Was this the answer Count Sofeil wanted? I suddenly felt my throat dry up. I want to drink some cool banana juice with crushed ice.
“Hmm, that’s a fairly neutral statement. But it’s also wise.”
By saying wise, Count Sofeil meant that I had answered well enough to avoid controversy. It also implied that my answer was exactly what she was looking for. I straightened my posture, staring at the count.
“In the coming future, during the reign of Her Highness Dioles, women will be able to choose the future they want for themselves. But for that to happen, not only the imperial family’s way of thinking is important; we must change ours too.”
“That’s an impressive speech.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
The end of the interview. Count Sofeil finally had something resembling a smile on her lips.
“Then I will publish the interview as is. I won’t leave out even a single detail.”
“Yes, and when will the magazine be published?”
“Tomorrow, which is why I rushed the interview request today.”
What? Did I hear that right? Did she just say “tomorrow”? I resisted the urge to pick my ears for a moment and asked calmly.
“Where are you going to get the cover?”
“Oh, we already got it. I contacted someone who claimed to be the head of the future archduchess’s fan club, and she gave it to me right away.”
“… I see… it must be Miss Narnia.”
Hahaha, should I say she’s admirable, or should I scold her for not respecting my rights to my own pictures? I stood up and held out my hand to shake Count Sofeil’s.
“You’ll send me a copy tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Alright. Take care on your way back.”
I was curious what kind of magazine it would be. Watching Count Sofeil’s back as she left, I wondered about what would happen tomorrow.
‘Well, nothing much, I guess.’
Roar! Cat, who had been complaining since yesterday that it wanted to go hunting, roared at the top of its voice.
For some reason, my heart pounded.
* * *
It is the day the special issue of the monthly <Terran Ladies> featuring a portrait of Titania Oberon was published.
A loud uproar arose within several aristocratic families in the capital. However, although the names of the families were different, they had something in common. There are mainly patriarchal families with strong conservative tendencies. They were all also forcing their daughters into arranged marriages.
* * *
Slap. A beautiful woman stood quietly even after being slapped.
A middle-aged duke, suppressing his anger, wiped his hand with a silk handkerchief.
It’s a scene she’s seen since she was a kid, so it’s nothing new anymore. But today was a little different than usual.
Servants and maids were kneeling like dead men around the two people who had Crisiona’s blood. Some were even trembling with their heads pressed to the marble floor. This was not the kind of humiliation the duke’s daughter should endure. To be slapped in the face like this in public and in front of the servants.
Duke Crisiona. He used to call her separately and slap her in a somewhat private space, but today was different. The Duke gritted his teeth quietly as he publicly shamed his daughter.
“Have an interview tomorrow.”
“What kind of interview are you referring to?”
“Say that marriage is the greatest happiness a woman can have and that she must obey her husband and devote herself to her family. It is the duty of a wife to serve her husband.”
Suddenly, a giggle escaped Peridot’s lips, a sound so unlikely that it drew the Duke of Crisiona’s eyebrows together.
“Youre laughing? You think your father’s words are funny now? What do you think you’ve done right!”
The Duke’s bellowing caused several of the maids to flinch. A daughter was only worth that much to this man.
The reason she was fed and clothed with precious items was to show her off to the world.
The reason why all kinds of jewels and valuable things are given to her is so as not to tarnish the family’s honor.
The reason he allowed her to do plant research and even give her a space in the imperial palace was because this would give the perception that the duke’s family was different from other nobles. None of it was for his daughter’s sake.
Peridot quietly stared at the magazine trampled on the floor and the portrait of that wench on the cover. While she was struggling so hard, the obnoxious wench was smiling brighter than anything else in the world. Peridot couldn’t tolerate the difference.
‘The roots have spread, and now I just need to wait for the core to fuse back into the body.’
The man-eating plant, Cutie. This was a plant she had cared for as a child, from germination to rooting. It grows in size indefinitely, depending on how much affection you give it.
What was surprising was that although it was a plant, it was like a monster, and it wouldn’t die even if you removed its ‘core’ from its body. The core was like the brain in a human, and depending on how well it communicates with its owner, it can move its stems or roots to carry out commands.
Of course, there has never been a plant as large and deep-rooted as Cutie. If people knew about the gigantic, tangled roots embedded beneath the mansion, how would they react? What if they found out that, as long as the core doesn’t die, it can take root anywhere anew?
‘The time remaining for the core to move back properly to the body.. … .’
Watching her father’s back as he stomped out, Peridot slowly bent down. A magazine was picked up between her white fingers. This was the reason her father, filled with rage, summoned her and acted out so violently today.
‘Why would the princess be so eager to spare a wench like this’
She couldn’t understand. Straightening her back gracefully, Peridot narrowed her eyes and picked out four people.
“You, and you. Also the two behind you. Follow me to the greenhouse.”
Cutie needed to get bigger. All it needed was food.
* * *
“This is not going to work.”
Lacius put down his quill with a thud. Those who were sorting through the enormous amount of documents around his desk flinched, and their shoulders trembled.
What on earth doesn’t work!
They looked at each other with the same expression.
Politics, economics, and law. The aides, experts in all three fields, were now on the verge of losing their breath. They have known before that the archduke worked at an insane pace, but these days it was even worse. Archduke Schweiden, who returned from the desert, had been acting like a man with a grudge against the documents.
So what does he mean by it won’t work? Surely he doesn’t mean to increase the pace even more.
“At this rate, it’s impossible.”
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