My New Friend Works Way Too Hard!
……………
As I stepped into the garden, I sank deep into thought.
This visit was a golden opportunity to win over Natasha Volkov, the daughter of Count Volkov, to my side. Considering the influence and wealth her family commanded, this friendship would mean far more than an ordinary acquaintance.
The problem, however, was my approach.
According to Katerina's memories, she had never paid much attention to others. She was usually cold unless she happened to be in a capricious mood.
'But what if I suddenly act like a completely different person and fuss over her……?'
Then my motives would be transparent. She'd be convinced I had some political agenda, and her guard would only go up.
Even I would react that way. Someone who can barely remember you exists suddenly acting all affectionate? It could easily backfire.
"Today's sparring match was rather impressive, I must say."
A brief silence hung over the teacups between us before I was the one to speak first. Natasha's face showed a flicker of surprise.
"My breastplate got quite dented…… but that was thanks to you taking the match so seriously."
"I was merely responding to your courage, Natasha."
At my answer, Natasha's face brightened. With the ice broken, I decided to steer the conversation into deeper waters.
"If it seemed like I was holding back at the start of our match, I'd like to apologize."
I spoke carefully as I accepted my tea. Sure enough, Natasha lowered her head slightly—perhaps to hide a stiff expression.
"I still haven't fully recovered from my injuries, and it had been so long since my last duel that I needed time to find my rhythm again."
The reason she'd had no sparring partners was that Katerina was simply too strong—fencing anyone else bored her. But there was no need to bring that up.
Katerina's philosophy, if you stretched it a little, was something like 'I train because I am weak.' Her fencing master, her hand-to-hand instructor, and even the Grand Duke's own knights were all far weaker than a girl who had never trained a day in her life.
"That aside, your feints were truly impressive, Natasha. One glance told me your fundamentals are remarkably solid."
At my praise, Natasha's expression lit up.
"Your style in particular seems to suit the estoc wonderfully."
Natasha's weapon, the estoc, was a sword specialized exclusively in thrusting. The specialization bordered on the extreme—it hadn't a single cutting edge, ignoring slashing entirely. You could call it a long spike with a hilt.
The more a weapon committed to the thrust, the faster and more precise those thrusts could be—but it demanded genuine skill to master.
As we talked, I diligently combed through Katerina's memories, and one more detail surfaced.
"You didn't use the estoc at the Winter Festival tournament, if I recall. Is it new to you?"
At my words, Natasha's eyes sparkled.
"Lady Katerina, you remembered!"
"Yes. After my crushing defeat at the Winter Festival, I deliberated at length and resolved to change weapons."
She continued her explanation with a serious expression.
"The estoc suits me well. I can use it like a lance on horseback, it punches through mail with ease, and it lets me target the gaps in plate armor."
Katerina's knowledge stirred. Changing one's primary weapon was no small undertaking—Natasha must have agonized over it for a long time.
And her choice was genuinely wise. Slashing weapons like swords and axes, or blunt instruments like maces, depended heavily on physique and raw strength. For someone of average build like Natasha, playing to such advantages would have been difficult. The estoc, a thrusting weapon, was a perfect match for her body.
And one more thing. Watching the speed at which Natasha wielded her estoc, I could see how much effort backed that choice. Sword techniques might be credited to talent, but that kind of blade speed could only come from endless, relentless repetition.
'So even the daughter of Count Volkov trains this devotedly at her martial arts. Truly remarkable.'
The moment I opened my mouth to speak, my thought was converted into Katerina's speech pattern on the way out.
"Natasha works so hard at everything she does. It's truly impressive, I must say."
A simplified turn of phrase, but fortunately my sincerity seemed to come through. A faint flush crept into Natasha's cheeks.
A spring breeze swept through the garden. I could feel the air between us growing noticeably warmer.
……………
"I hear you study all manner of subjects beyond the sword, Natasha. How do you go about it?"
"My study methods? Well, let's see……"
Natasha began explaining her routine. She rose every morning for sword practice, spent the mornings in liberal-arts lessons, and devoted her afternoons to studying estate management and mining.
"I take careful notes in every class, and at night I review everything I learned that day."
"W-wow. That's remarkable, truly……"
The exclamation escaped me reflexively. But inwardly, I felt a pang of disappointment.
'So there really are no shortcuts to studying, huh……'
At that moment, the stray thought surfacing in my head made me flinch.
'Did I just hope there was a shortcut to studying? I already know perfectly well there isn't.'
No—this didn't seem to be my thought at all. This was the kind of thing Katerina would think.
In the middle of my confusion, a sudden impulse seized me, and my body moved on its own. I leaned sharply across the table toward Natasha and grabbed her hand.
"I'm terrible at studying! So I want to rely on a clever, diligent Natasha for help!"
'W-whaaat am I doing?! It's over! I've ruined everything!'
Regret flooded in the instant the words left my mouth. I had painstakingly chosen every phrase to build a pleasant mood, and one impulsive act had shattered it all.
Worse, in my view, what I'd just said was more than open enough to political interpretation. By no stretch of the imagination was it a good move.
Natasha, for her part, went blank the moment her hand was seized, saying nothing. Bewilderment soon spread across her face.
But a moment later, a gentle smile bloomed at the corners of her mouth.
"If I can be of help to you, it would be my honor, Grand Duke's heir."
Gazing at Natasha's smile, I was caught in a momentary reflection. Her expression and tone were polished to an almost excessive degree—a perfectly composed, courtly response, like a noblewoman trained her whole life for it.
How was she interpreting Katerina's—my—sudden outburst just now? Quite possibly, she was reading it as a political victory.
Just as her father, Count Volkov, had done, his daughter Natasha might well believe she had curried favor with Katerina, the future Grand Duke. She might think she'd scored a point for her house.
But that hardly mattered at the moment. Either way, this arrangement would cost neither of us anything. It might even grow into a relationship where we helped each other. A sigh of relief escaped me.
"Doesn't studying that hard ever wear on you, Natasha?"
"It's hard, but……"
Natasha fell silent for a moment, as if deliberating, then went on.
"It's for my family. Thinking of it that way makes it bearable. Although…… sometimes it does get a bit overwhelming."
At her words, I found myself analyzing before I could stop.
Was this calculated too? Emphasizing how hard she worked while simultaneously displaying a deliberate vulnerability? The sort of tactic that stirs the other party's sympathy while lulling them into letting their guard down?
And then a strange impulse swept over me.
'I want to go out and have fun with Natasha…… who studies diligently every single day? Outside the castle?'
A truly absurd thought. I was a modern man, a sensible man—there was no way I would suddenly want to run off and play with Natasha. Outside the castle, no less.
'Then this is…… Katerina's will?'
I gritted my teeth inwardly. But her words kept circling in my head. How she toiled for her family every day, and how sometimes it felt like too much to bear.
And then, quite suddenly, an odd feeling came over me. An urge to show Natasha—she who worked so tirelessly—the simple joys of wandering the streets of Eisenfels and having fun.
'Absolute nonsense!'
This was unmistakably the thinking of a foolish young lady… no, a blockheaded one.
'I nearly wrecked an entire carefully managed conversation with one impulsive move, and now I want to double down and suddenly invite her out to play?'
Who on earth would clean up that mess, and how? It was, frankly, not a sane line of thought.
And yet…… something was off. Something was very off. The thought pulsing through my skull—'Let's go out and have fun with Natasha!'—kept growing louder and louder.
As though someone were whispering it to me—or as though it were simply rising up from inside my own head.
Even I could not hide my bewilderment at the transformation unfolding within my own mind.
My thinking—the thoughts of at least a reasonably cultivated modern man compared to Katerina—was being steadily dyed in the emotions of a headstrong young lady who wanted nothing more than to comfort someone else.