Chapter 10
One day, as he happened to pass the junior officers’ lounge of the Royal Guard, he’d overheard Chloe and several other officers badmouthing him while playing cards for money.
…Should I go in and silence them?
Noel had fidgeted, asking Curtis if he should intervene against the indiscriminate slander pouring through the door—of a superior, and a close friend, no less. But Curtis had simply waved a dismissive hand.
“Am I not just as busy badmouthing the King to you when no one else is around?” he’d mused.
“But still…” Noel had protested.
“I consider it a common virtue for a working professional—for an aide who’s been up three nights in a row—to secretly call me that,” Curtis had reasoned.
Of course, if they dared utter “crazy bastard” where he could hear them, they would deserve disciplinary action—perhaps on the drill field. But the junior officers’ lounge was their space for respite, was it not? Curtis possessed that much discretion.
Besides that, frankly, Curtis found the prospect of yet another change in aide rather annoying.
All in all, he regarded Chloe quite favorably. Should he ever return to the front lines, he might even bestow upon her the honor of being drafted into the Army.
He had eyed her as a strategic bride candidate and ultimately claimed her before the King precisely because he considered Chloe a ‘decent and proper human being.’
Furthermore, his decent and proper aide had lived up to his expectations, performing the role of a sudden lover exceedingly well. She was quick-witted, and her improvisational skills were commendable. After that day’s banquet, Chloe scored high praise with Curtis once again, her standing rising from ‘a quite decent human’ to ‘a human I find to my liking.’
So, naturally, if his aide desired something like a formal proposal, he could grant it at any time.
In fact, regardless of how the situation had unfolded, he felt a twinge of guilt toward the aide who had so suddenly become his marriage partner.
Marriage to a loved one was a pipe dream for someone of his standing, but not for her, a quasi-noble. A love match wouldn’t be a significant blemish on her name. There were even advantages to her being from a ‘lower-class family.’
A small wish for a proposal, which a maiden of marriageable age might harbor deep in her heart, was hardly a major impediment.
“Officer Amboise is likely familiar with this gem,” Curtis continued. “It is the ‘Flame of Divinity.’”
It was an exceptionally famous jewel. Indeed, Noel would have fainted outright had he known this ring was kept casually in a desk drawer. Yet Curtis had his rationale: he kept it close at hand, ready to present immediately should a marriage with any eligible young lady become a possibility. It was an item designed to make anyone view such a union as a rather good deal, though he certainly hadn’t expected to use it quite like this.
Curtis smiled softly as he looked up at her, only to be met with his aide’s face, contorted as if she’d tasted something foul.
“…Officer Amboise?” he asked, instinctively sensing something was amiss.
* * *
Between Chloe and Curtis, there was, surprisingly, one commonality: both were quick to grasp a situation. Curtis frowned, his earlier composure fraying as he asked, “You didn’t want a proposal?”
If she said yes now, the situation would undoubtedly become even more convoluted.
“…No, sir,” she replied.
“Then what did you mean?” Curtis pressed, a hint of steel in his tone.
Chloe took a deep breath, remaining silent for a moment.
“Your Highness,” she began slowly, “when one person asks a favor of another… they usually…”
Of course, her judgment that it was better to answer immediately didn’t mean the words ‘kneel and beg’ burst forth unbidden. Yet, from her momentary hesitation alone, Curtis grasped her full meaning.
When someone asks a favor of another, they usually beg earnestly. Her demand to kneel… it wasn’t a request for a proposal.
“Warrant Officer Amboise,” Curtis said, his voice laced with disbelief, “have you lost your mind?!”
For a retort to someone who’d just ordered royalty to kneel and beg, it was, arguably, quite a dignified response.
However, Chloe felt a slight surge of indignation at his words. After all, what he had said about her in front of the King was, from her perspective, quite sufficient to be categorized as a form of insanity itself. But Chloe couldn’t simply ask Curtis if he was crazy; this was the military, after all. Still, she had no intention of kindly explaining that she hadn’t, or brushing it off as a joke.
“Sir,” Chloe responded, her tone dangerously sharp, “shall I request a review from the medical corps to ascertain whether the events I, Chloe Amboise, experienced today are sufficient to drive one insane?”
It was a statement brazen enough to warrant time in the brig. And upon hearing those words, Curtis snapped the small ring box in his hand shut.
Noblemen typically lined their ring boxes with velvet to prevent unpleasant noises, a luxury purchased with good money. Yet this beautifully inlaid box made a sharp sound as it was forced shut in Curtis’s grip.
“That’s less amusing than the ‘darling’ business,” Curtis retorted, his voice tight. “Stop joking, Warrant Officer Amboise.”
“It is not a joke,” Chloe countered, her chin raised.
The man’s beautiful violet eyes narrowed, turning fierce. “Are you telling me to undergo disciplinary action right here in front of you? Is that it?”
“Precisely.”
The atmosphere between them grew taut. Chloe clenched her fists where they rested on her knees. Curtis, who had been resting one arm on his knee, now rubbed his forehead as if utterly dumbfounded. Chloe swallowed, then spoke again.
“Your Highness,” she said, her voice formal despite the underlying insolence, “according to the Ivanes Army Tactics Manual, during negotiations it is usually advantageous to state the content and compensation plan with specificity.”
“Warrant Officer,” Curtis shot back, a muscle twitching in his jaw, “my rank is Brigadier General. Do you truly think I haven’t read that book?”
“Then it seems I needn’t say anything further,” Chloe concluded sweetly.
At the polite yet utterly insolent answer, a vein pulsed on Curtis’s forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a slow, deep breath, and spoke.
“Fine. Marry me. Of course, I will not demand the duties of the Grand Duchess of Berk or anything else from you. If you wish, I will even grant you a divorce after a certain period, citing my own culpability.”
It was a proposal without a speck of romance, a bold retort delivered in lieu of acceptance.
“Is that all?” Chloe asked, a challenge in her voice.
Curtis didn’t panic; he’d expected as much. “I will give you whatever compensation you desire,” he offered. “First, I’ll cancel the salary reduction order I issued this afternoon. As I said in the hall, I’ll offer the incentives as well. I know you wish to be transferred, so…”
“Guaranteed transfer, cancellation of the pay cut, and a special promotion,” Chloe interrupted smoothly. “Those are matters I already acknowledged during the audience.”
“…Then do you truly mean for me to undergo disciplinary action or something of the sort?” At these evasive words, so unlike his usually clear-headed aide, Curtis finally lost his temper.
But instead of being startled into her usual, prompt “My apologies!” his aide merely pursed her lips. A moment later, she retorted with a distinctly defiant attitude.
“If you don’t want to, then don’t,” Chloe replied with a shrug. “Instead, tomorrow morning, I will bid farewell to Your Highness and return to being a diligent aide.”
“Return?” Curtis gaped, disbelief twisting his features at her brazen words. Chloe tilted her head lightly.
“I am also aware that lying before His Majesty the King is a felony, Your Highness,” she said, her voice sweet.
“What the…” Curtis mumbled.
“I’ll simply state that while I agreed to marry you in His Majesty’s presence, I went home, washed my feet, and upon mulling it over, found the burden too great to bear.” She meant she wouldn’t be lying to the King, but rather pretending to be someone who broke off an engagement due to societal pressure, thereby avoiding punishment. Curtis ground his teeth.
“Warrant Officer Amboise, are you aware that the crime of insulting royalty is also a felony?” Curtis growled. You think lying to the King is unacceptable, but telling me to grovel is perfectly fine?
Chloe, correctly interpreting his unspoken question, merely smiled brightly.
“Well,” she chirped, “you’ll lose your status as royalty of this kingdom if you marry the Duchess of Glintland anyway.” Her expression practically screamed, Is that my problem? You’re screwed either way if I dump you.
Curtis’s jaw dropped. The sheer audacity! He wanted to argue, to rebut, but he was so dumbfounded that no words came to mind. He mumbled for a moment, then squeezed his eyes shut, and opened them again before answering.
“…Officer Amboise,” Curtis managed, his voice strained, “I will give you a chance to rectify this, even now.”
“Oh,” Chloe exclaimed, a hint of false admiration in her tone. “How surprising that you believe yourself to be in a position to give me a chance right now, Brigadier General.”
Curtis asked with difficulty, his voice tight, “…Are you at all aware that I am currently your superior?”
“Of course,” Chloe replied, her tone unwavering. “The superior who blocked my path to marriage, made a belated request, and who must now receive my consent, no matter what.”
This was unacceptable. Curtis sprang to his feet.
“…No matter how urgent the situation,” he declared, “I cannot abide hearing people say I married a madwoman. We’ll pretend this never happened.”
Chloe was silent for a moment. But it was only a moment. She smiled brightly, then waved her hand gently at him.
“Please do so, Brigadier General,” she chirped. “I hope you’ll be very happy on the Glintland coast.” Her expression practically screamed, If you don’t like it, go marry her.
Curtis Sean Berk, who had sprung to his feet but couldn’t bring himself to leave the spot, found his hands trembling.
