Chapter 08
Chloe had set a record—three whole months as Curtis’s aide, while all the others before her had come and gone quickly.
She saluted politely, placed the documents on his desk, and quietly left the room.
From the moment Chloe walked in to the moment she left, neither Curtis nor Noel said a word. Only after the door closed did they finally look at each other. Curtis spoke first.
“…She used to be in the navy, right?”
“Curtis.”
Noel shook his head in warning.
But Curtis had already pulled out her personnel file from his desk.
Chloe Ambroise. From a first-class knighted family. Former navy. And—conveniently—a special inherited noble title.
“Looks like her family’s poor,” Curtis muttered.
Noel quickly stopped him.
“Curtis, no. Don’t even think about it.”
Curtis frowned but looked up from the file.
“I’m not saying I’m going to ask her right now. If I’m not careful, I might end up actually having to marry her. The gap in our status is too wide.”
Noel didn’t say anything.
“I was trying to avoid marrying into Glintrande, but this might end in an even messier disaster. Ideally, I’d find a proper marriage candidate within two weeks and send a proposal myself.”
“If that’s how you feel, good. That’s a relief…”
Noel sighed.
So, they agreed to look as hard as possible for a smart, suitable lady who could act as Curtis’s shield within two weeks.
But it was impossible.
Marriage proposals were handled by families and elders, not the individuals.
Even if Curtis was famous and desirable, elders saw him as someone hated by the king and with a difficult personality. It wasn’t easy to find someone who’d fit.
No matter how efficient they were, they couldn’t convince elders and secure an engagement in just two weeks.
So in the end, Curtis looked at Chloe’s file again.
And that’s how she was chosen as his escort for tonight’s royal banquet.
****
After explaining the situation, Curtis looked tired. He added:
“…I had you in mind, but I didn’t think it would actually come to this.”
Still, none of that really explained why Chloe had to deal with this mess tonight.
“I was going to explain things slowly, after showing you the situation. Then ask for your cooperation.”
Cooperation. Chloe rolled the red brooch in her hand. It was smooth and cool.
“You mean… you want me to pretend to be your fiancée?”
“…More like pretend to be my girlfriend—for now.”
Curtis rubbed his face tiredly. Chloe didn’t look thrilled.
Well, she got it.
Curtis probably never expected the king to personally approach the Duke of Glintrande about a marriage.
If Curtis had just said he was “seeing someone casually,” the king could’ve easily dismissed that and ordered a marriage anyway.
“Well… too late now.”
Chloe awkwardly scratched between her eyebrows.
Curtis lowered his hand and looked at her, surprised.
“…Do you even know what you’re agreeing to?”
“I do.”
“Let’s be sure we’re on the same page. Explain it.”
“The Duke of Verck has fallen in love with a smart and beautiful ex-navy officer named Chloe Ambroise and plans to marry her.”
Normally, if Chloe had made a joke like that, Curtis would’ve frowned and scolded her: “Do you think this is funny?”
But this was clearly an emergency.
“…There’s a lot I could say about that. But fine, close enough.”
Yup. Definitely a crisis, Chloe thought, watching him.
Then Curtis asked:
“And?”
“And after feeling the pressure from the king, I suddenly realized I loved you and decided to accept your proposal… darling.”
Curtis blinked, stunned by Chloe’s sweet and dramatic tone.
Then he quickly cleared his throat and muttered,
“Thanks.”
Chloe gave him a sunny smile.
“For what?”
Curtis looked confused.
“…Didn’t you just say you’d help me?”
Chloe only smiled in response. Curtis stared at her, then cautiously asked,
“Do you want something in return? Anything you want…”
But Chloe cut him off.
“You know something, sir?”
She flipped the red brooch in her hand. It was smooth and round, pleasant to the touch.
When she was assigned to Curtis three months ago, Chloe’s life had been full of overtime and suffering. She’d cursed the gods.
If there really was a god, He clearly wasn’t on her side—or so she thought.
But now, she was sure. God was definitely on her side.
Because nothing else could explain such a perfect opportunity for revenge.
A chance to get back at the boss she’d always wanted to punch.
“Love can’t be bought with money.”
“…What are you talking about?”
“I believe love is built through sincere actions.”
Curtis clearly didn’t believe her, but Chloe meant every word.
She looked at the brooch a little longer, then locked eyes with him—and smiled brightly.
“First of all…”
“…?”
“Get on one knee, Duke.”
Curtis’s handsome forehead wrinkled in frustration.
That felt amazing.
****
Now’s a good time to go back to Chloe’s first day as Curtis’s aide.
She hadn’t wanted to punch him from the beginning, of course.
“Chloe Ambroise, reporting for duty. I’ve been assigned to Brigadier General Verck’s office as his aide. Rank: Warrant Officer.”
It was a beautiful spring day. Chloe had been in a great mood.
The Royal Guard building was stunning. The contract came with nice incentives and high pay.
She should’ve known something was off when the royal guards looked at her with such pity while she signed the papers.
“Warrant Officer Ambroise, is it?”
“Yes, sir! I look forward to serving you!”
She still remembered what Curtis said to her after her salute that first day:
“Have you considered cutting your hair?”
“…Sorry?”
She thought she’d misheard.
She touched her hair without thinking. It was neatly tied in a ponytail—very tidy and regulation-appropriate.
“I don’t think I was unclear.”
He spoke flatly, with no emotion. Chloe was flustered but tried to stay professional.
“I didn’t see any such rule in the Guard’s dress code, but if I’m mistaken, I’ll correct it.”
“You’re not mistaken. It’s not a rule.”
“Then why…”
Curtis sat behind his large desk, arms crossed.
“You don’t look like you’re planning to cut it. Just keep showing up with it like that.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Warrant Officer Chloe Ambroise.”
He cut her off before she could question him further.
“If you ask me one more question, you’ll get your pay docked.”
One more question = salary cut.
Her instincts screamed that one wrong move could ruin her career.
Chloe had been in the military long enough to recognize that feeling—and knew better than to argue.
Curtis nodded at her silence and pointed to a small room next to his office.
“Go do your work there.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
Still confused, Chloe entered the room.
What she found was a mountain of paperwork… and, oddly enough, a small bed. The room was spotless.
Looking back, it was ridiculous. A bed? In an aide’s office?
At the time, Chloe had been too overwhelmed to question it. She was too busy wondering why her hair was such a big deal.
She found out soon enough.
“Our duke is really sensitive about cleanliness…”
That was what Lieutenant Noel told her.
“Sensitive” was putting it nicely. The truth was: Curtis had OCD.
He hated other people’s traces in his space—especially smells and hair.
“If you’d come in with your hair down, he probably wouldn’t have even acknowledged you.”
Everything made sense then.
No wonder the last 19 aides all quit on their own.
Even someone like Chloe, who really needed the paycheck, almost walked away.
Being the war hero Curtis’s aide looked good on paper—but more than half of those aides were kicked out for being ‘dirty’.
One for sweating too much.
Another for not showering during a late-night shift.
But Chloe’s resentment toward Curtis wasn’t just because of his OCD.
There were many reasons.
For example:
“Warrant Officer? Where are you going? You’re not trying to leave early, are you?”
“…Of course not, sir! Just, um, going to get more ink from supply…”
“Then what’s with that expression?”
“My apologies, sir! I just naturally have a sad-looking face!”
