The Grand Duchess's Sixth First Night — Chapter 14
"This is how I would naturally handle it."
"……"
"'It was an engagement arranged personally by His Majesty the Emperor, and the ceremony was held here in the Imperial Palace—yet you seem to find it lacking, which worries me.'"
Laila spoke as though a noblewoman were standing right in front of her.
"'If you would tell me what displeases you, I shall relay it to His Majesty directly.' Like so."
Laila turned a smooth smile on Ervan. It was a smile drawn with perfect elegance. Ervan, who had been quietly watching her, finally opened his mouth.
"So I'm to fetch someone of higher rank and use them as my pawn. I've learned something."
"……"
What he had understood wasn't entirely wrong, but Laila found herself at a loss for how to correct him, and faltered for a moment.
"If something like this happens again, and the other party is a noblewoman, I'll settle it myself. That's my line."
Laila drew the line for him.
"In that case……"
"Men will have their own ways of dealing with men, I imagine—ways I don't know. That part is beyond me, so I won't concern myself with it."
"Then, would it be acceptable for me to assist the Grand Duchess?"
Serious, pleading eyes were fixed on Laila. Thinking that those eyes, shining far too brightly for his massive frame, were rather endearing, Laila nodded.
"Very well."
And not long after, Laila would come to understand just what Ervan's help had meant.
Puuuu—
The horn announcing the Emperor's entrance blared long and low. Laila straightened her posture and smoothed out her rumpled skirt.
"Grand Duchess."
It was the moment Ervan extended his hand to escort her.
"One moment, Viscount."
Instead of taking his hand, Laila stepped boldly forward—straight into his chest.
At the sudden narrowing of the distance, Ervan's whole body went rigid. Stiff as a statue, he rolled only his eyes to watch what she was doing.
"Hold still."
Laila whispered softly, tilting her chin up. Her pale white fingers slipped inside the stiff collar of his uniform, near the nape of his neck.
Because he had bent down earlier to pick up the Marchioness's fan, the cravat wrapped around his throat had gone askew.
If the nobles, desperate for any flaw to pin on his commoner birth, caught sight of that, he would become prime prey on the spot.
"……"
Ervan sucked in a sharp breath. The fragrance rising from Laila was enough to make his head swim.
Each time the hands adjusting his cravat brushed past his nape, the skin there flushed a little deeper red.
The rustle of fabric sounded impossibly loud in Ervan's ears.
His vision was filled entirely with Laila.
Long, lush lashes. Slightly parted red lips. And when his gaze slid down the slender white nape of her neck to the shapely swell of her chest beneath it, Ervan coughed involuntarily.
"The knot's crooked. Hold still."
The second horn blast sounded. Just as Laila, growing anxious, stepped even closer to him—
She felt something firm press against the fullness of her skirt, and her chin dipped slightly.
Where her eyes landed, his clothes were pulled taut with barely restrained fury, and the enormous thing hidden beneath them was making its presence unmistakably known.
Before the crimson-faced Laila could even pull away, Ervan wrapped his arms around her waist and yanked her against him.
Thirst flared. In that instant, Ervan understood: this maddening thirst would torment him for a very long time, left unquenched.
"……Are you finished?"
Ervan's voice came out rougher than usual, scraped raw. Trapped in his arms, Laila squirmed and put up a feeble resistance.
"W-we have to return to the banquet hall before His Majesty arrives."
Laila's red lips trembled. The sound of her racing heart rang clearly even in Ervan's ears—though it might well have been his own.
Ervan lowered his head. The sharp bridge of his nose grazed her cheek, and they stopped at that precarious distance where their lips were about to touch.
"I-I'm done."
Laila yanked the final knot of the cravat tight, then pushed weakly at his chest and caught her breath.
Ervan clicked his tongue in disappointment. Then, slowly bending at the waist, he offered her his hand once more.
"Shall we go, my…… fiancée."
Laila placed her hand atop his outstretched palm.
The terrace doors opened, and though she could feel a heavy gaze fixed on her the entire way, she could not bring herself to glance sideways even once.
"I offer my sincere congratulations on your engagement."
The Emperor, having arrived at the banquet hall, wore a benevolent smile.
His deep gaze, which had been fixed on Ervan, soon shifted to Laila.
At that look of detached, almost scientific curiosity, Ervan clenched his fist.
"We are grateful for Your Majesty's grace."
Ervan bowed deeply, drawing attention to himself.
He did not like the Emperor's gaze settling on Laila one bit.
"The noble blood of Esdelheim and the hero of the Empire, joined together—what could be more joyous an occasion?"
Laila gave a faint smile and lowered her eyes.
"Viscount, my expectations for you in particular are high. See to the Grand Duchess well."
Ervan, with his sharp instincts, caught the weight behind the words see to her.
It was the Emperor's covert pressure—watch the Grand Duchess, and dig out the power hidden within her.
"By Your Majesty's will, I shall guard the Grand Duchess more preciously than my own life."
At Ervan's answer, the young noblewomen and some of the noblewives watching nearby let out small sighs. It was the sort of thing a fiancé blinded by love would say.
The Emperor took the words as Ervan's loyalty and smiled with satisfaction.
"Grand Duchess, you must have been quite startled by the Viscount's sudden proposal."
Laila inclined her head gracefully and answered with perfect composure.
"I can only marvel at Your Majesty's discernment, in pairing someone as unworthy as myself with the hero of the Empire."
Everyone was reciting their lines, each playing their assigned role like the lead in a play.
And yet the audience was utterly absorbed in this single performance.
At a gesture from the attendant beside the Emperor, the court conductor raised his baton.
The languid strains of a minuet wrapped softly around the banquet hall. The ball had truly begun.
"Grand Duchess, would you grant me the honor of the first dance?"
Ervan bent his knee and asked Laila for the dance.
It was a hand he had taken any number of times today alone, and yet once again Laila felt her heart tremble.
Led by Ervan's hand, Laila moved to the center of the hall. Music meant for the two of them alone flowed around them.
Ervan naturally laced his fingers between hers. Laila, who had been offering her waist so he could hold her easily, faltered for just a moment.
Because the memory of Ervan's furious lower half from moments ago came rushing back.
Ervan, feigning ignorance, wrapped his arms gently around her waist and whispered into her now-close ear.
"Everything is settled now."
It was obvious what he meant. At his shamelessly smooth answer, Laila's face flushed red once more.
Their feet began to move in perfect unison, as if they had become one. Watching Ervan glide smoothly to the rhythm, Laila was a little surprised.
"Viscount, you can dance."
"I have a talent for anything involving my body."
Ervan said it with a swagger, then leaned in and whispered at her ear again.
"The truth is, I'm only imitating what I've seen. It'll fall apart by the second half."
Ervan wasn't lying. As the piece passed its midpoint, his movements began to grow steadily more awkward.
Laila pressed herself a little closer to him and whispered the next step into his ear.
"Left foot, Viscount."
"I know."
"No, your right foot just went first."
Laila caught the flicker of Ervan's startlement. But he, as if he had no time to spare for her, even bowed his head, concentrating on his own feet.
A laugh burst from Laila's lips.
At the sound of her laughter, Ervan lifted his head. Then, with a smile far brighter than she had ever worn, he said:
"I like seeing you smile, Grand Duchess."
Only then did Laila realize that she had laughed out loud.
She also noticed that he kept looking adorable to her.
"……"
The piece was drawing to a close.
Laila gathered her loosened heart and pulled it tight again.
This engagement had been forced through by the Emperor's command, and she was still searching for a way to dissolve this political marriage.
There was no meaning in giving him any more of her heart.
'……But is dissolving the political marriage really the answer?'