Lost in Back Alleys
Lost in thought, she seemed to have walked too far; her surroundings were unfamiliar. This place was a far cry from the glamorous, pristine Papetin Street. I definitely didn't walk that far from Papetin Street. If Agathe had performed her patrol duties for the Royal Guard with even a shred of diligence, she would have known exactly where she was. The back alleys of Papetin Street. It was a shady district where expensive but illicit goods, or even plundered pirate loot, changed hands. A place where high-born nobles like Agathe would never venture alone.
"Where on earth am I...?" she muttered anxiously, scanning her surroundings.
Fortunately, after retracing her steps a bit, she spotted a passage leading back to the main street at the end of an alley. Though the path was narrow and filthy, it seemed like her best bet. Agathe squeezed her eyes shut and lifted the hem of her dress.
"Damn it... I should have worn boots..."
Her feet kicked against the piles of garbage that naturally accumulated in the shadows. Just as Agathe turned her head in irritation—
Huh?
An ordinary antique shop sat on one side of the alley—a place she would normally never set foot in. But something about the interior caught her eye. Agathe stopped in her tracks and peered inside. She quickly realized what was out of place. The shopkeeper had likely been negligent in drawing the curtains. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the interior. And there, just like Agathe, was someone who did not belong in a place like this.
What's with that woman?
A woman who was unmistakably a noble was deep in conversation with an attendant inside the shop. Though her attire was hidden beneath a long, thick robe, her hair gleamed in the sunlight with an incredibly silky luster. Was it pink? No, brown?
Right then, perhaps bothered by the glare, the shopkeeper reached out and drew the curtain. At that exact moment, the woman turned around. Startled by the unexpected sight, Agathe instinctively spun around and hurried away.
...Isabelle la Glintland?
Yes. The moment the woman turned, her robe slipped slightly, revealing a face Agathe knew all too well. The woman who had traveled all this way for marriage negotiations with Curtis Shan Berk. Normally, Agathe wouldn't have cared less about the movements of a foreign envoy, but given the nature of her visit, Agathe had made sure to memorize her face. What was she doing in a place like this...?
...Is she a spy?
...To be fair, even though Agathe had joined the Royal Guard with the ulterior motive of pursuing Curtis Shan Berk, she was still an official member of the Guard. She possessed enough sense to know that a foreign diplomat skulking around the capital's back alleys was highly suspicious. But.
Is it any of my business?
Whatever a woman targeting Curtis did in some random back alley was none of her concern. Besides, Glintland was a miserably poor country; perhaps she was just here to buy some cheap dishware. More importantly, she needed to get back to her carriage...
"That stupid brother of mine. He's not even chasing after me anymore?"
Only then did Agathe realize Noel wasn't following her. Scowling, she quickened her pace. She decided she would have to grill her brother about what Curtis had meant earlier when he mentioned "considering her as a candidate for Grand Duchess"—a question she had been too flustered to ask at the time.
After the visit to Basilure, the days passed without much incident. To be honest, Chloe was far too busy adjusting to life at the grand ducal residence to notice the passage of time.
I need to find an etiquette tutor soon.
Julia was helping her temporarily, but since Julia's background was as a seamstress for Queen Mildred, she lacked the qualifications to teach high-society etiquette. Still, that didn't mean there was nothing to learn, so Chloe did her best. The butler, Philip, was still walking on eggshells around her, and the maids were no different, so her life was perfectly comfortable. Regarding this, Curtis had dryly remarked, "The phrase 'striking first wins the day' may be crude, but it is certainly accurate."
The best part of all was that Chloe finally had her own room. The fact that it was directly beneath Curtis's room was slightly annoying, but it wasn't as if the Grand Duke was going to crash through the ceiling. For the first time, Chloe fully relished having a space entirely to herself. To be frank, it was incredibly fun. Every meal was delicious, and her quarters were vast. A separate bedroom, a drawing room, a dedicated toilette room, and a private bath. As a little secret, when no one was watching, Chloe actually lay down and rolled all the way from her bedroom to the drawing room. It was so spacious, and so impeccably clean, that not a single speck of dust clung to her clothes during her journey from one end to the other.
Aside from adjusting to the estate, she had other duties to attend to. The administrative tasks Curtis had dumped on her were substantial. But in truth, they weren't much different from the Royal Guard paperwork she used to handle under him. She audited the estate's finances and, with the Grand Duke's advice, sorted the necessary expenses from the unnecessary ones. In the process, she even discovered that the butler had been allocating higher wages only to the maids he personally favored. Philip's standing shrank by the day. Naturally, his expression grew increasingly sour along with it.
Whenever she was hungry, she pulled the bell pull. The maids would promptly bring her delicious treats. There was, however, one peculiar thing. Chloe ate every single scrap of food served to her, but there were certain dishes she deliberately saved for last. Without fail, those exact dishes would appear in double the portion size during the next meal. It was likely the maids' petty attempt at revenge—forcing her to choke down what they assumed were her least favorite foods.
But there was one thing the maids hadn't anticipated. Chloe was the type of person who saved the absolute best bites for last. Thanks to their misunderstanding, Chloe got to feast on butter-rich southern-style steamed clams for three consecutive meals. By the end, the portion was so massive that a bit of the broth was left over. When she requested the chef, "If you could blanch some southern-style noodles and toss them in this broth, I think I can finish the whole thing," the maids looked absolutely flabbergasted. When she shared the story, Leah burst into fits of laughter in the annex.
"So, what did they serve for the meal after that?"
"They stopped giving me the steamed clams..."
They were peaceful, idyllic days. It was remarkably easy to let the days slip by like this. Which meant...
"Time to wake up, Your Grace."
The end of Chloe's leave—granted under the pretext of wedding preparations and a honeymoon—had arrived far too quickly. Right. She had been so blissfully happy waking up these past few days that she had forgotten: mornings were supposed to be miserable. Still half-asleep, Chloe curled into a ball, resisting Julia's gentle nudges.
"Julia..."
"Yes, Your Grace?"
The sweet maid approached with a warm smile. Chloe looked up at her with a tearful face. She missed the days when Leah used to wake her up. Julia and the rest of the staff were waiting, having prepared everything from her washing water to her freshly pressed uniform, all for the "Grand Duchess." Chloe simply didn't have the shamelessness to beg, "Just five more minutes..." to the servants lined up beside her bed.
"Never mind..."
"Yes, Your Grace. Please step out to the left."
Beneath the left side of the bed, a pair of plush, furry slippers was waiting for her. Chloe sighed, sat up, and slipped her feet into them.
"I don't suppose I can skip work today..."
The whine finally slipped out during breakfast. It had been about ten days since their wedding. Though the newlywed couple had slept in separate rooms since their wedding night, they always shared breakfast. Of course, in the Grand Duke's case, breakfast consisted of nothing more than a single cup of tea, making it highly debatable whether it even qualified as a meal.
"If you have no intention of going to work, why are you eating so enthusiastically?" Curtis set down his teacup and asked in his signature indifferent tone.
Chloe, who was just pulling her spoon from a completely empty soup bowl, avoided his gaze. "It's not like I'm actually going to skip..."
"Then if you're going to go anyway, why waste your breath on such pointless complaints?"
What a jerk. Chloe glared at him in annoyance. The man sat with aristocratic poise, his eyes never straying from the newspaper spread open before him.
"Why do soldiers sing military anthems when they go to war? It's not like singing makes them win."
"Are you flaunting your Navy background? Military anthems are the cornerstone of boosting morale."
"Your Grace."
"What?"
"You don't have any friends, do you?"
The attending servants bit their lips, desperately trying to suppress their laughter. Only then did Curtis finally lower his newspaper and look at her. Chloe picked up an oat biscuit from the plate a servant had gently placed before her, took a loud, crunchy bite, and continued.
"If military anthems are the cornerstone of morale, what do you think a wife's morning complaints at the breakfast table are?"
"...I highly doubt it's an official grievance report."
For the record, the official grievance officer of the Royal Guard was none other than Brigadier General Curtis Shan Berk himself. Chloe huffed in frustration.
"If it were a grievance report, I would have asked to discharge from the military. This is what we call emotional bonding."
"Emotional bonding."
The way he repeated the words made his thoughts painfully clear: With me? You? He looked utterly dumbfounded. Of course, Chloe also realized mid-sentence how ridiculous and absurd the claim sounded. Normally, the person Chloe whined to about not wanting to go to work over breakfast was Leah. But Leah was currently staying in the annex, and the man sitting across from her now was Curtis Shan Berk—her employer. ...Thinking about it that way, Chloe had indeed spoken out of turn. Yet, she lifted her chin shamelessly.
"Yes. A bonding experience shared with your beloved wife—and the superior officer you went to such great lengths to bring home."
"Superior officer." Curtis repeated her words, his gaze locking onto hers. Chloe stared right back, even more brazenly. You haven't forgotten our contract, have you?
Naturally, the surrounding servants interpreted the look passing between the couple in a slightly different light. To them, it was surely a sweet, affectionate morning exchange between a newlywed couple.
The Grand Duke, who never understood human emotion, is getting scolded by the wife he defied the royal family to bring home...
That absolute jerk has finally met his match and is getting put in his place...
Incredible. I'm going to spill the details about the Grand Duke getting flustered to the kitchen staff later and trade it for some plums.
I wish they'd do their lovers' tiffs in private...
Regardless of the servants' wild imaginations, Curtis stared at her for a long moment before his lips finally curved into a soft smile. He spoke.
"Then, would you like to hear my emotions as well?"
Chloe flinched. She had a sudden, ominous feeling that something highly bizarre was about to come out of his mouth. She cautiously asked back, "W-what is it?"
Curtis chuckled. "I'd love to let my wife enjoy her breakfast, but if you eat any more, you're going to be late."
"..."
"If you're going to go to work regardless of your complaints, I suggest you stop eating and stand up, my master."
She had tried to tease him and ended up completely defeated. She hadn't even finished her biscuit! Furthermore, for some reason, they were in such a rush that a motorcar had been prepared instead of her usual carriage. Commuting was something best delayed for as long as humanly possible—unless, of course, the dread of being late kicked in! If Julia hadn't thoughtfully packed a basket full of desserts and pressed it into her hands as she boarded the car, Chloe would have been truly miserable. At any rate, the treats inside the basket were as luxurious as always, and Chloe's mood lifted slightly.
I'll eat this in the aide's office as soon as I arrive. I wonder if Lieutenant Noel had breakfast?
Unfortunately, Chloe didn't get to eat her breakfast even after arriving at work. The moment she stepped into the office, a summons from a very high-ranking figure was waiting for her.
Someone far higher in rank than Curtis.