A Most Inconvenient Encounter
It was only natural. He had reached marriageable age and then well past it without so much as one ordinary lover. A jewelry shop? He had never had any reason to set foot in such a place. And with storerooms packed full of spoils taken from countless wars, that had likely been even more true.
The war hero of Ibanes. The very man who had turned this jewelry shop upside down. Her absurdly illustrious half brother.
Grand Duke Berk.
“Then would that be me, Your Grace?”
And the man asking from behind him was Captain Noel Montpis.
The older brother of that Agathe Montpis, and Curtis’s aide and accompanying officer.
Of all people, in this situation, those two.
The Marquise of Flandre very sincerely wanted to press a hand to her forehead.
It was a truly embarrassing, truly bewildering encounter.
Half siblings they might be, but this was the first time the marquise had been face-to-face with Grand Duke Berk like this since the year he turned eighteen. They had never been close to begin with, so how uncomfortable was it to meet under circumstances this awkward?
“I heard your wife had rented the place. I meant to leave, but my companion...”
“You still bring Agathe Montpis about as though she were your niece. As an elder of society, Marquise, your fondness for the girl is quite astonishing.”
Curtis cut her off.
He had almost never behaved disrespectfully toward the marquise. Partly because she was his elder, but also because the moment Grand Duke Berk committed any discourtesy, the king would seize on it as an excuse to punish him somehow.
But this situation, in any case, was the marquise’s fault.
No matter how childish Agathe Montpis had been, it was the marquise’s duty as her elder to keep the girl in check within society. Moreover, they had trespassed upon a space Grand Duke Berk had reserved. In society, the tacit rule was that in such cases all responsibility fell upon the Marquise of Flandre.
The marquise forced herself not to squeeze her eyes shut.
And she made a decision.
Agathe Montpis. She had indulged her dear friend’s daughter for many years, but after today, she would tolerate it no longer.
“I am embarrassed this has become such an unpleasant meeting.”
Fortunately, Camille stepped forward with care.
“Still, speaking personally, I am pleased to have the honor of seeing you, even in this manner.”
An awkward smile rose to the marquise’s lips.
She had been a client of Basilure since she was a young princess. After the current king ascended the throne, even buying jewels became difficult, so she had not visited often, but her connection with Camille still ran deep.
Still, even Camille could not turn the atmosphere around.
Curtis asked coldly, “Then explain how my wife and Agathe Montpis came to be together upstairs.”
“I will explain.”
The marquise waved a hand and answered on a sigh.
It had been barely ten minutes since Agathe dragged the marquise into Basilure.
More accurately, Agathe had burst in alone.
Agathe had pestered the marquise to ride in the Montpis family’s automobile, saying they had recently acquired a new magic-stone automobile, but the machine was far too uncomfortable and strange in too many ways for the marquise.
And so the two of them came to the commercial district in the carriage from the Flandre Marquise Residence.
But the moment they arrived in front of Basilure, the marquise regretted not taking Agathe’s automobile.
Because of the press sketch artists and reporters camped out in front of Basilure.
“That’s the Marquise of Flandre’s crest!”
“Marquise! Have you come to meet the Grand Duchess?”
After a little confusion and back-and-forth, the marquise learned that Basilure already had a prior guest today.
If the marquise had been alone, she would have turned back without hesitation.
But Agathe was the problem.
At the word “Grand Duchess,” Agathe’s eyes flared, and she stormed into Basilure.
“Miss Montpis, we have a guest today...”
“I heard. But do you see who came with me?”
The employee tried to stop her, but Agathe proudly pointed to the Marquise of Flandre outside.
The Marquise of Flandre, who had opened the carriage window to call Agathe back so they could leave, went blank.
With all the reporters watching, she was going upstairs like that?
“Marquise! Why have you brought Miss Montpis to meet the Grand Duchess?”
“We heard Your Grace sent only a proxy to Grand Duke Berk’s wedding! Was today’s meeting arranged in advance?”
She could not abandon Agathe there and flee, nor could she answer those ridiculous questions honestly.
Most of all, if that “Grand Duchess” truly was upstairs, she had to stop Agathe.
Had the girl not already proven herself capable of stirring up trouble in matters related to Grand Duke Berk?
And so the marquise hurriedly climbed down from the carriage and entered Basilure.
But Agathe had already gone up to the second floor.
The employee closed the door and looked at the marquise with anxious eyes.
No doubt terrified of incurring the wrath of someone powerful.
“Is... Grand Duchess Berk truly upstairs?”
“Yes...”
The marquise sighed and ordered, “...Summon Camille for me.”
She had come inside for the moment, but she had no desire to meet the rumored “Grand Duchess.” If they clashed by mistake and some strange version of the story reached the king’s ears, it would be disastrous.
Ideally, she would simply call Agathe down quickly, return home, and afterward send a private apology to the Berk Ducal Residence.
But matters in this world were never so accommodating.
In the brief instant while the marquise waited for Camille—or, more precisely, for Camille to bring Agathe down—the outside grew noisy.
Had someone else tried to enter Basilure and been stopped? The marquise was about to look outside when her face stiffened.
Oh, no.
The person who opened the door and entered was her younger brother, Grand Duke Berk.
Of course, he too seemed to have never imagined his half sister would be here. He froze for a moment, then quickly jerked his chin at the employee to have the door closed.
Before the two could ask each other’s purpose or reason for visiting, Camille came downstairs.
Having received the employee’s request for help, Camille had apparently left the commotion on the second floor for the moment to attend to the distinguished guest below. They, too, were startled to discover yet another unexpected person present.
But Camille swiftly regained composure and greeted them both.
Then Camille explained the situation on the second floor.
The Grand Duchess and Agathe Montpis were in the same room.
“That is all.”
“And I truly must offer my deepest apologies to Your Highness the Grand Duke.”
It was a situation one might well call bewildering, or else distressing.
Camille bowed deeply.
Curtis rubbed his chin and asked, “So you are saying this is pure coincidence.”
“Do you think I would have deliberately brought Agathe here?” the marquise demanded, sounding wronged.
Unexpectedly, Curtis gave a short laugh.
“No. It is simply remarkable, for a coincidence.”
“I find it remarkable myself. You, coming to a place like this.”
The Marquise of Flandre shot back as if venting her frustration.
It meant that the man who ordinarily would not spare a glance for jewelry shops had suddenly appeared in one, which was nothing short of absurd.
If it had only been Agathe and the Grand Duchess, the marquise could have glossed over this situation by calling Agathe down and leaving at a suitable moment.
After all, the Marquise of Flandre was the grand duke’s elder sibling. As the Grand Duchess, Chloe would gain nothing from quarreling with her.
But now that Curtis himself had appeared here, it was true that the marquise could no longer tie up the situation carelessly.
“In any case, your wife is certain to be offended, so I shall apologize.”
“No, goodness. Sister. I misspoke.”
At the Marquise of Flandre’s words, Curtis widened his eyes as though startled and put on an expression that asked what on earth she meant.
The Marquise of Flandre narrowed her eyes.
Sister?
Curtis, who had always called her nothing but “Marquise,” was addressing her with such an intimate title?
In a flash, the green vase crossed her mind.
Surely not.
“In truth, I had been meaning to visit you with my wife soon. Are you not the foremost elder of society? We ought to pay our respects properly.”
“...That is the only reason?”
“What reason could there be, if not that?”
Curtis curved his violet eyes and smiled gently.
It was an unconvincing smile.
At any other time, the marquise might have been seized by suspicion that Curtis had orchestrated this entire situation. Everything was falling into place far too neatly.
But the marquise soon abandoned the wild conjecture.
Above all, the person who had dragged her here, insisting they come, was Agathe Montpis.
That young girl who had wept and wailed because Grand Duke Berk had married—had she really brought the marquise here to cooperate with Curtis?
Absurd.
“How fortunate. I was thinking I might give a gift to the sister I have met again after so long.”
As he said it, Curtis made a show of escorting the Marquise of Flandre.
It seemed he meant to bring whatever argument was unfolding upstairs to a smooth close.
The marquise cleared her throat and reluctantly placed her hand on Curtis’s arm, then sharply corrected him.
“Nonsense. I am not yet so impoverished that I need to receive anything from my younger brother.”
“Ah. I should have called it a bribe, then.”
The marquise narrowed her eyes.
It was then that an agitated woman’s voice rang out loudly.
“You expect me to believe that an unmarried noble maiden agreed to do something that might ruin her reputation in exchange for ten boxes of sweets?”
The marquise’s and Curtis’s gazes met in midair.