Men Don't Attend Debutantes
Dinner time.
The four of us—my family and I—sat together around the table, enjoying our evening meal.
Of course, I hadn't laid a hand on any of the dishes set out before us. The table was laden with an array of mouthwatering delicacies, but one never knew what the world might throw at you. I ate only what I cooked myself.
I prided myself on my cooking skills, so I felt no regret about leaving the lavish feast untouched. I had been living this way for so long that my family no longer bothered to comment on it.
We were well into the meal when Mother called my name.
"Edward, you turn twenty this year."
"Yes, Family Head."
I answered with formal courtesy. Back on Earth—or even in the martial world of my second life—I might have spoken more warmly to a mother figure. Saying it like this made me sound like some bastard with three fathers, but still.
My mother in this life, Camilla Frigid, was the Grand Duchess of the North, wielding power that rivaled the Imperial Family itself. Beyond the strength of her house, her personal abilities were extraordinary. I could never casually call her "Mom!" or even "Mother!"
Well, I had tried it once.
Mom!
She had flinched, looking distinctly uncomfortable, so I switched to "Mother." Once I was older, I settled on "Family Head." Even that seemed to leave her faintly displeased for a moment, but as the years passed she no longer reacted—perhaps because the title truly suited her station. She had always been strict in keeping with her position. As her son, I had gotten off relatively lightly; my older sister Lirith, the eldest daughter, must have suffered terribly under Mother's private tutelage as a child.
"At twenty, don't you think it's about time?"
I already knew exactly what Camilla intended to say next.
"I've indulged your stubbornness since you were fifteen…"
The season for the debutante was approaching.
In this world, young men typically made their social debut at fifteen. The problem was that this was a gender-reversed world, so a debutante carried a meaning entirely different from the coming-of-age ceremonies of other worlds.
The absolute stars of the event were the men. They had to paint their faces and adorn themselves in every possible way simply to catch the eyes of the women. They attended in order to scout potential fiancées and future wives. Even if a fiancée had already been arranged, a man still had to appear so that other nobles would receive the public notice: This man is not yet formally betrothed, but he will be my husband—keep your distance.
Those without partners used the gathering to search for spouses and to draw closer to the opposite sex. In short, whether a man already had a fiancée or not, attending meant he would inevitably collide with women.
I would never set foot in that event.
In my previous lives, the women who had drowned me had never even shown the faintest hint of a crush. Most of them barely spoke to me; I could scarcely remember their faces. Yet they always killed me out of nowhere for the most absurd reasons. A gathering that forced me into contact with so many women was nothing more than planting death flags for some distant future—even if the disaster didn't strike on the day itself.
It might have looked pathetic, but every year the subject of the debutante came up I simply flopped onto the floor. First I claimed I was sick. Then I asked for more time. After that I just said I didn't want to go.
How would I dodge it this time? I was already twenty—too late, so I simply couldn't go.
"You're twenty now. It's still not too late. You will attend."
Damn it. Had she read my mind?
"That's right, Ed. Listen to your mother for once."
Father chimed in from the side, adding his weight to the demand that I attend. The pressure to force my participation was mounting, but I was fine. I had a reliable ally.
"Ed is still too young!"
"Lirith!"
As a child my sister had never dared talk back to Mother—she could barely even speak to her. Yet from the year I reached debutante age, she had begun raising her voice for my sake, determined to keep me from being dragged there against my will. What a wonderful sister.
I wanted to smile and thank her, but sadly I had sworn never to smile at any woman in this life. Still, I always made sure to thank her once the crisis had passed. This year, too, she was firmly on my side, and that was a comfort.
"This time is different! Her Highness the Imperial Princess has personally designated you, Edward."
"What? That pink-haired bitch?"
"Lirith! You must not speak of Her Highness that way!"
Huh… why her?
"She has specifically requested your attendance at the Imperial Debutante…"
What? Not the one hosted by our Grand Duchy, but the Imperial Debutante? That was only ever held when selecting a spouse for a member of the Imperial Family.
"Even so, no! Ed isn't ready! Right?"
"Yes! Exactly! I absolutely will not go!"
Forget it. Just like my sister said—I was never going. Time to flop onto the floor again.
"Ed! You're already frail—don't lie down on the cold floor!"
"H-honey, I think we should just give up!"
The moment I rose from the table and reached toward the floor, both my sister and father recoiled in horror.
"Ah—fine, just don't try to lie on the floor! Edward!"
In the end even Camilla declared surrender. Perhaps it was because of the time she had tried to drag me by force when I turned sixteen and I had rolled around on the floor. My condition had been poor that day and I had come down with a fever afterward, but ever since then the entire family panicked the instant any part of my body so much as brushed the floor.
"Thank you."
"Haa…"
This was my ultimate technique. Mother could only sigh and yield.
Great! Crisis averted again!
A man does not attend something as ridiculous as a debutante.
I will never set foot in a debutante—never!
Just as she had expected.
Lirith, the eldest daughter, had already guessed before dinner that Mother would urge her beloved little brother Ed to attend the debutante. Absolutely not. If that pretty, adorable younger brother made his social debut…
Big sister!! Kyaaaaah!
No! Ed!!
Absolutely not. Those wolfish bitches would come charging like wildfire. She had to protect her little brother from the clutches of those predators. Not even a single finger of some outsider woman would be allowed to touch him.
And just as she had predicted, Mother demanded during the meal that Ed go through with the debutante. If her little brother had wanted to attend, she would have had no choice but to watch through tears. But her adorable brother seemed to understand how many wolfish bitches were after him; he had refused every single year since he turned fifteen.
Ed himself said he didn't want to go—so why did Mother keep insisting?!
Mother, who had raised Lirith with such harsh severity since childhood, still made her uncomfortable. Yet for the sake of her precious little brother, Lirith could raise her voice. Of course, Mother never showed it outwardly, but she doted on Edward so fiercely that she usually let Lirith's loud defiance slide.
By this point she should have been saying, Well, nothing to be done—let's let it go again this year. Instead even Father, who normally stayed silent, sided with Mother and pressed Edward.
The reason became clear.
"This time is different! Her Highness the Imperial Princess has personally designated you, Edward."
Wh-what?
That vulgar pink-haired bitch had dared to designate her little brother?
The pink-haired girl known as the Imperial Princess of the Empire was the same age as Lirith, yet she had barely met her younger brother a handful of times. Edward almost never left the mansion, let alone the territory, so encounters with the princess were rare.
But on her tenth birthday she had visited the Grand Ducal residence with the Emperor. The moment that pink-haired bitch laid eyes on Lirith's adorable little brother, she had fallen for him. From then on she visited the Grand Ducal residence every year on her own birthday, even though they were hardly close. Even more galling, she also showed up for Mother's and Father's birthdays under the excuse of delivering Imperial congratulations. Above all, she never once missed Edward's birthday, always arriving with an enormous gift.
Of course her little brother did not seem to have given his heart to the pink-haired bitch. The world praised that girl as a beauty, so Lirith had fretted that Edward might fall for her—but her precious brother was no frivolous man. Even though she was the Imperial Princess, he never granted her so much as a small smile.
Yes. It was a smile Lirith herself had never received either.
She hated even imagining it. If he ever smiled at that girl—if he ever got involved with her…
Heh heh…
Of course that would never happen. Because—
"I absolutely will not go!"
—Edward was already preparing to flop onto the floor. How much must he despise that girl to be willing to roll around on the freezing floor?
"Ah—fine, just don't try to lie on the floor! Edward!"
Seeing that, Mother finally gave up. She was a woman whose expression never changed, yet in front of her little brother she became endlessly soft.
My adorable little brother, Edward. Big sister will protect you no matter what!
This year, too, she would be able to keep her little brother safe from the pink-haired bitch and all the other wolfish bitches.
Crack.
Upon hearing the report, Charlotte, First Imperial Princess of the Empire, unconsciously tightened her grip until the armrest of the chair she sat in shattered.
"Hahaha… a refusal to attend, you say?"
The report had not matched her expectations.
"Y-yes… Your Highness… that is…"
The steward delivering the news answered with cold sweat beading on his forehead.
"You did clearly convey that I personally designated him, correct?"
It should have been impossible. The Frigid Grand Duchess was not only close to the Imperial Family but personally on excellent terms with Charlotte herself. When Charlotte had casually expressed interest in the second son, the Grand Duchess had responded positively and had even readily agreed to cooperate with his attendance at this debutante.
"Y-yes… that is correct!"
Yet all that returned was a letter of refusal and regret.
"Ha… hahaha!!"
"Hiiiek…"
She rubbed her eyes and read the letter again; the contents remained unchanged. When she asked the steward once more, the answer was the same. Watching the Imperial Princess break into mad laughter, the steward could only tremble.
"Edward would never do that, would he?"
He must have wanted to attend. He had deliberately delayed all these years precisely because he hoped she would personally designate him for the Imperial Debutante. So then why?
No—there was only one reason.
"It's all because of that bitch Lirith!!"
That brocon in heat over her own little brother. Lirith, the so-called next head of House Frigid. It had to be that perverted bitch's fault.
"In that case, I have a few ideas of my own."
She would never give up. If she left him in the clutches of that brocon…
Big sister, we're siblings!
Heh heh, that doesn't matter, Ed~♡
No! Y-Your Highness!! Kyaaaaah!
Absolutely not. A twisted brocon was fully capable of committing the shameless act of incest and pouncing on him.
"Edward! Wait for me!"
The Imperial Princess decided to put the next plan she had prepared into motion—to rescue the second son of the Frigid Grand Duchy.