The Defeated Heroine's Counterattack: "Together? No Need."
"Together? You don't have to."
I was a bit surprised. Daniela hurriedly rummaged through the room for something—cosmetics or new clothes, maybe. She stripped off the dress she'd been sobbing into. Her movements were lightning-fast.
"Ah, sorry."
I finally noticed her glance and turned away. Her changing speed picked up even more. It wasn't a dress, but she quickly found fresh clothes. The sound of her footsteps—tap-tap-tap.
Bored, I'd been stroking the bed. The noise from outside was growing louder. Truth be told, Leor's thunderous bellows drowned everything else out; only his voice really carried. Occasionally, there were scuffling sounds too.
I wasn't worried. They'd handle it themselves.
"All ready?"
That should be enough time. I turned around. Black clothes, pants from the North. Where'd those come from? She was tying a cord tightly around her waist. Surprisingly, the black pants fit her perfectly. The top was black too—almost like Southern men's attire.
"You had clothes like that here?"
"They were my brother's. He's away now, but they come in handy for times like this."
"You look cool. Really cool."
In the midst of all the commotion, it felt like a fashion show. She spun once, the black outfit proclaiming her newfound confidence. Her short blonde hair fluttered. Had she found a fresh resolve?
"Um... Grand Duke."
"Yeah?"
"You said it was okay to call you Wintergard. Right?"
"That's right."
"Then please give me permission."
"For what?"
I caught a fierce glint in Daniela's eyes, one I'd never seen before. Like a dying flame latching onto dry tinder. It seemed like a vow not to let things end like this.
"I'm not your wife yet."
"Not yet."
"Honestly, I still don't get it. Why you're being like this with me."
"I get it."
"Maybe... you just said it because you pitied me?"
"That was the start. Yeah."
"But I'm confident now. Especially after living in the North."
Was she saying she was the most worthy of Wintergard? From the moment she named Leor's child? Or when the Bart family cast her out? I couldn't tell.
"Let's try that cliché romance from pulp novels."
"Sounds good."
"But right now, just this once... Grand Duke."
Please let me do this for myself. Make it so no one sees me as pitiful. Show them I haven't lost my dignity yet.
Daniela's unspoken plea struck home. My vague feelings sharpened. But not yet—not quite. Northern winters are brutal. But spring is bearable. Some places even bloom. Red plum blossoms on the trees.
"Let's do it!"
I sprang from the bed. The hallway outside was bound to be chaos. Leor's shouts were intensifying. Exactly what I'd wanted. Before we even entered Bart territory for the first time. I'd pictured how I'd arrive with Daniela.
I made space in the arm I'd tucked into my pocket. Daniela slipped her hand in carefully. Close enough to my side, but not too close. Just enough to seem like a proper escort.
"Leor, open the door."
"G-Grand Duke."
Leor swung the door wide. A few people lay sprawled on the floor. Guards lined the corridor, while some nobles clutched their sides. At least no one was dead—small mercies.
"Leor."
"G-Grand Duke, Your Grace. Wh-what should I d-do with these guys?"
"Leave them. If they're alive, they've grown stronger."
"Be grateful for the mercy!"
Leor bellowed suddenly. My ears rang. The Grand Duke emerged from the room. One guard bolted back to report the news.
How could I best achieve Daniela's goal?
"Theodore."
What?
"Such a racket."
"Y-yeah."
I faltered. Not just me—Leor looked stunned too. Our eyes met. His mouth hung slightly open, as if asking, Is this okay? We'd been trying to put on a show.
"Leor, why all the noise?"
"Uh, w-well, that is..."
Leor was the most flustered. Not his usual stammer—this was genuine panic. He'd offered to escort the Bart family head first. No issues there, but they wanted to meet us immediately.
"We'll sort this mess and meet them. Where?"
"Y-Your Grace, just wait, and we'll h-handle..."
Guards rushed from the corridor's end. The Crown Prince wished an audience. They'd tried dragging him out at first but failed. After repeated flops, he'd surrendered.
"No idea why he wants to see me. That's reason enough. No need to grovel."
"Theodore, why not meet him?"
"Hmm, maybe."
"Maybe he'll apologize? For being rude."
Daniela giggled softly. She knew better than anyone that wasn't likely.
The venue was the banquet hall. It stood empty, save for a handful of workers—not nobles—tidying up. But Leroy, the guy whose arm Leor nearly severed, the Crown Prince, and Cartina de Bosch were there. They'd set up a modest space. A round table; the Crown Prince and Leroy sat, while Cartina stood waiting for us. They'd patched up roughly—Leroy had bandages.
"What's this about?"
Daniela spoke first as we entered. Leor trailed me.
"His Highness insisted on seeing you, Your Grace."
Cartina's gaze wasn't on me—it fixed on Daniela. She'd drawn closer to my side, practically glued now. Daniela's hand trembled faintly. Leor scanned from behind with sharp eyes, then whispered that it was safe.
Time for some madness, then. But I wasn't the only one brimming with it.
"Theodore, that was too much. He's still the son of a Southern admiral."
"I taught him manners. Who does he think he is?"
Before sitting, I pulled out a chair. Only one seat faced them. But it wasn't for me—I yielded it to Daniela. She took my hand and settled gracefully.
"So, you wanted to see me."
"Still so rude. Now that you know who I am, show proper respect!"
The Crown Prince shot up. Cartina stood behind him. Leor's eyes widened again. A faint clink of metal.
"Respect. Understood, Your Highness. Servant of the Emperor, guardian of the North..."
I stepped close to the Crown Prince. Closer still, invading even a single person's space. To onlookers, his face would seem right at my throat.
"Theodore Wintergard. The North bows only to the strong. I wonder if Your Highness truly is."
"I-I am the noble son of the Empire's Emperor..."
Ignoring his droning, I turned back to Daniela. Hand on her chair's back, I eyed them coolly.
"So, what's the problem?"
Daniela spoke first. The Crown Prince sat again. The table split neatly in two—like North and South. Though the South usually had the better half. Imagine the map flipped.
"I came for an apology."
"An apology?"
"For drawing a sword recklessly where Your Highness was. And using force on another noble. And—"
How to elevate Daniela sky-high? I slid my hand from the chair to her shoulder.
"My—"
"Hold on, Theodore."
Daniela's hand overlaid mine. Our eyes met. I knew what she meant.
"I apologize for the rudeness before Your Highness. But by Northern rules, it was only natural. Such insolence."
"This is the Empire, not the North. Empire rules trump Northern ones."
"I know. But that's not the point."
Daniela's hand shook. Still tense. I perched casually on the table, feigning boredom. The Crown Prince and that young lord stared at my back.
Softly, but firmly.
"How could any man sit idle while his betrothed is insulted?"
"What do you mean?"
"I said, how could any man sit idle while his betrothed is insulted?"
Leor was the most shocked. Unlike before, he glanced around wildly. His eyes darted between me and Daniela. Why?
"If this were the North, Leroy would've died like a dog."
"Y-you bitch!"
Leroy lurched up. Not even whack-a-mole—he was popping up and down.