The Damage Done
Curtis must have hit his head when he fell to the floor; he clutched his forehead, a look of sheer disgust crossing his face as he scrambled to sit up. It was probably because the floor was dirty. But Chloe had no intention of being considerate of his plight.
"Stay back!"
As Curtis tried to pull himself up by grabbing the bed, Chloe's fist flew straight at him.
With a sharp *crack*, Curtis's jaw spun aside. The man couldn't even scream; he just gasped for air.
Silence descended upon the room. Eventually, the man holding onto the bed slowly turned his head to look at her. His glare was terrifying.
Chloe yelled reflexively, "What was that just now?!"
"...Is that really something the person who did the punching should ask the person who got punched?!"
"No, Your Grace, why was your hand on my—" Chloe cut herself off, unable to voice the horrifying detail, and threw her hands over her mouth.
Curtis protested, looking profoundly wronged. "You're the one who hugged someone who was sleeping perfectly fine!"
"Excuse me? I did?"
Chloe was momentarily taken aback. But as she watched Curtis stand up and brush himself off with an expression of utter weariness, she began a rapid self-examination. Did I really do that?
Come to think of it, Curtis was the kind of man who would recoil in disgust even if he had tried to take advantage of his aide in a moment of fleeting lust. And now that she thought about it, she did remember hugging someone at dawn, thinking they were Iris...
"...I am terribly sor—"
But then, something else bothered her. Chloe stopped mid-apology and shrieked again. "You knew that and you just stayed there?!"
Tell me a lie I can actually believe!
But Curtis merely looked down at her, dusting off his hands as if he were the one who found the situation utterly absurd. "You were snoring."
"I was?"
"You always complain that I don't let you sleep. I went through a great deal of trouble to endure it quietly, fearing you'd curse me out for waking you up."
"What a tear-jerkingly noble reason..." Chloe muttered, half-dazed.
She would have pressed him further if not for the sergeant who, hearing the commotion inside the aide's office, knocked hesitantly on the door. "Are... Are you awake?"
But Curtis seized the opportunity and bolted out the door the moment it opened, leaving Chloe with no chance to interrogate him further.
According to her original expectations, she should have spent that evening in the aide's office as well. However, perhaps due to the punch she had delivered that morning, Curtis declared the Grand Duchess's investigation concluded with remarkable speed and returned to the Berk Ducal Residence.
Normally, an investigation would never have wrapped up so quickly. Even Lieutenant Noel was casting strange glances her way, clearly suspecting what had happened that morning. Damn it.
When she had tentatively asked, "You... won't be sharing a bedroom with me, right?" Curtis had snorted.
"How could I share a room with a Grand Duchess who punches me the moment she wakes up?" he retorted, before retreating to his own chambers and slamming the door.
Chloe felt a bit wronged. Honestly, if Curtis's story was true, wasn't it a mutual offense? You said you knew and just stayed there! You said you slept like that!
But then again, maybe it wasn't. She had slept soundly without waking up, even if it was a bit uncomfortable. What about Curtis? He had endured her presence despite his severe germophobia...
Did he actually sleep? She wasn't sure. Seeing him with his eyes closed in her arms, he must have fallen asleep. Anyway, assuming he did sleep, the moment he woke up, he was shoved off the bed and punched in the jaw.
...Was it really a mutual offense?
Regardless of Chloe's sense of injustice, the two of them had been terribly awkward around each other ever since, and they remained so now.
Chloe stole another glance at Curtis. Although he had tried to hide it slightly with his collar, a faint yellowish bruise still lingered on his jaw. Because his face was so exceptionally smooth and flawless, it was noticeable to anyone paying even a modicum of attention.
Sigh. She was paying attention to it for no reason. Damn it. Why did he have to look like that?
Chloe had firmly resolved to steel her mind from that day forward. She promised herself she wouldn't pay attention to Curtis Shan Berk, nor would she remind herself that he was her husband. She would live strictly as an employee holding the title of 'Grand Duchess'!
But!
Why is it so hard?!
A silent scream welled up from the depths of her soul.
Chloe barely swallowed the scream rising in her throat as she took in the man's face once more.
The late Queen Mildred had been legendary for her beauty. Even Chloe was familiar with her face. Although portraits of deceased queens were normally kept deep within the royal castle, Queen Mildred's beauty was so renowned that her likeness could occasionally be seen in rare newspaper illustrations.
Of course, when Chloe had looked at those illustrations in the past, she had merely thought, What a beautiful person. She had assumed she was simply a woman fitting to rise from a princess of a weak nation to the queen of a wealthy country like Ivanes.
But that was only because Chloe had viewed her face through a flat illustration.
To be precise, the face of her boss and nominal husband—who was the spitting image of the late Queen Mildred—possessed a daily destructive power that was simply too much to handle.
Some might call this ridiculous. And they would have a point. It had already been over a month since Chloe married Curtis Shan Berk, and four months since she became his aide. If his face was truly that devastating, shouldn't she have been flustered by him long before this?
Unfortunately, that had not been the case. Until very recently, Curtis had been nothing more than a "pretty piece of trash" to her.
Chloe was a thorough pragmatist. What use was trash, no matter how pretty? To put it plainly, did a boss's handsome face reduce her overtime hours? No. Did a boss's handsome face make military discipline any less exhausting? It might vary from person to person, but for Chloe, it certainly did not.
Thus, the current situation was incredibly baffling and distressing for Chloe. No matter how many times she resolved to keep her wits about her, the moment she began to perceive that face as belonging to an attractive man, there was no turning back.
She had intentionally focused on the affairs of the ducal residence under the pretext of driving out the butler, actively seeking the assistance of Madame Brun and Madame Tournier. Taking advantage of the Crown Princess's favor, she had even sat in on lessons occasionally while Lady Lotted tutored Julia.
Yet Curtis invaded her thoughts constantly—sometimes frequently, sometimes occasionally, or, depending on one's perspective, so often that calling it "once in a while" was a massive understatement.
Even after the investigation concluded, Chloe continued to use a separate bedroom from Curtis. The bed in the ducal residence was incredibly plush, and having a room of her own was still a source of joy.
Yet, unlike before, Chloe found herself unable to fall asleep easily in that luxurious, soft bed. Instead, as she lay awake, she kept recalling moments she had once brushed off as trivial.
The eyes of the man kneeling before her, the jewel glittering in his hand. The breath brushing against the back of her ear and his low voice as he tightened the laces of her dress.
The "damage" Curtis Shan Berk had inflicted upon her.
Of course, by "damage," she meant the kiss at their wedding.
After spending several sleepless nights, Chloe realized a startling truth: she could not remember a single second of that wedding kiss. What did it feel like? What was the sequence of events? What was their posture?
It was probably because the shock had been too great.
At the same time, Chloe felt a deep sense of lamentation. Unfortunately, it wasn't for any romantic reason.
I need to remember it so I can at least deduce what this is!
Indeed. Generally speaking, a kiss was the highest level of physical intimacy between two people who viewed each other with romantic interest. In a way, it was also considered the gateway to the next stage.
As the saying went: Could you kiss them?
Physical touch was, after all, the primary yardstick for measuring romantic potential. This held true even for high nobles entering arranged marriages. It was about the potential for romance, after all.
In any case, when imagining someone as a romantic partner, people often started by wondering, Could I hold their hand?
Chloe had held Curtis's hand countless times, so she had already passed that stage. Granted, they had both been wearing gloves, but that was beside the point.
Could I kiss him? Well, they had already kissed.
Then how was it?
...How was it?
Chloe hit a wall at this step every single time. No matter how hard she thrashed her bed, she couldn't remember. The only thing she could recall was the memory of brushing her teeth so vigorously she nearly snapped her expensive toothbrush.
And immediately following that memory, without fail, was the image of Curtis's cynical face as he deliberately chewed mint leaves right in front of her.
"Your charm lies in your foolishness."
Why of all things did she have to remember that?
Strangely, the moment those words crossed her mind, Chloe returned to reality with remarkable calmness. She would neatly smooth out the pillow she had been beating just moments ago, lie down, and chew over the other things the man had said.
"I plan to remarry as quickly as possible into a family of matching status, so keep that in mind."
"Warrant Officer. Let me make this clear: if you harbor any personal feelings for me, abandon them now."
Why was it that thinking of those words made her fall asleep so easily, making her previous agitation seem utterly foolish? Perhaps it was because they cooled her head.
Even before signing the marriage contract, she hadn't thought his words were particularly wrong. After becoming the Grand Duchess, she realized they were not only correct, but she also felt the absolute truth of them deep in her bones.
A high noble's marriage was a constant state of having one's worth measured by others. If one's status fell even slightly short, it was instantly seized upon as a weakness.
Currently, she was Curtis Shan Berk's greatest weakness. Not because of love, but because their statuses did not match.
Therefore, Chloe had no need to view him as a romantic prospect or overthink things. Even if the two of them took a step forward, neither stood to gain anything.
Of course, that didn't mean Chloe doubted Curtis was aware of her. At the very least, the flushed cheeks and flustered gaze she had witnessed were real. Chloe was observant enough to recognize that much.
If so...