Episode 5
“Good, I’m glad to hear Letty’s been paying attention in class. Len, what about you? Are your lessons going okay? Not too hard lately?”
“Hmm, the literature lessons are moving a little too fast. There are so many words I don’t know in the new book, and it’s hard to follow, but the teacher says she’ll explain everything after we finish reading.”
Hearing Lenart’s words, Father nodded.
“Alright, we’ll talk to your teacher about that. Mari, Ken, how about you two? Nothing difficult for you?”
“Not at all, Uncle. I actually like subjects like geography and history—they’re fun.”
“I’m fine with everything else, but I really don’t want to take dance class, Uncle. It’s too hard…”
Kenneth didn’t seem to have any complaints, but Marianne made a truly miserable face as she voiced her dislike for dance.
Mother let out a weary sigh, forcing a wry smile.
“Just like Tori, and now you too, Mari… why do all of you hate dancing so much? Don’t you plan to go out into society someday?”
“No way, Aunt! I’d never do that!”
When Marianne shook her head so fiercely in refusal, Mother didn’t press any further.
Even to Leticia, it was obvious that Marianne wouldn’t suit the social scene at all.
“Marianne, smiling and dancing at a ball? I might as well send one of my dolls instead—people would probably like that more.”
“That kind of thing seems like something you’d be good at, Letty. When are you learning to dance?”
“Dance? I learned a little today—the Pontheon traditional steps.”
Leticia answered proudly, as if waiting for the question. Hearing that her teacher had praised her, Marianne’s face lit up as if she’d just seen her savior.
“Then Leti should go to society instead, Aunt! She likes being around people, too. She’d be way better at it than me.”
From the way Marianne said it, it sounded like only Leticia should be sent out to social events. Leticia blinked, unable to hide her confusion.
“A debut…? Aren’t my sisters going?”
She had always assumed every noble lady had to debut into society—she’d never even considered the alternative.
Since even her oldest cousin, Victoria, wasn’t old enough to debut yet, she’d just vaguely thought: ‘I guess everyone will, when the time comes.’
But maybe the original novel hadn’t covered everything after all.
Realizing that, Leticia carefully cut a piece of steak and brought it to her mouth, trying to follow the dining etiquette she’d learned earlier that day.
‘By the time I’ve mastered all this… maybe I’ll have really become a person of this world.’
***
Later, in the children’s playroom, Leticia sat on the carpet sipping cocoa.
“Mari, earlier you said I should be the one to go to society. So… you and Tori aren’t going?”
Marianne stopped coloring her tree and answered casually.
“I’m never going, and Tori probably won’t either.”
“Why not? Don’t nobles have to go to society?”
“Not necessarily. The whole point of the social season is to find a marriage partner. If you’re not looking to get married right away, there’s no need to go.”
Leticia thought of the balls she’d read about in romance fantasy novels—
“The elegant dances, the witty banter, the villains getting their comeuppance, and the spilled drinks that ruin dresses—it’s practically tradition.”
But instead of romantic duels, this “society” was… a marriage market?
“And our family runs a jewelry business,” Marianne continued. “So if we go to society, we’d have to promote our jewels, too. But I hate people staring at me. So I’ll only go if I have to—like when I’m looking for a husband.”
“Would you even be able to find one that way? Wouldn’t it be easier to just get introduced to someone?”
“That’s not allowed.”
Leticia didn’t know the word for “arranged marriage,” so she described it roundaboutly. Kenneth, who had been quietly reading sheet music nearby, suddenly joined in.
“Our family has to marry for love. So we can’t do arranged marriages.”
“Marry for love?”
Leticia tilted her head. In most romance novels, the leads did marry for love—but being required to do so? That was new.
“The adults say it’s because our family needs to give people dreams and romance. People prefer love stories over practical arrangements.”
“Yeah,” Marianne chimed in, “people love stories about true love. That’s why romance novels sell so well.”
Leticia blinked in disbelief.
“Why do we have to give anyone dreams and romance? What are we, princesses of some fairy kingdom obsessed with love?”
“…Where’d you even hear that?” Kenneth sighed. “I don’t really know either—it’s just what the adults said. Apparently it helps Sharon Jewelry’s image.”
He clearly didn’t understand much beyond that—understandable for a nine-year-old.
“So that means we all have to fall in love ourselves? Find our own partners?”
“Yeah. Though if I could, I’d rather just stay single…”
“Mari, we’re nine. Maybe save that thought for later.”
It wasn’t the kind of conversation typical nine-year-olds had, but Leticia didn’t comment.
To fall in love and marry by one’s own choice…
‘Then I might end up marrying a “romance novel male lead,” huh?’
If that rule applied, she’d have to find her own male lead.
‘In the original story, the main ones were Arrieta, the three dukes’ sons, and Matthias… everyone else was basically background.’
She mused over typical male-lead archetypes.
‘Knight? No, that was Achill. Priest? Doesn’t seem like religion’s a big deal here. Beastman or dragon type? Doesn’t fit the setting, but maybe… watch out for animals anyway. Tyrant type? That could be Matthias someday. Mage tower master? Need to check if a mage tower even exists first…’
“Hey, Mari, Ken—does the North have a duke or something?”
“The Northern Duke? You mean the Alistair Duchy?”
“Yes! That one. What kind of family is it? Who’s the duke?”
Kenneth set his sheet music down and explained.
“The Alistair Duchy is vacant. The last heir, Lady Emilia—now the late Empress—married His Majesty, so the duchy was absorbed into the imperial family.”
“Lady Emilia, the former Empress?”
That name was familiar—Matthias’s late mother, a key figure in his tragic backstory.
‘Right, she died early, and Matthias went dark after reading her diary… that’s all I remember.’
The novel barely mentioned the rest of the imperial family, so Leticia knew little else. She did remember, though, that the current Empress was the second wife, and that the first—Emilia—had died within a year of giving birth to Matthias.
‘So the former Empress was from the Northern Duke’s family? No wonder the Crown Prince had black hair and red eyes.’
That meant Matthias was both Crown Prince and de facto heir of the North.
‘So much for a Northern Duke male lead—he’s already taken every title in sight.’
Her mind spun with archetypes.
‘Ugh, forget it. There’s no way anyone worse than the original male leads exists anyway.’
And with that, Leticia stopped thinking altogether. Some things were better left undecided for now.
