“The Head of House is really… quite eccentric.”
I was out shopping, using the upcoming social party hosted by Lady Iola—set to take place in four days—as an excuse to pick out a new dress.
Thanks to that, Hebrune was handling my duties at the estate in my stead.
Maybe if I brought back some of his favorite brand of black tea, he’d cut his nagging in half.
With that vague thought, I turned my attention back to the clothes in front of me—only to hear Laura’s tired voice beside me.
“Why the long face again?”
“It’s already been three hours of shopping. Aren’t you tired yet? If you worked this passionately at your actual duties, the steward might cry a little less…”
Laughing at her grumbling, I briskly shoved aside a dress that wasn’t to my taste.
“Who gets tired of shopping? There’s so much beauty in the world to see.”
I wasn’t as extravagant as the former Emperor, but I did have a flair for luxury.
Of course, all of this was made possible by the never-diminishing wealth of House Metheisa.
That seemingly endless fortune, along with the success of the businesses born from my sharp intellect, had made me what I was.
More accurately, it was thanks to my knowledge from a past life and my understanding of the general plot of the novel I now lived in.
“And don’t forget, I feel bad for you, so I always make sure to get you something too.”
At my words, Laura guiltily tried to hide her shopping bags behind her back.
It was adorable, and I burst out laughing again.
“I mean, thank you, but…!”
“Madam Netwa, could I trouble you for some light refreshments? My maid looks like she’s running on empty.”
“If you’re thinking sugar will fix this—well, I accept! Thank you very much!”
Laura was nothing if not honest. Honestly, I was rather soft on the staff of House Metheisa.
And rightly so. Everyone who remained now had been with me through the entire journey of securing my position as Marchioness.
Madam Netwa, seemingly used to our dynamic, quickly had a tea set and cake brought out.
The moment the cake hit the table, Laura’s complaints stopped.
I figured we could safely shop for at least another hour.
“Trying to find something off-the-rack is tough.”
Perhaps hearing my muttered complaint, Madam Netwa offered a suggestion of her own.
“How about this one? Since the party will be held indoors, even a light dress should work just fine.”
“Not crazy about the color. Also, rule out anything purple. Lady Iola has a fondness for violet tones.”
“In that case, what about something in navy? It’s in the same family but distinctly different.”
Madam Netwa held up a dress dyed in a rich shade of ultramarine.
This part of the shopping was a secret from Laura. Up until now, I’d only been casually browsing. The real goal started here.
“It’s nice… but isn’t it a bit much?”
The hem was dusted heavily with silver glitter. It would be perfect for an evening party—but Iola’s event was in broad daylight.
Madam Netwa seemed to think hard at my hesitation, then clapped her hands and disappeared inside. She returned with a new dress in hand.
“A pale blue gown. It pairs beautifully with darker blue accessories. And it’s in the style you prefer, Marchioness.”
It was a mermaid-cut dress with a modest neckline, revealing just the collarbones.
There were several popular salons in the capital, but I only frequented Madam Netwa’s.
She knew exactly what I liked.
When I’d complained that lace was fussy, she stripped it all away.
When I said corsets were uncomfortable, she did away with those too.
I’d griped that trailing sleeves were annoying—so she either trimmed them off or replaced them with sleek, fitted ones.
And in accordance with my firm belief that there should be some level of exposure, she always made sure to highlight my collarbones or cut the dress to reveal a sensual line of the leg.
So naturally, I kept coming back.
“I’ll take it.”
The first time I wore a Netwa-original to a party, the whispers came flooding in behind my “villainess” title.
Tacky, inappropriate—”of course she has no taste; she’s an orphan.”
(Of course, I made sure those who dared speak within earshot paid dearly.)
Ironically, in time, my fashion became a trend.
Though no one could pull it off quite like I could, everyone wanted a Netwa gown.
Laura, having polished off her cake in record time, was now sipping her tea when she asked,
“Still, why go all out for a social gathering that’s just Lady Iola’s hobby?”
“Honestly, Laura, sometimes you remind me of Sir Anton.”
“…I don’t know what that means, but I can tell it’s an insult. Please don’t compare me to that man.”
Laura actually looked serious. She’d seen me tease Anton often enough to catch on quickly.
“Anyway, you always suit up fully before heading into battle.”
“Whose heart are you trying to break this time?”
“Huh? That’s exactly what Hebrune said.”
“Well, sounds like the steward will be the first to cry.”
Laura shook her head knowingly. I poked her gently, just in case.
“Are you going to tattle to Theo too?”
“…”
Unbelievable. They say trust no one—how true.
When I looked at Laura in disbelief, she nonchalantly stood up and made a show of pointing toward a display.
“Oh my! Marchioness, look at that necklace! It would go so well with your dress!”
“Laura, I’m getting some dark ideas right now…”
“You should probably keep those ideas in your head, my lady.”
“I’m seriously considering returning that dress I just bought for you.”
“You gave it to me! You can’t take it back—that’s petty!”
As she jumped around in protest, I just crossed my arms and shrugged.
Whether Hebrune talked or Laura talked—Theo was my little brother. In the end, he’d always take my side.
It may be childish, but I couldn’t help it.
Blood is thicker than water.
ִֶָ___________𓂃 ࣪˖ ִִֶֶָﾒ ་༘࿐__________
“You’ve returned, my lord?”
Garnet, the loyal steward of House Riverton, greeted the Archduke upon his return from a minor monster subjugation.
Archduke Lucas looked down at Garnet with a face that suggested he had a lot on his mind.
Garnet, adept at reading his master’s expressions, spoke without missing a beat.
“While you were away, a messenger from the imperial palace arrived. They’ve sent reinforcements in preparation for the winter subjugation.”
The training grounds were now filled with well-armored knights standing at attention to welcome the Archduke home.
Opportunities to see the strongest swordsman of the Empire in person were rare.
To knights, Archduke Riverton was a living legend.
“The new emperor?”
Lucas spoke languidly, barely moving his lips.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
At that, Lucas let out a cynical laugh.
Since when had the capital shown so much interest in the North?
Rather than analyze the imperial court’s intentions, Lucas decided it wasn’t worth the effort and called for Nox.
“Nox.”
A man stepped forward from behind Lucas.
“Handle it.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Nox, though not fond of the palace’s sudden friendliness, was still glad for the added reinforcements.
He accepted his master’s command without complaint.
“There are injured. Call for a medic.”
As they crossed the threshold into the estate, Garnet hesitated slightly before speaking again.
“There’s more to report on that matter.”
“…”
“They didn’t just send knights. The palace also dispatched several capable physicians. Those with families arrived with their loved ones. I’ve arranged accommodations for them within the estate.”
Even as he explained, Garnet kept a wary eye on Lucas.
Lucas said nothing, but Garnet, who had served him faithfully for years, knew better.
Lucas’s silence was more terrifying than any outburst.
“…Let them treat the wounded.”
Lucas gave the order through gritted teeth.
Even as he spoke, his expression remained twisted with unease.
What was the imperial court playing at? Why show such sudden kindness to the North?
“The House of Metheisa… I never imagined they’d reach for the throne.”
“The empire’s citizens, tired of the previous regime’s corruption, seem to have welcomed the new ruler without resistance.”
Garnet helped Lucas out of his coat as he continued.
“A Metheisa heir ascended without backlash from the capital nobility?”
“They say he’s a genius. Even the Magic Tower had their eyes on him.”
To Lucas, it didn’t matter who sat on the throne. The North was practically autonomous. As long as the emperor didn’t interfere, he had no reason to act.
That was why he had chosen to remain neutral.
He had no intention of getting dragged into the petty squabbles of central nobles or making tiresome overtures to the new emperor.
But he hadn’t expected the first move to come from the emperor’s side.
Wiping the monster blood from his blade, Lucas cut his thoughts short.
At least this new ruler seemed more sensible than the last one.
“Trying to win the North’s favor, huh? I just hope this one’s not as stupid as the last emperor.”
“They say it was the Marchioness of Metheisa who quelled the opposition from the capital nobility.”
“Her? Personally?”
“Yes. She’s infamous in the capital, apparently. The other nobles can’t even speak up against her.”
Lucas silently poured himself a drink of vodka from the bottle always kept in his office.
“The former Marquis and Marchioness of Metheisa really did birth a monster. Killing the emperor and putting her little brother on the throne… Isn’t she terrifying?”
“Shall I investigate further?”
“No need.”
Lucas waved Garnet off.
Then, leaning back in his chair, he muttered with a lazy smirk:
“If she becomes a problem, we can just get rid of her later.”
That lazy predator’s grin—Lucas wouldn’t even remember saying those words in the future.
Which is perhaps for the best.
After all, future Lucas would be scandalized if he heard them again.
