* * *

“Let’s not waste time when both of us are busy. Just answer one question. Have you ever made an appearance at any of the events hosted in the capital?”

As far as I knew, the answer was no, but I needed to confirm it.

If that face had been introduced to the nobles of the capital, there’s no way Berta would have been able to leave him out of marriage talks.

After all, although he was a northern noble similar to a frontier duke in appearance, Hernan’s status as the leader of an autonomous duchy within the empire made him highly desirable.

The position of a ruling house over a duchy differs vastly from being just another noble family within the empire.

While the title of grand duke may not signify a king, it does grant authority and status nearly equivalent to one.

Even the five ducal houses closest to the imperial family, who might sneer at the barren, freezing lands Hernan governs, would show deference in his presence.

The rigid class structure of this world was an absolute, no matter how tedious it seemed from a modern perspective.

As if being a young ruler vulnerable to the schemes of cunning elders wasn’t enough, Hernan’s striking looks were of the sort that would compel anyone—whether they found him to their taste or not—to covet him.

The moment his face became known in the capital, every family from the wealthiest aristocrats to the pettiest opportunists would scramble to make him their son-in-law, leaving the House of Yudenet with nothing but their proverbial bones picked clean.

So while I could reasonably predict the answer, it was still a necessary step in setting the groundwork for the future.

I tilted my head slightly, signaling him to answer, but Hernan, his lips briefly curving into a smile, seemed to sense the foreboding tone of my question and asked with a stiffened expression.

“May I first ask why you’re inquiring about this?”

Oh, so you’re trying to weasel out of this, are you?

I’d noticed hints of this before—when we hired a portrait artist and again when we hosted guests.

Hernan Velon Yudenet clearly disliked public engagements.

Not that I’m particularly fond of them myself.

Even as someone considered outgoing and socially active, I only attend such events because they serve as a means to an end, helping me maintain connections and manage my standing.

For Hernan, however, it’s clear his distaste runs much deeper.

Still, the time had come to introduce him to society and solidify his position as a grand duke.

“Regardless of your answer, what I have to say won’t change.”

Blocking his escape route, I added this firmly, and Hernan, sensing the tightening net, pretended to suddenly recall urgent work.

“Oh, something important just came to mind. I’ll have someone check on it later—”

Did he think I’d fall for that?

I immediately rose from my seat, grabbing his wrist as he tried to slink away.

“No. Let’s settle this now. Do you have any invitations you’ve received recently? Bring them all to me.”

The capital, teeming with idle nobles in search of entertainment, holds countless events every week, from trivial charity parties to grand celebrations.

Now that summer had given way to a crisp autumn—the prime season for social gatherings—there was no shortage of excuses to throw a party.

Invitations must have poured in over the past week alone, and I intended to select the grandest one as Hernan’s debut into the social scene.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Feigning ignorance, Hernan’s words were empty as I raised my palm and gestured.

“Should I go ask your head steward myself? I’ll make sure to discipline him for failing to report such important matters.”

The steward, while no elderly man, was old enough to be Hernan’s father and would hardly appreciate me accusing him of negligence.

Not that I’d enjoy it either, but if Hernan continued to feign ignorance, I had no choice but to up the stakes.

“Ha…”

As I rounded the desk, making my intent to follow through clear, Hernan grabbed my wrist in turn, his grip firm.

“Is this truly necessary?”

Feigning innocence, I answered.

“Have I ever done anything unnecessary?”

I hadn’t.

Staring me down with a face full of unspoken protests, Hernan seemed ready to argue but ultimately relented with a sigh.

“Very well. I’ll have a servant fetch them immediately. Hawthorn.”

At Hernan’s call, Hawthorn—who’d been quietly observing with an increasingly pale face—stepped forward, replying hurriedly.

“Yes, right away, sir!”

Hawthorn fled the room as if escaping an impending disaster, leaving Hernan and me alone.

Sighing in relief, I muttered to myself.

Honestly. If you were going to agree in the end, why throw a tantrum first?

Absentmindedly, I reached out to brush a stray strand of his hair back but froze midway, realizing the absurdity of what I was doing.

My hand, which had hovered near his head, dropped back down, and Hernan tilted his head slightly, his eyes questioning my hesitation.

“…?”

The moment those clear eyes met mine directly without avoiding my gaze as before, my chest tightened without warning.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go… Forcing myself to cough awkwardly, I took a step back.

“Hem, hem. In any case, it’s fine. Since I know the families holding real power in the capital better than anyone, I’ll select a few suitable options and consult you about them.”

As if to dispel the awkward tension from just moments ago as a mere misunderstanding, I took a small step backward.

Hernan nodded as though he understood, albeit reluctantly.

“Please choose dates that aren’t too tight so I can prepare without complications.”

Hearing his weary tone, which sounded almost like a complaint, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Your Grace.”

When I folded my arms and addressed Hernan firmly, he looked down at me, his expression asking if I had more to say.

“Yes, I’m listening.”

It was as if he thought attending a party was akin to a casual outing—just throw on any formal attire, show his face briefly, and leave.

But attending a social gathering wasn’t all that different from a soldier going to war.

A warrior wouldn’t show up to the battlefield unarmed, expecting to throw a few punches and be done.

Likewise, the social events of the elite were battlegrounds for the politically savvy.

From observing basic etiquette to preparing for the irritating details that might make one wonder why anyone bothered, there was an endless list of things to consider.

That’s why debutante events existed in the first place—to prevent newcomers from being torn apart and humiliated.

They provided a platform where veterans could assist and shield fledgling participants.

‘Of course, with Hernan’s level of power and looks, no one would dare openly humiliate him.’

However, considering the territorial behavior of capital nobles and their tendency to look down on northern aristocrats, there would be plenty of people eager to take advantage of him.

Identifying those who could genuinely help and those better left alone required a thorough understanding of their backgrounds.

And as for Hernan…

‘He wouldn’t have a clue.’

Even if he could pick up on someone’s unpleasant attitude, he likely wouldn’t know what family they belonged to or why it mattered.

And even if someone rubbed him the wrong way, he’d still need to manage them diplomatically enough to avoid creating unnecessary enemies.

I glanced back up at Hernan.

“…”

Sometimes he could be annoyingly smug, but his still-youthful features seemed to ask, Do you really expect that from me?

Just like during Duchess Velesa’s recent visit, his best option would probably be to smile genially while avoiding deeper interactions.

Busy as I was, I couldn’t prepare things haphazardly either.

“Do you even know what you’ll need to prepare?”

Tilting my chin upward, I asked.

Hernan glanced down in thought before answering.

“Formal attire and a carriage?”

Of course.

I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead and said, “We’ll start intensive training immediately.”

* * *