Women's Power Struggles Are Always Terrifying
Women's power struggles are always terrifying—a true powder keg ready to blow. I gazed down at the Crown Prince, scrutinizing his face. He wore an expression of fear mingled with utter frustration, as though no one had ever dared look down on him like this before. Truth be told, I didn't think I'd ever tried to bulldoze someone so forcefully either. Or had I? With the nomads, maybe, or during the rebellion suppressions.
"Step aside, or accept the duel."
"You bastard! I won't stand for this any longer!"
The Crown Prince shot up from his seat and shoved at me. Of course, with those spindly wrists of his, I barely budged a step—but a man blind to his crumbling authority couldn't withstand even that much pressure. I could only smirk.
Thanks for clearing out. Perfect.
"So you're yielding your seat? Crystal clear now."
I snatched the Crown Prince's sleeve as he loomed around the chair. He gritted his teeth, resisting with his whole body in a desperate bid to hold his ground. But this weakling's frame couldn't overcome Northern strength. I shoved him aside and claimed the head seat.
"Much better. Now scram."
The moment he staggered to the side, I sat down. He flailed futilely, unable to approach as he tried to reclaim it. The instant he edged closer, hoping to crush me like I'd done to him, Leor stepped in first.
"Let go of me, you ignorant fool! I am the Crown Prince of the Empire!"
"This seat belongs to His Grace the Grand Duke. It suits the ruler of the North's countless souls—not some empty-headed prince with nothing to his name."
Leor's breath came steady. The longest sentence I'd ever heard from him without a stutter. He only ever trips over his words with me. I'd told him to work on that habit, but it never stuck.
The Crown Prince couldn't advance an inch against Leor's single hand. With the chair now mine, I glanced sideways. On the opposite side from where Leor restrained the struggling prince, the women's battle raged on.
Daniela and Cartina. It was impossible to tell anymore who was the victorious heroine and who the defeated one.
"I hope you've been well? You look lovely as ever."
"Of course. His Highness the Crown Prince cherishes me so."
They were sparring in that subtle feminine code. It sounded like mere pleasantries, but the barbs stung all the same. Daniela asserting that I was above, she below—while Cartina drove home that Daniela was nothing more than a failed heroine through her ties to the prince.
"Is that so? Thanks to His Grace the Grand Duke's affections, I've been faring quite well myself."
"I'm glad to hear it. You seemed so heartbroken back at the Imperial Academy."
The de Bosch chit dragged up the one memory Daniela most wanted to bury. I'd meant to ask her about it someday—how it felt to be expelled. Was she tormented? Relieved? Honestly, I never thought she deserved it. Even if they bowed to imperial pressure after the engagement broke, Daniela was still a lady of the Bart family.
"Indeed. I was so worried for the Empire's future. His Highness fell too deeply in love."
"That's how much he cherished me."
"Yet men still duel over you?"
"How can you say such a thing... His Highness and I are always together..."
"Didn't the young lords of various houses duel over you?"
Sharp words. In truth, the Empire's noble factions had started fracturing oddly because of Cartina. A scramble for one woman—but laced with tangled interests. Even if a war started over a single beauty, ending it took far more effort. The novel glossed over it, but this was a real world. Cartina's pleas alone wouldn't suffice.
"I often think about it—my future by His Highness's side. How hard it must be to serve a man who doesn't know himself."
"And you think that while by the Grand Duke's side?"
"Of course. His Grace brings me only happiness."
"Hah, my Crown Prince does the same."
"Does he now?"
Daniela chuckled softly. The laughter grew, drowning out even the Crown Prince's thrashing. I was flustered too—it sounded just like a villainess's cackle. Leor, still holding the prince with one hand, blanched at the sight. First time I'd seen him fear a person. This was the general who charged nomads on horseback.
"What about Leroy, then? The Eastern Mage Tower heir must be heartbroken."
"Why bring them up out of nowhere?"
"Because they're the ones who humiliated me at the Academy."
Now it felt like a revenge drama was kicking off. But if I faced them all... who knows? I could lose! One-on-one was manageable, but a group? Tough.
"But I've forgotten it all. I'm the Grand Duchess now. Grand Duchess."
"Congratulations."
"Yet I can't figure why your neck's so stiff."
She pressed down—eerily like what I'd done to the Crown Prince. Spot on, too. My dynamic with him mirrored the Empire versus the Northern Duchy. But Daniela had every right to stand by my side. The North already knew her as Grand Duchess, and her personal banner signified real status.
"I asked why your neck's so stiff."
"G-Grand Duchess Daniela..."
"His Highness may stand above, but you're not him, are you?"
Daniela's words, laced with laughter, brooked no argument. True enough. The Crown Prince and Cartina weren't even formally engaged—Daniela's case was the outlier. He was hounded from all sides, with ministers urging him to reconsider the Bart betrothal. But once Daniela came North, everything derailed. Had she died, he couldn't marry a ghost, and Cartina could've smoothly taken her place. But here she was, hale and hearty—as Grand Duchess of the North!
"Go to your place. You don't belong up here."
That mocking sneer. Cartina felt it fully, packed with meanings—but one crystal clear: The gap between us can't be bridged. No matter how much the prince adored her, he was powerless here.
"Daniela!"
"How dare you address the Grand Duchess so casually!"
Cartina's shriek echoed through the room. Daniela fired back undaunted. I'm scarier. Me.
"I told you to step down. Does House de Bosch know no decorum?"
"What did you say? Decorum?"
Now they'd grab hair? I didn't want to see that. Besides, Daniela's words rang utterly true. Why else was Marquis Roland kneeling silently, watching our faces? Even after casting her out, she was his blood. And he held his tongue for one reason: the book.
Cartina's words were outright rude to any ear.
"How dare you call Her Grace by name!"
Leor reacted first, shoving the Crown Prince—who fell on his ass, rubbing it—and marching toward Cartina. He was riled up. Monumental discourtesy—Grand Duchess and a baron's daughter were worlds apart.
"Enough, Leor. Stand down."
"Y-Your Grace... C-cut out that w-woman's tongue, p-please."
"I said stand down."
"Forgive my impertinence!"
At my word, Leor slammed his forehead to the floor, flat as a board. Looked like I was the only one who could sort this traffic jam.
I stared down the Crown Prince a moment longer, then approached Daniela.
"De Bosch chit. Such foul mouth."
"Th-that's—"
"I'd teach you manners, but I'll let it slide this once."
That'd do. Tempers were boiling over; no one had control. Not even me.
"But there's no second time. If this rudeness repeats after today..."
I stroked my chin.
"I'll erase your house from this continent. Understood?"
The power struggle was over.