoping that once she cooled off, she’d reconsider my words.
But instead, it seemed my attempt only provoked her pride, and she didn’t end the relationship.
I’ve written letters, sent messages, tried every way to persuade her to break up, thinking she’d eventually get sick of it or be ashamed to be lectured by someone ten years younger—but she seems determined not to break things off.
And this is what has fueled the rumors of discord between the Grand Duke and me.
Why? Because despite knowing about the three-way meeting request, the Grand Duke advised Lady Melek to just call off the engagement altogether.
“I mean, either way, the goal is to stop the affair. I don’t get how people interpret this as conflict.”
When I explained the Grand Duke’s approach, even Fania grew worried, so I can imagine how easily this turned into gossip.
Still, I was a bit surprised that people think we’re fighting just because I want the scandalous pair to break up, while he thinks Melek should break off her engagement.
It’s not like those three people matter to us anyway—they’re essentially strangers. Why should we care what conclusion they come to?
I just felt responsible since I introduced the pair. And the Grand Duke only gave his advice because Melek kept pressing for a confrontation.
If it weren’t for that sense of responsibility, we wouldn’t even be talking about them. So for people to think this is proof of a rift between us—they sure have vivid imaginations.
“People must believe couples need to agree on everything, from start to finish.”
“I really don’t get it. Even politically, if spouses say exactly the same thing, it’s a huge disadvantage.”
Take this situation, for instance.
We offered different solutions, but regardless of whether Melek cancels her engagement or the scandalous pair breaks up, the problem will be resolved—by us. Isn’t that a win-win?
“You always make such perfect sense.”
The Grand Duke nodded deeply, clearly agreeing with me.
It was lucky we got along this well. Honestly, the Grand Duke would’ve been fine with someone else—but I had no other choice. He was my only option.
Still, no point brooding over that now. I decided to focus on the future.
“Then, let’s leave those hopeless ones alone. What are Your Highness’s plans going forward?”
Technically, I should call him “Your Grace,” but ever since his proposal, he’s insisted I just say “Your Highness.”
It’s a bit of a breach of etiquette, but since he’s the only one I’d be calling that anyway, I got used to it.
The Grand Duke picked up a piece of finger food and gently brought it to my lips.
“These rumors persist because people only hear about us—they never see us together. So let’s show them.”
He must’ve meant for us to show others this sort of closeness.
But… was that really necessary? Instead of obeying immediately, I tried a small act of defiance.
“…If I may, what if I fed you instead, Your Highness?”
Receiving food from someone else’s hand—it was something I’d never even imagined.
I never even fed my own daughter by hand. I was orphaned young, so I certainly never experienced it from my parents, either.
“You’ll have to get used to it. We’ll be doing this in public soon.”
I sighed deeply, looked up at the sky, and took a bite of the sandwich he offered.
Thanks to the Grand Duke’s excellent chefs, the sandwich was moist, flavorful, and filled just right—no ingredients falling out. Delicious.
It would’ve been perfect if I could just eat it myself.
“Do we really have to do this even in public?”
“This is the bare minimum to kill the rumors.”
Just how far have the rumors spread? Maybe I shouldn’t have accepted his proposal just because it seemed like a good deal. I had many thoughts.
“Don’t make that face in front of others.”
I didn’t even need to ask what expression he meant.
The “life is hard” expression. I know it well—I’ve been told I wear it whenever His Majesty acts unreasonably.
Funny, back then people used to say I had no expression at all. Now apparently I’m too expressive. His Majesty must’ve been extremely perceptive.
At least the Grand Duke’s request was relatively mild compared to His Majesty’s.
His Majesty once bestowed on me phoenix-embroidered robes (a symbol of the empress), a dragon-carved hairpin (a symbol of the emperor), and even gave me the authority to manage his personal seal. Compared to that, being fed a sandwich was practically cute.
Reminded of those long years of endurance, I steeled my heart.
“But Your Highness, you want to show this side of us before the debutante ball, correct? Isn’t that impossible?”
Until our official debut, we’d only be interacting with kids our age. And with them, we were already putting on a good show.
If we wanted to appeal to the adults, we’d need a new opportunity. But when would we ever appear in front of the adults?
“Oh, about that…”
The Grand Duke finished his sandwich before responding with that refined grace that reminded me of his imperial upbringing. Usually, he liked acting informal, so it wasn’t always noticeable.
“I’m thinking of doing the hunting festival preparations outside.”
By preparations, he didn’t mean organizing the event itself—but rather gathering the items we’d need, like clothes and accessories.
As expected of someone skilled in capturing hearts, he picked the most attention-grabbing method.
