Why Curtis Came to the Jeweler in the First Place
Truth be told, Curtis's reason for showing up at the jewelry shop on this sunny afternoon was quite simple.
When he showed up at the Royal Guard headquarters first thing in the morning, the guards stared at him as if they were looking at a ghost. They had heard rumors that he would report to work on the very first day of his marriage, but actually seeing him there was another matter entirely. Even Noel, who had been frantically clearing a mountain of backlogged paperwork after assigning Ezra to escort Curtis, let out a deep sigh when he saw his commander arrive precisely on the dot.
"Curtis. I heard you were coming in, but... seeing it with my own eyes makes me think this is just wrong."
"What is?"
"No matter how much of a workaholic you are, shouldn't you at least take today off?"
Normally, Curtis would have scoffed at such a suggestion, muttering something about how everyone already knew he was coming in anyway. Curtis Shan Berk was not a workaholic. He simply couldn't bear to look at the absolute disaster that was the Royal Guard. Leaving these pampered young lords and ladies—whose lack of discipline would get them instantly slaughtered in a real war—to their own devices was, in his eyes, nothing short of professional negligence.
In fact, his plan for the day was to summon the 1st and 2nd Squads the moment he arrived and run them ragged on the training ground. He remembered with vivid clarity every single mistake the guards had made during the ceremonial arch of sabers at his wedding. And he would have done exactly that, if not for Noel's next words.
"Though I suppose you have a shred of conscience left, seeing as you left Her Grace behind. Or wait, should I say you have none at all?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"You're a husband who abandoned his wife on the very first day of their marriage, aren't you?"
Noel smirked as he spoke. It was clearly a joke, given that he was one of the few who knew their marriage was merely a fake contract born of necessity. Yet, strangely enough, Curtis found the remark rather amusing.
"Is that so? Does it look that bad to others?"
"Since when did you care about what others think? Well... but normally, newlyweds would at least go on a honeymoon, which you two skipped entirely."
"Fine. I shall return to my wife's side."
"Huh?"
"And you are coming with me."
It was only a short while ago that Curtis had dragged a bewildered Noel by the scruff of his neck all the way to Papetin Street. He had been in a rather pleasant mood up until the moment he saw the crowd of reporters swarming beneath the sign of Basilure, which proudly displayed its gold "Royal Supplier" seal. After all, he was the one who had tipped off the press and leaked the rumors in the first place. Stepping out of the Royal Guard ceremonial vehicle, he was fully prepared to tell the reporters that he had come to buy a gift for his new Grand Duchess. However, the question thrown at him was entirely unexpected.
"Your Grace! With the Marquise of Flandre and Lady Montpis present, is the Grand Duchess making her social debut right here in this jewelry shop?"
"Since her counterpart is Lady Montpis, of all people, are you planning to clear the path ahead for Her Grace?"
The Marquise of Flandre? And Lady Montpis? Curtis quickly glanced back at Noel, who looked just as utterly bewildered. Still, neither of them was foolish enough to blurt out, "What on earth are you talking about?" in front of the press.
"Today is a private family gathering, and I see no reason to answer every single one of your questions," Curtis replied smoothly. He gestured toward Noel Montpis with his chin and walked straight into the shop, silently congratulating himself for having brought Noel along on a whim.
Recognizing the second son of the Montpis family, the reporters murmured in understanding and stepped back. Though a few whispered among themselves, wondering if it was all a distraction, they were ultimately the very people Curtis had summoned. None of them would dare publish wild speculations that might displease the Grand Duke.
And indeed, he found the Marquise of Flandre waiting inside. It didn't take long to piece together the whole story.
"So my wife is upstairs? With Lady Montpis?"
"...I am sorry."
The Marquise of Flandre apologized, looking thoroughly embarrassed. What an absurd coincidence.
Curtis wanted to burst into laughter, but he held it in. Instead, he focused his attention on the raised voices drifting down from the upper floor. He could easily guess what was happening. He knew Agathe's temperament all too well; she was undoubtedly throwing a tantrum and taking her anger out on his wife.
"I should go up there right now and—"
"Shh."
Curtis raised a finger to silence his half-sister, who was about to head up the stairs. He stepped forward first. Camille, Noel, and the other staff members naturally tried to follow, but he shook his head and gave them a sharp look, signaling them to wait.
Thanks to that, they ended up standing behind the curtain of the stairway partition leading to the second floor, overhearing every single word of the clash between the 'Grand Duchess' and Agathe Montpis. Specifically, they heard Agathe's wildly absurd accusation that Chloe had taken the 2nd Squad Leader, Ezra Dubois, as her secret lover, alongside Ezra's desperate attempts to clear his name.
"You certainly have a generous heart, Warrant Officer Dubois! Defending a woman who abandoned and betrayed you after only two months of dating!"
Hearing this, Curtis glanced back at Noel from behind the curtain. Noel, looking as though he wished the ground would swallow him whole, peeked toward Agathe. When his eyes met Curtis's, he let out a heavy sigh and whispered.
"It's a famous story within the Guard."
"Did they actually date?"
Even the Marquise of Flandre, her eyes wide with shock, stared intently at Noel. Noel waved his hand with a bitter smile.
"Of course not. Warrant Officer Dubois brought it up during a drinking session, and the 1st Squad Leader egged him on."
"And how do you know this?"
"I was there."
Curtis smirked. Noel looked up at him with a suspicious glare.
"Don't tell me you..."
"Keeping such an entertaining story all to yourself, Noel Montpis? That's a pay cut."
"I would appreciate it if you actually gave me a moment to share 'entertaining stories' before docking my pay, boss."
Regardless of their banter, the battle of words between Chloe and Agathe raged on upstairs. Agathe was now passionately expressing her sympathy for the "poor, naive Curtis," who had supposedly assigned his wife's secret lover as her escort, completely oblivious to the Grand Duchess's infidelity. Curtis glanced down at his sister. Even the Marquise of Flandre, who usually doted on Agathe Montpis like a niece, looked thoroughly uncomfortable, her face twisted into a bizarre expression. Well, it was no secret that Agathe harbored some highly delusional fantasies about Curtis.
"Of course Curtis-nim had no idea about your infidelity, Sir Amboise!"
"Well, I suppose so. I didn't have the slightest clue I was committing infidelity either, so how could the Grand Duke possibly know?"
Even in this situation, Chloe—his magnificent wife—refused to yield a single inch to Agathe Montpis. No, calling it a fight was doing it a disservice; it was a complete one-sided slaughter. Curtis leaned slightly toward Noel.
"Thank you for stopping me from marrying your sister."
"If you're truly grateful, please make sure Agathe never hears you say that. I didn't endure all this suffering under you just to be murdered by my own sister."
"Lieutenant Montpis. No... never mind."
The Marquise of Flandre, who had been about to interject, pressed a hand to her forehead. She, too, could easily picture the sheer chaos Agathe would unleash upon her brother if she ever found out. Growing increasingly irritated as she watched them, the Marquise hissed at Curtis in a low, annoyed whisper.
"How long are you going to stand here like this? Excuse me, but I am going up there to stop—"
"Just a moment, sister."
Curtis held out an arm, blocking her path. The Marquise, who had been about to push past him regardless, froze. Upstairs, Chloe had marched forward and cornered Agathe against the wall. Agathe was on the shorter side even among noble ladies of her age, whereas Chloe was quite tall.
"Miss Montpis, who is currently on leave. Would you prefer I address you as a sergeant, or as the daughter of Count Montpis?"
Hearing the question, Noel muttered a quiet response under his breath, far too low for Chloe to hear.
"Her Grace's benevolence brings tears to my eyes. To think she still treats that girl like a human being."
Say what you want, but Noel was undoubtedly the greatest victim of his sister's antics. Meanwhile, trapped beneath Chloe's arm, Agathe's face flushed crimson as she shrieked.
"W-Who said anyone accepts you as Grand Duchess Berk?"
Even from a distance, it was painfully obvious how thoroughly intimidated she was. She looked like a tiny, helpless fledgling.
"How pitiful," Curtis murmured, stifling a laugh. Despite his words, his tone carried not a shred of actual pity.
"Unfortunately, even if I lack elegance, I am still the Grand Duchess. This is a settled matter, regardless of whether you accept it or not, Miss Montpis. After all, you are neither a 'Berk' nor an 'Ivannes'."
Curtis chuckled silently at Chloe's sharp retort.
"Fascinating."
The Marquise of Flandre, Noel, and Camille all stared at him as if he had lost his mind, but he couldn't care less. Since no one besides Noel knew the truth behind this contract marriage, he couldn't exactly reveal his inner thoughts here anyway. Still, Curtis found himself growing rather curious.
"Have you been crying?"
Chloe's voice drifted down, remarkably clear. He parted the curtain slightly to peer upstairs. There was quite a crowd gathered. The younger Amboise sisters. The dumbfounded shop owner and her staff. The dim-witted Warrant Officer Dubois, whom he had assigned as an escort but who now stood there utterly dazed. And Agathe Montpis, who seemed caught in a storm of confusion, unable to tell if she was angry or humiliated. And right in the center of it all stood Chloe Amboise—no, Chloe Le David Berk—gently checking on the other girl's face despite everything.
"Is she foolish, or is she brilliant?"
"What?"
"It's nothing."
Curtis took a step back. The Marquise of Flandre, giving him a look of utter incomprehension, parted the curtain and poked her head out. Being shorter than Curtis, she seemed to have trouble seeing. Camille Basilure also craned her neck from behind the Marquise. The conversation from above continued to drift down to them.
"Is it because of the Grand Duke?"
"What does it matter to you..."
A thoroughly dejected Agathe Montpis hung her head, only to suddenly look up and shift her gaze. For a split second, Curtis wondered if she had spotted him, but he quickly realized that wasn't the case. The Marquise of Flandre flinched beside him. Agathe must have spotted the Marquise peeking through the parted curtain and assumed her savior had arrived. Instantly regaining her venomous spirit like a cornered cat, Agathe glared at Chloe.
"For someone of your supposed status, you certainly seem to be looking at nothing but cheap trash."
Curtis tilted his head slightly as he watched the theatrical display unfold. Well, he could always ask her about it later. She was his wife, after all, and a married couple would always have time to talk in private. His only regret was that he couldn't watch this play, starring his wife as the lead, all the way to its conclusion.