Chapter 30
Would such an ambitious woman really be content with being her father’s pawn?
“Lost in thought?”
Thinking the Grand Duke was being unreasonably suspicious, I fiddled with the necklace he had given me and said:
“This… can I use it to contact you anytime?”
“Of course. But you only get one chance to throw it, so use it wisely. Don’t bother me needlessly.”
“Throw it? Does it… explode or something?”
“It does.”
What is this, a hand grenade? He gave me something this terrifying as self-defense? If I accidentally drop it, it’ll be a disaster.
“So, after you summon me, throw the necklace at your enemy and get flat on the ground. Best if you can shove it straight into their mouth.”
“…That’s… terrifyingly generous of you.”
Enemy. He spoke as if it were only natural that I’d have them. That enemies would come for me, too.
Listening to this, I was starting to feel like I really had no other choice.
“If I go north, I’ll be openly taking Your Highness’s side… and if you’re already giving me something like this, it means things will be even more dangerous once I get there, right? Honestly, I just want to make one big score, leave, and live quietly with my sister.”
“Make one big score and leave. That’s exactly what I thought when I went after the dragon.”
I hadn’t expected that from him. In the original story, Leon was a man who always aimed higher—rising from commoner to squire, from squire to knight commander, until finally he slew a dragon, became a hero, and took the North as a Grand Duke.
Even after that, he fought desperately against nobles who refused to acknowledge him. I had always thought of him as someone just trying to survive.
“Do you think that will work?”
Leon looked weary as he said it. Understandable. He was bad at politics and constantly under the crown prince’s scrutiny. Unlike a dragon, the crown prince couldn’t be cut down with a sword.
“I won’t be like that.”
Leon didn’t reply, but I could clearly tell he disagreed. He jerked his chin toward the door.
“Out.”
“…What?”
“Our talk is over.”
And there it was again, the infuriating way he always cut conversations short so rudely.
“I’ll see you home, since it’s rare I bother.”
What—seriously? Was he turning over a new leaf?
Okay, cancel what I said about him being irritating.
But before I could even react, I was suddenly in front of my house. The scenery had changed so fast it made me dizzy. No—literally dizzy.
“Aah…”
I stumbled, dropped to my knees, and caught myself on the ground.
Cancel the part about him not being irritating—again.
Two things became clear: teleportation was brutal for the unaccustomed, and I had just been teleported.
“Then why the carriage last time—ugh.”
I vomited into my aunt’s garden, realizing the carriage had actually been an act of kindness.
“And this isn’t ‘taking me home’… it’s delivery! Ughhh…”
After emptying my stomach on the lawn, I staggered into the house. Too many things had happened today.
“Ugh, I’m dying…”
Thankfully, my aunt and cousins were nowhere in sight. When I went upstairs, even Leuke wasn’t around. Maybe she had plans? I flopped onto my bed, but then knock knock knock came from the window.
“What now?”
A bird was pecking at the glass. When I opened it, the bird flew in with a letter tied to its leg. Definitely not a pigeon—maybe some kind of magic. I untied the note.
[Tomorrow at five. Hat shop.]
No sender, but I knew. Who else but Katia?
So much for saying she’d tell me once I was on her side—she wanted to meet tomorrow already? What’s the rush?
“Ugh, can I just rest?!”
But late that night, I couldn’t sleep because I had to listen to an excited Leuke rambling. She’d come home past ten, having met the troupe Katia had gathered. I was quietly impressed by Katia’s speed.
“They all love theater—such fun people! And it’s pretty big. There was even a playwright who said he’d write a play with me in mind as the lead character!”
Leuke was positively glowing. I liked seeing her lively, but Katia’s subtle threats from earlier still weighed on me.
“What’s it about?”
“I didn’t hear. He was still brainstorming, but after meeting me, he said he got a clearer image. Katia told him I was beautiful. Well, that part’s obvious!”
“And? Did they say anything about how the troupe will operate, or the kind of audience they’re aiming for?”
“Not really. I think it’s just a normal theater where anyone can come watch. Oh! Do you remember that quiet young lady we met before? The one who said she writes, too?”
“Yeah.”
She had been one of the three who came to the theater with Leuke. Sasha, who loved plays, and that girl, who wanted me to read her writing someday.
“She’s joining too, even though she’s not a professional playwright. Isn’t that great?”
“What about Shasa? She loves theater.”
“Her family’s too strict. As for me, I don’t care what my aunt thinks, so it’s fine.”
I nodded. Shasa wasn’t the point right now, but it was a bit sad.
“So besides you, Katia, and that young lady, are there any other noblewomen?”
“Oh, yes! There’s one who wants to design costumes—she’ll be in charge of outfits.”
“And her parents don’t object?”
“Hmm… she didn’t say anything about that.”
If Katia really cared about theater, that would be one thing. But it seemed more like she wanted to build connections—artists hoping to mingle with nobles, families hoping to gain Katia’s favor. A network of mutual exploitation. And in the middle of it all, I feared, Leuke might end up as the sacrifice.
Used as a pretty face to draw attention, then discarded when scandal hit. That would be the worst.
“What are you worrying about?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“You think I won’t do well? That I’ll just get criticized?”
“No, never! I just worry about the play’s content—and what Katia really wants from this troupe.”
Leuke nodded.
“True. Things did get dangerous before, when we staged that play about the Grand Duke.”
“Exactly.”
“And everyone now seems to be someone of standing, or noble-born. And since I’d be the lead, I’d stand out the most. If anything happened, I’d have no parents to shield me—it’d all fall on me. That’s what you’re thinking, right?”
Lately, she’d been reading me far too easily. I just nodded, embarrassed. But she looked proud.
“Not bad, huh?”
“Yeah, not bad.”
“But isn’t this exactly the way out of the Batington marriage mess?”
I stared at her.
“With Katia’s name attached, I could get into another troupe afterward. Even if I had to leave the capital, even if it were just you and me together somewhere else—I’d be fine with that.”
She was ready to take the risk. But I didn’t want that for her. I wanted her to avoid Batington, live wealthy and comfortable, not suffer. Happiness isn’t only in comfort, but still—I didn’t want to see her hurt.
“Then I’ll make that small troupe into a big one for you. This time, without anyone chasing us out.”
“You really are reliable.”
Leuke was clearly thinking hard about her path, preparing herself for risks, too.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling Katia’s scheme was on another level entirely. She was Count Schacht’s pawn, after all. The Count wasn’t described much in the original, but he had immense power. And Katia herself had likely orchestrated several nasty smear campaigns.
“Still, I don’t think it’ll be a problem for now. They even said we might perform at imperial events… it’s almost like an official institution. That’s why Shasa’s parents might eventually allow her to join.”
My heart sank. Leuke said it brightly, but to me, it was terrifying.
If the troupe had ties to the imperial family, it wouldn’t just be about art anymore. It would become a direct channel for imperial messaging. Considering Katia’s earlier use of plays to attack the Grand Duke, this troupe would be a far more dangerous weapon. Which meant Leuke would be in serious danger.
“That’s good news. Then I can stop worrying.”
“Hah. You sound just like a fussy mom. Lucky for you, you’re my sister.”
“Hey, I don’t actually stop you from doing things, though!”
“Hmph. Whatever. Just make sure you come watch me on stage!”
“Only if you give me a ticket.”
“Fine!”
With that, Leuke went to her room. I lay awake, wondering what Katia would say when we met, and what I should say in return—until I finally drifted off.
