In Other Words, That Sort of Thing
In other words, it was like this. In the military, people often tried to pair two close friends off simply because they happened to be different sexes.
And whenever Chloe was subjected to that childish teasing, her response was always the same.
“It’s true that I’ve been friendly with Warrant Officer Dubois since I was commissioned into the Royal Guard. But if every friendship is going to be suspected that way, that would be rather inconvenient. I do have standards, you know.”
As she said it, Chloe glanced sideways at Ezra.
Ezra looked as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only opened and closed his mouth soundlessly.
Of course he did. You damned bastard. He was the one who had put distance between them, going on about Your Grace, the Grand Duchess and all that. He could hardly turn around now and shout, Hey! I’m not that into you either!
“This isn’t suspicion…!”
“Second.”
Agathe tried to snap something back in the meantime, but Chloe cut her off at once and took two steps toward her.
The distance between them vanished in an instant, and Chloe saw Agathe flinch despite herself as she looked up at the taller woman.
The crown of short Agathe’s head barely reached the end of Chloe’s chin.
Seen up close, her face still had youth written all over it.
Twenty? Twenty-one? No, perhaps she was not even twenty.
Of course, it was not as though Chloe, at twenty-four, had any right to lecture her about being young.
But now that they were this close, Chloe found herself even less inclined to throw her weight around.
Not because Chloe was kind.
Agathe’s round cheeks looked far too childish.
She’s so tiny it looks like I’m bullying her…
Her brash tone and the way she sneered openly to Chloe’s face were certainly unpleasant.
But Chloe, oddly enough, did not find those things all that offensive.
The truly offensive things usually happened where one could not see them.
That, too, was something Chloe had learned after enlisting at a young age.
Of course, that did not mean she could simply let this pass.
“I understand you dislike me, Sergeant, but even when I was ‘Sir Amboise,’ I was still a warrant officer. I haven’t retired yet.”
“…I’m on leave right now, you know?”
Perhaps because she was angry, Agathe’s cheeks flushed faintly as she glared up at Chloe and shot back.
Chloe smiled.
On leave, was she?
“So right now, you are merely Lady Montpis, daughter of the count?”
“Yes! …Ah.”
The moment Agathe Montpis said it, her face went blank, as though she had realized her mistake.
That was precisely the part Chloe had been aiming for.
Of course, to anyone else, this would have sounded like utter nonsense.
It was a matter born from the Royal Guard’s unique, discipline-thrown-to-the-dogs military culture.
“A soldier who is not on duty is not governed by their position within the Royal Guard. But it seems you’ve forgotten that as of yesterday, I am the Grand Duchess of Berk.”
To explain this, one first had to discuss Ibanes’s class system, which was unusually strict compared to other nations.
After all, Curtis had married Chloe because of that peculiar conservative rule: if a member of a ruling family married a commoner, even their own status would be lowered.
Then would children without titles eventually become commoners?
Yes.
But nobles, naturally, wished to remain nobles.
In the end, untitled children turned their eyes to the Royal Guard.
Though it was only a single-life title, the Royal Guard granted knighthoods to individuals above a certain rank on the grounds that they protected the royal family.
But this created all sorts of discord with the military’s peculiar culture of rank.
For instance, one need only look at the relationship between Grand Marshal Victor and Curtis.
Grand Marshal Victor bore the title of Grand Count.
He was treated as someone who held a countship.
But Curtis, who ranked just beneath him, was a brigadier general while also possessing the grand ducal title he had been born with.
In situations like that, things became complicated in all sorts of ways.
In the military, command authority was the most important thing of all.
That was even more true in the Royal Guard, whose duty was to protect royalty.
In the end, the Royal Guard drew the line according to whether one was on duty or not.
A Royal Guard member on leave acted according to their family or personal title, but while on duty, the principle was that they obeyed their superior officers.
Of course, it was generally common sense to respect one’s superiors even outside duty.
As Curtis respected Grand Marshal Victor.
However, there were certainly Royal Guard members who did not.
Naturally, depending on the power of one’s family, there were frequent cases where a superior could not so much as raise their voice to a subordinate.
The power dynamics between Royal Guard members tended to form in quiet, unspoken ways, and that was the thing that had bewildered Chloe most when she was commissioned over from the navy.
She had adjusted by now, though.
In short, their military discipline was a complete mess.
Thinking about it this far, I can almost understand that man…
How must the Royal Guard have looked to Curtis Shan Berk when he came from the front lines?
Well, that did not mean Chloe felt inclined to put a generous interpretation on all those years of military self-discipline punishment.
More importantly, she had to deal with Agathe in front of her first.
Chloe smiled brightly.
“Lady Montpis, since you are on leave, would you prefer that I treat you as a sergeant, or as the daughter of Count Montpis?”
Naturally, whichever one she chose, Chloe’s position was far higher than Agathe Montpis’s.
Agathe’s face turned scarlet.
“Wh-who says I acknowledge you as the Grand Duchess of Berk?”
“Well. Curtis?”
Expressionless, Chloe mimed picking her nose.
Whether you acknowledge me or not, if Curtis Shan Berk acknowledges me, then I’m the Grand Duchess. What of it?
Now Agathe’s face went pale.
“How vulgar….”
“Unfortunately, someone vulgar like me happens to be the Grand Duchess. That has already been decided, whether Lady Montpis acknowledges it or not. As you know.”
At that point, Chloe took another step closer.
Agathe instinctively retreated two steps, then flinched.
She had been driven all the way to the wall.
“Because you are neither a Berk nor an Ibanes.”
The king had fumed over her marriage and had not attended.
But that meant that even the King of Ibanes could not deny that Chloe was the Grand Duchess.
The king acknowledged it, and Curtis Shan Berk chose me, so what exactly are you going to do about it?
Looking down at Agathe, Chloe reached out and planted her hand against the wall just past Agathe’s shoulder with a thud.
She saw Agathe shrink beneath the shadow Chloe cast over her face, but Chloe paid it no mind and tilted her head slightly as she looked at her.
“So, about that… Hm?”
Chloe, who had been about to say something, noticed that the outer corners of Agathe’s eyes were red and swollen.
She had thought it was makeup, but up close, the traces of crying were clear.
A great deal of crying, at that.
Why had she cried?
…The reason was obvious.
Somehow, all the fight went out of Chloe.
“Have you been crying?”
“…No, I haven’t?”
Agathe, trapped beneath Chloe’s arm, snapped back and turned her head away.
But thanks to that, Chloe could see her eyes even better.
The corners that must normally have been sleek and pretty as a swallow skimming water were swollen, and the inner edges of her brows were damp.
“Because of the Grand Duke?”
“What does it matter to you…?”
Her voice had lost far more momentum than before.
Her soft cheeks grew redder and redder.
Red, then pale, then red again.
The young count’s daughter’s cheeks were apparently not going to survive the day.
Good heavens.
A sigh escaped Chloe of its own accord.
In other words, she had cried until her eyes swelled because Curtis Shan Berk had gotten married.
“Do you like the Grand Duke that much?”
It was a question she threw out before she realized it, and the moment Chloe opened her mouth, she regretted it.
She had made a mistake.
What kind of question was that? Like asking whether bread was made from flour.
As expected, Agathe’s eyes flew wide open.
“Are you mocking me right now?”
That had not been her intention, but it had ended up that way.
What Chloe wanted to say was: I, for one, have no idea what that man’s appeal is, and I understand you’re in the Royal Guard too, so have you never received military self-discipline punishment? Didn’t you want to beat him up the moment he put you through it?
…At least she had enough sense not to say that aloud.
Chloe sighed.
There’s someone who adores you this much, so why didn’t you marry this young lady?
She wanted to ask that.
Of course, Curtis Shan Berk, who could answer that question, was not here.
Chloe debated what answer would be appropriate, then gave up and said whatever came to mind.
“Because your tears are wasted on him.”
“….”
Was that a little too much?
She thought so when she saw Agathe’s furious face, red all the way to the tips of her ears as though she had been rendered speechless, but it was already too late.
Before anything worse could happen, Chloe decided to finish what she had originally meant to say.
“Well, in any case, what I was trying to say is that Lady Basilure seems to be in a difficult position, so why don’t we each take care of our own business and be on our way?”
“…Why should I?”
“Then leave.”
Chloe removed her hand from the wall, clapped both hands clean, and turned away.
Agathe was still glaring at her, but it did not matter.
She was considerably more subdued than before, and it did not seem as if she would pick another major fight.
Chloe was confident when it came to this sort of thing.
The three months she had spent under the infamous Curtis Shan Berk had not been easy by any means.
Three months of fighting and negotiating with squads handed absurdly inadequate budgets.
Thanks to that, Chloe could tell from a person’s face whether they would get angrier or not.
“I said, why should I…!”
“You said it earlier, didn’t you? You asked if I was more important than Lady Montpis.”
More important than me?
That was what Agathe Montpis had said a little while ago, her chin arrogantly lifted.
“I don’t believe a person’s importance can be judged purely by rank, but it seems Lady Montpis does, so I’ll follow your logic. By your logic, I’m the more important person.”
“Ha….”
Agathe, who had looked dazed for a moment, twisted the corner of her mouth.
“For someone so important, you certainly do seem to be gathering an awful lot of cheap things.”
Chloe blinked.
What was this?
Did she not understand what I just said?
While the skirmish was unfolding on Basilure’s second floor—
To explain Agathe Montpis’s inexplicable confidence, it was necessary to point out that she was not the only uninvited guest who had burst into the jewelry shop.
It was not that Agathe had been unaware of Chloe’s presence.
She had simply come with someone “more important” than Chloe, who was upstairs.
And not only by Agathe’s standards, either.
“My apologies. It can hardly be proper for me to remain here when another person has reserved the whole shop.”
The Marquise of Flandre clicked her tongue as she looked around the first floor.
Standing before her, Camille bent at the knees and greeted her with perfect courtesy.
“Not at all. Your Grace, you have patronized Basilure for so many years.”
“Being an old customer is no reason to honor discourtesy.”