The Wedding Night Looms
"I have a question."
"Please, go ahead."
"Does my Grand Duchess have a habit of throwing people's words right back at them?"
Having just finished her meal at the massive dining table, Chloe looked up blankly. Curtis, who was sitting directly across from her, spoke the moment their eyes met.
"First the butler earlier, and now this. I've recently realized that almost everything I say eventually comes back to haunt me."
It seemed he had finally realized he was the original source of the remark about boiling ceremonial uniforms into stew. Chloe glanced around the dining room. Perhaps because of what had transpired between her and the butler in the courtyard earlier, the servants were moving with absolute, deathly silence as they cleared the table. Still, that didn't mean she had to watch her tongue. Setting down her fork, she replied,
"Shouldn't a decent human being live with the awareness that the words they inflict on others might one day return to bite them?"
"..."
Which was her polite way of saying he hadn't been acting like a decent human being all this time. Curtis narrowed his eyes, offering no reply. Utterly indifferent to his brooding silence, Chloe leaned back in her chair, basking in the afterglow of a truly magnificent meal.
That was delicious... It was astonishing how she hadn't realized it before, but the food at the Berk Mansion was absolutely superb. Has it always been this good?
Chloe had arrived at the residence a week ago. The estate's chef must have been diligently preparing meals for the guests in the annex during that time as well. But looking back, that past week had been anything but normal. She had been frantically busy preparing for the sudden wedding, and her nerves had been stretched to their absolute limit. No matter what she ate, it probably would have tasted like cardboard. But now that the tension had finally bled away, everything tasted different. Her little showdown with the butler had certainly helped whet her appetite, too.
"Philippe Deltang. He used to be one of the King's personal attendants. He'll be watching you like a hawk, just waiting for you to slip up." She had quickly realized the Grand Duke's warning was entirely accurate. It had happened when she tripped on the stairs. The servants had snickered loudly enough for her to hear, and the butler had offered a sly, knowing smirk. They had undoubtedly assumed that Chloe, bound by noble decorum, wouldn't be able to retaliate. But they were wrong. Experience had taught Chloe that in times like these, a direct, blunt approach was always the most effective.
Besides, the butler had a glaring weakness: he absolutely could not afford to be dismissed from the estate. If he were fired, he wouldn't be able to continue spying for the King. Chloe's calculated display of madness had paid off handsomely. Terrified that he might actually be sacked or even executed by firing squad, Philippe Deltang had ended up conducting a punishment drill on himself. In front of over a hundred staff members, no less.
"Well, the servants won't be trying any of their little tricks for a while," Curtis had chuckled as they walked back inside. Crushing her enemies made the subsequent feast taste all the sweeter. Naturally, she had savored every single bite.
The roasted duck they served as the main course was particularly divine... She hadn't been able to eat a single thing all day because of that wretched wedding. She had been so famished she wanted to swallow the soup bowl whole, but the chef's explanation had dragged on forever. He had bragged endlessly about how he had spent three whole days roasting the duck. Still, it was well worth the wait. The taste completely justified his long-winded story about how an emperor from a distant eastern empire had invented the dish to nurse his sick empress back to health. The combination of tender, succulent meat, perfectly crispy skin, and a sweet, rich sauce was enough to make even Chloe, who hadn't slept in three days, wide awake with delight.
The Berk estate is the absolute best. After vigorously clearing plate after plate, she finished off every last piece of the dessert fruit and felt a deep sense of bliss. She felt a bit shallow and easily swayed for finding happiness in something so simple, but as she ate the duck, she realized for the first time that this godforsaken marriage might not be so bad after all. This was high-class cuisine that money couldn't buy, after all.
...And I get to eat this again tomorrow morning, don't I? As this overlooked fact suddenly dawned on her, Chloe's heart began to flutter with excitement. To think I get to eat meals like this every single day just because I became the Grand Duchess! Besides, tomorrow's breakfast menu would surely be different, right? They wouldn't serve the same thing to high-ranking nobles two days in a row. She was completely full, yet her mouth was already watering again. Just then, Curtis spoke.
"Chloe."
"Cough! Ack!"
She choked on her own saliva, prompting a nearby servant to quickly offer her a napkin. Curtis stared at her with a lopsided look. Avoiding his gaze, Chloe stammered,
"Cough. You... suddenly called me by my name in front of others. It caught me off guard."
She had temporarily forgotten amidst the whirlwind of recent events, but Curtis was still a deeply uncomfortable person to be around. Moreover, after addressing her as "you," "Sir Amboise," or "Grand Duchess" throughout the entire wedding, his sudden use of her first name felt like a sudden ambush.
Is this an assassination attempt? Is he trying to startle me to death? That man was entirely capable of it. When Chloe stared at him with suspicious eyes, Curtis's narrowed eyes curved into a smirk.
"Why so surprised? You'll have to get used to it, my Grand Duchess."
Chloe briefly pondered which title she detested more: "my Grand Duchess" or "Chloe." It was a tie.
"I'll do my best, 'Curtis' darling."
The smirk on Curtis's face twitched. Chloe's mood instantly became twice as good as it had been when she finished her meal.
"But you know, Chloe doesn't find pushy men very attractive. In fact, sometimes she just wants to beat them up."
Yes, this marriage had another distinct advantage. She could occasionally provoke her superior—who was currently glaring at her with burning eyes while downing the rest of his wine—under the guise of showing affection.
"Are you referring to me?"
She offered a sweet smile.
"Of course not. I love you too."
Splutter. Curtis let out a muffled cough as he choked on his wine. The other servants didn't seem to notice, but Chloe heard it loud and clear. Naturally, her amusement tripled. She didn't miss the chance to drive the point home.
"You'll have to get used to it too, darling."
A full stomach certainly seemed to boost her combat readiness. To think she could utter such shameless words with such casual ease. After a long silence spent recovering from his coughing fit, Curtis finally cleared his throat and spoke.
"Starting today, you will be staying in the main house."
"I know."
"I've arranged for your room to be directly below mine."
The Berk Mansion consisted of one large main building and three annexes. It had originally been built as a summer palace not far from the Royal Palace, so it wasn't overwhelmingly massive. Of course, even so, it was incomparably larger than the tiny house where Chloe had lived with her siblings. The main building consisted of a four-story central hall, with the East and West Wings forming the two flanks. Curtis's room was on the third floor of the East Wing.
"So I'll be on the second floor of the East Wing."
"Yes. Though it might feel a bit cramped."
Adorned with numerous pointed, elegant spires, the Berk Mansion was beautiful, but it lacked practicality. Because so much effort had been poured into the ornamental roofs and walls, the interior was actually rather cramped. It had been designed that way because it was meant to be a summer palace used only during the warmer months. However, now that it was being used as a permanent residence, its layout left much to be desired.
"If you find the space lacking, there is also the room my mother used to occupy on the third floor of the West Wing. It's much larger, but personally, I wouldn't recommend it."
"Why is that?"
"There are no secret passages in this mansion."
Chloe blinked. Did I just hear that right...? Seeing her doubt her own ears, Curtis rested his chin on his hand and smirked, as if he had expected her reaction.
"It's completely unfit for royalty."
Only then did Chloe vaguely realize why the King had gone to such lengths to keep Curtis tied down in the capital under all sorts of pretexts. This mansion was the perfect place to execute an assassination. Curtis added, his face full of cynical amusement,
"If a fire breaks out, it's much better to jump from the second floor than the third, don't you think?"
The reason his personality is so twisted is so painfully obvious that I don't even know what to say... Chloe let out a soft sigh.
"That will be all for dinner," the Grand Duke signaled with a wave of his hand. Philippe Deltang, who had been anxiously waiting for his cue, scurried over and bowed deeply.
"Understood, Your Grace. Since it is your first night as husband and wife, I have ensured everything is prepared so you may rest without disturbance. Your baths have also been drawn."
Chloe's hair stood on end.
Their first night... their wedding night.