Chapter 8
“You must help the Crown Prince come to his senses and grow into a good emperor. He’s stubborn—no one knows who he takes after—and refuses to listen to reason.
But since he’s your cousin, he’s bound to come running if it concerns you. For the sake of the Empire, help shape him a little.
Yes, perhaps you could play the part of the villain. If he’s forced to face hardship and overcome it, he’ll have no choice but to mature.
I trust that you, as Grand Duke, understand what I mean.”
The Crown Prince’s growth through defeating the wicked Grand Duke—
it sounded like something out of an old, cheap heroic epic.
He’d thought such a ridiculous idea would never work.
But reality, as they say, often surpasses fiction.
Even after serving him for half a lifetime, none of his aides had ever been able to guess what His Grace, the Grand Duke, was thinking—or plotting.
And yet, to everyone’s disbelief, he accepted the Emperor’s absurd command without protest.
As always, he didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow.
As always, he carried out his duties with terrifying perfection.
Ludwig Gruegar Calliente—the man once admired by the entire Empire—
soon became the man everyone feared after receiving that secret imperial order.
“Do you know what question I’ve been asked the most while preparing for this party?”
“I think I do. I’ve heard the same thing myself.”
“Where on earth did that absurd rumor come from—that His Grace the Grand Duke plans to drink the blood of the young ladies attending the party?!”
“Exactly! What kind of idiots believe such nonsense? And when I tell them that’s not true, they still give me that suspicious look! As if the answer’s already been decided and I’m just supposed to fill in the blank!”
While the two aides ranted in indignation, the eldest quietly took a step back.
A certain offhand comment from His Grace came to mind:
“Too many young ladies have accepted the invitation. I’ll have to cut the list down.”
And indeed, the number of attendees had dropped dramatically soon after.
Even some powerful border families and obscure mountain nobles suddenly withdrew.
Who would’ve guessed that this “rumor” had begun with the Grand Duke himself, in his attempt to reduce the guest list?
The aides still couldn’t fathom how such a brilliant mind could come up with something so outlandish.
“Well, in any case, the party is happening. By the end of it, we’ll probably be dead on our feet aga—hm?”
The youngest aide, who had been speaking in a defeated tone, blinked mid-sentence.
“What is it?”
One of the others, flipping through the guest list to check which young ladies’ accommodations hadn’t yet been confirmed, looked up.
The answer came from the eldest aide.
“It’s a party to select candidates for the position of Grand Duchess.”
“Right. Candidates for Grand Duchess, not the Grand Duchess herself… Wait—huh?”
A brief silence fell.
Then, all three men exchanged glances—expressions caught somewhere between excitement and dread.
“This damned party…”
“…might not happen after all?”
The shocking sight they’d witnessed earlier replayed vividly in their minds.
No matter how they turned it over, the image remained the same—
His Grace, the Grand Duke, in that woman’s company… in his bedchamber… in a rather affectionate situation.
“No, it shouldn’t happen.”
The eldest aide’s lips curled upward in a triumphant grin, giving the verdict they had all secretly wished for.
“All party-related documents—push them all to the back of the pile.”
Two mornings after Ashili had fallen straight into the Grand Duke Ludwig’s bedroom from the pages of a book.
“I ordered them to prepare all the things you said you enjoyed. I told them to be cautious with spicy dishes since it’s breakfast, but—Ashili?”
Ashili… yes, that was her name now.
She had officially been named yesterday. She looked at him quietly before speaking.
“Ludwig.”
He met her eyes as he slid a bowl of mildly flavored pumpkin soup in front of her.
“I forgot to ask you yesterday,” she said.
“You mean why I called you Ashili?”
Right on cue—he answered before she even finished her thought, pulling the reply from his pocket like a piece of candy.
“Yeah, that.”
“If you don’t like it—”
“That’s not it. Ashili is a lovely name.”
In her original world, it was a name used in foreign lands, not her own.
But this wasn’t her world anymore.
“I was just purely curious.”
“We never exchanged names, did we?”
At his matter-of-fact remark, Ashili tilted her head, then laughed softly.
“Now that you mention it, that’s true. We’ve known each other for quite a while, but I never knew your name. Why was that?”
“Because there was no need to.”
“Oh… right. That makes sense.”
It was a perfect answer—simple, precise.
In the dream where only the two of them existed, there had never been a reason to call each other by name.
They’d always been within arm’s reach—or at least close enough that a blink could bridge the distance.
Since their first meeting hadn’t begun with an exchange of names, the chance to do so had simply never come.
“You…” Ludwig paused. He didn’t particularly want to bring up the situation in which he had called her name yesterday.
“You?”
Ashili, spoon halfway to her lips, tilted her head again.
“The only name that came to mind when I thought of you was Ashili.”
“Huh? Why? Why Ashili?”
“Because Ashili is a dream.”
Her eyes widened.
Ludwig’s cool fingertips brushed against her jawline.
Her skin was so delicate that the spot where he’d held her yesterday still showed a faint mark.
“Dream…? Ashili means dream?”
“Yes.”
“That’s… well… yeah. A dream.”
The name fit her so perfectly that she couldn’t think of anything to say.
A woman who’d suddenly become real out of a dream—yet might turn back into one at any moment.
What could be a more fitting name?
Suppressing a sigh, she stirred the soup absentmindedly, then grimaced at her own behavior.
“Sorry, that was terribly rude at the table.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, it’s not a dream anymore.”
The words came out without thought. Ashili set down her spoon altogether.
“I don’t want to eat anymore.”
“You said you had a good appetite. You’ve hardly eaten.”
“Yeah. I used to eat anything and everything… but now I just don’t feel like it. God, I can’t believe I’m saying I don’t have an appetite!”
The breakfast spread before her was magnificent—no, beyond magnificent.
In her old world, she would have needed to spend a small fortune to enjoy such a meal, and these were all her favorites, too.
Yet nothing tasted good. Everything was bitter, like chewing on gall.
Ludwig glanced at her barely touched soup, then nodded once.
“If there’s anything you want to eat, I’ll have it prepared—whatever it may be.”
“Right now, I just really need some hot coffee.”
After last night’s heavy whiskey drinking, what she needed was a very strong, very hot cup of coffee.
She wasn’t hungover, but humans were creatures of habit.
Even in this absurd situation—where a dream had turned into reality—she craved the coffee she always drank after a night of drinking.
“Coffee, then. I’ll have Sebastian prepare it. Anything else?”
“No. But wait—there’s coffee here?”
“It’s rare and difficult to obtain, but quite a popular luxury. Someone in the estate surely drinks it. And if not, we’ll simply make some.”
He said it so casually—“we’ll make some if it doesn’t exist”—that she didn’t even stop to process the sheer power and influence behind those words.
“Well, at least the food’s similar. Guess people are people wherever you go.”
“There’s no such thing as ramen, which you said you liked.”
“Oh… right. Hm. Strangely, I don’t even miss it right now.”
He reached out a hand toward her. Without hesitation, she took it, and he gently pulled her onto his lap.
Resting her chin against his shoulder, her eyes grew half-lidded.
“Pretending like this all the time is exhausting.”
“There’s no need. No one will dare spread rumors about you.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘never’ in this world. Right now, everyone’s probably losing their minds over the shocking news—‘the woman who fell from the sky into Grand Duke Ludwig’s arms!’
So I need to make it absolutely clear before gossip starts flying. That way, even if rumors leak later, there won’t be any trouble.”
As soon as she finished speaking, there was a knock at the door.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
Sebastian appeared, bowing calmly.
Several servants followed him in, heads lowered, performing their tasks swiftly before disappearing.
“How would you like your tea prepared, my lord?”
“Coffee.”
Sebastian looked up slightly. Ashili, resting her head lazily against Ludwig’s chest, murmured,
“Very hot and strong.”
“As you wish. Also, the clothing is on its way now—I’ll bring it as soon as it arrives.”
Ashili didn’t reply.
Once the door closed and Sebastian’s presence vanished, she slumped against him.
“A cup of coffee will probably wake me up.”
“Are you in pain?”
“Just tired. Nothing else, really.”
His cool, dry hand pressed against her forehead.
She caught his hand, pulling it down to cover her eyes, and sighed—her breath warm against his skin.
This wasn’t the time to be lounging around like this… there was so much she needed to do.
Thankfully, she could speak their language, but she couldn’t read it—so she needed to study.
She’d have to learn their culture and history, even just the basics.
Even when your mind is shattered and your eyes swollen from tears, the world keeps turning.
There’s even a song about that, she thought bitterly—about someone who keeps eating well despite their heartbreak.
She tilted her head, dazed.
There were more things to do than she could count on both hands.
But the most immediate problem was clear.
Tomorrow was the party to find Ludwig’s wife—
the one to become the Grand Duchess.
