The Lovers' Game
Hold on, hold on—no one come in. A person's heart and their political savvy aren't proportional at all. It's been about twenty years since I became the Northern Grand Duke, and quite some time since the North turned into a livable place. But this kind of ordeal? It was a first.
You know how it is—when someone suddenly starts liking you a ton, how should you react? Should you play it cool and not let on? Or just come out and say you like them too?
Anyway, long intro aside.
"I like everything about you."
"Because it's fun, and I wanted to try it once."
She said she'd found an amusing game. Wait, was there a lovers' game in volume three of Atlas? I couldn't remember. Volume three was all politics, as far as I recalled.
A game for lovers. Daniela drew closer. Something was in her hand—a tiny stick. A broken pen nib, basically.
Daniela sat facing me. It was straight out of a cheap romance novel. But first things first. I couldn't miss this chance.
"Anyone out there?"
As I glanced at the door, a knock came immediately. I said come in, and one of my guards cracked the door, bowing his head without fully entering. Just as I thought.
"No matter what noise you hear from inside, no matter what happens—I'll handle it myself. Stay far back. No one comes near this room."
"B-but if some threat comes to Your Grace—"
Daniela turned her head, blushing. I said nothing, just stared him down steadily. No sense of timing, you. But he shut the door quick and vanished. Outside, he was yelling that it was the Grand Duke's orders—no one enters the room.
"Th-that's embarrassing..."
"Nah. Better safe."
Obstacles cleared. I faced Daniela again. A lovers' game. My mind jumped straight to something naughty. But we weren't there yet. Let's take it slow.
"So, what game?"
"Ah, well... I feel like you and I don't know much about each other."
Hm. I stroked my chin. Not much in common, huh? Come to think of it, I didn't know much about Daniela either. Back in the book, she was just your typical defeated heroine, and the Northern Grand Duke barely got a chapter.
"We take turns asking questions."
"Sounds good."
"But no lies allowed. If you lie..."
Daniela demonstrated the penalty with her stick—snapping it against the back of her hand with a crack.
But how would she know if I lied? Suddenly, I remembered Alfredo's teasing remark: Reading a man in love is easy.
"How'll you tell if I'm lying?"
"That's why it's a lovers' game, right?"
"Fair enough. Deal."
No reason to lie anyway. Daniela went first. What would she ask? Nothing weird, I hoped.
"What's your name?"
"Theodore. Or precisely, Theodore von Ardorno Iphera Wintergard."
"Good."
With that, the stick passed to me. Her pale hand brushed mine. Naughty thoughts again. No one's outside, right? But not yet—not yet.
"Hm, now that I think about it, I don't know much either. How old are you, Daniela?"
"I'll be twenty-one this year."
"Good."
I handed the stick back. Quite the age gap. Nearly ten years. Kinda makes me feel like a cradle-robber.
"Then how old are you, Your Grace?"
"Tw... twenty-nine?"
"Liar. Hand."
At least fudge it a little. I offered my hand. The stick tapped lightly—tap.
Daring to strike the Grand Duke's body. Insolent! But saying that would kill the mood.
"You get one more chance if you lie."
"Oh? Fine. What then?"
"Why did you want me as your Grand Duchess?"
The question hit sudden and hard. Her eyes met mine, full of sincerity. Reasons for making her Grand Duchess. I could be honest, mix in a lie, or both.
"Just honest answers, right?"
"Yes. I won't get hurt."
"Really?"
"No... I'd be hurt a lot, actually..."
Hm, trickier now. Needed to hide my feelings but stay direct.
"Partly pity at first. Whether you messed up or not, you didn't plan to end up here. Right?"
She nodded. Beating around the bush a bit.
"Then I thought you could be a bridge to the South. But that didn't pan out."
"True..."
Deeper now, and she'd get hurt. Sure thing. Truth was, politics played a part. The North's economy teetering; leveraging the South's position for more voice. But to do that...
"Honestly, for pure politics, some other lady would fit better. If it was just a strategic marriage."
"..."
"But I couldn't. The moment I saw you in the Winter Chamber, that thought stuck."
"Wh-what thought?"
"Beautiful. Pretty. And this is embarrassing."
Daniela just stared. I looked away first. First time since becoming Grand Duke that I'd dodged someone's gaze head-on.
"Just... whatever."
"Be honest."
"I wanted you. That's what it was."
Strange. The first Daniela was just a broken woman. Not her choice, chased to the far North, family lost, wandering. The most pitiable in that Winter Chamber huddle. And the most beautiful.
But later glimpses showed a beautiful, intelligent woman. Sure, she occasionally bungled Northern customs, but still. So I wanted her. Anyone would think that.
"My turn now."
"Eh? N-not yet!"
"No, my turn. I didn't lie."
I didn't have the stick, but I claimed it anyway. Looked into her eyes. Those blue irises shone especially bright.
"What about you? You could've refused the Grand Duchess spot. If you wanted to stay with House Bart, I would've made it happen."
She nodded. The Crown Prince and that Southern punk would've complicated it, but I could've managed. Yet she didn't refuse. Come to think of it, she confessed first. Suggested we try being lovers. All her.
"I'm always the same."
"What?"
"My answer. I like you—the Grand Duke, no, Theodore."
Silence for seconds. Maybe I'd been reading between the lines all along. Words aren't everything; gestures, tiny movements reveal hearts. Maybe I felt it too. As Northern Grand Duke, I had to.
But this feeling—being truly liked, not vassal loyalty? Rare.
"M-my turn."
"What do you want to know?"
I placed a hand on her waist, pulled her slowly closer. Not fully, but she startled—yet didn't pull away. She'd have bolted if repulsed.
"You said I was beautiful?"
"Yeah."
I barely heard the question. She was in my arms now. Her hand on my chest, my face drawing near.
"Where was I so beautiful?"
"Everywhere?"
"Not like that... The most beautiful part."
"Well..."
The answer didn't matter. My finger tapped her forehead—tap. Traced down slowly. Along her nose bridge, brushing her eyes, her nose. Lower, grazing her lips. I stroked her cheek.
With Daniela, the room always felt especially warm. Sometimes hot. Now, not hot or cold, but my body trembled. And a sweet scent filled the air. Violets. Purple violets everywhere.
Her lips too. No sound but the soft pop of lips parting at the end.
She heard it too—that split-second smack, echoing in my ears.
"Your Grace..."
"You're surprisingly shy."
Her face flushed crimson. I touched her lips with my finger. Where mine had been.