I Didn't Seduce the Dark Grand Duke — Chapter 12

My first thought was this: We're doomed.

And my second thought was this: Something about this feels... off?

"Laura, doesn't this seem strange to you?"

"What does, my lady? The fact that you've suddenly become the center of everyone's attention overnight? Seems like a perfectly natural phenomenon to me."

"No, not that. I'm talking about the composition of this photo. How should I put it... It's too... perfect, isn't it?"

The moment the words left my mouth, Laura let out an ahh, pointed at her own mouth, and grinned.

"So what you're trying to say is that His Highness's face is simply too perfect—ah, I see, it's a proud-fiancée bragging session..."

"No! No, it's not!"

My frustration made my voice rise on its own.

This was no time for that.

This photo... something about it is suspicious.

So that was what had been nagging at me all this while.

Advances in science had given birth to the camera, but the current state of technology had its limits. Unlike painted portraits, the results came only in black and white, and if the subject moved even slightly in the instant the photo was taken, the image came out ruined.

And if the distance was too great, the picture blurred beyond recognition—there was no escaping that.

And yet... this?

"It's absurdly sharp, as if it were taken from right beside him."

One glance was enough to know it was Leon Obsidian.

"Perhaps that's just how long the reporters have been lying in wait? Ever since the first article broke, they must have been trailing His Highness's every move."

"The reporters were tailing him?"

"Yes. It's the hottest topic in the capital right now, after all. How could they not be interested?"

And in the middle of all that, the Grand Duke had gone and visited the Marquisate of Zacherete out of nowhere. Laura argued that sharp-nosed reporters couldn't possibly have missed it.

Right. That was what I'd thought too, until just a moment ago.

"But the Grand Duke isn't an ordinary priest—he's a knight. Are you telling me he failed to notice reporters trailing him and snapping his picture so brazenly?"

He wasn't just any knight, either—he had been the Commander of the Holy Knights.

Which meant his skills were exceptional.

I'd heard that among the magical beasts, there were even individuals that specialized in concealing their presence.

A man who had fought such creatures was supposed to have failed to notice reporters hauling around enormous cameras?

So, that could only mean one thing.

"He let himself be photographed. On purpose."

"Pardon?"

"He deliberately let the reporters take his picture. By openly exposing himself like this."

Nothing else explained it.

Come to think of it—right!

At that instant, a memory flashed through my mind.

"Well, that would be difficult."

The day Leon Obsidian had come to visit me.

When he produced the harbor rights certificate and the engagement papers, I had asked what he would do if I decided to void the engagement. And this was how he'd answered.

"As it happens, I came today specifically to prevent that."

At the time, I had no idea what he meant by that...

So that's what he meant.

I bit my lip and glared at the offending article, on the verge of tears.

At this rate, retreating to my territory would do no good whatsoever.

My name had already been sold, and now my face was too. What else was there to do?

There was nowhere left to hide in this empire.

"Goodness. Still, this is a bit much. It's practically him announcing to the entire empire, 'This woman is mine!'... Oh my goodness!"

Laura, who had been muttering with a small click of her tongue, suddenly spotted something and went pale.

"What? What is it?"

"No, it's just, this is... aigoo..."

As she floundered, Laura hurriedly hid the gossip rag she'd been holding behind her back.

Not a chance.

I beckoned for her to hand it over, and after hesitating briefly, she reluctantly surrendered the pamphlet.

What was written inside was...

"Oh, for heaven's sake."

It was an article that summoned curses all on its own.

These people, I swear...!

How long are they going to keep dragging that up?

The Crevan Incident.

It had happened right after I inherited the marquisate in place of my late father.

It was only natural that the surrounding nobles would underestimate me—young, and a woman besides.

Especially since House Zacherete was wealthy. Virtually no noble involved in trade had never borrowed money from us.

In other words, fellow nobles, but bound to us by very real debts.

Then, overnight, that creditor became a girl barely older than their own daughters.

Baron Creban had been one of them.

At the time, he had pulled a scheme to avoid repaying what he owed House Zacherete—forging a false certificate of debt clearance and shoving it in my face.

A commendable attempt. A wretched outcome.

He must have assumed a mere marchioness's daughter wouldn't know how to read a ledger.

But I had been the top student at the academy, first in every subject without exception.

Besides, as part of my education as heir to the house, I had studied the merchant company's ledgers, accounting records, past transactions, and every scrap of commercial knowledge from a young age.

In one sweep, I pored over years' worth of ledgers and records, proved his claim to be a forgery, and formally hauled the Baron's house into court on charges of fraud, breach of trust, and unlawful dealing between nobles.

In the end, I extracted compensation of three times the principal—and drove the Baron's house into bankruptcy.

Afterward, the nobility split into two camps.

Those who sneered that a young chit had no business running a business, and resented me for the money they owed.

And those who believed credit should be given where due, and accepted me as an equal business partner.

Unfortunately, the former still outnumbered the latter.

At the same time, thanks to that affair, I apparently had a reputation in high society as the 'Fearsome Lady.'

"Are you really going to sit back and let this stand?"

"What choice do I have? It's not as if there's anything I can do. Reacting now would only backfire."

Things were already in an uproar. If I opened my mouth on top of that?

One single remark would sprout into dozens of twisted variations, guaranteed.

"So for now, let's just observe. If we hold to strict silence and wait until the rumors die down somewhat—"

"My lady!"

"Ah! You startled me."

Right in the middle of our conversation, the office door swung open and Valen, the head butler of the marquisate, strode in.

"We have a crisis."

"Again?"

Why on earth were crises becoming so frequent these days?

Resigned to the pattern I'd grown accustomed to in no time at all, I nodded.

"Reporters have gathered outside the mansion. As a precaution against any untoward incidents, I would advise you to remain within the grounds for the time being."

"What?"

I sprang to my feet and rushed out onto the balcony.

Just as Valen had said, an enormous crowd was packed in front of the main gate in the distance.

At my appearance, the crowd, already at a fever pitch, flushed with excitement and began shouting at the tops of their lungs.

"My lady! Have you seen the article?! Any comment at all—short is fine, we simply must have a word!"

"Is it true that you and His Highness the Grand Duke are lovers? Please, an interview—just a moment of your time!"

"Absolutely not! It's all lies! Lord Leon would never do such a thing! It's all fabrication!"

"That's right! Lord Leon has far better taste than that! Marchioness Zacherete, come out this instant and reveal the truth!"

Hold on. Something strange seems to have slipped into the middle there?

Between the relentless bursts of flashbulbs, I could make out a horde of furious ladies in dresses of every color.

United as one heart and one purpose, all of them chanting 'Down with Marchioness Zacherete'...

Frankly, it was terrifying.

Even more so than the reporters.

"How would you like this handled? Have you perhaps thought of a countermeasure?"

"No. Nothing. For now, we hold out no matter what. They do say time is a great healer, don't they?"

As I'd said before, any clumsy attempt at clarification from me would only be twisted and spread even further.

"Besides, as long as I don't engage with anyone, there's no one who can press me for answers. Right?"

"Indeed. Which brings us to the second problem."

"There's a second?"

Valen, as if he'd been waiting for this, held out a single letter. When I just stared at it, wondering what it could be, he answered flatly.

"An invitation from His Majesty the Emperor."

"...What?"

Who... sent me what?

Unable to make sense of it, I stared blankly at the thing before accepting it with trembling hands.

An emblem stamped in gleaming gold upon a cream-colored envelope.

The unmistakable imperial seal.

Steadying myself, I broke the seal and opened the envelope to reveal a brief message.

Truly the bare minimum—nothing but the stated purpose, not a shred of courtesy in it.

We're really and truly doomed.

Who could have imagined that His Majesty the Emperor, of all people, was this gossip's most devoted fan?