AWLITEB Chapter 12

Silence descended like a curtain falling.

The sisters looked at each other. Then, simultaneously, they burst into laughter.

"My goodness, Rosalie. Your sense of humor has improved since we last met."

Violet even clapped her hands in mock admiration.

"Really. Rosalie, that's the funniest thing I've heard in ages."

Bess added her own commentary, giggling as she wiped away imaginary tears of mirth.

"Rosalie."

Martha's voice went heavy as lead, signaling for her daughter to stop. But Rosalie had already crossed the river with no way back.

"Sorry to disappoint you. But it's not a joke."

Rosalie pulled out the necklace from around her neck with a gesture of supreme confidence.

The blue diamond necklace that had been hidden beneath her dress revealed itself to the room.

The sisters' laughter cut off like someone had slit their throats.

Rosalie's shoulders rose with triumphant satisfaction.

"Actually, I was planning to keep quiet until the marriage announcement, but I'm so grateful for your concern that I wanted to tell you."

Rosalie held the sisters' hands with a smile of practiced nobility.

"I'm telling you this as a special favor, so don't go spreading it around. You'll keep this between us, won't you?"

"...Of course. Naturally."

"Of course, Rosalie."

The sisters forced smiles that looked like they'd been carved with knives.

Rosalie savored her victory like fine wine. The sisters soon made excuses about forgetting a meal with their mother and fled the salon.

Their retreat looked very much like running.

"Rosalie. What on earth were you thinking?! How could you be so reckless?"

The moment the sisters disappeared, Martha turned on her daughter with fury sharp enough to draw blood.

But Rosalie's face showed no trace of regret.

"It had to be done eventually. They needed to learn who they were speaking to, didn't they?"

"That was something you could have done after the imperial ball."

"I was too angry to hold it in. What was I supposed to do?"

"What if rumors start spreading? They're notorious gossips."

"So what if rumors spread? It's the truth anyway, Mother."

"Never do this again. There are always variables."

Martha was speaking seriously when she caught sight of Evelyn, who'd been quietly holding her breath in a corner of the room.

Martha swallowed an internal sigh and produced a smile.

"Oh dear. We've accidentally revealed a secret. Evelyn, I don't need to tell you what I'm about to say, do I?"

At Martha's words, Evelyn nodded and hurried over with quick steps. She looked oddly excited.

"Is Miss Rosalie really going to become the Grand Duchess soon?"

"Yes. You'll keep the secret, won't you, Evelyn? His Grace the Grand Duke instructed us to stay silent until the marriage announcement."

"Of course, Miss. Then... I can tell you about the person in the private room."

Evelyn's words were unexpected.

"What do you mean?"

At Rosalie's question, Evelyn answered quickly.

"The person in the private room. It's actually Grand Duke Genos Perdian. He came to look at dresses."

"What? Really?"

Rosalie's face flushed crimson as she bounced on her toes.

"Then I should go greet him right—"

"No, Rosalie."

Martha caught her eager daughter by the arm.

"Rosalie. What kind of dress do you want to wear to the imperial ball?"

"Obviously something elegant but refined. Full skirts are in fashion now, but I don't want to just follow trends mindlessly. I want the fabric to hug my body until the waist and hips, then gradually flare out below. Like an upside-down morning glory. The sleeve edges should have ornate blue beading to complement the necklace. The color should be a calm beige to balance the elaborate design."

Rosalie poured out the description without pause for breath.

She'd asked Evelyn to bring dresses earlier, but the design for the imperial ball had long been mapped in her mind with cartographic precision.

Martha looked at her daughter with pride before speaking with aristocratic hauteur.

"Evelyn, convey this to His Grace the Grand Duke. But don't say it came from Rosalie."

Evelyn immediately understood what Martha wanted.

She wanted the rumor spread that the Grand Duke had personally ordered a dress with such intricate specifications.

Then everyone would know the Grand Duke had selected even Rosalie's dress with meticulous care, elevating Rosalie's status even higher.

Evelyn usually kept her mouth shut tighter than a miser's purse, but for a rumor this innocent between lovers? She could spread that gladly. It was an opportunity to score points with a wealthy noblewoman.

"Yes, don't worry, Madam."

Evelyn smiled reassuringly and walked toward the corridor leading to the private room.

"Mother, you're brilliant. When people hear about such detailed custom specifications, they'll die of envy."

"It's thoughtful of him to come choose a dress personally, though a man's eye can hardly select properly."

"I'm already so excited, Mother. My heart is racing like this already."

Rosalie practically danced with delight, bouncing on her feet.

Martha brought her index finger to her lips—shh—and smiled with majestic satisfaction.

"So you placed such a detailed order and paid that outrageous price?"

At the dinner table that evening, Isabella laughed incredulously.

"She kept insisting it would create an elegant yet refined feeling."

"I didn't know Your Grace was so easily swayed by a merchant's silver tongue. I thought you were more the type to cut out tongues for honeyed lies."

"That woman would have become a general through rhetoric alone if she hadn't become a salon owner."

"Hehe."

Isabella couldn't contain her laughter. She set down her fork entirely.

"Well, I was there to buy a dress anyway."

"Still, I can't imagine Your Grace falling for a merchant's pitch and paying in a daze."

"If you're curious, ask Paile. Though Paile was also completely entranced by that woman's words."

"Pfft—"

Isabella wiped tears from the corners of her eyes, laughing like she was crying.

Watching Isabella's face crumple like a wrung-out dishcloth, the Grand Duke asked seriously:

"Do you always laugh so recklessly?"

"Excuse me?"

Isabella clutched her aching stomach from laughing too hard and echoed him.

"I asked if you always laugh so freely and recklessly."

"Was I being reckless?"

"Yours is the most recklessly carefree laugher I've ever seen."

Genos spoke matter-of-factly and took a spoonful of beef soup.

"That's because everyone watches their words and actions around Your Grace."

"True enough. That makes sense."

"Should I be more careful from now on?"

"No, don't bother. I'm the one who told you to act more freely. Just don't laugh like that in front of other people."

"Actually, I didn't know there was so much to laugh about in the world. Since leaving the White family, even falling leaves make me laugh."

"That's fortunate. Laugh while you can. You don't have much time left before you'll be fighting for your life."

The words could have been warning or encouragement—impossible to tell which.

Isabella swallowed dryly, trying not to let it show, and continued eating.

"Once we announce the marriage, we'll have the foundation to move together. Until then, we need to do what we can."

"What can we do?"

"Plot together. A strategy to cleanly eliminate the Emperor, Crown Prince, and Second Prince while winning the hearts of the people."

Genos already felt the weight of exhaustion settling on him. He took a sip of wine.

"What about the Princess?"

The Princess had been sent to study in a neighboring country before she'd even turned five.

Genos poured more wine into his empty glass, his shoulders dropping slightly.

"Who knows. If I can win her over, I will. If not, she'll have to die."

"The Princess—your niece, I mean. Do you remember her face?"

"Not at all. And I hope I never have to. It would be best if she hears about the bloodbath in the imperial palace and never returns to the empire. I have no taste for killing women."

Genos muttered quietly, grinding his molars. Even the thought seemed to displease him.

"I'll also need to tour the Grand Duchy territories scattered across the empire and shore up public sentiment I've neglected for too long. During that time, Isabella, you'll need to train to control the witch's power."

"Training? Will you assign me a mage?"

"I haven't even told Paile you're a witch. I can't bring in some random mage."

"But don't I need a teacher?"

"You have me."

Genos stated it as if it were obvious.

His nonchalant attitude made Isabella blink.

"You have me, but you wanted to learn from someone else? I'm disappointed."

"Um... well..."

Despite Genos's playful tone, Isabella couldn't smile at all.

Remembering the so-called "lesson" Genos had conducted on Tanje Street—how utterly exhausting it had been—her body already felt heavier.

"After it was discovered I was born with decent magical ability, I learned magic from an excellent teacher the imperial palace assigned me. He's one of the few people in the empire with knowledge about witches. Who could be more qualified to teach you than me?"

"..."

"What? Afraid I'll accidentally kill you?"

"...Even if not death, the possibility of serious injury or permanent disability seems rather high."

"Am I insane? Would I destroy a witch born once in a hundred years like that?"

"But last time on Tanje Street, you just watched while I faced mortal danger."

"I would have stepped in if it got dangerous."

"..."

"You handled it so well on your own that I didn't have an opening to interfere."

Genos smiled lazily and placed a piece of meat on Isabella's still half-full plate.

"Finish eating and get up."

Genos stood with his own empty plate.

"Oh. Lessons start tonight."

"What time—"

Isabella started to ask, but Genos didn't listen. He simply left the dining room.

"Surely he's not bringing another murderous knight, right?"

Isabella clasped her hands together, genuinely hoping that wouldn't happen.

If she was half-insane, Genos was eighty percent mad.

At least, that's how it looked to Isabella.

"What the hell, when is he even coming?"

The moon had already climbed to its zenith.

Isabella sat perched on the edge of the bed, forcing her drowsy eyes to stay open, but her already weak stamina couldn't handle it.

Eventually, Isabella's head drooped forward in drowsy nods until she finally slid sideways onto the bed. Thump. Deep sleep claimed her almost instantly.

Dawn deepened over Isabella's collapsed form.

"Mmm..."

Isabella's brow furrowed as she made a sound of discomfort. Something felt wrong.

Her breathing seemed constricted, her chest tight and heavy.

Isabella tossed and turned in her sleep, trying to find a more comfortable position, but her body wouldn't move.

"What... the..."

Isabella mumbled in a voice thick with sleep.

And when she opened her drowsy eyes, not yet fully awake—

She found herself staring directly into Genos's face, inches away.

"I've never seen anyone so oblivious in my entire life."

"What are... AHHH!"

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and her brain fully woke from sleep at the same moment, sending a scream flying from her mouth.

Isabella tried to jolt upright, but Genos was sitting on top of her, pressing down on her chest. She couldn't budge.

"Do you know how long I've been sitting on you? I nearly died of boredom."

"Th-then why d-didn't you w-wake me..."

"Then I couldn't have startled you like this."

"Why... would you w-want to startle me..."

Isabella's lips still stumbled over the words, her heart not yet calmed.

Genos wrapped his free hand gently around Isabella's throat.

Her rapidly pounding heartbeat—thud-thud-thud—pulsed against his palm.

"Push me away before your heart settles down."

"Wh-what?"

"I said push me away."

"But... you know. If magic bursts out..."

"So control it well enough that my body doesn't end up with holes in it."

Genos smiled lazily.

"If Your Grace dies here, I'm finished. I won't even get my revenge on the White family. I'll be executed as the murderer who killed the Grand Duke."

"Yes. That selfish mindset. Use that desperation—not worry that I'll die, but fear that you'll become a murderer. Push me away with that urgency. To do that, you'll need to use strength, seduction, or just enough magic that I won't die."

"Even so, you can't—"

"Now. Are you going to keep stalling?"

"...Your Grace."

"If I were an assassin, you'd already be dead twice over. Stop wasting time."

Genos pressed harder on Isabella's chest. Her airway constricted completely.

Isabella closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate.

She recalled the sensation from Tanje Street—when she'd gripped the murderous knight's wrist lightly and tossed him around like a ragdoll.

That moment when her muscles had expanded, power surging through her, letting her handle a grown man like a child.

Before she ran completely out of oxygen, Isabella grabbed Genos's wrist where it pressed against her.

Veins rose on the back of Isabella's hand.

Genos could feel her strength gradually increasing. But it wasn't nearly enough to throw him off.

"Ugh!"

Isabella made a strangled sound.

The pressure Genos exerted kept increasing. He wasn't even using his full strength.

"Isabella."

"Ngh..."

"Having a witch's power means nothing if you can't use it properly when your life is in danger. What's the point?"

"Hnn..."

"Use your power. If you're a battle mare with no utility, I won't keep you either. Do you want to go back to the White family and die?"

At the moment Genos's blade-sharp voice pierced Isabella's ears—

Isabella's eyes snapped wide open.

Power of an entirely different dimension flooded into her hand, slowly forcing Genos's grip away from her chest.

But Genos stared directly at her and resisted.

Blocked by Genos's strength, the witch's power couldn't grow further. It stalled in place.

Just as her vision began to blur, consciousness approaching the edge of blackout, crisis washed over Isabella's body.

A rich floral scent exploded from her like fireworks bursting.