The Lady Apologizes Under Duress
"Are you toying with me right now?"
The Grand Duchess looked utterly dumbfounded at my words — words that could fairly be called the most shameless utterance in all the world. But then, Rebecca had been certain of her victory. She hadn't simply lost; she'd been defeated by a cowardly trick, at that. If anything, her blood should have been boiling hotter, not cooling down.
Still, as the saying goes, the best defense is a good offense. The only person who escapes a situation like this is not the one who bows their head, but the one who charges forward with even greater shamelessness.
So I decided to charge forward.
"Not at all. I am in an extremely serious state of mind at this very moment."
"Then what on earth was that remark just now...?"
"That, too, was an extremely serious remark, my lady."
"···."
The look the Grand Duchess fixed on me carried a clear message: I cannot believe someone like you actually exists.
Just how full of that thought did she have to be to express it through her eyes alone? Truly fitting of the Munchkin Young Lady, I suppose.
"Let's think this through. In the course of my explaining the staring contest bet to you, did I ever say there was something you must not do?"
"······No, but that's—"
"Then this conversation is over. What more is there to discuss?"
"···."
Faced with my shameless tone, Rebecca looked as though she had a mountain of things she wanted to say. But she could not argue back — because my words contained not a single crack.
I had never told her that dirty tricks were forbidden, and she had never raised the matter before we began the staring contest. If Rebecca had truly taken this contest seriously, the correct course would obviously have been to negotiate such rules in advance. She hadn't, and so this situation was her own karma, to be swallowed with good grace.
She had countless things she wanted to say, yet nothing she could actually say. A dead-end situation — in plain terms, a situation with no solution. That was Rebecca's predicament right now.
"You won't be apologizing, then?"
"Ha. You win by such a cowardly method, and you expect an apology from me?"
Pressed by my demands for an apology, Rebecca refused to acknowledge her defeat, as if to declare she would never, ever say sorry.
But truly, regrettably — once again, I had a plan all ready.
"Very well, then. I suppose I'll have to resort to another method."
"······Another method?"
Rebecca glared at me sharply, as if wondering what I'd come up with this time. That piercing gaze, carrying what might even have been killing intent, would have been more than an ordinary person like me could withstand.
But my competitive pride — the refusal to ever lose to that deranged lunatic of a Grand Duchess — was what kept me standing.
"If you will not apologize to me, my lady, then I shall walk out of this room at once and tell everyone in the empire that the illustrious Lady Rebecca is a rotten cheat."
"A rotten cheat? What kind of nonsense is—"
"If breaking your own word isn't being a rotten cheat, then what is?"
"···."
At my words, the Grand Duchess looked utterly bewildered, a dozen thoughts crossing her face at once. She was probably thinking something along the lines of: What is this lunatic saying? He can't actually be serious. ······Though somehow, I get the feeling this lunatic really would do it.
"······You're joking, right?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"No. On second thought... no, I don't suppose you do."
At my perfectly earnest tone — at how seriously I seemed to mean it — the Grand Duchess finally understood. Ah. This one really is a lunatic.
I had, in effect, just been branded a madman to my face. But I did not regret it.
To catch a tiger, you must enter the tiger's den. To catch a villain, you must become a villain. And by that same logic, anyone with common sense knew that to catch a deranged lunatic of a Grand Duchess, one had to become a lunatic oneself.
"Fine. Do as you please. People will believe me, the Grand Duchess, over your word anyway."
Realizing that persuading me was impossible, Rebecca seemed to switch strategies, deciding to leverage her influence instead.
It was a rather sound approach. I was merely the son of a Count's house, while Rebecca was the only daughter of House Valencia — one of only two ducal families in the entire Empire.
It went without saying that if she and I spoke of the same matter at the same time, far more people would believe her.
But there was one fact Lady Rebecca had overlooked. Namely, that I was her fiancé.
"Well, if that's how my lady feels, then by all means — I'll spread the word that you threw yourself at me, exactly as you suggest people should trust your word over mine."
"······Wait, what did you just say?"
Rebecca asked, as if she must have misheard. But regrettably, there was nothing wrong with the lady's ears.
"I said I would spread the rumor that you attempted to force yourself upon me."
"That's— that's utterly absurd! It's a lie!"
The Grand Duchess countered with what was, admittedly, a fairly logical objection.
"And what does that matter? The only people who know what happened in this room are you and I."
"···."
Logic was of no use whatsoever against me, now that I had committed to brazening my way through this fight to the bitter end. Just as I'd said, the only people in this parlor were Rebecca and myself. Whatever lie I invented, the only person who could call it false was Rebecca herself.
"······Do as you like. Even so, no one in the Valencia Ducal Family will believe I did any such thing."
Backed into a corner, the Grand Duchess brazened it out just as before — who would ever believe such a thing?
But there was a subtle difference between then and now.
"The members of the Ducal Family will naturally believe your word over mine."
"You're well aware, then. So stop wasting time and just quietly—"
"But what if I tell it not to the people of the Valencia Ducal Family, but to other nobles?"
"···."
She hadn't thought that far. The realization — oh no — flashed swiftly across Rebecca's face.
She knew better than anyone that gossip-loving aristocrats would never let such a titillating morsel slip past them. The nobles of high society were lunatics who hunted for entertainment more avidly than anyone, and whether it concerned someone's private life or someone's shameful secret mattered not one whit to them.
Even — and especially — if the rumor was false rather than true.
The Grand Duchess seemed to realize she'd been well and truly caught. Her voice, so boldly assertive mere moments ago, had somehow shrunk into a timid, trembling murmur.
"······Surely the other nobles wouldn't believe that kind of—"
"They would. Isn't that exactly why you're so nervous right now, my lady?"
"···."
Watching Lady Rebecca's eyes tremble like aspen leaves put me in a rather fine mood indeed. A refreshing coolness spread through my chest, along with the sweet taste of victory — I had won the war of words at last.
And so the lady, whose eyes had been darting about in panic, finally raised the white flag.
"······What do you want me to do?"
"Have I not already told you? You need only apologize to me, sincerely, for what you said earlier."
"······Sorry."
I'm sorry, what was that? Had something actually just been said? Lady Rebecca had clearly attempted to utter some words, but her voice was so faint that not a syllable reached me.
Naturally, I demanded she repeat the apology.
"And this is the same lady who was shouting at the top of her lungs at me just moments ago. Now your voice is quieter than an ant crawling across the floor."
"···."
"If you don't apologize properly, I will inform the newspaper affiliated with my father's county to print that you assaulted me."
"······I'm sorry."
Only after my warning did Rebecca finally apologize in a voice a human being could actually hear.
But I had absolutely no intention of forgiving her for a mere halfhearted apology.
"Precisely. Specifically, what exactly are you sorry for?"
"······Must you really go this far..."
Rebecca glared at me with resentful eyes, as if to ask why she had to be tormented to such an extent.
"Newspaper."
"···."
At that single word from my lips, her pretty mouth clamped firmly shut.
"······I said I'm sorry."
"Pardon? I can't hear you at all, my lady."
"I'm sorry for saying you looked disgusting the moment I saw you!"
And so Lady Rebecca ended up shouting her apology at me at full volume. Perhaps she found the sight of herself so unbearably mortifying that a faint sheen of tears had gathered at the corners of her eyes.
Wow. I won.
Of course, I paid Rebecca's state not the slightest heed, too intoxicated by the fact that I had defeated the illustrious Lady Rebecca and received a polite apology from her to boot.
But it was not yet over. What is received must be returned — having accepted her apology, surely the proper courtesy now was to grant her forgiveness.
"I have heard your apology, my lady. Out of special consideration for the dignity of Lady Rebecca, my own fiancée, I shall forgive you."
"···."
"This is the part where you say thank you, my lady."
"······Just you wait."
As she spoke, the Grand Duchess's whole body trembled with indignation. Her words were positively murderous, yet with those tears welling at the corners of her eyes as she trembled and fumed, she was not the least bit frightening.
It was the expression of a six-year-old child whose favorite toy had just been taken away. In any case, thoroughly unthreatening.
"You wish to see me again? I'm deeply moved, my lady."
"···."
Never forgetting to tease Rebecca until the very last moment, I slipped out of the parlor.
"Young Master Albert... our Rebecca, is she...?"
Stepping outside, I was greeted by the Duchess of Valencia, who had vacated her seat earlier.
"Everything has been resolved amicably, so you needn't worry."
"Really? Thank goodness."
I relayed to the Duchess only the facts (or what passed for them).
I had received an apology, so "resolved amicably" was fair enough, wasn't it?
"The Grand Duchess asked to see me again next time."
"Is that true?"
"Yes. Truly."
"Oh, thank goodness..."
Watching the Duchess of Valencia wear an expression of such genuine relief made something ache faintly in my chest.
But at least none of what I'd told her was a lie.
Probably.