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Chapter 09
“Excuse me?!”
“You used to act as if you’d do anything if I just made you Empress, didn’t you? Isn’t that why you abandoned Kalix and chose me? Because you wanted that position!”
The Empress’s face flushed red and pale in turns. Thinking he had won the argument, the Emperor looked smug.
“At least find out what that bastard is thinking. Or at the very least, interfere so that woman can’t properly make her debut. If she fails, it’ll be a pretty big headache for both you and me.”
After delivering his threat, he strode out. Fabbiana stared at his retreating back with disbelief. She bit her crimson lips as if crushing them, frowning, then, unable to contain her rage, tore the newspaper to shreds.
Not satisfied with that, she overturned the wooden table entirely—the cigarettes and refreshments atop it crashed noisily to the floor.
In the chaos, the maids hurriedly fled the room, pretending not to see. There had been more than a few maids who’d been beaten for trying to clean up in such situations.
“……Insufferable wretch……”
Yes. If she had known it would come to this—if she had known she’d end up in this situation—she would never have abandoned Kalix and chosen him in the first place. Fabbiana was forever regretting that decision.
Breathing heavily as she suppressed her fury, Fabbiana ground her teeth and summoned her aide.
“Yes, Your Majesty the Empress.”
“Go and investigate that commoner wench—Odellia, or Odette, or whatever her name is. Bring me facts that aren’t known from these scraps of paper, things that no one else knows.”
*Kalix’s chosen woman. Who on earth is she?*
—
***
The effect of the newspaper was tremendous.
Nobles began sending Odellia invitations to their banquets. And not just invitations—so many men lined up to request dates that the postman could barely push through them to deliver the flood of invitations, day after day.
But not a single person had actually met Odellia. The men who lined up returned empty-handed, and no one at the banquets reported having seen her.
That was only natural. Odellia was currently undergoing extremely rigorous training.
Under the tutelage of none other than the Duchess, who had been appointed as her etiquette instructor.
“Good heavens, how can that be? The Duchess herself is teaching her?”
“Something’s off. Otherwise, why would she bother with such a commoner……? Surely there’s some secret?”
“A secret, you say?”
“For instance, a hidden birth secret.”
“That might be. Like she’s a fugitive, or perhaps the daughter of a fallen house……”
Once that thought took hold, the nobles’ expressions changed in an instant. If, perhaps, there really was such a secret—
“This social season is shaping up to be especially interesting.”
Everyone who passed by and glanced at Odellia’s townhouse murmured the same thing. What was the secret that Odellia—the butcher’s daughter, the people’s hero—was hiding?
—
***
“Ow!”
Cedric’s scream echoed over the townhouse wall.
The people loitering nearby, hoping to catch a glimpse of something worth reporting, all jumped in surprise and quickly scattered.
Perhaps Odellia’s secret would prove easier to uncover than they’d thought.
“So she was hiding the fact that she’s completely uncoordinated.”
Kalix, who had been observing from a distance, sighed as he watched Odellia plop onto the ground. On the battlefield, even from afar, her movements had been extraordinary—he never imagined she could dance this poorly.
Beside him, the Duchess, seated with her cane and sipping coffee, also sighed and shook her head. Odellia, still sprawled on the floor, looked up at Kalix and grumbled:
“……I wasn’t hiding it—!”
But Odellia’s protest fell on deaf ears. As if they had all conspired to tease her, even Cedric cut her off and added:
“At this rate, any man who dances with Odellia won’t have any feet left. I thought you weren’t stepping—I thought you were stomping the enemy.”
Cedric, saying this, began to limp. It wasn’t entirely an act—she really had stepped on him quite a lot. And in those pointed shoes, it was a wonder his feet hadn’t been punctured.
“Cedric, does your foot hurt a lot? I’m sorry.”
Odellia helped the limping Cedric to the sofa, her expression sheepish. Kalix gestured to the musicians to stop playing, and they withdrew, rubbing their stiff shoulders after the lengthy performance.
“Let’s stop here for today. Cedric, you’ve worked hard as well.”
“Huh? Hehehe, not at all, Your Highness.”
“You may go now.”
“Huh?!”
“The Duchess may also retire for the day.”
“Well, well—being driven out with pretty words, I see. Very well, Your Highness. Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Lady Odellia.”
Cedric was half-forced out, and the Duchess, soothing him, soon closed the door behind them. Odellia cautiously glanced at Kalix. Was he disappointed that she turned out to be so uncoordinated? Or was he angry that his plans had gone awry?
“On horseback, swinging a sword, you’re so fluid—but the moment music starts, your entire body stiffens up.”
“I’m sorry for disappointing you. If I practice more……”
“Stop that tone.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m saying you don’t need to speak in such a stiff manner.”
So saying, Kalix pressed down on Odellia’s shoulders and guided her to sit on the sofa. Staring up at him with wide, bewildered eyes, Odellia gave a start.
Kalix crouched down and lifted her ankle.
“Your Highness!”
Not stopping there, he removed her painfully tight shoes and placed his hand on her bare foot.
“Wh-what are you—!”
Odellia’s feet were already covered in blisters and bruises, mottled with red and blue marks.
“I bought the largest size I could find, but it seems they’re still too small. If it hurts, say it hurts. Enduring it so stubbornly won’t improve your nonexistent dancing skills.”
“……I’m sorry.”
“And I’m saying you don’t need to apologize for everything. It’s my fault for making you practice in those shoes to begin with.”
Kalix then lifted her other foot and slowly removed the shoe as well. After hours of dancing in shoes so tight they’d been digging into her flesh, even removing them was no easy task.
Kalix clicked his tongue once more, as if to say *foolish*, and gave Odellia a sideways glance. Having nothing to say, she quietly closed her mouth and pretended to look elsewhere.
“I was afraid that if I said my feet hurt on top of being uncoordinated, it would sound like an excuse.”
“Now that you’re saying it, is it *not* an excuse?”
“……My own version of a protest?”
“Some protest that is.”
With a scoff, Kalix ordered a servant to bring bandages and ointment. Soon, a servant arrived with the medical supplies, bowed, and left the room.
“I’ll do it myself.”
“Never mind. There’s nothing more unsightly than a lady fussing with her own dress hem while treating her own feet.”
“A-ah, no, no matter how you put it, I couldn’t possibly have Your Highness treat me……”
“Are you implying I’m some kind of quack?”
“That’s not it……”
“You are quite helpless, unlike on the battlefield. Back then, how did you let me treat you? Don’t you remember? When I removed the arrow embedded in your shoulder.”
At that, Odellia stared at him blankly, caught off guard, and asked back:
“……You remember that?”
“Do you take me for a half-wit?”
“Th-that’s not it……”
That had been quite some time ago. Even before Odellia had received her hero’s title—nearly three years ago.
“Back then, it was chaotic, a matter of life and death…… and to be honest, I didn’t even know it was Your Highness.”
That was right. Back then, she had thought the boy treating her was just a medic—she never imagined he was the Crown Prince of the empire.
As if agreeing with her thoughts, Kalix let out a soft laugh. Whether it was that laugh that oddly stirred her, or if her mind had momentarily gone blank, Odellia found herself adding without thinking:
“I was shocked when I found out that boy was Your Highness…… *gulp.*”
Fortunately, she came to her senses midway—she nearly blurted out the rest.
“Why?”
“……Just pretend you didn’t hear that.”
“Because I looked so weak back then, hardly befitting the title of Crown Prince?”
“Th-that’s not it……”
“Well, everyone says that. There’s no reason you can’t say it too. Back then, you had no idea I was the Crown Prince and treated me rather rudely, didn’t you?”
“……You remember that……”
“Of course I do. Didn’t you call me ‘a shriveled grain that never saw sunlight’?”
