First Shot Wins
“Nothing could be further from the truth! I sincerely believe Her Highness the Grand Duchess is truly beauti—!”
The Grand Duchess smiled brightly.
There was a blade-cold chill threaded through that smile.
Only then did Philippe snap his mouth shut.
After all, he had just been icily accused of passing judgment on his betters.
“Curtis.”
“Speak.”
“You’re remarkably lenient in your own mansion, aren’t you? Considering you never make your subordinates say anything twice.”
Curtis, who had been watching the two of them the entire time, gave a soft snort of laughter and brushed a hand over his mouth.
“My mansion isn’t the army.”
“It isn’t the army, no. But it is your mansion.”
After saying that, the Grand Duchess turned back to the butler. Philippe hurried to add,
“I was absolutely not attempting to judge Her Highness the Grand Duchess. I merely meant to praise you.”
“For praise, you were rather good at insulting me.”
“Pardon? No, Your Highness!”
Philippe denied it again. The Grand Duchess only scoffed.
“A moment ago, when I offered you my hand, you started to kiss the back of it and then stopped. Did you not? And then you made a point of repeating that you were delighted to meet a lady whose hand you could kiss.”
Cold sweat sprang up along the butler’s back like rain.
“Th-that is merely a habit from when I customarily attend to ladies…”
“Which means you just insinuated that I am beneath even those customary ladies.”
“N-no, Your Highness. That was only…”
“Butler. I appreciate the reprimand about my ignorance of noble etiquette, but I’m not entirely ignorant.”
The Grand Duchess folded her arms and looked down at him.
Why was it?
She stood only three steps above him, yet she seemed terrifyingly high.
“I am familiar enough with the noble manner of indirectly pointing out another person’s flaws. And your phrasing was so excellent, it felt as though I were reading the chapter on insults from an advanced manual of refined rhetoric.”
The butler felt as if he might faint.
The Grand Duchess was right.
His phrasing truly had come straight out of an advanced manual of refined rhetoric.
But his opponent had just slapped him across the face with that very manual.
And then she went one better.
“Darling. It sounds to me as if the butler just sneered at Chloe for coming from an inferior family. Am I being oversensitive?”
It was phrased as a question, but it was all but decided.
Philippe paled and waved both hands frantically.
“Absolutely not! It was merely an idiom! I, Philippe Deltang, harbor not the slightest cloud upon my devotion in serving Her Highness the Grand Duchess!”
As he shouted, a sudden chill crawled up Philippe’s spine.
It was because of the Grand Duke, standing behind the Grand Duchess and watching him with a mocking smile.
And because of the deathly silence of the household staff surrounding them.
On the stage Philippe had prepared to make a fool of the Grand Duchess, the one who had become ridiculous was Philippe himself.
Surely she didn’t plan this?
Could the Grand Duchess be far more cunning than he had thought?
But realizing that did him no good now.
Besides, Curtis Berk, that beast of a man, was standing behind the Grand Duchess and staring directly at him.
So Philippe made another excuse.
“In my joy at serving a new mistress, my clumsiness led me to commit a discourtesy!”
“How unfortunate. It seems you’ll be serving another new mistress soon.”
“Pardon?”
Anyone could tell the Grand Duchess’s reply meant she intended to dismiss him.
But I was His Majesty’s former attendant! His Majesty personally placed me here!
Philippe grew confused.
Even the Grand Duke, who had always disliked him and kept him at a distance, had never once considered dismissing Philippe.
To arbitrarily cut loose a man the King had personally installed would be an open slap to His Majesty’s face.
Surely even the Grand Duchess could not dismiss him at will.
And yet…
Could she… actually do it?
Philippe’s eyes darted this way and that.
After being beaten down by replies so far beyond common sense, his mind was in complete disarray.
If she was that arrogant, it seemed entirely possible she might truly fire him.
And if she did, what would the King say to him?
Philippe’s face turned blue with fear.
“Leave it at that.”
The one who stepped in then was Curtis.
“No matter what, he is someone His Majesty arranged to place here. If we dismiss him like this, it may cause problems. We may even earn His Majesty’s displeasure.”
Philippe looked at Curtis as though he were his savior.
Ordinarily, he had cursed the Grand Duke as an ill-mannered bastard, but now Curtis looked like a rope of salvation lowered from heaven.
“But darling.”
“Speak.”
“Chloe’s feelings have already been hurt.”
“That is true.”
Is he… actually a rope of salvation?
Philippe grew uneasy as he listened to their exchange.
The servants behind him seemed just as uneasy, all of them holding still as mice and listening intently to the ducal couple’s conversation.
“Then shall we do this?”
“Do what?”
The rope of salvation smiled at Philippe.
“Butler. I do not wish to dismiss you, since to me that would be tantamount to insulting my elder brother.”
“Yes, yes. Thank you, Your Grace.”
It seemed he was a rope of salvation after all.
Philippe clasped his hands and bowed his head.
But if it ended there, he would not be Curtis Shan Berk.
“However, it is also true that you ruined my Grand Duchess’s first day as a newlywed. Apologize properly.”
“Of course I shall apologize! If you would only show me your generous merc—”
“With your body.”
“…Pardon?”
Philippe, who had been about to continue begging for forgiveness, stared up at the Grand Duke in utter bewilderment.
The Grand Duke twisted the corner of his mouth upward and continued.
“Have you ever undergone a service inspection?”
Philippe blinked.
A service inspection…
In other words, he had heard of it somewhere.
He vaguely remembered seeing officers who had been late to the Grand Duke’s summons wriggling facedown beneath that facade.
But surely he was not being told to do that now?
“That will do, won’t it, my wife?”
Philippe’s dazed gaze turned toward the Grand Duchess.
The Grand Duchess stuck out her lips in a pout.
“If I say it won’t, will you listen to me?”
“Other than dismissing him.”
“Hmm.”
The Grand Duchess tilted her head slightly as if considering it, then uttered something outrageous.
“Firing squad?”
Firing squad.
At those words, poor Philippe froze solid.
“My, my. My wife is in an icy mood. But he won’t be able to face His Majesty either, will he?”
Yet Curtis smiled as if she had said nothing especially remarkable and pinched the Grand Duchess’s cheek.
The Grand Duchess glared at him and answered unhappily,
“Then I’ll say I made a mistake because I was clumsy in my joy at meeting a new butler.”
It was exactly what Philippe had said a moment ago.
But who killed a person by mistake?
“What if I say my hand slipped, grabbed the pistol in my luggage, and I fired it in surprise? I’m former Navy, after all. Don’t you think people might believe it?”
Surely being former Navy was not meant to be used for that sort of thing?
How had the Navy come into this?
Philippe could barely keep his wits about him anymore.
An ordinary person might have wondered if she was joking.
But in the brief time he had known her, the things the Grand Duchess had said were not the words of an ordinary person.
That Grand Duchess truly seemed capable of shooting him and then saying, “Oops. My mistake.”
On the verge of tears, Philippe looked desperately at the Grand Duke.
The Grand Duke glanced at the butler and gave a faint laugh.
“What are you waiting for, Deltang?”
“Pardon?”
“If you don’t put your head down this instant, the Grand Duchess may shoot you.”
At that, the Grand Duchess looked startled and said, “Oh my.”
Why was that?
Before he knew it, Philippe had become desperate. Without any time to think, he planted his head on the floor and rose onto the tips of his toes with his hands clasped behind his back.
He struck his head down so hard there was an audible thud.
But he had no time to feel the pain before he shouted his apology.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness the Grand Duchess!”
“Oh dear.”
Looking at him, the Grand Duke turned to the Grand Duchess with an expression of regret.
“What shall we do, Chloe? The butler has already begun carrying out his service inspection. One doesn’t punish the same offense twice once corporal discipline has already started.”
“Ah, what a shame!”
At the Grand Duke’s words, the Grand Duchess sounded genuinely disappointed and stamped her foot.
Philippe, hands clasped behind his back, sighed in relief despite himself.
Whew.
He had avoided the firing squad.
But it was still too early to relax.
Soon Philippe was forced to confront the sight visible between his own legs.
The sight of more than a hundred servants staring at him, dumbfounded and aghast, as he stood on only his head and toes with his hands behind his back.
Silence flowed.
In the midst of it, someone trotted out into the center of the servants.
It was the Grand Duchess.
She lifted her index finger and thumb, aimed them at Philippe, and mimed firing a gun.
Bang.
Then she said,
“First shot wins. I forgive you.”
“…”
After a moment that felt like an eternity, Curtis opened his mouth.
“At times, showing mercy is the very virtue of one who stands above others. My wife has granted you mercy, so accept it with gratitude, Butler.”
“…Yes, yes, Your Grace!”
Curtis had no way of knowing what expression the butler was making right then.
Not that he was particularly curious.
Still, the Grand Duchess over there, teasing the butler, seemed to be having quite a lot of fun.
Curtis could not help but let out a soft laugh.
Then he extended his hand.
“As the Grand Duchess said, this is tiring and bothersome. Let’s throw all this away and go eat.”
With that, he escorted the Grand Duchess back inside.
The servants quietly bowed their heads, while only Philippe remained there, sweating coldly as he held himself facedown in the service inspection posture.
Philippe stared hard at the carpet laid over the stairs, eyes wide.
He felt as if he had aged ten years.