The Point Is This

In short, it came down to this: their marriage was a glorified employment contract. Chloe had been hired under the title of Grand Duchess to take the fall and absorb all the filth for the sake of Curtis Shan Berk's safety. Curtis had put her forward as the Grand Duchess to shield himself from the King's wrath. In this contract, "Grand Duchess" was synonymous with a shield or a defensive line.

The King likely detested Chloe just as much as he did Curtis right now. That had to be why he bypassed the Marquise of Flandre and the Crown Princess to order Chloe to host the diplomatic banquet.

In truth, Chloe believed it would have made perfect sense for Curtis to dismiss her from her post as his aide the moment the King's command came down. While Curtis was the ultimate target of the King's hatred, Chloe was the one who had actually ruined the monarch's grand plans. For Curtis, it would have been a hundred times easier to relieve her of her military duties and throw her to the King as a "new member of the royal family," completely stripped of military protection.

"It would have been much easier to throw me to His Majesty as bait. Isn't that why you paid such a hefty price for me in the first place?"

Hatred was a funny thing. It took a massive amount of energy to detest someone. And as everyone knew, the King was a short-sighted man who only focused on what was right in front of him. Thus, for the time being, the furious King would likely have eyes only for Chloe. Curtis would be pushed down the list of priorities, a problem to be dealt with only after Chloe had been thoroughly chewed up, spit out, and torn to shreds. Naturally, Curtis's life would become much easier.

Chloe knew this well enough. It wasn't as if she hadn't prepared herself for it.

Before signing the contract, Chloe had calculated every single scenario from one to a hundred of what could happen to her the moment she rebranded herself under the Berk name. Since she knew little of high-society politics, she couldn't predict everything, but his dismissing her from her post had definitely been within her calculations.

Although Lieutenant Noel had joked that Curtis would never find another aide if she left, realistically, that wasn't true. After all, serving as the aide to "Brigadier General Berk" was a stellar addition to anyone's resume, not a stain. Even Crown Prince Frederick had pointed out that this was the military, after all. There were always ways to drag someone in and force them into a seat.

"In the first place, Your Grace only brought me here and kept me by your side as bait—"

But Chloe was ruthlessly cut off.

"Quiet. There are too many people around. Have you already forgotten the pillars at the wedding?"

Gulp. Recalling the temple pillars where everyone's whispers could be overheard in an instant, Chloe clamped her mouth shut and looked up at Curtis. For some reason, his beautiful purple eyes had hardened into a terrifyingly cold stare, completely different from moments before.

The man stared at her, then snapped his head forward the moment their eyes met. He began to stride ahead with long, aggressive steps. He walked so fast that Chloe practically had to jog to keep up with him.

What is his problem? Why is he throwing a tantrum? Did I say something wrong?

In the heavy silence, the chase continued—one leading, the other trailing behind. It was a good thing they were both tall; any person of average height would have fallen behind instantly, unable to match Curtis's massive stride. However, even this didn't last long.

"Ah."

Perhaps one of the royal palace gardeners had been slacking on maintenance. Chloe, who had been marching forward with her eyes glued to his back, caught her foot on a gap between the paving stones, stumbled, and fell. There was a loud thud.

"?" When a startled Curtis spun around, she was already on her knees on the ground. Her navy-blue uniform was smeared with dirt, and judging by the way she was inspecting her palms, she had scraped them against the stone.

"Warrant—"

Before he could even finish calling her title, she pushed herself up and brushed herself off.

"Those lazy bastard gardeners need to get their heads checked," she muttered.

Curtis was left utterly speechless as she muttered the curse and casually wiped her scraped palms against her jacket. The hand he had instinctively reached out to help her hung uselessly in the air.

"My apologies. Let us keep moving."

With her trousers covered in dust from her knees down to her calves, the first thing she did was apologize. And then she told him to keep going. He didn't know whether to be dumbfounded or exasperated.

"...Warrant Officer, do you view me as absolute scum?"

"Excuse me?"

Her pink eyes widened, flashing a look that screamed, What kind of nonsense is he spouting now? Curtis suddenly felt as if someone had shoved a fist straight down his throat. What on earth was this feeling? He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't form. The only thing he managed to squeeze out was:

"...I've been meaning to say this for a while, but you are incredibly short-sighted, Warrant Officer."

It was a pathetic retort. At his words, her face instantly hardened. The playful smirk she had worn just moments ago, looking as if someone had handed her a piece of candy, vanished as if it had never existed.

"My deepest apologies."

She dropped her hands to her sides, snapped into a rigid parade rest, and spoke with chilling formality.

"If you point out my error, I shall correct it immediately."

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

He didn't even know what he actually wanted to say, and the words that slipped past his lips were sharp blades rather than actual thoughts. Only then did Curtis realize he was thoroughly displeased. Displeased. But why? As if providing the answer, her flat, indifferent voice echoed in his mind.

'It would have been much easier to throw me to His Majesty as bait. Isn't that why you paid such a hefty price for me in the first place?'

She wasn't technically wrong. But still, to say it like that...

"Is that something you should be saying in public?"

"...My apologies."

They were close. The hand he had held and let go. The conversation that followed. Curtis Shan Berk possessed exceptionally sharp senses. It was a survival mechanism born from dealing with assassins since childhood. Having grown up in a household where he could never let his guard down, he had become a master at sensing the presence of others.

He knew better than anyone that there was no one else in the Finance Department Garden. Chloe, while perhaps not as hyper-vigilant as him, was still being sufficiently cautious. In truth, Curtis was simply being unreasonable right now.

Yet, the moment he heard those words, he had felt a sudden surge of irritation toward her. Is that something you should say in public? No, that wasn't it. Is that something you should say to me? Do you really think I'm that much of a scoundrel? He could discard her whenever he pleased, but since he had chosen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not to... she shouldn't be talking to him like that.

...Did she even realize that?

"I shall correct my behavior."

"...I hope you do not repeat the same mistake in the future."

Curtis swallowed his swirling thoughts and forced the words out. Then, he turned around.

I've completely botched this. It was incredibly unlike him. While it was true he was a strict and demanding superior, Curtis prided himself on never being unreasonable. The Royal Guards were like hothouse flowers, behaving as if they had eaten their military discipline for breakfast on their way to work. Punishing them with physical drills was only natural. Though many didn't seem to agree, he had never run his guards ragged without a valid reason.

...Of course, his aides were a slightly different story. He had worked them to the bone as a silent protest against the King, who had shoved him into the Royal Guard Command in the first place. Cycling through aides had been his way of making a statement. Still, even taking all of that into account...

I went too far.

No matter how he looked at it, she was a woman who held something akin to leverage over him. Even though they had signed a contract, this alliance could shatter like glass the moment he pushed her too far. Curtis tried to convince himself that the tight knot of anxiety in his throat was purely due to that. It was because he could feel her resentment and displeasure in the stiff gaze she directed at him. That was why...

It was then. Still standing at parade rest, Chloe spoke up.

"I have something to say."

"...Speak." She must be about to demand an apology. She was clearly offended, Curtis thought as he gave his permission. But the response that came back made him doubt his own ears.

"Brigadier General Berk."

Curtis's eyes widened. It felt as if a crucial step had been skipped in this conversation. As in...

"Is that any way for you to speak to me?"

The situation was utterly baffling. His aide—no, his Grand Duchess—had suddenly dropped her honorifics and was speaking to him informally right after being scolded. Curtis desperately scrambled to find a logical explanation.

...Did she hit her head when she fell earlier?

Of course she hadn't. Contrary to Curtis's wild theory, Chloe had not lost her mind. She was simply incredibly annoyed at the fact that she was suddenly standing at parade rest in the middle of the Finance Department Garden, taking a verbal beating. Seriously. Did she ask something she shouldn't have?

'It would have been much easier to throw me to His Majesty as bait. Isn't that why you paid such a hefty price for me in the first place?'

Hey, why didn't you just throw me under the bus? You easily could have. I'm getting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠paid ten million shings a year by you, you know?

That was all she had meant. In a way, there was even a shred of gratitude mixed in. You didn't have to protect me. I came here fully prepared for the worst. So, thanks. Was it really so wrong for her to express something like that?

Of course, she admitted she had been careless. That was why she had shut her mouth and quietly followed him. The man had warned her back at the temple during their wedding that walls had ears. The royal castle shared a similar structure, and the Finance Department Garden they were currently standing in was practically the King's front yard.

Tripping had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been a bit embarrassing and humiliating, but it wasn't a big deal. It was the gardeners who deserved to be cursed out, not Curtis. Yet, the man had immediately started acting in a way that practically begged for a tongue-lashing.

'Warrant Officer, do you view me as absolute scum?'

It was a closely guarded secret that she had barely held back from replying, Did you only just realize that? With all due respect, my esteemed Brigadier General, your Grand Duchess actually used to refer to you as a "crazy bastard" on a regular basis before our marriage. And if we're weighing "crazy bastard" against "scum," I'd say "crazy bastard" is a much harsher assessment.

At any rate, she had no way of knowing why the Brigadier General's mood had suddenly taken such a sharp, twisted turn. How was she supposed to respond when she was already being scolded for carelessness, only for him to suddenly ask, Do you view me as scum? She couldn't exactly say, I was reflecting on my carelessness perfectly fine, so why are you suddenly acting up? While she was busy choosing her words, another insult had flown her way.

'I've been meaning to say this for a while, but you are incredibly short-sighted, Warrant Officer.'

At this point, unless Chloe was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠literal saint, she was bound to get annoyed. And suddenly, a fact she had forgotten thanks to the recent peace rushed back to her. Ah, right. I forgot this guy is a total lunatic.