For Now, the Death and the Young Lady Are on Their Best Behavior
A cool breeze drifted in through the window. Lying on my bed and staring up at the ceiling, I found myself turning the last few days over in my mind.
So this is how it all turned out.
Knocking out the Mountain King — an enormous bison — in a single blow had been fine and dandy. The problem was that in the process, Katerina's most distinctive feature, her hair, had been exposed to the world.
The hood I'd thrown on carelessly to hide it had come loose during my frantic movements, and out tumbled golden hair that gleamed like spun sunlight, coiled into drill-shaped curls. In all the Grand Duchy, there was surely no one else with hair like that.
It's genuinely the head of hair a villainess would have. Suits her, too, honestly….
Katerina's blonde locks caught the sunlight and sparkled as bright as the sun itself. Her hair fell to her shoulders in a natural wave before splitting into two tails, each one rolled up like a drill. Add in those vivid ruby-red eyes, and her appearance became the kind you could never forget after seeing it once.
The mistake was covering the hair Eliza had styled for me that morning with a flimsy hood.
But really, who could have predicted I'd get ambushed by an enraged giant bison while sneaking out? This wasn't my fault, was it…? No. No, it was not.
Anyway, the moment the hood slipped, that distinctive drill-curl blonde and those red eyes were laid bare. And once that happened, we had no choice but to vacate the scene immediately.
While I stood there panicking and utterly useless, Eliza — wearing the bitter little smile of someone who had apparently seen this coming all along — quietly found us an escape route, and Natasha trailed after us, soul halfway out of her body.
At least we managed to get away somehow. Small mercies….
Except there was a problem. Word that the girl who felled the Mountain King with one punch was the Grand Duchess's own daughter spread through the city like wildfire.
First, we explained the situation to the vassals of the court. In the hastily convened meeting, a variety of measures were discussed — all in the name of "suppressing an unfortunate rumor."
But there was no clever solution to be found. The best they could offer was something along the lines of using the city guard to crack down on the taverns where the rumor had originated.
And that was a plan I couldn't nod along to. I, inhabiting Katerina's body, was a modern soul at my core — and a modern soul knew all about the Streisand Effect.
When you try to artificially delete or censor a piece of information, the very attempt makes it spread wider than ever.
The harder we tried to smother the rumor, the more people would suspect there was something to hide, and the end result would be a scandal far bigger than the original.
In the end, I decided the best response was no response at all.
But the rumor refused to die down on its own, the way I'd hoped. The citizens of Eisenfels delighted in fresh gossip, and the story raced through the whole city like a grass fire. Merchants traded the tale in their shops, nobles at their banquets, servants in their kitchens.
"They say the Grand Duke's daughter felled a bison the size of a house with a single punch!"
"That bison? I heard it weighs more than fifty soldiers put together."
"Truly remarkable. Though I wonder — what was Her Ladyship doing at the livestock market in the first place?"
"Ahem, ahem. Best we end that line of talk right there."
"Ah, aha. Say no more, I take your meaning."
"Ahem. Why, in my wild youth I never studied a day in my life, and I still made something of myself all on my own. Heroes never bother with book-learning, that's what they say."
"You just helped your father with his work and then inherited the whole thing."
"Why, you little—!"
Astonishingly, according to Eliza, the common folk had taken the whole thing rather positively.
"The maids have been talking of nothing else, my lady. Especially the part where Lady Katerina rescued the citizens from danger."
And the nobles? According to the letter Natasha passed along, this was the sort of talk drifting through a banquet held by one of the minor lords of the Grand Duchy:
"I hear the Grand Duke's daughter subdued a bison heavier than a hundred soldiers with one fist."
"Good heavens. I don't care how big a bison is — heavier than a hundred soldiers? I'd sooner believe it was a dragon wearing a cow's skin."
"It does stretch the imagination. Although… they do say the young lady has been neglecting her heir's lessons, hmm?"
"Heh. But she has overwhelming martial power, does she not? The first virtue of a ruler of the North has already been seen to, I'd say."
"Quite right. His Grace the Grand Duke was, by his own admission and everyone else's, the finest warrior of his youth. The lady clearly inherited her father's valor."
"Perhaps something even beyond that. I've never once heard a tale of His Grace subduing so massive a beast with his bare hands."
Given the culture of the Eisenmark Grand Duchy up in the North, these reactions were only natural. Here, strength was the power to protect oneself — and at the same time, proof of one's fitness to rule.
Father, the current Grand Duke, had made his name through martial prowess in his youth, and still does today; it played a decisive role in raising him to his present seat.
My neglect of the heir's lessons was a clear flaw in a future ruler, but it seemed that flaw was, for now, papered over by the advantage of transcendent physical strength.
Am I supposed to call that a blessing…?
But the reactions of the two people who mattered most were nothing like the world's.
News that their daughter had subdued a giant bison with a single punch reached the Grand Duke and Duchess even as they toured the northern territories.
Father's letter read as follows:
Katerina! I heard the rumors. That's my blood in you, all right!
But skipping your lessons to sneak outside, are we?
There's nothing wrong with playing hooky now and then, but if you're skipping every lesson, even I can't shield you from that.
So have your fun — just not so loudly that it reaches my ears.
— Father
Mother's letter, on the other hand…
You, an heiress of the Grand Duchy, brawling with some bison amid the common rabble.
Are you not the daughter of House Eisenmark, the one who will one day rule this land? Mind your dignity, I beg you.
Great power comes with great responsibility. If a ruler cannot maintain her majesty, how is she to hold the northern lords in check?
And to think you skipped your heir's lessons as well.
When I return, we are going to have a talk. A long one.
— Mother
"Uu, uuaaah…."
Mother's letter carried a scolding far harsher than the ones preserved in Katerina's memories. Fitting, I suppose, for a woman who was the Chosen of the Thunder God and a holy maiden (a married one, these days) — the whole time I read it, I could practically hear thunder rumbling directly over my head.
So the mother being scarier than the father holds true in every world, huh….
"My lady, today we shall study the fundamentals of domain management."
I nodded at the tutor's voice. Spread neatly across the desk were documents cataloguing the products and tax systems of every region in the Grand Duchy.
Ever since I received Mother's stern letter of reprimand and warning, I had resolved to become a diligent student.
On Eliza's advice, I'd cut back my sickbed visits too — no more lingering to deepen personal friendships, just brief, political well-wishes. And sneaking out of the estate? I wouldn't even dream of it now.
Truthfully, this is the more sensible path — the proper daily life of a noble daughter.
From a modern person's perspective, this was what a noble daughter of this era ought to be doing: learning domain management and aristocratic etiquette, sharpening her political instincts. These were the qualities a future ruler would need.
And yet…
Boring. This is so boring, you know. I want to go out and pla— no, no. Not boring. Not boring at all.
Katerina, whom I'd believed to be fast asleep in the depths of my heart, was throwing a tantrum. To her, this daily grind of sitting rooted in a chair, reading documents, taking notes, and listening to the tutor was apparently the equivalent of torture.
It's been barely two days since she last sat through a proper lesson and she's already dying. Has she ever once managed three straight days of actual class in her life?
Reining in Katerina's instincts was no easy feat. Her body simply refused to endure the sudden drop in activity.
Eventually, my wandering gaze drifted naturally elsewhere — toward the maids who bustled back and forth between the study and the rest of the mansion.
At first I thought nothing of it beyond, ah, the maids are working. If I hadn't been living inside Katerina, my observation would never have gone any deeper than that.
But I was not the original owner of this body — not the "Death and Young Lady" herself. As I kept watching the maids, certain patterns began to emerge. A strict, intricate hierarchy, for one.
At the top of the pyramid sat the maids of petty noble birth. They monopolized the handling of the study's treasures and books. Their elegant bearing and refined speech were striking, out of all proportion to the actual work they did.
Next came the daughters of wealthy merchant families. A few had earned their way to high positions on merit alone, but for the most part they took their orders from the noble-born maids.
And at the very bottom were the commoner maids, who found it nearly impossible to cross an invisible boundary line, no matter how many years they served.
Eliza, of course, was the exception. She could use magic, and she was — by my own admission and everyone else's — my closest confidante.
This is… an entire miniature society, isn't it.
Seen through a modern person's eyes, it all struck me as newly fascinating. Katerina had never once paid any mind to such things, but the world of the maids was governed by rules this intricate.