FTMR 13

Chapter 13

“If You Stare Like That, I’ll Get Embarrassed”

The maids tried to persuade Anette, saying that a proper lady should arrive slightly late rather than right on time.
But Anette believed that keeping basic courtesy mattered more than such supposed feminine virtues.

Of course, she was also keenly aware that she was in no position to earn even the slightest displeasure from the Grand Duke.

And so, Anette headed to the reception room where she was to meet the Grand Duke of Harzent—arriving a little earlier than the appointed time.

Perhaps because she was wearing white lace socks that reached up to her ankles and soft shoes that didn’t hurt her feet at all, her steps didn’t feel heavy even as she walked down the long corridor.

However, while carefully wiping the sweat from her nervous hands onto her clothes, Anette froze when she saw two people already seated in what she had assumed would be an empty reception room.

“You’ve arrived.”

“Oh my! My lady, you look lovely today!”

It was the Emperor and the Empress.

“Ah…”

Why had she assumed she would be meeting the Grand Duke alone?

Come to think of it, this was a political marriage meant to forge an alliance between nations—of course the imperial couple would be present.

Flustered, Anette quickly apologized.

“I didn’t realize you were already here. I’m sorry for being late.”

“Late? Not at all. If anything, Cardin… the Grand Duke of Harzent is the one who—he’s not usually like this.”

Lucius spoke awkwardly, recalling Cardin, whom he had fully expected to arrive early and be waiting. He didn’t want Anette to form a poor impression of him.

But Anette didn’t seem particularly bothered by the Grand Duke’s absence. Quietly, she moved to the seat Charlotte gestured toward and sat down.

The sofa faced the door, and Anette found herself seated between the Emperor and Empress. Somehow, sitting there like this made it feel as though the two of them were not the Grand Duke’s family—but hers. The feeling was strangely comforting.

And then—

“His Highness, the Grand Duke of Harzent, has arrived.”

With the attendant’s announcement, the door opened smoothly.

Anette took a deep breath.

Thud. Thud.
With each heavy sound of a man’s shoes against the floor, her heart began to pound wildly.

Amid the tension, she noticed a faint flutter of excitement and a small spark of expectation—and immediately forced herself to think rationally.

Get a grip. The Grand Duke is nothing more than a political marriage partner.

Just then, a man dressed in a formal black suit slowly came into view.

Anette rose instinctively from the sofa, and despite accounting for her reduced height, she still had to look far up at the tall man with broad shoulders and a straight back. She was a little startled by his imposing build.

So this is… the Grand Duke of Harzent.

As rumored, the Grand Duke wore a black mask over his face. Yet an air of refinement and elegance flowed from him.

His honey-colored blond hair gleamed brilliantly—so much so that it was impossible to imagine a hideous face hidden beneath the mask.

Rather than seeming like a living person, he looked almost like a flawless statue, made all the more unreal by the mask.

Then, suddenly, his Adam’s apple bobbed. He bowed his head deeply and clutched the mask with both hands. His lowered shoulders trembled slightly.

Only then did Anette realize that he had been holding his breath ever since entering the room.

It was as though he had just remembered to breathe, exhaling a slightly rough breath.

“….”

Without realizing it, Anette bit her lip.

She had heard that her condition had been explained to the Grand Duke’s household—but perhaps seeing it in person was far more shocking.

Lowering her gaze, Anette steeled herself.

She couldn’t allow the engagement to be broken like this.

She hadn’t expected to say such things in front of the Emperor and Empress, but just as she squeezed her eyes shut, ready to recite what she’d prepared to change the Grand Duke’s heart—

“…Is it a doll?”

Her eyes flew open at the deep, pleasant voice.

“It’s cuteness beyond what a human should have.”

“…….”

She thought she must have misheard.

But the voice undeniably belonged to the Grand Duke.

In other words—

The war maniac.
The merciless butcher.

Her fiancé—Cardin Harzent.

* * *

Has that idiot lost his mind?!

Lucius, witnessing his only younger brother’s ridiculous display in real time, nearly pressed a hand to his forehead.

He’d arrived early hoping to enjoy the spectacle, but while he had expected Cardin to put on a fake act of gentleness, he never imagined he’d act this shameless.

Judging by how impeccably dressed he was, it was obvious he’d been late because he’d spent so long getting ready. If he’d had that much energy to fuss over his appearance, he should have used some of it to keep his sanity intact. It was maddening.

“Ahem. Right on time, I see.”

Even so, as an older brother, Lucius had a duty to cover for his sibling’s failings.

Emphasizing to Anette that the Grand Duke hadn’t actually been late, he tried to shift the atmosphere and snap Cardin back to his senses.

And he sincerely hoped Cardin would remember this kindness later…

“Hm? You were here?”

Of course, the ungrateful bastard didn’t.

It sounded as though Cardin had only just realized the Emperor and Empress were present—apparently, no one but Anette had even entered his field of vision.

“Of course. Since this is the first meeting of those who will lead the alliance between the Alcan Empire and the Kingdom of Hayworth, I must be present.”

“Hm. I don’t know about all that, but I’d like to exchange greetings alone with the person I’ll be spending my life with. I’d appreciate it if Your Majesties would excuse us.”

“Ha!”

It was an audacity unbecoming of someone speaking to the Emperor himself.

Lucius twisted his face in disbelief.

“So…”

“……”

“You’re really telling us to leave?”

“Yes.”

At Cardin’s firm answer, without a shred of hesitation, Lucius clicked his tongue.

It felt like the most entertaining part was about to begin.

Charlotte felt the same way—but when she noticed Anette staring at Cardin as though entranced, she smiled subtly.

“It is their first meeting, after all. Perhaps our presence would only make things uncomfortable.”

She tugged her husband’s arm and led him out of the reception room, ignoring the regret and reluctance practically dripping from him.

There would be plenty of chances to enjoy the spectacle later.

Once the door closed and they were finally alone, Cardin turned sharply, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

He walked slowly toward Anette, knelt on one knee, and met her gaze.

Their eyes met before Anette could even remind herself of her resolve to hide her red eyes.

“I apologize. I behaved disgracefully earlier.”

His voice—so different from the insolent, almost annoyed tone he’d used with the Emperor—was sweet to the point of being ticklish. Anette stared at him blankly.

In truth, she’d already been like that since he’d referred to her as the person he’d spend his life with.

She’d drawn a firm line in her heart, telling herself this was nothing more than a political marriage—so why…?

“I… it’s all right.”

Still half-dazed, she managed to accept his apology.

Cardin covered his mouth with one hand and murmured softly.

“Even her voice is so young…”

Having clearly heard him, Anette blinked slowly. Her thoughts were in disarray.

Then, suddenly, Cardin laughed.

Perhaps because his mouth was covered—or because the mask muffled it—the low sound of his laughter was surprisingly pleasant. Anette stiffened.

“I truly am sorry.”

Cardin apologized again, finally suppressing his laughter.

“It feels too much like a dream.”

Anette found herself agreeing.

She had heard that the Emperor doted on the Grand Duke, despite their twelve-year age gap, but she’d assumed it was simply the affection of a ruler for a capable vassal.

Yet what she’d just seen felt like genuine familial closeness.

Still, more dreamlike than Lucius and Cardin’s familiarity was the way Cardin treated her, leaving Anette momentarily speechless.

Then she froze. A frightening thought suddenly crossed her mind.

They only said his appearance became grotesque due to monster blood… What if he’s also gone mad?

Yes—this had to be madness.

Forgetting entirely her resolve to hide her red eyes, Anette looked straight into the only part of Cardin’s face visible above the mask.

And she lost her breath.

His deep blue eyes—far from those of a madman—were gazing at her with unmistakable affection.

With that look, he spoke.

“Hmm. This is troublesome.”

“Ah! I’m sorry—”

“If you stare at me like that, I’ll get embarrassed.”

“…Pardon?”

Startled back to her senses, Anette hurriedly lowered her gaze, about to apologize, when Cardin tilted his head slightly and whispered,

“I’m actually rather shy, you know.”

“I-I see…”

Anette nodded, feeling utterly disoriented.

Cardin let out a short breath—“Phew”—and, still kneeling on one knee, bowed his head.

“Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Cardin Harzent.”

We’re here for the sake of an alliance between nations.

She knew that—but his plain introduction, as if none of that mattered, made her feel strange. Still, Anette bowed her head politely in return.

“I am Anette Hayworth.”

Not adding Princess of Hayworth made her heart feel oddly lighter.

“I know, Princess.”

“……”

The response was strange in its own way.

Princess, royal daughter—it meant the same thing, yet perhaps because of how gentle his voice was, Anette felt an odd tickle in her ears.

As she fidgeted unconsciously with her fingers, a hand extended toward her—long, smooth, and unblemished, so elegant it was hard to believe it belonged to a knight who wielded a sword.

Anette blinked, then slowly reached out her own hand.

Small. Soft.
A child’s hand, without a single callus.