After the meeting ended, I returned to my office. The person who was always supposed to be there was absent. We had clearly come back to Winter Castle together. Where had she gone? I called out for Alfredo, who should have been just outside. But Alfredo, who would normally appear in an instant, never showed — instead, one of the guards slipped in quietly.
"What is it. Where did Alfredo go?"
"Your Grace. It's, well, it concerns the Grand Duchess, my lady..."
"Why does the Grand Duchess keep coming up."
Alfredo and Daniela had both disappeared at the same time. This was something of a problem. I stepped out of the office and walked down the corridor. The maids were moving at a brisk pace. They weren't the sort to bustle about like this under normal circumstances.
I followed in the direction the maids were heading. Those who lived in Winter Castle under the name of Wintergard were expected to maintain their dignity. At the far end of the corridor, Alfredo was directing the maids like a field commander. I had thought something had gone wrong, but —
"Is something the matter, Alfredo?"
"Ah, Your Grace! We are preparing a banquet for the Grand Duchess!"
"A banquet? What banquet?"
"Today is the day the Grand Duchess first arrived at Winter Castle — should we not mark the occasion?"
"I hadn't heard anything about this."
"It has always been the custom of Winter Castle."
First I'd heard of it. Most guests who came to Winter Castle finished their business in the Hall of Winter and left. Since the only people permitted to reside here were those who bore the Wintergard name, there had been no established protocol for how to honor a Grand Duchess.
Which meant Alfredo was the only person who had ever done this before. I didn't know either. I was learning this for the first time.
"Ordinarily, the Grand Duchess's personal crest should have been prepared well in advance, but as it stands, we are temporarily referencing the crests of previous holders."
"I genuinely have no idea what's going on here."
"Your Grace, this matter is of considerable importance."
Alfredo was off again at a half-run. I followed at a leisurely pace in the direction he was heading. The atelier of Winter Castle, where garments were made. Inside, work on a banner was in full swing. The existing Wintergard banner was already there, so they left it aside and were busy copying something else as reference, drawing it out stroke by stroke.
"Ah, Your Grace!"
Dain, the castle's designer, leapt up from his seat. The workroom, which normally held only a handful of people, was now packed with nearly thirty, all of them bent over a single banner.
"We are urgently producing the Grand Duchess's heraldic crest. It will be finished by tonight without fail!"
The Wintergard crest had always been simple — a white field bearing the profile of a wolf, nothing more. Traditionally, a house would pass down its own storied heraldic device, but Daniela's situation was somewhat different.
She had been elevated to Grand Duchess in haste, and there was no one in the North who knew what the House Barth crest looked like. Beyond that, if the Grand Duchess of the North were to simply carry on with a southern house's crest unchanged, it could be seen as a matter of wounded pride. Not that I fully understood all the reasoning behind it.
"So you're deciding the crest on your own?"
"Not at all, Your Grace. If you have something in mind, we will incorporate it exactly as you wish!"
"In that case. Hmm."
I told Dain to place a flower at the center of the crest. A cluster of small violet blooms, gathered together. It didn't matter if it took time — that was what I wanted. Dain shook his head vigorously at the suggestion that it might take long. Declaring that it would absolutely be finished today, he immediately set to work with the others.
"It seems you had something in mind, Your Grace."
"Well. Flowers are nice."
"To pluck a southern flower and bring it north — that is very like you, Your Grace."
Alfredo had watched the whole exchange with a satisfied smile. I hadn't even noticed when he'd appeared. He was now cajoling, pressing, and encouraging the workers all at once. Their hands began to move faster. I tried to keep pace, but before long I had lost track of Alfredo entirely.
I returned to the office. I looked over the documents there. Hexon would have handled everything properly, but it was a precaution against any unforeseen mishap.
Hexon's competence needed no particular emphasis. It was almost pointless to check. Nothing caught my attention in any meaningful way. I grew bored of the documents quickly and paced around the room a few times.
The mirror. What did the man in the mirror look like?
Dressed in black. A head taller than most southerners. About average for a northerner.
I had never looked at my own face this closely before. Back when I had read the novel, there had been almost no description of the Grand Duke of the North. Only that he wore a black uniform — that was the sum of it.
But now, here, I had never examined this living version of myself so carefully.
"What are you staring at so intently?"
"My face."
"Do you always look at yourself like that?"
"No, not usually. Someone told me I looked soft for a continental, so I was wondering."
I glanced back over my shoulder. Daniela was standing there, dressed in a white gown I hadn't noticed her put on. It was more elaborate than anything she had worn in the South — more extravagant, more brilliant. No jewels adorned it, but the lace worked into the fabric and the embellishments caught the light and shimmered.
"Soft of heart, you mean? Your Grace."
"I was wondering if it showed in my face as well. I honestly can't tell."
"Hmm, well, hmm."
Daniela was struggling to get the words out. As her answer grew quieter and quieter, I felt the urge to tease her. I wanted to poke her in the side. What was there to deliberate over so seriously?
"That kind of reaction doesn't sit well with me."
"Oh, no! Your Grace."
Daniela sat down on the edge of the bed. The man in the mirror was smiling. A cleanly shaved face. Hair neatly swept back. Black hair and black eyes. Dark hair was rare even in the North. A sharp jaw. I had sometimes wondered if it was too severe, but it wasn't quite that bad.
Compared to the Crown Prince, there was a certain lack of splendor. Still, I was grateful not to have the large scars that most northerners carried. There were some on my body, but none on my face.
"The castle has gotten warmer all of a sudden."
"Has it. Should I tell them to ease up on the heating?"
"Oh, no. How could I possibly ask you to —"
"Well, everyone in Winter Castle already seems to know Daniela as the Grand Duchess."
She was still hesitating — the wounds of a defeated heroine hadn't quite healed yet, it seemed. I sat down on the edge of the bed as well and looked at her quietly. Those blue eyes moved in slow, round circles.
"Grand Duchess."
"Your Grace!"
"What is it, Daniela?"
A strange silence followed. I poked her in the side — and Daniela collapsed sideways onto the bed. The veil she had been wearing scattered loose. A peculiar atmosphere settled over the room. Daniela didn't get up; she simply lay there where she had fallen.
The noise from outside gradually faded to quiet. It had been nearly a month since we had shared this room. Though to be fair, several weeks of that should probably be subtracted — Daniela had been too ill to do anything at all.
Violet. The scent of violets. Not too sweet, and without the raw edge of wild grass. What were you thinking about?
"Y— Your Grace."
"You can call me Theodor."
"How could I possibly —"
"You called me that in the South. Do you know how pleased I was?"
I could barely remember the last time someone had called me by name. I referred to myself as the Grand Duke more often than not, and it was something I wrote in letters — almost no one ever actually spoke my name aloud.
Even in childhood, I had been called Young Duke, or simply the young lord.
"Anyone else might be different, but the Grand Duchess can call me that. Say it. To me."
"How could I be so presumptuous —"
"There's only you and me here, so it's fine. The only one who can hear is me."
"But if someone else were to overhear —"
I leaned in toward Daniela's face as she lay on the bed. I brought my face close to hers, then turned my head to the side. My ear hovered near her lips.
"Then whisper it. So no one else can hear."
"If you come just a little closer —"
Daniela's hand reached up and touched my cheek. It was a scene from a pulp novel. The moment when a woman caresses the cheek of the one she loves. Her heart begins to burn, and then what follows —
"Theo..."
Only two syllables from those red lips. The feeling that began at my ear slowly drew itself down into my chest. My heart was beating. It wasn't the kind of threat that came from riding hard or from war. But it was similar. A tremor, a shiver, or something like a strange excitement.
Yes — excitement was the right word for it.
"Theodor..."
"Alfredo — may I come in?"
Whoosh — the veil flew up. Daniela shoved my face away, and I buried it in the bed. It was the exact moment Alfredo's knock sounded and his presence arrived at the door. Daniela's neck had gone scarlet. Now that I looked, even her ears were red.
I imagined I was much the same. Though mine, of course, was a redness of a different kind.
"Come back later!"
Of all the timing. Honestly.
"No, no — Sir Alfredo! Please come in!"
The moment Daniela spoke, Alfredo hesitated outside the door, unable to enter, muttering to himself. I could hear every word of his murmuring. Whose orders was he supposed to follow, exactly.
"Oh, just come in already! Quickly!"
Of all the timing! Honestly!