It was obvious Curtis’s reaction stemmed from a repulsion to the title ‘Her Highness the Grand Duchess.’ This was precisely what Noel intended, and he smiled mischievously.
“Before, I addressed her as Warrant Officer, but now that the marriage is confirmed, has she not become too distinguished for me to address so casually?”
“Noel, are you taking your anger out on me for the trouble I caused last night?”
“I am quite accustomed to that kind of trouble.”
“Then what?”
“I’m thinking of applying for a transfer because I’m terrified to face Agatha.
What do you think?”
Only then did Curtis grasp the reason for Noel’s sulking, and he let out a soft chuckle.
“If you transfer, I shall be sure to tell Agatha, ‘The one who prevented my marriage to you was none other than the proud Second Lieutenant Noel Monfils himself.”
“Do not utter such terrifying threats, Your Highness.”
Noel’s younger sister had harbored a crush on Curtis for quite some time.
She had even gone so far as to apply for the Royal Guard.
However, that course of action was fraught with problems.
In Curtis’s mental calculations, Agatha had initially emerged as a candidate for Grand Duchess before Chloe, but Noel had also been the one to thwart it.
‘Not her.’
To be clear, his objection wasn’t born of some poignant brotherly fear that his sister would suffer political harm by marrying Curtis.
From Noel’s perspective, Curtis was the one to be pitied.
Had Curtis harbored feelings for Agatha, it might have been different, but that was not the case.
Now that Curtis’s marriage had been announced throughout the realm, however, Noel wondered how the tenacious Agatha was behaving at home.
He feigned a headache in front of Curtis.
“In the first place….”
Just as Curtis was about to speak, a sharp knock sounded at the drawing room door.
As if on cue, both men fell silent, turning their gazes toward the entrance.
A servant entered from the drawing room to politely announce the visitor.
“Lady Chloe Amboise is here to see you.”
“Come in,” Curtis gestured, his tension visibly easing.
Chloe, who peered in from the doorway, also looked as though she hadn’t slept a wink.
While Noel dismissed the servant and closed the door, Curtis rolled up his sleeves and strode toward the drawing room.
Chloe, who had been standing hesitantly by the door, reflexively saluted.
“Warrant Officer Chloe Amboise report—”
“We need to address that ridiculous greeting first, ‘my Grand Duchess’.”
At the mention of ‘Grand Duchess,’ Chloe stared at Curtis as if she had been doused with muddy water.
It was quite a sight to behold.
Curtis stroked his chin with interest, observing her dazed state before turning to Noel.
“Did I look like this earlier?”
Noel shrugged nonchalantly.
“They say married couples grow to resemble each other.”
Curtis scoffed.
“That gives me the chills.”
The frozen Chloe belatedly snapped back to her senses, but it was already too late.
“Sit,” Curtis commanded, flopping arrogantly onto the drawing room sofa.
“I was about to send for you anyway, so this is convenient.
How is the annex?”
Chloe stiffened, her posture rigid as she replied.
“Ah, Iris and Leah seemed surprised, but they are resting now.”
“Good.
And have you kept them quiet?”
“I convinced them,” Chloe affirmed.
It couldn’t have been easy persuading her family about a sudden marriage, given she hadn’t even had a suitor the day before.
Curtis once again felt a surge of satisfaction at the competence of the woman he had chosen as his wife.
“I trust you handled it well.
But what brings you here?”
“There is one thing I would like to ask.”
“Might we perhaps postpone the wedding?”
No matter how competent she was, convincing her family to accept a wedding as early as next week had clearly proven challenging.
It was to be expected.
Curtis refused immediately.
“No.
It’s because of the superstition, is it not?”
“…Yes.
My sister is worried.
She asked if I could wait at least a year.”
Chloe replied without much resistance, as if she had expected him to refuse.
Curtis made a show of cleaning his ear.
“Since it has been three months since you left the Navy, you are to do it in nine months?”
“Yes.”
“Surely you don’t believe in that superstition as well, Officer Amboise?”
It was a superstition exclusive to the Ivanes Navy: that any unmarried female officer would face great unhappiness if she married within a year of her discharge.
At Curtis’s gaze, which implied she was pathetic beyond measure, Chloe bristled.
“You call it a mere superstition, but the Royal Family itself excluded all noblewomen serving in the Navy when selecting candidates for the Princess Consort last year.”
And it was true.
The superstition, strange as it seemed, was an ancient and well-established one, deeply connected to the founding myth of Ivanes.
Thanks to it, all women in the Ivanes Navy, regardless of their status, were excluded from consideration as Prince Frederick’s bride.
The reason the King was frustrated upon seeing Chloe was precisely that.
“Thanks to that, Officer Amboise, you are sitting here being called by a ridiculous title by me.”
The ridiculous title, of course, referred to ‘Grand Duchess.’
In any case, the founding myth of Ivanes was simple.
A man once lived on the Prado Coast.
He lost his beloved to an evil landlord and, in despair, leaped into the sea to die.
But along the way, he happened upon a dying young dragon and saved its life.
With the young dragon’s aid, the man slew the evil landlord and reclaimed his beloved.
The people, formerly subjugated by the landlord, pleaded with the man, “Please, rule over us.”
The man founded a country on that very coast and became the first King of Ivanes.
The young dragon, who shared a deep friendship with him, then fell into a profound sleep to mature into an adult, right there on the Prado Coast.
Before falling asleep, the young dragon made a request of the king: as dragons are vulnerable while sleeping before they reach adulthood, he asked that a navy be established on the Prado Coast to protect him.
The King willingly established a navy and stationed it there.
Up to this point, it was a common founding legend that could exist in any realm.
The superstition, however, arose from what came next.
The dragon asked the King for a rather anachronistic favor: to fill the Navy with beautiful young women who would become his brides once he reached adulthood.
It was a three-hundred-year-old story, so certain allowances had to be made, but every time Chloe heard it, she thought it was a truly dreadful myth.
That is why, in any case, seventy percent of the Ivanes Navy has been composed of women from its inception three hundred years ago until today.
For context, upon enlistment, every woman had to sign a clause agreeing to become engaged to the dragon.
Some viewed it as a mere formality, but that was not the case.
Due to the clause signed upon enlistment, unmarried naval women had to be discharged in order to marry.
However, a superstition was added: if they married before a year had passed since their discharge, they would be cursed by the dragon, enraged by his fiancée’s betrayal.
Furthermore, because of this, the Prado Coast, where the dragon supposedly sleeps, is considered a sacred and inviolable territory by neighboring countries, including Ivanes.
“That is all a lie,” Curtis scoffed.
“How can you be so certain?”
“What is the percentage of female personnel in the Navy?”
It was a fact known to nearly every citizen of Ivanes.
As a former naval officer, there was no way Chloe wouldn’t know.
Why ask a question to which everyone knew the answer?
Usually, it was to elicit a desired response.
Chloe answered succinctly.
“Seventy percent.”
“And among high-ranking officers?”
Chloe’s eyes narrowed.
The implication was suddenly clear.
‘She isn’t surprised,’ Curtis thought, amused.
“Though I must admit, I wondered if the Navy’s leadership would truly stoop to such a petty and childish method.”
Chloe raised an eyebrow.
“And you believe they did?”
Curtis gestured behind him toward the royal palace.
Chloe snorted, having witnessed the King’s appallingly childish display just last night.
“If you’ve served in the navy, then you know the real reason no one approaches the Prado Coast is due to nothing more than its treacherous currents.”
“The currents are astonishingly swift, it’s true,” Chloe conceded with a sigh.
Indeed.
The Prado Coast was an essential sea route for any invasion of Ivanes, but its currents were fast and its waters shallow; anyone who approached carelessly would pay a heavy price.
“So other nations avoid the Prado Coast not out of respect, but because the risks of crossing outweigh any potential gains?”
“Precisely,” Curtis confirmed.
“But to admit as much would wound their pride, so they prattle on about it being a sanctuary, feigning respect for the territory.”
This was something Chloe had constantly questioned herself while serving in the navy.
In truth, the naval forces stationed at the Prado Coast rarely launched vessels into the open sea, which was precisely why they were derided as a motley crew.
Thanks to the swift currents, they had never once engaged in battle since their inception.
Naturally, military discipline grew lax.
Even if a soldier like Chloe harbored doubts, the prevailing atmosphere made it difficult to voice them.
But now, Curtis was affirming her long-held suspicions.
“As an officer from that ragtag navy—where seventy percent are women, yet its command is comprised entirely of old men—tell me: do you truly believe misfortune will befall you for marrying immediately after your discharge from such a force?”
“May I speak honestly?”
“Go ahead.”
“I do not believe anything could be more unfortunate than being called ‘Grand Duchess’ right now.”
It was a mutinous remark, one that would have horrified anyone else.
Yet, only this past dawn, Curtis had acknowledged her as his superior.
As proof, the ‘Flame of Divinity’ gleamed upon her finger as she sat before him.
Curtis bared his teeth in a grin.
“Since you enjoy it so,” Curtis declared, “from now on, instead of Warrant Officer, I shall call you my Consort.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Noel, just then emerging from Curtis’s dressing room with a jacket, beamed.
“I’m glad to see the future couple getting along so well.”
Both Curtis and Chloe wore expressions as if they had just tasted something foul.
Curtis was the first to recover.
“Very well.
Have you written down everything I instructed?”
“Yes, well, roughly…” Chloe replied, offering the papers she had been clutching since her arrival.
Second Lieutenant Noel took them from her and passed them to Curtis.
Curtis picked up the spectacles resting on the table, donned them, and read the title aloud with deliberate emphasis.
“Marriage Contract.”