Chapter 8

　　Among the countless aides who had come and gone over the past year, Chloe Amboise had remained for an unprecedented three months. She placed the documents on the desk with impeccable posture, saluted, and then exited the room.

　　The two men, who hadn’t uttered a single word from the moment Chloe entered until she left, exchanged glances only after the door clicked shut. It was Curtis who broke the silence.

　　"…Was she from the Navy?" he murmured.

　　"Curtis," Noel warned, shaking his head.

　　But Curtis was already pulling Chloe Amboise’s appointment review documents from a file in his drawer and leafing through them. A family of First Class Baronets. From the Navy. And, most thankfully, she held a special hereditary title.

　　"Her family appears quite poor," Noel interjected urgently. "Curtis, no."

　　Curtis, mid-flip through the pages, frowned and looked up. "I’m not suggesting I’ll immediately approach her. Above all, if things go awry, I might genuinely have to go through with a marriage, and the disparity in our social standing is simply too vast."

　　Noel remained silent.

　　"Trying to avoid Glintland might only lead to a more complicated aftermath," Curtis continued. "If possible, it would make far more sense to find a truly decent marriage partner within fifteen days, align our stories, and propose."

　　"It truly is a relief that you think so, but…" Noel sighed softly.

　　In the end, the two resolved to exert their utmost effort to find a shrewd and convincing young lady within fifteen days who could serve as a shield for Curtis Sean Berk.

　　But it proved impossible. Proposals, after all, were generally presided over by the elders of the family. No matter how much of an object of envy Curtis was, to those elders, he was someone disliked by the King, and due to his temperament and position, a rather reluctant match. How could he possibly select suitable young ladies of the same age, discreetly approach their family elders, and propose within fifteen days?

　　Eventually, Curtis reviewed Chloe’s documents once again. And, with a decisive air, he designated Chloe as his aide for that day’s banquet.

* * *

　　Curtis concluded his explanation with a weary sigh. "…I did consider you, Warrant Officer Amboise, but I genuinely believed the probability of it actually coming to this was low."

　　His words, however, did little to explain why Chloe herself had to endure such a spectacle at the banquet.

　　"Originally, I planned to show you the situation and then carefully ask for your cooperation."

　　Cooperation, she mused, as the red brooch in her hand felt smooth and cool.

　　"Are you asking me to pose as your fiancée?" she inquired.

　　"…Rather than marriage, I had intended to ask you to pretend to be my lover for the time being." Curtis covered his eyes with his hand, a gesture of profound resignation.

　　Chloe felt a pang of bitterness. Well, it was understandable. He couldn’t have foreseen the King so suddenly bringing up a marriage proposal to the Duchess of Glintland. If Curtis had merely claimed they were lightly dating, the King would likely have dismissed the entire charade, exchanged proposals on the spot, and ordered them to marry, thus ending the situation.

　　"Given the circumstances, there’s no other option," Chloe said, absentmindedly scratching her brow.

　　At her words, Curtis flinched, lowered his hand, and stared at her, an expression of utter disbelief on his face. "…Do you fully understand what this entails?" he asked.

　　"I do," Chloe replied simply.

　　"I think we need to confirm if we’re on the same page. Explain what you inferred."

　　"Well," she began, a hint of playful mischief in her voice, "it means that the beauty and intellect of Navy Warrant Officer Amboise have captivated the heart of His Highness Grand Duke Berk, and she is now destined to become the Grand Duchess."

　　On any normal day, Curtis Sean Berk would undoubtedly have frowned at Chloe’s jest, delivered without even a hint of a smile, and retorted with something like, ‘Do you find me amusing?’ Disciplinary action would surely follow. But this, clearly, was an emergency.

　　"…I have much to say, but let’s assume that’s roughly correct," Curtis conceded, his answer confirming the gravity of their predicament.

　　As Chloe processed this, Curtis’s next question was posed to her. "And?"

　　"And in the face of His Majesty the King’s pressure, a force akin to a natural disaster, I realized my love anew and decided to accept the Brigadier General’s proposal, didn’t I, darling?"

　　Curtis, momentarily stunned by Chloe’s nonchalant tone, quickly cleared his throat and regained his composure. "Thank you," he managed.

　　Chloe, her tone bright, asked back, "For what?"

　　His expression was wry. "…Didn’t you just say you would help me?"

　　She merely smiled brilliantly, remaining silent. Curtis watched her for a moment before speaking again. "Do you need anything else? Whatever you desire…"

　　"Brigadier General, did you know?" Chloe interrupted, tumbling the brooch in her palm. The round, sparkling red brooch offered a pleasant tactile sensation to her fingertips.

　　Since her appointment as Curtis’s aide three months prior, Chloe had cursed fate amidst a life defined by endless overtime and suffering, convinced that if any god existed, they certainly weren’t on her side. But now, she was convinced that all that suffering had merely been a prelude, prepared by providence for a greater happiness. If any god existed, they were undoubtedly on Chloe’s side.

　　Otherwise, they wouldn’t have granted such a golden opportunity: the chance to exact revenge on the superior she had always wanted to pummel.

　　"Love cannot be bought with money," she stated, her gaze unwavering.

　　"…What are you saying?" Curtis asked, bewildered.

　　"I believe that genuine actions are what truly define love." Chloe clarified.

　　Of course, Curtis didn’t appear to believe her words. But Chloe was sincere. Chloe Amboise, who had been staring at the red brooch for a long while, finally met his gaze and smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

　　"For starters," she began.

　　Curtis remained silent, watching her with a wary expression.

　　"On your knees, Your Highness."

　　The forehead of the Kingdom’s most handsome man instantly creased in a deep frown.

　　It felt really damn good.

* * *

　　At this point, it’s necessary to revisit Chloe’s first day as Curtis’s aide. After all, she hadn’t wanted to pummel her superior from the very beginning.

　　"Chloe Amboise. As of today, you are appointed as Brigadier General Berk’s direct aide. Your rank: Warrant Officer."

　　On that day, Chloe had felt buoyant. It was a truly warm spring day. The Royal Guard building she’d been assigned to was incredibly beautiful. The contract, stamped with generous incentives and quite high allowances, was even more beautiful. She should have recognized the warning when the other Royal Guard members cast pitying glances at her as she signed.

　　"Warrant Officer Amboise."

　　"I look forward to working with you, sir!"

　　She still remembered Curtis Sean Berk’s response to her crisp salute on her first day.

　　"Do you have no intention of cutting that hair short?"

　　"…Pardon?" Chloe doubted her ears. Her hand unwittingly rose to touch her hair. It was a ponytail, tied up tightly and neatly for her first day of duty. Was there a problem?

　　"I don’t believe my words were unclear," Grand Duke Berk stated, his expression perfectly neutral.

　　Though flustered, Chloe answered with effort. "It was not specified in the Guard decorum regulations I reviewed, but if I am mistaken, I will rectify it."

　　"You are correct. It is not a provision."

　　"Pardon? But then why…"

　　The Grand Duke, seated behind his massive desk, crossed his arms and replied, "You don’t appear to intend to cut it. Continue coming to work in that state from now on."

　　"Pardon? Your Highness…"

　　"Warrant Officer Chloe Amboise," Grand Duke Berk interjected, cutting off Chloe’s attempt to ask again, without even listening. "If you question my words one more time, you too will face a pay cut."

　　’You too.’ The plural form reeked of the unspoken threat: ‘Choose your words wisely, or you’re screwed.’ Having served in the military for a long time, Chloe instinctively clamped her mouth shut rather than exploring that ominous feeling.

　　Seeing Chloe fall silent, Grand Duke Berk nodded lightly, his fingertip indicating a small room adjacent to his office. "Go there and do your work."

　　"Yes, sir!" she replied, saluting.

　　Entering that room in a daze, unable to fully grasp the situation, Chloe was confronted by a mountain of documents. And there, beside the desk, a small bed stood, uncharacteristically clean amidst the paper chaos.

　　Thinking about it now, it was absurd. An aide’s office. A bed in a space specifically designed for work. Why was there a bed? But at the time, Chloe was too flustered, too preoccupied with the supposed problem with her hair length, to consider the bed’s true significance.

　　Of course, the truth behind the seemingly innocuous question, "Do you have no intention of cutting that hair short?" was soon revealed.

　　"The Grand Duke likes things clean…" Lieutenant Noel explained.

　　’Likes things clean’ was, in fact, an understatement; to be precise, it meant he was a mysophobe. Curtis Sean Berk despised any trace of others remaining in his personal space—not just other people’s hair, but their body odor as well.

　　"If you had come with your hair down," Noel continued, "he probably wouldn’t have even accepted your greeting…"

　　Only then did the pieces fall into place for Chloe. A total mysophobe. Figures. There was no way all nineteen aides had quit voluntarily. Some, like Chloe, would have needed the immediate salary, and even if not, the prestige of serving as an aide to the ‘War Hero’ Curtis Sean Berk would undoubtedly benefit one’s military career in various ways.

　　Yet, more than half of the aides had been dismissed due to perceived uncleanliness. Some were reportedly fired for smelling of sweat; another was allegedly shown the door because they hadn’t been able to wash due to excessive overtime.

　　Of course, those incidents alone couldn’t fully account for all the ill will Chloe harbored towards Grand Duke Berk.

　　And then there was this:

　　"Warrant Officer? Where are you going? You’re not trying to leave work when the task isn’t finished, are you?" Curtis’s voice cut through her thoughts.

　　"Um, no, sir. Certainly not, Your Highness," Chloe stammered. "I, I was just going to the supply department to get ink…"

　　"Then why do you wear such a look?"

　　"My apologies, Your Highness! My face is rather gloomy by nature!"