"It's a charm that's supposed to keep you safe from harm and bring you home in one piece."
I beamed at him as I held out the little gift.
The ornament, woven from black thread and gold embroidery thread, had turned out rather nicely. And no wonder. I'd made it following a secret method taught to me by the Grand Duke's residence's resident occult expert, Mrs. Verona.
When it came to wishing him luck on the battlefield, superstition was apparently my only option.
A few days earlier, Mrs. Verona had looked startled when I burst into her room. But her surprise didn't last long. When I urgently asked her for a protective charm, she adopted a solemn expression.
"In these parts, women traditionally make decorative charms for men going off to hunt or fight in wars."
As expected, Mrs. Verona's expertise extended well beyond exorcisms. She was thoroughly versed in this sort of superstition, too.
With her help, I set about making the charm. Unfortunately, it proved harder than I'd anticipated, and I didn't manage to produce anything presentable until late last night.
Naturally, I'd poured my heartfelt prayers for my precious Success Fee into every stitch.
"……"
Grand Duke Richard stared blankly at the ornament in my palm, neither accepting it nor refusing.
Behind him came the low murmur of voices. Victor and the other soldiers kept stealing glances at us.
"Um… Your Grace? You'll accept it, won't you?"
As I asked, I gave his coat a gentle tug.
He flinched in surprise.
Only then did the Grand Duke snatch the ornament from my hand. He promptly stuffed it inside his coat, as though it were something he wanted to hide from everyone.
His expression had gone rigid, like a man who'd just been subjected to some particularly unwelcome meddling.
I couldn't help frowning.
Victor already looked miserable, apparently having decided that something was wrong between us.
He's going to figure it out at this rate!
I hurriedly caught Benedict's arm.
Of course, I genuinely wanted him to return alive and well. But there was another perfectly good reason I'd dragged myself out of bed before dawn to see him off and give him that charm.
I needed everyone to see how affectionate we were.
We'd been giving each other the cold shoulder lately, which had left me precious few opportunities to show off our supposedly blissful marriage.
The Grand Duke turned toward me with a startled look when I caught his arm.
I, meanwhile, was determined to sell the image of a happily married couple.
I threw my arms around him and spoke in my sweetest voice.
"Please come back safely. I'll be waiting for you."
"……!"
Fortunately, although the force of my embrace made him stagger slightly, he didn't push me away.
I glanced over his broad, solid shoulder.
Only after confirming that Victor was watching us with a delighted smile did I finally release Benedict.
"Then… I'll be on my way."
He swung himself into the saddle and rode off at a brisk pace.
I watched his retreating figure until he disappeared from sight, silently offering one last fervent prayer.
Inheritance taxes in the Empire were outrageously expensive, so please, for heaven's sake, come back alive.
******
A few days later.
News arrived that the elite force led by Grand Duke Richard had successfully completed its subjugation mission. According to the report, they would return to the residence in another two or three days.
At last, I could breathe a sigh of relief.
The weather was particularly lovely that day, so with my worries lifted, I decided to take a stroll through the garden Mrs. Verona tended.
"It's wonderful that His Grace is coming home safely, isn't it?"
"You must have been terribly worried, Your Highness."
Mrs. Verona even dabbed at her eyes.
She'd become considerably friendlier toward me since our first encounter. And once she'd learned that I cared enough about the Grand Duke's safety to seek the protection of supernatural forces, her opinion of me had improved even further.
"Is this your vegetable garden?"
"Yes. We grow vegetables here for the kitchen. You're welcome to have a closer look if you like."
Growing ingredients on the estate would certainly help with the household expenses.
Pleased by the thought, I inspected the beautifully ripening tomatoes, cucumbers, and eggplants.
Then something occurred to me.
I gently stroked one of the plump eggplants.
"At this size… it should be about the same, shouldn't it…?"
"Pardon…?"
Mrs. Verona gave a startled little twitch at my absentminded muttering.
Lost in thought, I weighed the eggplant in my hand.
Could we use this instead of the wooden club?
Before Grand Duke Richard left on his expedition, we'd been conducting reenactments of the murder.
We would probably need to repeat them several more times once he returned, but the wooden club he currently used was far too hard.
And it hurt.
Grand Duke Richard, swinging an eggplant around the bedroom with that stern expression of his…
The mental image was so ridiculous that the corners of my mouth lifted before I could stop them.
He'd probably make a face of utter disgust if he knew I'd even imagined him doing such a thing.
"Though he really is good at it."
Even when he was merely reenacting the crime, there was no disguising the precision of his movements or the sharpness of his swordsmanship.
The man certainly lived up to his reputation as the Battlefield Butcher.
"G-good at what?"
Mrs. Verona flinched again at my muttering.
But I was too absorbed in my thoughts to answer.
The murderer must have been someone skilled with a blade.
The dagger used in the crime had been driven deep into Baron Hayden's back, precisely targeting a vital point.
After reenacting the attack with Benedict several times, I'd come to suspect that the killer must have possessed enough skill to render the victim helpless.
Could the murderer really be Lawrence, the novel's male lead?
I slowly ran my fingers over the eggplant as I pondered the possibility.
Lawrence was exceptionally accomplished in martial arts, as befitted the male protagonist of a romance novel. He certainly met the requirement of being a skilled fighter.
But the evidence was nowhere near sufficient to reach that conclusion.
Besides, voicing such suspicions could get me arrested for insulting a member of the Imperial Family.
I really do need to visit the Kingdom of Grace.
My reasons for insisting on going there extended beyond the clockmaking business.
The last major deal Baron Hayden had secured before his death was an exclusive trade agreement with the Kingdom of Grace.
The banquet where he was murdered had been held to celebrate the successful conclusion of that very agreement.
Perhaps there were clues to his death waiting to be discovered in the Kingdom of Grace.
As the thought occurred to me, my grip tightened unconsciously.
Squelch!
The eggplant burst in my hand.
"Y-Your Highness! I-is something wrong?"
Startled, Mrs. Verona searched my face.
That finally snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, Mrs. Verona. I was just thinking about His Grace for a moment…"
I hastily apologized for ruining one of her precious vegetables, disguising the whole thing as a little accident caused by a wife pining for her husband.
"……!"
But even after hearing my apology, Mrs. Verona's eyes remained wide with shock.
I scratched my cheek awkwardly.
She must have been particularly fond of that eggplant…
Well, it certainly had been an impressively large, healthy specimen.
"I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Verona. I'll eat the ruined eggplant myself at dinner—"
I was about to offer another heartfelt apology to the visibly shaken woman when—
"Excuse me. Would you happen to be Grand Duchess Richard?"
"Eek!"
The unexpected voice behind me made me shriek.
I spun around.
A young man I'd never seen before stood there, looking down at me with an expression even more startled than my own.
He quickly recovered his composure and bowed deeply.
As he straightened, the breeze stirred his warm brown hair, sending its soft waves fluttering.
Then he broke into a broad, dazzling smile and began rummaging through the bag he carried.
"I'm terribly sorry if I startled you. My name is—"
"I'm not buying anything."
"Pardon…?"
The man, who'd been busy searching his bag, poked his head up and blinked at me in confusion.
"I said I'm not buying anything from a traveling salesman."
My refusal was immediate and firm.
Neat clothes, a handsome face, a practiced salesman's smile, and an enormous bag that looked like it belonged to a peddler.
He was practically the picture of a door-to-door salesman.
"Ha ha ha!"
Suddenly, he burst into laughter.
I narrowed my eyes at his unexpected reaction.
After laughing for quite some time, he finally managed to compose himself and offered an even more courteous bow.
"It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Your Highness. My name is Aiden Spencer."
Oh.
Only then did I realize what was happening.
I blinked.
Aiden Spencer.
It was a name I'd seen more than once in the newspapers.
He was the only son and sole heir of the Marquis Spencer family, which had amassed a considerable fortune through trade.
As it happened, I'd heard that his family had agreed to help arrange our upcoming visit to the Kingdom of Grace.
I examined him more carefully, surprised by how different he was from what I'd expected.
He was shorter than Grand Duke Richard, but still considerably taller than most men. His bearing was sophisticated, and his features were strikingly handsome.
But no one had told me he was coming to the residence today.
"I see. And might I ask why you've come to the Grand Duke's residence without sending word ahead, my lord?"
I decided to brazen it out.
Admittedly, I'd mistaken him for a traveling salesman, but we had both been rude in our own ways.
He was hardly blameless himself, showing up unannounced and approaching me out of nowhere.
Of course, it was rather embarrassing that I hadn't considered the obvious fact that some random peddler would never have been allowed into the Grand Duke's private garden.
"Ahem. Well, you see…"
For some reason, the young Lord Spencer looked as though he was struggling not to laugh again.
I gave him a cool look.
"Is something amusing, my lord?"
"Oh, forgive me if I've been discourteous. I merely…"
Finally managing to regain his manners, he held out the item he'd been searching for in his bag.
It was a lilac-colored handkerchief.
"The truth is, Your Highness, there's a bit of eggplant on your cheek."
"……!"
I practically snatched the handkerchief from him and hastily rubbed my cheek.
When I'd scratched my face earlier, I must have smeared some of the eggplant I'd crushed in my hand onto my skin.
"I was perfectly aware of that, actually. I left it there on purpose. There are studies showing that eggplant is good for the skin."
I was so embarrassed I wanted to die, but I kept talking, spouting the first nonsense that came into my head.
The young Lord Spencer smiled, his eyes crinkling pleasantly.
Bright green irises gleamed beneath his curved lashes.
"Of course, Your Highness."
"There's still a little here," he added softly.
Then one of his long fingers reached out and lightly tapped my cheek.
Tap.
"Ah."
I hurriedly wiped away the remaining bit of eggplant, my face burning with embarrassment.
Just then, a low voice sounded above my head.
"What exactly are you two doing here?"
"……!"
I jerked my head up at the familiar voice.
Standing before me was a man who had absolutely no business being here right now.
And he looked absolutely furious.