Little Golden Duke? - 2
Matters involving dukes rarely circulate through high society. Wag your tongue carelessly about a duke, and if the duke’s mood sours, your neck is the first thing on the line.
But exceptions exist everywhere. When an incident is simply too outrageous to keep quiet about—or when the duke in question quietly hopes the rumor will spread—the gossip races out of control.
No need to look far for an example. This is one of those times.
“Director Karl Catoban. How have you been faring lately?”
“Shut up.”
I had been alone in the empty clubroom, trying to get my thoughts in order, when the call came through. I nearly ignored it, then decided it might be important and answered—only to be hit with that lunatic provocation the moment the connection opened.
Catoban, of all things.
That was the Magic Lord’s family name. Who exactly was trying to turn me into a live-in son-in-law?
“Why so harsh? It’s not as though Her Grace the Magic Lord could become a Crassius, after all.”
“I said shut up.”
Watching the Second Section Chief snicker at my reaction made my hands and feet tremble with rage. That bastard dared to mock his superior’s misfortune?
This is the end of days.
I could scarcely believe it. What kind of twisted soul treated his boss like a toy? It was enough to make one weep. How could anyone call this a proper civil service when the relationship between superior and subordinate had warped this badly? Absolute obedience from below should have been the virtue of every official.
The urge to reclassify the Second Section Chief as “Section Chief, slash, problem” surged up at once. At the same time, a black wave of despair rolled over me.
It’s already everywhere.
If that man was teasing me this freely, the Magic Lord incident had already spread as far as it was going to spread. Information gathering was the Second Section Chief’s specialty, but even he could not have uncovered what happened at the Crown Princess’s birthday banquet in a single heartbeat.
Someone who attended the banquet must have turned themselves into a living megaphone. I had no idea which loose-lipped idiot was responsible for fanning the rumor.
Only two days have passed.
Or rather—was two days already a long time? Thinking about it, two days was more than enough for gossip of this caliber to race through the empire.
The guest list alone had included the Crown Prince, the Crown Princess, a duke, the Speaker of the Imperial Diet, and any number of other heavyweights. One of them opening their mouth was all it took for the story to explode.
“Who told you?”
“The Magic Tower lot. When I first heard it I thought they’d all gone mad.”
At the Second Section Chief’s smirking answer I squeezed my eyes shut.
Not just anyone—people from the Magic Tower? The same people who never opened their mouths unless it concerned official business?
So it was the Magic Lord.
I had arrived at a truth I would rather not have known. The one volunteering for megaphone duty was the Magic Lord herself.
She must have ordered the tower mages to spread the rumor with enthusiasm. And the mages, of course, had obeyed the command of the person who sat at the absolute peak of their hierarchy.
I’m finished.
If the entire Magic Tower was serving as both megaphone and carrier pigeon, there was no hope. Those people already wandered all over the empire thanks to teleportation magic; if they were scattering the rumor in every direction, the whole realm already knew.
She’s serious.
Cold sweat prickled down my back. The Magic Lord had truly made up her mind.
“There will be the New Year’s Audience. I shall wait for that day.”
The last words she had left me rose unbidden in my memory.
Only now did I understand. She had said she would wait for the New Year’s Audience; she had never said she would stay quiet in the meantime.
Like a fool I had assumed the Magic Lord would remain silent. Common sense alone should have told me that anyone who had detonated a bomb of that size would never simply sit still.
…Should I just skip it?
The thought crossed my mind in complete seriousness. If I attended this year’s New Year’s Audience, every eye in the hall would fasten on me like stage lights. Would it be better to rack up one stack of imperial displeasure with the Emperor and simply desert? That option suddenly looked excellent for my mental health.
“Still, Director—if you become Her Grace the Magic Lord’s partner, no one would be able to touch you, would they?”
Seeing me fall into silence, the Second Section Chief finally recovered a shred of decency and offered a careful word of comfort. It did not feel remotely comforting, but by his standards it counted. Completely unhelpful, you bastard.
“Are you suggesting I marry her for my own convenience?”
My head was such a mess that the sharp reply came out on its own. Given what he had just said, I would have been within my rights to stab him with a blade instead of words.
They really wouldn’t be able to touch me, though.
Yes—if I became the Magic Lord’s husband, life would certainly become easier. Even fellow dukes bowed before her, and the Emperor himself treated her with genuine respect. The Crown Prince? Not even worth discussing.
A position no one dared approach lightly. That was the seat reserved for the Magic Lord’s husband.
So what?
But what did that matter? I had no desire to choose the person I would spend the rest of my life with by calculating profit.
Besides—for reasons I still did not understand, truly did not understand—the Magic Lord seemed to like me. Taking advantage of those feelings for personal gain would make me the lowest kind of bastard.
“Benefiting from one’s wife isn’t exactly strange…”
“That’s after you marry, not marrying in order to benefit.”
“You’re more of a commoner about this than I am, and I actually am one. Why are you like this, Director?”
The Second Section Chief let out a hollow laugh at a statement that completely contradicted the entire concept of political marriage. Sorry, but I was probably more of a commoner than he would ever be.
I cut the conversation with the Director short. He did not seem entirely in his right mind, so there was no point in dragging it out.
“Hang in there, sir. Just remember that if you collapse, Her Grace the Magic Lord will come running.”
“You bastard.”
Calling a subordinate who had offered advice right to the end a bastard—that was the highest form of praise. Another rewarding day.
With the image of the Director grinding his teeth still fresh, the communication sphere went dark.
Incredible.
A quiet snort of laughter escaped me. I had long known the Director was a premium listing on the marriage market, but I never imagined even the Magic Lord would be hunting him.
It was genuinely astonishing. Advancing that far with the Iron Blood Duke’s youngest daughter was already impressive enough—but to leap past a duke’s daughter and reach an actual duke?
I chose the right line to follow.
Watching the Director charge straight into the heart of power filled me with satisfaction. My decision two years ago had not been wrong after all.
A Director so young he was practically a child. The others had thrown themselves on the floor and asked how anyone was supposed to take orders from someone like that; I had attached myself to him at once.
Wasn’t that the obvious move? When you could see the Crown Prince deliberately pushing him forward, only a complete idiot would resist.
Idiots, the lot of them.
I still could not understand it. Why had they talked back? The Director had already been a heavyweight before the war.
Heir to an Imperial Count, and on his mother’s side the current—
“How did it go?”
A low voice from behind shattered the train of thought.
Goosebumps rose instantly. I must have been out of my mind. The important thing right now was not the Director’s bloodline.
“No need to worry. The Director seemed pretty rattled himself.”
I forced calm into my voice. Showing panic would only invite more interrogation—
“Are you certain?”
“…I’m fairly sure he was rattled?”
Meeting those icy red eyes, I immediately fudged the answer. When she asked if I was certain, there was nothing I could say.
At my reaction the red-eyed ghost—no, the First Section Chief—frowned, just slightly.
Harsh.
A cold response. I had gone to the trouble of sounding the Director out for her, and this was the look I got in return.
I did not press the point. I already knew the First Section Chief liked the Director. A duke had just appeared as a rival; of course she would react this way. As a colleague I fully understood.
It absolutely had nothing to do with watching her mutter darkly to herself the moment she arrived at work this morning.
“Well… it’s not as though the Director would fall for just any woman.”
After a brief silence the First Section Chief spoke with forced brightness, as if the whole matter left her completely unaffected, as if it had not landed a single blow.
Yes, I agreed. For two years the Director had lived under Hecate’s shadow. He was only just beginning to step out of it; how could any other woman even enter his field of view?
Except…
You’re “just any woman” too.
The most fatal problem the First Section Chief herself failed to recognize.
I kept the thought carefully behind my teeth. I had no desire to visit the basement of Section One either.
Once she seemed to have calmed, I quietly slipped outside.
Maybe I should take a business trip for a while.
The thought surfaced unbidden. She was calm for now, but there was no telling when the First Section Chief might plunge back into a state of rage.
Whenever her romantic troubles twisted her mood, I was the only one who suffered. Regrettably, I was also the only person who knew she liked the Director.
If only I had never found out.
Belated regret washed over me. I should never have acted like I noticed. Even if I had realized, I should have clenched my teeth and pretended otherwise.
Those who lay hands on forbidden knowledge always suffer for it. Damn it all.
“What even is marriage.”
A sigh heavy with despair and resentment. My private grievances now stretched out toward the institution of marriage itself.
This was why marriage was the problem. Trying to bind free human beings together under the name of husband and wife was bound to produce disasters.
Look at the Director. Under ordinary circumstances he managed just fine; the moment marriage got tangled up in things, he suffered like this.
Therefore marriage was something to be avoided. One should simply enjoy romance and live while feeling free.
No one else understands that.
Moths flying straight into the fire of self-imposed bondage without ever knowing the beauty of freedom. From the sidelines it was deeply pitiable.
Well—pitiable or not, what could I do? It was their choice.
And it’s already too late anyway.
The Director could no longer reverse course. From the moment his relationship with Lady Margeta had advanced, the only path left to him was straight ahead.
With a heart full of pity I gave a small bow in the direction of the Academy. Consider this my prayer for your soul, Director.
Having finished airing myself out for a reasonable stretch, I was about to return to the office when the communication sphere in my pocket flared with light.
“Mister Lafayette.”
I activated the sphere, and a woman with deep blue hair appeared.
“Miss Christina.”
A smile rose on its own at the welcome face.
Happiness was easy enough to find even without marriage.
I truly could not understand why anyone thought otherwise.