The Decoy Standard
“Curtis Shan Berk pays his respects to His Majesty, the King of Ivanes.”
The furious King did not even acknowledge his half-brother’s greeting, cutting straight to the point.
“So, you look quite pleased with yourself, having defied Our explicit orders to coax your aide into marriage.”
“It is all thanks to you, Your Majesty,” Curtis replied, bowing with an utterly shameless face.
“Since Your Majesty has so graciously protected this foolish one’s happiness, I have set everything else aside to devote myself day and night to the preparatory training for the military parade, just as you commanded for the diplomatic event with Glintland.”
“We did?” the King asked, dumbfounded.
“Forgive me, but had it not been for Your Majesty’s sudden proposal, this unworthy brother of yours would surely be wallowing in sorrow right now, unable to enjoy even the simplest of joys with the Grand Duchess.”
Yes. Thanks to you, I married her. My gratitude. It was blatant mockery.
“Simple joys, you say.”
“Indeed. I never dared to dream that a day would come when I would stroll through the palace gardens, hand in hand with a lady.”
The King had already received reports about that ridiculous display. He had heard that Curtis had paraded through the Finance Department garden, holding the Grand Duchess’s hand, and had even run all the way to the Royal Guard building with her. People said it was such a frivolous, undignified sight that everyone who witnessed it clicked their tongues.
“Is publicly humiliating your own sister also part of your ‘simple joys’?”
Curtis barely suppressed a laugh at the King’s words. It seemed the incident at Basilure, where he had clashed with the Marquise of Flandre over Agathe, had reached the King’s ears. However, since it wasn’t exactly a public humiliation, the King clearly didn’t know the full story. Curtis silently reevaluated the jeweler and the craftsman, noting that they kept their mouths remarkably shut.
“Was it not enough that you humiliated Us? Must you go so far as to invoke the dragon’s name to disregard Our instructions?”
The answer to that was already set.
“As royalty of Ivanes, I merely uphold the trust and honor that the name demands.”
The King gnashed his teeth. But it was futile. Though the Kingdom of Ivanes was wealthy, that wealth was built upon the oaths and treaties of countless nobles. If the King disregarded the dragon’s name, every single seal stamped in that name would lose its meaning. It was truly laughable.
When he had first heard that Grand Marshal Victor had made his new aide sign a contract using his own name, he had found it utterly absurd and preposterous. Yet now, that very contract had become a brilliant move to drag the King’s face through the mud.
Thus, as far as Curtis was concerned, giving Chloe Amboise the name of Berk was proving to be an immensely satisfying decision, and the rapidly unfolding consequences were even more gratifying. How had he managed to make such a perfect choice? Putting aside the fact that she made him feel absolutely wretched about himself, watching the King look like he was chewing on glass every single day was a source of pure, unadulterated joy. Until recently, Curtis had been the one grimacing every time they clashed.
“In that case, your wife must also fulfill her honorable duties as royalty of Ivanes.”
A sudden diplomatic banquet. Even before meeting Grand Marshal Victor, Curtis had suspected there was an ulterior motive behind the dismissal request. The Marquise of Flandre’s mention of the Eleonora Society hadn’t made sense at the time, but now he understood. The Marquise had likely received an advance warning from the King. Had it not been for Agathe Montpis, the Marquise would have smoothly cooperated with the King’s schemes. But Agathe had blundered, and the Marquise, feeling indebted to Curtis, had dropped a hint about the King’s plot.
“Are you planning to repay humiliation with humiliation?”
It was inevitable that his insolence would show its sharp edge. It was the kind of response that would make his close friend—who was always telling him, Just keep your mouth shut, and you’ll at least get half credit!—faint from high blood pressure. Yet, faced with this sharp tongue, the King merely chuckled, pretending to be a magnanimous soul.
“We merely thought that since she is the woman the Grand Duke loves so much that he risked everything to marry her, her capabilities must surely be worthy of everyone’s admiration. Besides, hosting a royal banquet is a glorious duty for any lady.”
“….”
“Since the Grand Duke, famous for keeping his distance from others, is so utterly infatuated, We are merely granting her the honor to captivate everyone else—even if her background cannot compare to that of a true ruler.”
Who is she supposed to captivate? Just as Curtis was about to glare at the irritating remark, the King, who had been speaking so shamelessly, sneered with a subtle tone.
“Or is the Grand Duke simply lacking confidence in his wife?”
“Your Majesty.”
“Speak.”
Go ahead, then. Mistake a woman who is merely an employee using my name for someone I love dearly, summon her under the guise of royalty, and torment her to your heart’s content. There are plenty of people eager to humiliate her on Your Majesty’s behalf, so mobilize them all, subtly or overtly. Let her wither away alongside me, simply for the crime of standing by Curtis Shan Berk’s side. Since you cannot wither me—the son of the foreign woman who dared to steal your father’s seed—let her die in my place, simply for bearing the cursed name of Berk. Go ahead.
He could have said that. In fact, that was precisely why Curtis Shan Berk had given Chloe his last name in the first place.
On the battlefield, the enemy’s very first target is always the military standard. The flag flies at the highest point, directing the unit’s movements, showcasing the commander’s valor, and carrying the soldiers’ morale. Therefore, the first person who must die is the standard-bearer. The title of Grand Duchess was a sort of decoy flag Curtis had hoisted. While the enemy rushed toward the decoy, thinking it was the main standard, the main force could slip away or strike from behind. Yet, he stood here now because, in the end, he could not bring himself to abandon that decoy.
“She is still a Warrant Officer of the Royal Guard, and under the interpretation of Ivanes military law, she remains under my command. Therefore, I shall have her perform her royal duties as you wish. However, as I have already stated, those duties will be carried out strictly within the boundaries of the military.”
He felt terribly sorry for the Grand Marshal. Only Curtis knew that the greatest dream of the man who had risen from the lowest ranks to Grand Marshal was to live a quiet, peaceful life. Now, the Grand Marshal was bound to suffer immensely as well.
“Grand Duke Berk! This is the fourth time We are commanding you!”
The King, roaring in fury right before his eyes, was not even amusing. He didn’t care in the slightest.
“It seems you have been rejected for the fourth time. How unfortunate. But even if it were the fifth or sixth time, your foolish brother’s answer would remain the same.”
What else could be done? The standard and its bearer were meant to be protected by the main force. Naturally, a decoy flag required even greater protection than the actual standard to look convincing. Surely a Grand Marshal would understand that. The man who loved to call himself a tired old soldier would undoubtedly grumble, but that was none of Curtis’s concern.
If he hated it so much, he shouldn’t have taken the position of Grand Marshal.
Had Grand Marshal Victor heard this, he would have clutched the back of his neck in outrage at such ingratitude. But at this moment, the Grand Marshal was the furthest thing from Curtis’s mind. The only thing that mattered was Curtis Shan Berk himself.
He still hadn’t been able to define the sudden waves of impulsiveness that had plagued him ever since marrying Chloe. To give an idea of how bad it was: after returning to the estate last night, he had briefly contemplated going down to the second floor under the pretext of having “something to say to the Grand Duchess.” It had been a fleeting thought, but in the past, he wouldn’t have even entertained such a notion for a second. This impulsiveness was clearly leading him down a path different from before, yet Curtis had no idea why.
They said soldiers who spent too much time on the battlefield often exhibited abnormal behavior. They struggled to adapt to peace, showed signs of violence, and couldn’t tolerate situations where their intimidation no longer worked.
Have I been at war for too long?
Anyone could see he was actively looking for trouble. Curtis was seriously considering whether his stubborn refusal to let go of Chloe was merely a manifestation of some psychological defect—a subconscious desire to prolong his confrontation with the King. But looking at the King’s face now, the truth became clear. He was simply incredibly satisfied by how utterly miserable the King looked because of him, and because of her. So, hugging her yesterday was probably... well, a sort of reflex triggered by this satisfaction. Just like how officers would pat their soldiers on the back when they fought well on the battlefield.
Should I give her a bonus?
Recalling the way her face had lit up with a smile while choosing dresses at the boutique, he thought that rewarding her with money for a job well done might not be a bad idea.
Realizing that Curtis was openly daydreaming right in front of him, the King raised his voice.
“Curtis Shan Berk!”
“I know my own name, Your Majesty. There is no need to shout it so passionately.”
The King opened his mouth to snap back, but Curtis was faster.
“Forgive me, but may I take my leave?”
“How dare you! We are not finished speaking!”
“With all due respect, you haven’t said much of anything besides shouting my name for some time now.”
“CURTIS SHAN BERK!!!”
His face flushed crimson with rage, the King lost all control and hurled a nearby teacup straight at him.
“Ah!”
A nearby maid shrieked in terror, but Curtis avoided the projectile with a simple, effortless tilt of his head. The porcelain cup shattered against the wall with a sharp crash.
“Since it seems I am in danger of getting hit, I shall take my leave.”
“Where do you think you are going?!”
Turning on his heel, Curtis let out a soft chuckle, glanced back at the King, and replied.
“To the royal library, to preserve the honor of the royal family.”
“Get back here this instant!”
Even if I go back, you’ll just waste my time shouting my name again. Curtis snorted and walked out of the audience chamber. The King surely knew that no matter how many times he threatened him, Curtis would never let go of Chloe. That was why, despite all his screaming, he hadn’t actually ordered the guards to stop him.
“Your Grace.”
Waiting to greet him was Chloe, standing right next to the guards outside the audience chamber. It was only natural for his aide to wait for him there. Of course, at this moment, he was fully exploiting that natural occurrence. Since the doors to the audience chamber were still wide open, the King would have a front-row seat to this entire spectacle.
Chloe glanced toward the audience chamber and whispered.
“His Majesty seems absolutely pissed off.”
“Let him be. He can afford to be angrier.”
“I really shouldn’t have come here.”
“What are you talking about? Who else would come here if not you?”
Would the King be this furious if I had brought anyone else? That was what he meant. Understanding his implication, Chloe’s expression soured to a degree that rivaled the King’s. Curtis smiled brightly and offered his gloved hand.
“Again?”
“No thank you.”
“The fact that you hate it only makes me want to do it more.”
“Oh, seriously!”
Under the watchful eyes of the whispering guards, Curtis grabbed Chloe’s wrist for all to see and led her away. But his good mood did not last long.
“Ah.”
It was because of the faces they encountered the moment they rounded the corner toward the Royal Guard building.