The Grand Duchess Hates to Admit It
The Grand Duchess hated to admit it.
Clack—
The sound of the door locking firmly shut. The distinctive metallic rattle of the lock folded up my hopes of somehow escaping this place and tossed them aside without a second thought.
"······Ugh."
Had the one minute the Duchess had mentioned already passed? A faint ache spread through my legs, and they began to move again.
Dash—
The moment the magic released, Rebecca scrambled as far away from me as she could get.
Not that it amounted to much, since we were on a bed—she didn't even manage three full steps.
"······Don't come any closer."
"···."
Her sharp, prickly voice was thick with wariness. Her red eyes, vivid even in the darkness, stared straight at me, and her absurdly hunched posture made her look exactly like a cat that had just discovered something mysterious.
She was probably on guard because she thought I was planning to do something to her.
Unfortunately(?), I had no such intention whatsoever.
"I won't do anything, so please lower your guard, my lady."
"And how am I supposed to believe that?"
The moment I tried to reason with her, Rebecca shot back with a how could I possibly trust you. Her gaze, which treated me like some kind of criminal, should have stung my pride—but I already knew this argument was pointless.
"If I did try anything, you'd simply overpower me, wouldn't you?"
I had no intention of doing anything to begin with, and besides, it was flatly impossible for me to beat Rebecca by force.
Even after three years of sword training, I couldn't guarantee a victory in raw strength. If Rebecca were to use some strength-enhancing magic, I'd be pinned to the floor before I knew what hit me.
"That's... true."
Rebecca, apparently aware of that fact herself, nodded and conceded the point.
"With the slightest movement, you'd have me subdued in an instant. How could I possibly harm you, my lady?"
"······I suppose so."
Only after I'd patiently explained all the reasons I was harmless did Rebecca finally let her guard down completely.
'······Why does this feel so awful.'
My pride smarted for no good reason.
Wasn't everything I'd just said essentially equivalent to 'Since I, a man, cannot overpower Rebecca, a woman, I am incapable of doing her any harm'?
Granted, not a word of it was a lie. But I had a man's pride, too.
"If anything, I'm the victim in this situation, am I not?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
Rebecca repeated the question as if she couldn't believe her ears. The expression on her face read: this whole situation is already ridiculous enough, and now you're saying WHAT?
"I was merely trying to return to the count's estate as usual, and yet I was forcibly dragged here, wasn't I?"
"That's because you were—you were doing... that... to me, and my mother caught you—"
The Grand Duchess began with an indignant cry, protesting her innocence, but her face gradually flushed and she started to stammer.
She was probably just embarrassed to admit with her own mouth that she had kissed me.
I decided to press that advantage.
"Did you not ask me for a kiss, my lady?"
"···."
"You pleaded so earnestly that I simply obliged······."
"When did I ever plead earnestly!"
Rebecca's face burned redder still as she raised her voice in denial.
She'd let everything else slide, but apparently that one accusation was a bridge too far.
However, I had already anticipated that she would react exactly this way.
"Which is precisely why I asked you again and again, didn't I? Are you sure? I said. Do you truly want this?"
"···."
Rebecca had no retort for that; she simply clenched her mouth shut, her face glowing crimson.
Now was the moment to press the attack.
"So—how did it feel?"
"······How did WHAT feel?"
"Didn't you say you asked me for that kiss because you were curious how I'd feel when you pressed your lips to my cheek?"
"···."
Rebecca refused to open her mouth, too mortified to say another word.
And I decided to tease her further.
"Why can't you answer? Don't tell me you actually enjoyed······."
"······I did."
"······Pardon?"
"I enjoyed it. It felt good."
Right up until the Grand Duchess so coolly admitted she'd enjoyed it—
'Huh?'
I had assumed Rebecca would be too embarrassed to answer, so the response caught me completely off guard, and I found myself utterly flustered.
"Well then, now you have to answer MY question."
"···."
"Did you enjoy it when I kissed you?"
And now the tables had turned, and I was the one under attack.
······This is really not how it was supposed to go.
"Did you enjoy it when I kissed you?"
Albert's voice sounded perfectly composed, as casual as ever—but.
'······I said it out loud.'
Rebecca's heart was pounding wildly.
She had just confessed, honestly and to the man himself, the feelings she'd only ever admitted in the privacy of her own thoughts.
No matter how she tried, she couldn't calm down.
And at the same time, she was curious.
She had honestly admitted that it had felt good—so what answer would her fiancé give her in return?
What would Albert say—Albert, who always wore that insufferable, infuriating smirk—as he stood there looking so uncharacteristically flustered?
She was curious. And, though she'd never admit it, hopeful.
"Why can't you answer? Don't tell me you enjoyed it too—just like I did?"
"···."
Outwardly, she was goading him with her words. Inwardly, however, she found herself hoping her fiancé felt something similar.
They had kissed each other's cheeks. If only she had enjoyed it and he hadn't, that would be as good as losing.
Only if Albert admitted he'd felt the same could it be called a draw between them.
She had lost every single contest so far. She could not afford to lose this one, too.
"The fact that you can't answer says it all, I suppose. Naturally, being kissed by someone like me couldn't possibly have pleased you—"
She was about to press the advantage home when—
"Yes. I enjoyed it."
"···."
Albert admitted it just as bluntly and readily as she had, and her words died in her throat.
Worse, her fiancé seemed to have plenty more to say.
"Enjoyed it doesn't begin to cover it. I was intoxicated. Kissed by a fiancée as beautiful as you—how could I possibly have felt anything less?"
"···."
"There isn't a man in the entire Empire who could remain unmoved by your touch, my lady."
Bombarded by her fiancé's rapid-fire litany of praise—
"······Wha?"
Rebecca uttered a sound from some foreign language entirely.
'What... what is this man saying right now?!!!'
Praise from Albert, praise she had never once heard in all their time together, set her face ablaze—redder than red, beyond any redder it could possibly get.
This was not her usual fiancé.
The Albert she knew was a man who spent his days flashing sly smirks and teasing her mercilessly—not one who laid his affection bare with such earnest sincerity.
And so Rebecca grew even more flustered, and her heart beat even faster.
The fact that she had held the winning hand mere moments ago was completely forgotten. Calming her racing heart was a lost cause.
"······Of course, that was a joke."
"······I'm sorry, what?"
Right up until Albert abruptly reverted to his usual self.
Her heart, which had been so hot it might melt, went cold in an instant.
"I couldn't possibly have thought such things about you, my lady. Not in the normal course of things."
"···."
"If I'd been thinking that way, I'd have confessed my love to you ages ago."
"Go die."
"Pardon?"
Her fiancé asked her to repeat it, as if he'd misheard—
"Go outside and die."
Never in her entire life had Rebecca spoken words more sincere than these.
"Please, just go outside and die."
"···."
Her heart, which had pounded so fervently moments ago, and her face, which had flushed so hot, both felt cheated.
And she was irritated.
Her fiancé, who had flipped his attitude without warning, was certainly irritating.
But her own heart, which had fluttered and raced at Albert's words, was far more irritating.
'Why did that make my heart flutter...'
The mere thought that she had been briefly swept off her feet by a man like that made her mood plummet.
"My lady?"
Her fiancé studied her expression, and seemed to notice that her mood had soured.
"Don't talk to me. You're annoying."
Rebecca snapped. After all, he was the reason she felt this way.
But then—
"I understand you're upset, but please hear me out on just this one thing."
"······What now."
"Saying I enjoyed your kiss—that part was no joke."
And at those words from Albert, her heart went and pounded like a fool all over again.
'······What is wrong with me.'
She felt like an absolute fool.
Heart racing at her fiancé's every word, then chilling over just as fast. What a fool.
She had become the very definition of a fool—and yet, frustratingly, she didn't feel bad about it at all.
He was teasing her, her insufferable fiancé, just as he always did. So why didn't it feel bad?
Rebecca couldn't understand it at all.
And while she was still drowning in that strange, tangled feeling—
"My lady."
That insufferable fiancé's voice came again.
"······What is it NOW."
"Do you happen to have any spare bedding in the room?"
"Bedding? Like, blankets?"
Bedding? Why on earth was he suddenly asking about bedding?
"I've been through a great deal today, you see. I'm rather sleepy."
"What does being sleepy have to do with blank—"
"It's not as though I could sleep under the same blanket as you, my lady. Now could I?"
"······Ah."
Rebecca's face flushed red yet again.
"They're in that wardrobe over there. Sleep there or don't, whatever you like."
"Thank you, my lady."
"Ugh······"
She hated to admit it. But admit it she had to.
Today, once again, she had been utterly, completely defeated by her fiancé.