A Lady's Grace and Comrades' Oath
There stood a woman who looked as if she had just stepped out of an etiquette manual, utterly perfect.
Victor let out a soft chuckle at Matthias's reaction, but in truth, he felt much the same.
The summer sunlight pooled on the hem of her white dress like a cat lounging in the warmth.
The low-necked gown, following the current fashion from neck to shoulders, accentuated her slender neckline, while the translucent fabric gathered into subtle ruffles flared out just enough to lend her the graceful poise of a swan.
And what of her posture, with her gloved hands neatly clasped together? She could have been escorted straight to a ballroom without a hint of impropriety.
In short, the worries Matthias had harbored—that she might struggle to pass as a high-ranking noble—evaporated the moment Ibel appeared, drifting off into the distance.
Especially her characteristically expressionless face, which gave off an air that even subordinates might hesitate to approach.
While everyone else was stunned, Ibel alone seemed utterly unperturbed.
Victor, spotting a faint flicker of annoyance in her amber eyes, felt a touch of amusement.
"It suits you well."
The compliment was sincere. Ibel glanced at him with a hint of surprise, then shrugged.
"The uniform is far more comfortable."
"Have you ever learned social dances?"
"Regrettably, yes."
"Excellent."
Considering her exceptional aptitude for learning, he had allotted two months. But at this rate, a generous month would suffice.
Once she adapted, his plan was to return to the estate first and come back for her at the end. That, too, seemed feasible now.
"Starting tomorrow, articles about us will begin appearing. From the gossip rags to the daily papers."
"Understood."
"Today, we'll be seen taking a stroll in the nearby park. Does that suit you?"
"No issue... No, it's fine."
Catching her instinctive military phrasing, Ibel awkwardly softened the ending. The grand duke's lips curved ever so slightly upward—a subtle sign of his approval.
In the meantime, Banya bustled forward excitedly to address the grand duke.
"My goodness, how could I not be surprised while helping her prepare? You could tell the fabric's origin just by touching it, knew instantly which embroidery was refined and which was tacky. And the shoes—perfect shine and heel height, spot on."
"Is that so."
"Yes, indeed. Things like that aren't learned outside of a great noble house..."
A great noble house.
Ibel snorted inwardly as she listened quietly.
From around age seven, she had been groomed to be sold off as a "valuable commodity" in the future.
A ten-year-old practicing dance until her feet blistered, going without dinner for the slightest breach of etiquette.
Through those harsh, nightmarish years, Ibel had finally become perfect enough to satisfy her greedy parents.
Of course, after fifteen, as Abel started bucking like a wild colt, her parents had no attention left to spare her—not even a grain of rice's worth.
"If you distinguish what I know from what I don't and teach accordingly, it would be a great help."
Ibel placed her hand atop the one he extended courteously.
The simple gesture carried an elegance that was neither lacking nor excessive, drawing gasps of admiration from both Matthias and Banya.
"Do you remember Colonel von Eberstein?"
"Of course."
"I plan to register you as an adopted daughter of the Eberstein family."
Colonel Konrad von Eberstein.
The official owner of this secret residence and a man of considerable rank within the Bayern forces.
One of the twelve who had survived with her to the very bitter end... and like a father to them all. Ibel had revered him as one, too.
"May I see him?"
"Naturally. I've wired him to come here in a month."
To meet the living Colonel von Eberstein. At those words, Ibel's expression brightened.
"You remember how well he played the flute."
"Yes."
"I recall how he always lifted the troops' morale."
His words were brief, but the emotion weighed heavy.
Those days were gone now. Only the two of them remained to share the memories.
Victor gazed at Ibel, exhaling softly.
"Do you have trouble sleeping?"
"My body's far more comfortable than back then, so it's... it's fine."
Truth be told, there was no reason it shouldn't be. The bed the grand duke had provided was luxuriously expensive and thus exceedingly comfortable.
The food, clothes, lotions—all top quality. How could it be anything but easy?
Yet he saw through her lie and said,
"If you can't sleep, come find me. We're to be husband and wife soon—what's a drink between us?"
"I will."
Recognizing it as the grand duke's way of showing care, Ibel accepted quietly.
"Shall we depart then, my lady?"
He was as adept at entering and exiting as ever. He knew well how to avoid making anyone uncomfortable.
It's a fine day.
After days cooped up indoors, she felt stuffy. Perfect weather, too. She could endure the cumbersome dress train for this.
Once in the carriage, Ibel peered out the window, letting the humid breeze wash over her as she took in the streets.
The people bustled with energy, faces alight.
Come to think of it, how long had it been since she'd seen such a sight?
Well, even if war had broken out far away, it was someone else's problem in the capital.
"Are you fine becoming Colonel von Eberstein's adopted daughter?"
"It would be an honor. To me, he was... truly like a father."
He had remained honorable to the end.
Yet Ibel felt even calling his death honorable was an insult to him.
Because I couldn't save him.
To reiterate, she wasn't a surgeon. No matter how genius a physician, one couldn't save lungs pierced through.
Ibel hadn't even stayed by Colonel von Eberstein's side as his breath failed.
He had urged her, almost scolding: Save who you can, quickly.
"I can hardly believe I'll see him again. This time, I want to... do right by him. Even if he won't remember me."
"I feel the same. I'll ensure none of them die in vain this time—no war at all, if possible."
"Ah."
"And if war does come, I'll fight to bring everyone home."
Alone, she never would have dreamed of preventing war.
How fortunate to have regressed alongside the grand duke.
Meeting his deep blue eyes, Ibel inwardly sighed in relief.
If there was something special between them, it was probably called camaraderie.
Couples bound by duty were common enough—what reason not to live together bound by something even stronger than love?
Though sharing a bed... that would feel awfully strange.
What would it be like to sleep body-to-body in peacetime?
They'd done it countless times on the battlefield, so perhaps it wasn't so odd after all...
As she pondered, the carriage slowed to a stop.
They had arrived at Grugapark.
A park famed for its sculptures by world-renowned masters, popular not just for dates but family outings.
Even Ibel, who had avoided leaving school lest her family catch her, had heard of it—well-known among the people.
"Allow me your hand."
"Thank you—er, thank you."
Ah, so awkward.
This lady treatment.
A bit goosebump-inducing, but reminding herself it was all an act, Ibel placed her hand in his.
The coachman, descending from his perch, handed her a parasol—quite suitable for shielding from the afternoon sun.
To onlookers, it was the picture of a perfect couple on a date.
Save for their rather unusual conversation topics.
"Then Your Grace hasn't visited the estate often either."
"Indeed. I left it entirely to my aunt. In doing so, the boys went a bit... astray."
"Astray how...?"
"The younger doesn't speak human words. The elder is taking various lessons to assume an important role in the family later, with good marks overall, but the younger behaves like a beast."