Declaration of War (1)
The knock—knock, knock—shattered the silence of the quiet office. Mikhail opened his mouth on reflex.
“Come in.”
Perfect timing.
He naturally assumed a servant was bringing the popcorn. But when the heavy door swung open, the person who appeared was not a servant holding popcorn, but Boris carrying a silver tray.
Chief Butler Boris paused for a moment. His gaze lingered briefly on Mikhail and Josepina sitting side by side on the sofa, then dropped downward as if he had seen nothing at all. With his usual impeccable stride, he approached and offered the tray to Mikhail.
“Your Highness, this is a letter from Her Highness Anastasia.”
Your Highness Mikhail, Seventh Prince and Grand Duke of the Far East Maritime Province,
I hereby extend a formal invitation to a grand hunting banquet to be held on the neutral estate of a fellow noble. Many distinguished guests will attend. I very much look forward to the opportunity for us to speak face to face.
— Anastasia —
Mikhail set aside his faint hopes for popcorn and lazily reached out to pick up the letter. “Ah.” After tearing open the wax seal and skimming its contents, a low sigh escaped him. “So I’ve been caught?”
At his muttered words, Laura, who had been slumped over the desk across from him taking a short rest, lifted her head. She glanced once at the letter in his hand, then at his face, and spoke in a quiet voice as if she had already pieced the situation together.
“Well… we were the ones who first rolled out the anti-drug policy, after all.”
Guess so.
Mikhail inwardly agreed with Laura’s assessment. Anastasia had noticed. She had realized who was behind the recent barrage of attacks aimed at her. Clement and Liliana had moved because of the goodwill Mikhail had built through the tourism special zone’s grand opening and his medical welfare projects. Even without that connection, the pure cause of “drugs are evil, so let’s drive them out” would have been more than enough to spur them into action. Dmitri had hated Anastasia from the start. Since he already knew she was the hidden backer of the drug cartel, simply tossing him the justification that he had gained new allies for the fight was sufficient.
Three massive factions, each with different goals. If one were to exaggerate slightly, it was Mikhail himself who had set them all moving toward the same target.
Still… she’s faster than I expected.
Mikhail was inwardly impressed. He hadn’t thought Anastasia would detect his involvement this quickly. She truly was the woman who held the empire’s social circles in the palm of her hand. He looked over the letter once more. Like any invitation, the real message was cleverly hidden between the lines. But its essence was a brazen summons: Let’s meet face to face and talk.
A large-scale hunting banquet inviting influential nobles from multiple factions. Moreover, the venue was a neutral noble’s estate quite far from the capital—the worst possible location for crude tricks like assassination or poisoning. If anyone tried such a thing with so many eyes and ears watching, even a member of the imperial family would be unable to handle the fallout. At least his safety was guaranteed.
The moment Mikhail set the letter down, the two people who had been watching him with worried eyes spoke at the same time.
“Will you attend, Your Highness?”
“It is dangerous.”
Laura’s question and Josepina’s blunt assertion. Mikhail looked back and forth between their faces. Unconcealable concern filled their eyes. Mikhail let out a soft chuckle. Leaning deeply into the sofa, he answered in a languid voice.
“It’s about time I saw my dear sister’s face.”
His tone suggested he was going to visit an annoying yet not entirely unwelcome relative.
A wave of murmuring rolled in like the tide. Countless noble gazes poured toward the three people standing at the banquet hall entrance, mingled with admiration, curiosity, and a touch of envy.
“So that’s… His Highness the Seventh Prince, Grand Duke Mikhail?”
“He really is as handsome as the rumors said. And who are the two beauties beside him…? To bring two such stunning women as his partners.”
“Haven’t you heard? Those are the chairwoman of the Valeriano Merchant Coalition, Laura, and the famous Seventh Administrative Official. They’re the key figures who made His Highness’s businesses succeed.”
“Is this the first time he’s attended an event outside the Far East Maritime Province since the exile decree…?”
Mikhail paid no attention to the stares or the buzzing whispers. He glanced sideways at Josepina standing beside him. She was extremely tense, fidgeting restlessly. It seemed places this noisy were far from her comfort zone.
“Just bear with it a little longer. It’ll be over soon,” Mikhail whispered.
Josepina gave a tiny nod. Laura, on the other hand, was completely different. Her sharp cat ears kept twitching nonstop, as if trying to catch every sound coming from all directions. Unconcealable delight bloomed across her face.
She must be happy to finally be outside the Far East Maritime Province after so long.
Thinking that, Mikhail headed toward Marquis and Marchioness Asterhaji, the hosts of the banquet.
“Thank you for the invitation, Marquis.”
“Not at all, Your Highness. It is an honor that you would grace us with your presence.”
The marquis smiled warmly and bowed politely. His wife beside him curtsied gracefully as well.
“These are my right and left hands. Laura Valeriano and Josepina Jugashvili.”
Mikhail introduced the pair lightly. “And… it’d be embarrassing to say more, so I’ll stop there.”
At his added joke, the marquis and his wife let out soft laughs. At that exact moment, Mikhail felt a sharp pinch at his side. He didn’t need to look to know whose hand it was.
“Please enjoy your time, Your Highness.”
The moment the brief greeting with the hosts ended, people swarmed in like bees.
“Your Highness! I have long admired your name! The truth is, our company…”
“Your tourism special zone is truly magnificent! Might our family have the opportunity to supply goods…?”
Mikhail kept a suitable smile on his face and let their words flow past him. Then he addressed the crowd.
“Apologies, but I have someone I must greet first. Could you make way for a moment?”
At the prince’s courteous yet firm request, the people blocking his path reluctantly parted to both sides. Mikhail headed straight for the deepest part of the banquet hall.
Finding Anastasia was not difficult. She stood, as always, at the center of every gaze. Jet-black hair contrasting against snow-white skin, and black eyes that seemed capable of swallowing everything whole. Around her orbited countless nobles—men and women alike—like satellites circling a planet, all desperately trying to exchange even a single word with her.
Thank goodness Dmitri and Brother Clement are hammering her from both sides right now.
Otherwise, simply approaching her would have been nearly impossible. Mikhail clicked his tongue inwardly. As expected, every kind of flattery imaginable was flying around Anastasia.
“Your Highness, your dress today is absolutely dazzling.”
“I was deeply moved by the poetry collection you recommended, Your Highness.”
Mikhail cut through the wall of blatant, sticky flattery and walked right up to Anastasia.
“Pardon me for a moment.”
At his voice, the surrounding noise halted instantly. The nobles who had been flattering Anastasia turned to look at him with expressions that asked who he thought he was. Ignoring their gazes, Mikhail gave Anastasia a light nod.
“It’s been a while, sister.”
Anastasia slowly raised her head. A cunning, beautiful smile curved her lips.
“Yes, it has been a while, Misha.”
The moment her reply ended, the man standing beside her stepped forward. A slickly handsome man who looked like a professional gigolo—clearly Anastasia’s adult toy.
“It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace the Grand Duke. I am Guillaume de—”
Mikhail did not wait for him to finish.
“Hey.”
At the short, sharp word, the air in the banquet hall froze solid. The pleasant smile vanished from Guillaume’s face. Mikhail looked him up and down and spoke with extreme annoyance.
“Do I really need to know who you are?”
Guillaume’s expression hardened. Mikhail could see him clenching his fist in humiliation, but it was none of his concern. Even though her partner had been ignored and insulted, Anastasia’s expression did not change. Instead, she rose from her seat with an intrigued smile.
“Yes, let’s go somewhere quiet—just the two of us.”
She moved as if to naturally link arms with him, but Mikhail took half a step back to avoid her touch. The last thing he wanted was to catch some disease from touching a walking biohazard. Anastasia paused briefly, then laughed as if nothing had happened and took the lead. Mikhail and his two partners followed, along with Guillaume, who was still red-faced and struggling to contain his fury.
They headed for a small private room prepared on one side of the hall for discreet conversations. The moment they entered, Mikhail flopped down onto the sofa. Crossing his legs and resting one arm on the armrest in an extremely disrespectful posture, he stared at Anastasia as she sat down in the chair opposite him. In complete contrast to Mikhail, her bearing was elegant and refined. At least on the surface.
“So.”
Mikhail spoke first.
“Why exactly did my dear sister want to see my face?”