It Wasn't Me Who Seduced the Dark Grand Duke

"That's impossible."

Erna Zacherete. Twenty-two years old.

For the past several years, I could honestly say I had lived a relatively smooth life. Born the daughter of a prestigious marquisate, I had grown up wanting for nothing. There had been some unhappy times, certainly, but I had overcome them all, and now I spent each day faithfully fulfilling my duties as the head of an honorable house.

At least, that was true up until a moment ago.

"Say that again, Laura. I... what exactly did I do?"

"Oh, honestly, why are you being like this? You handed this to me last night, my lady. You told me to return it to you first thing in the morning."

At my words, Laura, my head maid with her deep brown hair, thrust something toward me with an expression of pure exasperation.

A single letter, of all things.

And there she stood, staring at me as if to ask what on earth my problem was. Sorry, but that was my line.

'There's no way. I collapsed from overwork exactly one week ago, and I only just woke up this morning.'

One week ago, I had lost consciousness while working in my office. The cause: overwork. I'd never been the clever type when it came to cutting corners, even as a child, and I had simply pushed through whatever work came my way—until it finally caught up with me in spectacular fashion. The room had started spinning, and then I dropped like a stone. And I hadn't opened my eyes until this very morning.

"I'm sorry, what did you say? Yes, you did collapse a week ago—but you came to the very next day!"

"...What?"

I woke up after a single day. And then I strolled around as if nothing had happened at all. What kind of situation was this?

"My lady? Are you even listening to me?"

"No. Not at all. I'm terribly sorry, but could you give me a moment to think?"

Having called for a timeout, I pinched my cheek instead of thinking.

'Ow. That hurts.'

Which meant this was, in fact, not a dream.

'This makes no sense. I have no memory whatsoever of the past week. It's as if...'

"...As if someone else had come into my body and then left."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, never mind. Just thinking out loud."

I shook my head quickly, dazed by my own murmur.

'Perhaps it's short-term memory loss. Some reason or other has simply wiped the last week from my mind.'

Yes, that explanation at least made some sense. Losing one's memory was hardly a trivial matter, but perhaps because I'd found a plausible lead, I felt a measure of relief.

"Speaking of 'someone else'—now that you mention it, you did seem rather... off, last week, my lady."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. Normally you spend the entire day working in your office, don't you? So when you suddenly declared a strike, demanding to know why you had to be the one working—honestly, the whole household..."

"Hold on. What did you just say? A strike?"

Which meant... after I came to, I just... didn't work? For an entire week?

"Do you think that was all? The lady who never leaves the estate unless absolutely necessary suddenly went out nearly every day. Everyone was beside themselves with shock."

"..."

"And then you complained about how your wardrobe had nothing but dreary clothes. Next thing we knew, you marched straight into the dressing room and swept up every dress and every piece of jewelry in sight. The whole staff nearly fainted from the chaos."

"What?!"

I shot up from my seat and headed straight for the dressing room.

Since I spent most of my days seated at a desk, I had always preferred comfortable, practical clothing over extravagant dresses. And when it came to colors, I favored soft, understated tones over anything loud or eye-catching.

"Wh... what is all of this?"

Faced with a dazzling riot of dresses crammed into every corner of the room, I froze solid on the spot. A blue gown so densely embroidered with golden thread that even the grandest duchess would save it for a once-in-a-lifetime occasion. A magnificent crimson satin dress that looked born for an opera singer taking the stage. Hats glittering with densely packed feathers and tiny pearls, and high-heeled shoes with ribbons, elegantly stitched in silver thread.

It was as if an entire couturier had been picked up and transplanted wholesale into my home.

"I really... bought all of these myself?"

"That's what I've been telling you. Why are you acting like this? It's almost as if you don't remember any of—oh!"

Laura stopped mid-sentence, her face a portrait of incomprehension. Then her eyes widened to the size of fists and began to gleam.

"I knew it! No wonder something about you seemed off!"

Oh, no.

"Laura? I know this is shocking. Believe me, I'm just as bewildered by the situation as you are. Yes—that's it. It seems I've lost my memory of—"

"You must have worked yourself so hard your head briefly went funny! Isn't that it?!"

"...Huh?"

I faltered for a moment at Laura's outburst. The theory was in a similar key, but the conclusion was somewhat different.

'Still, a little eccentric episode is better than amnesia, I suppose.'

Having completed my calculations at lightning speed, I nodded along eagerly.

"That's right. No wonder I've been feeling so tired lately. Something must have briefly come loose up here."

"See? What did I keep telling you? Rest is important! People don't work themselves into madness one or two at a time, you know—it happens constantly!"

"You're right, Laura. Everything you've said is true. From now on, I'll be sure to rest properly."

Only after I went so far as to promise did Laura finally nod, satisfied.

I let out a silent sigh of relief inside.

Now, then.

"In that spirit, I'm sorry, Laura, but I think I need to rest a while longer."

At my request for her to leave, Laura cast one last worried look my way.

"If you feel at all unwell, you must call for me right away. Promise?"

And so she left, and I was alone in the room. Taking a deep breath, I unfolded the paper in my hand—a letter that a me I had no memory of had asked Laura to deliver to the me of today.

Wonderful. Suspicious from the very first line. Addressing a letter to yourself with your full name.

"Either she's illiterate or she's advertising to the whole world that a third party wrote this."

Misgivings prickled at me, but I held them down and read on.

Earth? South Korea? Where on earth is that supposed to be?

What? Inside my body?

No, wait—more importantly, she realized something? What, exactly?

"The same as a novel? What is that even supposed to mean?"

My head spun at this relentless parade of incomprehensible statements.

I let out a small sigh at the utterly reckless cheerfulness radiating from the page. My head was already a mess, and this woman—who seemed to have a field of flowers blooming where her brain should be—was going to drive me completely insane.

Perhaps sensing my despair across the very fabric of reality.

"Right. Sure. Of course."

If this was all she had to report, wouldn't it have been better to write nothing at all? It wasn't as if anyone needed a joke rubbed in their face right now.

Now what?

The hesitation was palpable in the writing, as were the ellipses—suspiciously many of them. A creeping sense of dread stole over me, and I let my eyes drift slowly down the trail of dots.

Then I froze solid.

"She's insane."

What kind of nonsense was this? What? I slept with who?

Leon Obsidian?

"Don't tell me—that Leon Obsidian?!"

Struck by the shock of it, I remained frozen for a long while.

Leon Obsidian. And who, exactly, was he?

If one were to describe him: the illegitimate son of the previous Emperor, and the current head of the House of Bernstein, Grand Duke of the realm. Beyond that, he was rumored far and wide to be the most beautiful man in the Orden Empire, and its wealthiest magnate besides.

Hearing only that much, one might think him the perfect man.

'But there's one rather enormous problem.'

Namely, that he was the commander of the Holy Knights—men sworn to the Vow of Chastity.

Because of this, high society in the Orden had a special name for him.

The False Marriage Listing of the Century!!!

"And you're telling me I did what with a Grand Duke like that?!"