Chapter 4: Hello, Little Girl

17: The Girl Visits the Young Lady

The guard had gotten used to unusual visitors, but... This one is different, he thought.

A darling young girl with long red hair done up in pigtails had come to visit the prisoner in the dungeon. He’d seen the prince, spoiled noble brats, and delivery guys, but this was the first time a girl had come. Although, if you were to line them all up, maybe she was actually the least unusual of the bunch.

“I’m sorry, young lady, but this place is off-limits to anyone without business here,” the guard started to say, thinking, I know she’s just going to force her way in. But even as he opened his mouth, she raised a hand to stop him.

“I know! Please tell Miss Rachel that Margaret Poisson is here to see her!”

“Of course she doesn’t listen...” the guard muttered.

“What? Well, get to it!”

I have one kid after another bossing me around, he thought as he accepted that he had no other choice and began descending the stairs to the dungeon.

Margaret followed with alacrity.

“Miss, you do know what it means when you ask me to go tell her something, right?”

“Yes? Now, get on with showing me the way, please!”

“Oh, for the love of... It never ends...”

When they reached the dungeon, Margaret ran to the bars and exclaimed, “Miss Rachel, it’s Margaret! Long time no see!”

Some girl he didn’t know was cheerfully greeting the prisoner first thing in the morning. That alone was enough to make the guard break into a cold sweat. He didn’t know why, but lately his prisoner was a late riser. In fact, she was still in bed right now...and the girl was trying to force her to wake up.

He’d only known the prisoner for a short time, but that ridiculous young lady probably hated it when someone disrupted her routine. Although, since she was always the one in control of things, he’d never imagined it could happen. What would happen if someone forced her to wake up? Without realizing it, the guard started to edge away from the bars.

“Mnngh?” Contrary to his fears, Rachel woke up rather quietly. Poking her head out from under the down blanket, she rubbed her eyes, then sat up and looked at the girl calling her name.

“Miss Rachel! It’s me! Margaret!”

“Hm?”

Rachel stared at her for a little while, as if in a daze, but once her eyes focused, they snapped open and she jumped out of bed.

Margaret was energetically shaking the bars as she shouted, “Jeez! You’re finally awake?! You sleepyhead!”

Rachel ran right over.

Oh, she’s her friend, the guard thought, hopeful that he wouldn’t be criticized for letting her in here. He’d only let his guard down for an instant before it happened.

“Gwogh?!”

Rachel skillfully executed a flying knee strike through the bars and into Margaret’s solar plexus.

“Haaah?!” Margaret cried as she went flying. She rolled across the floor, thrashing about in agony. Considering that she was ignoring all the things she was hitting and instead just clutching her stomach, it must have hurt really bad.

“Wh-What was...that for...?”

As Margaret gasped for breath, Rachel came back to her senses. “Oh, my apologies. You just have such an eminently knee-able belly.”

“What does that mean?!” Margaret shouted.

As Margaret gritted her teeth and finally sat up, Rachel excitedly explained, “No, I mean it, you know? That felt great! Like, you’ve got cheeks that are crying out to be slapped, and a butt that demands a good spanking. Your entire body is just screaming, ‘Abuse me!’ I’ve told myself for more than a decade that I really mustn’t lay a hand on people, but... Oh, I just couldn’t resist, and gave you the knee!”

Margaret, who was clutching her belly and convulsing violently, beckoned to the guard.

“Wh-What?” the guard asked as he hesitantly approached.

Margaret grabbed him powerfully by the lapels and said, “Hey, what is her problem?! The moment I meet her, this is how she greets me?! Is she really a noblewoman?! Even people in the slums who do that for a living can’t do it that smoothly!”

“Don’t ask me...” the guard murmured.

Had this redheaded girl grown up in the lower part of town? Her initial cheer seemed like a lie next to the harsh tone she used now.

“Is that really Rachel Ferguson, the duke’s daughter?!” Margaret questioned.

“I don’t know myself, but I’d guess so?” the guard replied.

As the guard and Margaret whispered back and forth, Rachel, who was still all hot and bothered, continued singing the girl’s praises.

“Oh, the more I look at you, the more amazed I get! A specimen like you comes around only once in a decade—no, two decades! No doubt about it. You have the talent to become a punching bag like no other!”

“What kind of talent is that?!” Margaret barked.

What a bizarre compliment.

Clinging to the bars, Rachel cutely begged Margaret, “Just ten times. Please, let me double slap you!”

“I wouldn’t let you do it once!”

What a bizarre request too.

“Fine, five then! Just five times!” Rachel bargained.

“Could you listen when I’m speaking?!”

The guard mumbled under his breath, “You’re a fine one to talk...”

During their exchange, Margaret had managed to rise to her feet, trembling like a newborn fawn.

All of a sudden, Rachel tilted her head to the side inquisitively, looking at Margaret’s face. “By the way...would I happen to have met you somewhere before?”

Now shaking with rage, Margaret waved the guard over.

“Wh-What?”

The guard hesitantly approached, and Margaret again seized him by the lapels. “What is with that woman?! How does she not know me?!”

“Uh, I don’t know you either...”

“Setting that aside... No, it’s weird setting that aside, isn’t it? She thinks this is the first time we’ve met, and she lands a body blow on me before we’ve said a word?! What’s wrong with her?!”

“I told you not to ask me...”

Rachel, meanwhile, began negotiating terms in a coaxing voice. “Hey, I’ll buy you something you want, so, please, let me punch you?”

“Don’t say that like it’s no different from, ‘Let me touch you!’ Who would let you punch them?!” Margaret countered.

“Fair enough. How about a sharp slap instead, then? That should be fine, right? I can enjoy the sensation of my open palm on your soft cheek. You really get me!”

“No, and I don’t want to! Who let this nutcase run loose all this time?” Having fully regained her footing, Margaret leveled a finger at Rachel. “I don’t know if you’ve really forgotten me, or you’re just putting on a show, but your life’s looking dark from here on out! If you’re going to admit to everything and apologize to Prince Elliott, now’s the time, you know? That’s all I came to say!”

On the other side of the bars, Rachel cocked her head to the side again. “Apologize? Should I say, ‘I’m sorry for using you as a punching bag’?”

“Somebody!” Margaret yelled. “Somebody call the guards! We’ve got a psycho in here!”

“Uh, the young lady’s already behind bars, miss,” the guard noted.

While keeping a respectful distance from the bars, Margaret shouted at Rachel, “Hmph! If that’s the attitude you’re going to take, we’re done here! You’d better not underestimate me, the woman who’ll be Prince Elliott’s queen, got it?! It’ll be too late for regrets later!”

Rachel and the guard watched as Margaret stomped out of the room. When she was out of sight, Rachel asked the guard, “So, who was she supposed to be, exactly?”

“She said she was going to be queen, so she’s probably someone involved with the prince, right?”

“I feel as though I’ve seen her somewhere before...and the name does ring a bell.”

Rachel tried to remember but apparently couldn’t. It didn’t take long for her mind to move on to something else, and she stared in the direction the redheaded girl had vanished.

“Oh, but more importantly, I want to give those cheeks a slap. She’s got me all fired up, like those times I got into fights as a little kid. But for now, His Highness will do. Do you think he’ll let me slap him?”

“The guy you’ve chosen as a replacement is a little too much of a big shot, isn’t he?” the guard ventured.

“Oh? He’s no big deal. I nearly drowned him in the pond once.”

“Nearly drowned him... The prince?!” the guard asked in shock, but he received no response. When he turned to look at Rachel, she’d returned to bed and put her sleep mask back on. “You just woke up and you’re already going back to sleep?”

“Yes. I’d like to drift off to dreamland before I forget this wonderful feeling.”

“You really enjoyed that, huh? I dunno who that girl was, but this was some bad luck for her.”

Elliott’s most beloved, the one all his hangers-on also adored, Margaret Poisson, came to visit him in his office. The moment she arrived, she sneezed.

“What’s wrong, Margaret? Are you ill?” Elliott asked.

“No, I don’t think that’s it. I just have the chills for some reason.”

“Oh, okay. What a coincidence. I do too.”

18: The Duke is Confused by the Situation

Their daughter might have been thrown in prison, but things at the Ferguson home were as busy as ever. Normally, when one of your relatives was branded a criminal, you showed restraint in everything you did, even if you were a noble. In Rachel’s case, however, it was an arbitrary condemnation from the prince, and the ducal family didn’t recognize the crime. The king hadn’t rendered his final judgment yet, so the house was actually abuzz with activity, as if they were doing it to back up their claim that the charges were false.

The eldest son, George, was on the prince’s side, but right now his father Dan was still the head of the household. No matter what his son said, he wouldn’t back down on this. And for that reason, the house was inundated daily with guests and reports.

Finding a momentary break in all of the commotion, Rachel’s maid Sofia entered the duke’s office. Two maids were with her and waiting in the hall, like on the day Rachel was imprisoned.

Sofia stepped forward, giving a bow so pretty it seemed to have come straight out of the manual. “Excuse me, Master. I am here to speak about the young mistress.”

“Oh, you have an update on Rachel?” the duke asked. He stopped signing documents and looked at his daughter’s servant. Technically, all of the female servants reported to his wife, but he got the sense that the ones assigned to his daughter were loyal exclusively to her.

Whether she knew about how conflicted the duke was about this, Sofia’s face remained impassive as she nodded and answered, “Yes.”

“Well, how is she?”

“The reports say she is doing well.”

With her own report concluded, Sofia bowed.

The duke stared at the whorl of her hair for a good ten seconds. “That’s all...?” he asked, disappointed, as he realized no more was forthcoming.

Sofia nodded seriously. “Yes, if I boil it down to the essentials.”

“No, no, no! That leaves out way too much. It doesn’t tell me anything.”

“I would think it tells you that the young mistress is doing well.”

“And that’s all! Nothing more! If you have more details, give me them.”

“Ah. Then I will have them delivered to you later.”

Sofia, who seemed unconvinced this was necessary, then turned to one of the maids behind her. “Lisa, bring the daily reports from the watchers to the master.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Meia, call in Dr. Monton, and tell him it is urgent.”

“Yes, ma’am. Which one? The master heart surgeon? Or the young specialist of psychosomatic medicine?”

“Why are you saying something so silly? The master will be reading the records of the young mistress’s activities. You should call both, obviously. Use some common sense.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Once she was finished giving orders, Sofia turned back to the duke. “Master, please read the daily reports while you are lying down in bed, and at a time when your heart rate is stable.”

As he listened to the maids talk, one thing stuck out to the duke. What does she mean, ‘common sense’?

When he returned to himself, the duke cleared his throat loudly and said, “Wait. If Rachel is doing well, then that’s fine. I can’t afford to collapse now.”

What she’d been doing, and what the results had been... With so much happening in real time, it would definitely be better for his mental state not to hear about it. With that in mind, the duke ended the conversation. It was a matter of priorities, really—and absolutely not because he wanted to put off opening up that Pandora’s box. No, really.

Clearing his throat once more in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness, the duke decided to consult his daughter’s maid about something that was concerning him.

“Ah, more importantly, I wanted to ask... His Majesty should be returning from his trip soon. When he does, we’ll have to settle things with His Highness in front of him. I need to prepare for that now, so...” He meant to follow that up by asking, “Do you have any opinion on what should be done?” but before he could, Sofia interrupted him.

“His Majesty will not be returning for some time.”

“Come again?”

How was a mere maid, who couldn’t have known the schedule for the royal inspections, able to gain that information?

As the duke stared at her, unable to comprehend what she’d just said, Sofia explained in a disinterested tone, “The young mistress was engaged to Prince Elliott at the insistence of Her Majesty, the queen. As such, I sent a report concerning the broken engagement and the events leading up to it to Their Majesties by way of some connections in the house of Count Naumann, who they will be visiting.”

“When did you...?” the duke murmured. Not only did Sofia know the schedule, she even knew the routes they would be taking. On top of that, she was able to contact them out in the field. What the hell? That was terrifying.

“I also included a note that said, ‘The cat is playing,’ so the royal entourage has stopped at the Fracker Hot Springs in the count’s domain and has not moved since. I believe they will not be returning to the capital until they can sort out the situation and decide on a policy.”

Having said all that without any expression on her face, something seemed to occur to Sofia, and she added, “Or perhaps they are waiting until the young mistress is finished blowing off steam so that they do not get caught in the crossfire.”

The duke laughed at her suggestion. It felt a little hollow, though. “N-No... Surely, no matter how far Rachel goes, the flames wouldn’t reach Their Majesties. To suggest they’d be afraid of getting caught in the crossfire... It’s absurd! Ha ha ha...”

“But it is a matter of fact that the grand duke has already...” Sofia paused. “Pardon me, I said nothing.”

“The grand duke?! What happened to the grand duke?! Are you talking about Grand Duke Vivaldi?!”

“Please, do not worry about it. It is already over.”

“I’m super worried, though?! What did Rachel do?!” the duke asked in alarm.

“Everything is all right. It was nothing major.”

“You’re sure about that?! What on earth did Rachel do?!”

“I am afraid I cannot be the one to say...”

“This isn’t sounding ‘all right’ at all, you know?!”

“Incidentally, Master...” As the duke was already falling into a state of panic, for no apparent reason, Sofia handed him a brochure. “You seem stressed. Might I suggest a hot springs trip with your wife?”

“Whose fault do you think that is? And in these circumstances?!”

“Yes. There are times you might just so happen to run into Their Majesties while on a purely coincidental hot springs trip.”

It suddenly hit the duke what Sofia was getting at. “Are you saying I should leave the scene and come up with remedial measures?”

“It is a coincidence. Mere happenstance.” With an inscrutable expression, Sofia continued, “After all, no one in the palace knows that the king has deviated from his schedule yet. If you were to leave for the same hot springs right now, no one could predict that you would happen across Their Majesties.”

Just how much does my daughter have going on under the table? It may have been a little late in coming, but a chill ran down the duke’s spine. My daughter is rapidly developing in ways I never hoped for. Somebody save me.

Sofia’s proposal was a brilliant move for saving Rachel. If the palace wasn’t aware of it, then that incompetent prince and his cronies would never even think the king’s return might be delayed. They couldn’t have planned for the duke meeting him along the road. Still, before he danced to his daughter’s tune, there was something he needed to check.

“What do you plan to do about our situation? If we’re not here, George will have full control of the house, you realize?”

Without the duke and duchess, control would naturally fall to the eldest son and heir, which was George. That being the case, Rachel wouldn’t be able to count on any support from the ducal house itself. But if she was suggesting that they take a long trip, Rachel had no doubt already accounted for that.

Sofia must have anticipated the question, because she was unfazed as she answered, “As a matter of fact, there are times when you not being around is more convenient.”

“By which you mean?”

“If you are only leaving for a short trip, it would not be unusual if you did not name a representative to act in your absence. If none of your relatives are named as representative, and the young master is still a minor, then who does management of the household fall to?”

The duke and the maid looked into each other’s eyes...then slowly swiveled to look at the butler standing by the wall. He suddenly looked like he was having a heart attack and scattered the papers he was holding all over the place, but...no matter.

“I see...” the duke mused.

“Yes. He may be a servant, but if entrusted with full authority by the master...”

“He can’t deviate from my policy, and George can’t order him around.”

“No matter what the young master says,” Sofia continued, “it can be dealt with by saying, ‘That contradicts your father’s instructions,’ or, ‘Please check with the master.’ And the young master’s limited talents will make registering a complaint with you while you are away difficult.”

“Yeah, this is how you do a bureaucratic response,” the duke said.

The master and the servants smiled darkly, all of their problems solved. But the butler, who looked ready to cry, asked, “Excuse me, but do I really have to handle him all by myself?”

“Have no fears, Jonathan. You have Sofia with you in the mansion, and if George gets out of hand, you can just tell Martha and she’ll chuck him in his room.”

The stern-faced head maid had been George’s wet nurse, and even though he was grown now, it was little trouble for her to pick him up by the scruff of the neck.

The suddenly elated duke left the butler to slump at the awful situation he found himself in and called for his wife.

“Iseria, we’re going on a hot springs trip, right now!”

“Oh, Dan! What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?! This isn’t the time!”

“Which is exactly why we’re going!”

“Huh?”

As he picked up the paperwork scattered across the floor, the butler cast a resentful look at the maid.

“If my heart gives out and I die from stress, my workers’ comp will be paid out, I hope?”

“Who can say? Please check with the master.”

19: The Girl Plans Ahead

A simple black carriage was returning to a district in the suburbs where the petty nobles’ mansions were. With the jaunty clip-clop of cloven feet, it slid through the gate of a miniature mansion and stopped in front of the little entryway.

Hearing the neighing of the horses, the lady of the house and her maid hurried out to greet them. The only daughter of the baronial house, Margaret Poisson, had returned.

The coach driver dismounted and greeted the two of them, but before he could open the door—

“I’m hoooome!”

The pretty girl with her hair in a ponytail slammed the door open and jumped to the ground, landing with legs spread wide. She then topped it off by striking a dynamic pose.

As she was whispering, “Nailed it...” to herself, the old coach driver put away the steps that the girl who “looked like a noble’s daughter so long as she didn’t talk, ha ha” couldn’t be bothered to use.

“Young mistress, you’re going to hurt yourself one of these days. Please don’t do that.”

The “young mistress” didn’t care one whit for her coachman’s scolding. She tittered, “It’s fine! I hear something-or-others and important people don’t get hurt even when they fall from high places!”

Her “profound” response consisted of two sayings she’d only vaguely remembered mashed together. It just confused the coachman, but he decided it wasn’t worth pointing out. This young lady was one of those “something-or-others,” so telling her wasn’t going to help. Besides, she had too much energy for her own good, so he had the feeling she’d manage just fine even if she did fall from a high place.

Margaret’s mother called out to her, saying, “Welcome home, Margaret.”

“I’m home, mom!”

Her mother, Baroness Anita Poisson, hugged her. She had a delicate, ephemeral beauty that left you wondering how she ever gave birth to the little bundle of energy that was her daughter.

Next, the maid, who was as ill-mannered as her young mistress, loudly called out, “Young mistress! Welcome hoooome!”

“I’m home, Bennette!”

Margaret and the maid, who was of a similar build to her, high fived each other. “Woo-hoo!” they hollered in unison. It seemed like these two could have been blood relations.

Since the barony didn’t come with a domain, the baronial house of Poisson couldn’t afford many servants on the baron’s salary. The household consisted of the four people here, plus the baron. It gave the place a homey atmosphere, and they treated the servants like family. The baron secretly prided himself on the comfortable home he’d built.

Once Margaret had been welcomed home in a way that seemed hardly proper for a noble house, she handed her bags to the maid and looked around.

“Where’s dad?” she asked, peeking behind the curtain and the sideboard. In normal baronial houses, that was not where you’d find the head of the household.

The lady of the house smiled, though she looked somewhat troubled. “Your father hasn’t returned from work yet,” she answered.

“Grrr. I wanted to tell him all about how Elliott complimented me.”

“Oh, my. Then tell me first, would you? It will be good practice for when you tell your dad, right?”

“Okay!”

With the dusk at their backs, Margaret wrapped herself around the baroness as they cheerfully went into the mansion together. The maid shut the gate behind the coachman as he took the carriage out again to go fetch the baron.

The little baronial house had a relaxed, harmonious air about it.

When Baron Poisson returned home from work, he asked the maid about his wife and daughter.

“Bennette, where are Anita and Margaret?”

The maid, who was about the same age as his daughter, took the baron’s bags and snapped off a military-style salute. “They’re in the living room, chatting and stuff.”

“And stuff...” The baron had issues with the way she showed respect and her manner of speech, but right now he cared more about seeing his wife and daughter.

When the baron poked his head into the living room, mother and daughter were in the middle of a good conversation.

“Oh, I see. So it was a bad move, begging Prince Elliott for that bracelet!” Margaret exclaimed.

“That’s right, Margaret. Don’t do anything like that again, okay? You attract enough envy just because he adores you, so people could spread nasty rumors that you’re taking advantage of his love and turning him into your personal wallet.”

Margaret nodded. “I wouldn’t want that!”

Her mother smiled. “That’s right. You need to be more clever. You have to look at it longingly, as if you can’t let it go, and make His Highness think, ‘Oh, fine, I’ll buy it,’ but even when he offers, you can’t accept right away!”

“Really?!”

“You refuse, but let it show on your face that you wanted it and you’re giving up. That will make you seem so lovable that His Highness will desperately want to give it to you as a present. You need to make men show you affection! Get them to give you things without demanding them. That’s a first-class technique.”

“I get it! I’m really learning here!”

Is it just me, or is their conversation kind of scary? the baron thought. He hesitated at the door to the living room, unable to join them for happy family time.

Baroness Anita was quick to notice. “Oh, darling. If you’d arrived home, you could have said so!”

“R-Right,” the baron stuttered.

“I got so caught up with talking to Margaret. I’m sorry for not greeting you at the door.”

“N-No, it’s not a problem.”

His wife immediately got up and started lovingly fussing over him.

“Welcome home, dad!” Margaret greeted him.

“Yeah. Welcome home to you too, Margaret.”

“Listen, listen, you’ll never guess what happened at the palace today!” Though she was already in her late teens, she wrapped herself around her father like she was a small child, telling him all about her day with a sparkle in her eyes.

“Come now, Margaret, your father is still in his outdoor clothes, you know?” the baroness said. “Save the talk for after dinner.”

“But I wanted to let him know right awaaaay.”

His wife and child started arguing over him.

Yeah. All that calculating stuff I heard them saying must have been my imagination.

“Hey now, you two. I’m famished,” the baron interjected. “Let’s hurry up and eat.”

The baron had met his wife in somewhat of an indecent place, but she had an elegance that fit among the nobility, and her daughter was so attached to him that you’d never think she was a child from his wife’s previous relationship. It was a happier family than a petty official like the baron could have ever hoped to aspire to.

What is there to doubt? This is a picture-perfect household.

Having convinced himself of that, the baron put a hand on his wife and daughter’s backs and directed them toward the dining room.

Once dinner was over, Margaret retired to her room and opened up a window to gaze into the dark of night. There were no decent streetlights in the area, so it wasn’t all that pretty, but the slight breeze felt good on her cheeks. This was the time when she was most able to relax.

As she stared into space, Margaret thought back to what happened earlier.

“I never would have taken Rachel for such a psycho...”

She’d gone down to the dungeon to encourage Prince Elliott’s ex-fiancée to admit defeat, but she’d never expected her to get violent like that. Sure, Margaret could have foreseen the verbal abuse, or perhaps even a scratch or slap, but in what world was there a well-to-do young lady who landed a flying knee strike on you before you so much as talked?

“And the inside of her head’s even more screwed up than the things she does.”

Even when they’d talked, she hadn’t been able to keep up with Rachel’s ideas. She really had no idea what Rachel was thinking.

“What is with her? I can’t understand why she’d lock herself inside the prison in the first place.”

Anyone would probably feel the same way.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Margaret had almost no familiarity with Rachel Ferguson, but she was the crown prince’s fiancée, so even the most minor of nobles like Margaret knew her face. Her impression of Rachel up until this point had been that she was like a pretty doll. Rachel stood diagonally behind Prince Elliott during ceremonies as people squealed over him, and...didn’t really do much of anything. Elliott barely spoke to her, and unless he did, she was just part of the scenery. She didn’t join him in entertaining everybody, nor did she actively go off and do her own thing.

Since getting closer to Elliott, Margaret had subtly asked about Rachel, but the prince’s understanding of her had been about the same as Margaret’s. Still, even if Rachel had minimal presence and was just part of the scenery, the fact had remained that she was officially Elliott’s fiancée, not to mention the daughter of the ducal house that stood at the apex of the nobility. There was no shortage of girls like Margaret who were after the shining prince, but if you looked at their spec sheets for lineage, history, and education, Rachel was second to none. None of the marquesses’ and counts’ daughters, or any other well-to-do young ladies who tried to use their social stature to mount an attack on Elliott, had been able to capture the target of their affections. Appealing to Elliott wasn’t enough to defeat Rachel, who outclassed them in everything.

And Margaret was the lowest kind of noble—a baron’s daughter. Surrounded by all these girls from good lineages, Margaret had started off with too large a handicap. But thanks to her downtown upbringing, she’d pushed—physically—most other girls aside and gotten Elliott’s attention.

Then, to top it off, she’d shown a spirit of consideration that those cloistered noble girls could never manage, earning her the affections of not just Elliott, but all of the rich, eligible young bachelors around him. This had set her apart from her rivals, but...that was it. If all she had was Elliott’s love, and she couldn’t upset the overwhelmingly high score Rachel had in everything else, there was no point in fighting over second place.

Well, what was to be done?

Margaret was confident Elliott loved her more than Rachel. If the prince were free to choose his partner, he would have undoubtedly chosen Margaret.

That had given her an idea.

Doesn’t Elliott just need a justifiable reason to break off his engagement with Rachel? she’d thought.

If she couldn’t rise to Rachel’s level, she could drag her down to hers.

If she couldn’t get ahead of her opponent in this race, she had to make the other girl trip.

If she could do that, she could pass Rachel while she was down and take the lead.

That had been the idea.

Margaret had tried reporting all the bullying she’d received from her rivals to Elliott as if Rachel had been the culprit. With her rough upbringing, the harassment from a bunch of well-to-do girls was malicious, but it wasn’t anything Margaret couldn’t handle. She’d put this to good use, crying about all the things they’d done to her, and a bunch of extra stuff that they hadn’t. And, wow, what an effect it had had. Elliott and his associates had all been enraged by the horrible things Margaret had suffered, and they’d shown her sympathy.

That unlovable Rachel is bullying our adorable Margaret out of jealousy.

Once that idea had set in, some started to say Rachel wasn’t suited to be Elliott’s wife. The voices that said Margaret was more suitable grew louder. Finally, they concluded that their angelic Margaret should be queen. And after a lot of thought by Elliott, George, and the others, they’d decided on publicly condemning Rachel at the party.

That was supposed to be the end of it...

“No, seriously, what is she thinking?” Margaret wondered.

Even when she thought about it with a clear head, that woman was absurd. She was supposed to be suddenly jailed, but she’d stocked up food and other supplies inside the dungeon and had shut herself up in there—a place anyone would want to get out of—and toyed with the prince.

“Besides, if she knew it was coming, why didn’t she do something to prevent it in the first place?”

Margaret, who relied more on common sense, racked her brains over it because she couldn’t understand.

“And she was acting like she seriously didn’t know my face.”

Margaret had been all over Prince Elliott for at least half a year now, so how had Rachel seen that but not bothered to learn her name or face? In truth, when Rachel wasn’t interested in something, she completely ignored it. Even if the prince she cared nothing for had another woman on the side, she didn’t feel the need to remember her face. However, not knowing this, Margaret came to a different, incorrect answer.

“What if there’s something wrong with Rachel’s head?”

There was a whole lot wrong up there outside of just Rachel’s memory, mainly with her thought processes.

Margaret bit her nails as she stared into the darkness. “Anyway, if she won’t give up on Prince Elliott, that leaves me with no place to go, damn it.”

Margaret had interpreted the way Rachel kept secretly screwing with Elliott and the others as evidence of her continued fixation on him. Margaret was dead wrong.

“No matter how I look at it, I don’t think Elliott’s affections will turn to Rachel. Hmph. Well, it’s not like I don’t understand why she can’t give him up. I mean, Prince Elliott is just so cool!”

Margaret was demonstrating some serious blindness.

“Oh, a super cool, honest-to-goodness prince is smitten with me... Wow! I just can’t get over that!”

This was Margaret, age sixteen, writhing with glee as she gushed about her crush in private.

“Hee hee, Prince Elliott’s so hot, and tall, and he’s a bit of a bad boy too. But despite that, he’s super nice to me! Oh, just imagining Prince Elliott’s sweet smile is giving me a nosebleed.”

More than his position, more than his money, Margaret wanted him for his dashing good looks.

Having disappeared into her own fantasy land, Margaret clenched her fists as she tried to get her mind back on track. “It’s fine. No matter how Rachel struggles, she can’t change what’s already in motion at this point. Prince Elliott and I are the palace’s most eligible couple! This is common sense! And I’m gonna make it a fait accompli by the time the king gets back.”

Even if the king preferred Rachel, if everyone around him were working to bring Elliott and Margaret together, His Majesty wouldn’t be able to insist on things going back to how they were. That was their goal, at least.

“If Rachel tries to recover, there’ll be nothing she can do. I mean, she’s in prison. If she wants to enact some scheme in the palace, she can’t do it when she can’t leave her cell.”

Or so Margaret thought. Why did new furniture constantly appear in Rachel’s cell if she was supposedly stuck in there, unable to move? Margaret didn’t understand what it meant that Rachel was constantly restocking, nor did she understand the problem that presented.

Unaware of the holes in her reasoning, Margaret stopped thinking, and a goofy grin spread across her face.

“Besides, Prince Elliott is so into me. No matter what Rachel does to get his attention, she’s already beaten.”

Margaret never doubted that Rachel was after Elliott. Perhaps this ability to convince herself of things so wholly was Margaret’s strength, though it was also her weakness.

“After all, Prince Elliott will never fall for her. And you know why that is?!” Looking up at the cloudy sky, Margaret let out a triumphant laugh. “Because Prince Elliott has me! There’s no room for you with the ultimate super beauty Margaret around! Okay, I’ll admit, you’ve got a pretty face, sure. But there’s no prize for second place! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Shut up! Is that the idiot daughter of the Poissons again?! Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

“Sorryyyyyy!”

The neighbor’s loud shouting had pointed out that she had not, in fact, disappeared into “her own world.” Margaret apologized, shut the window, and lowered her voice...then went back to boasting.

“Heh heh heh... I’m the one who’s going to make Prince Elliott hers! And to make it a sure thing, I’m going to make Rachel admit defeat before Prince Elliott’s dad gets home, okay?”

She’d heard Elliott was doing a variety of things to try and harass Rachel, but it didn’t seem to be going well. Could it be that because the prince wasn’t used to this sort of thing, he was holding back, so it wasn’t having enough of an effect on the impudent Rachel?

Well, in that case...

“Heh heh, it looks like it’s time for me to put the techniques I learned downtown to full use.”

Margaret wasn’t proud of it. She really wasn’t. But she’d won the war for Elliott’s heart despite growing up in a bad part of town. She felt like she knew a thing or two more about how to break a well-to-do young lady than a guy with a good upbringing like Elliott did.

“Just you wait, Rachel. I’ll get you in ways you’ll never expect!”

As Margaret burst into another high-pitched laugh, she quickly covered her mouth, looking furtively out the window.

“Hey, mom, I was just a little noisy last night, and the neighbors got mad. I didn’t wake you and dad, did I?”

“Oh, you did? Your father and I were sound asleep,” Margaret’s mother replied.

“You were that tired? You and dad both seemed so full of energy last night.”

“Ah, well... You might say it was because we were so busy. We were working on making a little brother for you last night, so we were totally exhausted when we fell asleep.”

“Huh? ‘Making’ a little brother?”

Margaret was surprisingly innocent.

20: The Duke Has an Audience with the King

The rustic yet tasteful scenery rolled past outside the window. Duke Ferguson looked out at the Fracker hot springs village as his carriage slowly made its way through a crowd of people.

“Oh, this is impressive. I should have expected as much, considering this is the biggest earner in Count Naumann’s domain.”

At first glance, the main road looked like any other country town, but there were shops lining the street and people walking everywhere. Most of them must have been staying long-term, because few carried anything to suggest they were travelers. The people walking around the carriage either looked like patrons relaxing at a health resort or tourists carrying less than you’d expect them to. Many of them were doing touristy things like window shopping or dining out.

This hot springs village was clearly a hit. The duke was impressed...but also suspicious.

“The scope of economic activity here seems rather large, but Count Naumann’s tax statements suggested it was much smaller.”

“Dan, you don’t have time for work right now, remember?” the duchess chided her workaholic husband, reminding him of where his priorities ought to be right now. The big problem for today wasn’t tax evasion, but their daughter’s broken engagement.

Guards led the carriage carrying the odd couple into an area lined with posh hotels for the upper class.

As the king was towling his hair after relaxing in an open-air bath, his chamberlain came to inform him that he had a guest.

“Your Majesty, Duke and Duchess Ferguson have arrived from the capital. They came to the hot springs to rest and recuperate, and they heard that you were also staying here.”

“Did they? I’ll be right there. See them through to the living room.”

“Yes, sire.”

The king finished changing and headed to the living room of his suite. There sat his old friends, the duke and duchess—still in their traveling clothes—awaiting him. He responded magnanimously as they rushed to their feet and bowed their heads deeply, then he sat on the sofa at the head of the table and gestured for them to be seated.

“How good of you to come, Your Grace. Oh, but this is a rented lodging, not the royal palace. No one is watching us, so, please, relax.”

“Yes, sire. If you’ll excuse it,” the duke replied.

“Indeed. I am also here to relax, so there’s no need for us to stand on ceremony. Ah, you there, chamberlain. I’d like to hear the duke’s opinion on events in the capital, and I suspect our discussion will be lengthy, so see to it that no one enters this room unbidden.”

“Understood!” said the chamberlain, who’d arrived with the tea.

The king took a sip of the delicious iced tea that such hot springs towns were famous for. The duke and duchess sat across from him, drinking their own. Then the chamberlain departed the room with a bow.

The very moment the door closed, the duke yelled, “Hey, Robert, what the hell has that little shit of yours gotten us into?!” He then began to choke the most powerful man in the land.

“Wait, wait, calm down, Dan!” the king entreated.

“He’s right, Dan!” the duchess interjected. “I know how things are, but you can’t just go strangling His Majesty when we don’t know who might walk in!”

Oh, Duchess Iseria, are you saying it would be all right if you knew for sure that no one was coming?

The king was a little concerned by the duchess’s wording, but this wasn’t the time to get off track now.

After the king and the duchess chastised him, the duke let go of the king’s neck and backed off, though he still wasn’t satisfied. “I apologize. Thanks to a certain someone’s idiot son, I find myself worn down mentally and physically as of late. That was a little rude of me.”

“You throttle your king, yet you say it was just a ‘little’ rude?”

Now free from the duke’s grasp, the king sat back down on the sofa.

“I’ve heard about the situation. Or rather, I read the report you sent me. I never thought my dolt of a son would do that. Listen, I earnestly apologize for what he did, at least.”

“Honestly,” the duke said, sighing, “that son of yours takes idiocy to new heights heretofore unseen. He’s really messed up this time!”

“Listen, I’m allowed to say it myself, but are you really going to call him an idiot in front of me, his father, the king?”

“What else can I call him? It’s the truth!”

The king smiled, though it looked strained, and took a sip from his glass as his childhood friend vented at him, his nostrils flaring.

More than twenty years ago, the king and the duke had a relationship not unlike Prince Elliott and George’s relationship now. Albeit, they were never so stupid—as far as they knew. The two of them had been playing and learning together since before they were ten years old, so it was fair to say that after such a long friendship, their relationship was as relaxed as could be.

Because of their parents’ friendship, Elliott and Rachel should have been an ideal coupling because it would have the least impact on the political world’s factional dynamics. But who could have known that one of them would discover “true love” and break the engagement of their own accord?

“Still, what are we to do?” the king wondered aloud.

“I’m thinking we could start with you and your son getting down on your hands and knees and apologizing,” the duke stated.

“I’m not interested in helping you blow off steam right now. I’m concerned that since Elliott did this so publicly, he must have shaken up high society considerably.”

As the king looked to Iseria, her brow furrowed. With a forced smile, she said, “Every middle- to low-ranking noble with a daughter is in a tizzy, thinking that they might just have a shot now. Not only did he break off his engagement, but the girl he’s chosen instead is only the daughter of a baron by marriage.”

Rachel was, without question, at the very top of the hierarchy among the young ladies in her and Elliott’s age group. Meanwhile, Margaret Poisson, whom Elliott was so taken with, was likely at the bottom in terms of bloodline and career. If the lowest of them was able to shove aside the highest-ranking lady and take the victory for herself... Well, in a certain card game, that resulted in what was called a “revolution.”

Therefore, it was only natural that the other noble young ladies would think that if such an unbelievable reversal was possible, then maybe they could pull it off too. Margaret had managed it, so of course they would think they could.

Parents who’d had no expectation of seeing their children move up in the world were now incredibly excited to have found a way for their daughters to turn it all around. They, and their children, would no doubt be making their pathetic attempts to catch Elliott’s attention at this very moment.

“I see. And as for the higher nobles?” the king asked.

“It’s just as you suspect,” the duchess replied, understanding what the king was getting at. “The prince’s unexpected idiocy has disturbed the order of things for the next generation, so they are pretty shaken up and about to start panicking.”

Iseria was not mincing words. Dan, on the other hand, didn’t even try to mask his outright insults.

“And the oversized piece of trash you call your son doesn’t understand even that much. Robert, unless you live long enough for the rule to skip a generation, the moment that moron takes the throne, the powerful nobles will revolt and there will be a mass exodus from the country.”

The fact of the matter was that the duke’s prediction had enough truth to it that it couldn’t be laughed off.

It went without saying that the nobility’s upper crust would’ve liked for their daughters to replace Rachel too. They’d always had some chance of pulling it off, so unlike the second- and third-rate nobles, who were falling over one another to try it now, they’d no doubt come up with much more realistic plans. But in the end, they’d decided that whatever benefits they might gain from their daughters becoming queen were not great enough to outweigh the losses they’d suffer from the destabilization of society.

If Elliott had moved forward with his plans in secret, keeping the details private, that would have been one thing. But, no, he’d revealed it all in front of who knows how many people, plunging high society into chaos. In exchange for the sway they had with the royal house, the upper nobility had a responsibility to support their addle-brained prince by restoring order. However, since the king was still around, he might have crushed them for getting too greedy before Elliott could take the throne. No noble who could properly analyze risk and benefit would want to join the battle at this point.

Still, while that was true for the noble houses, many of their daughters were still out there trying to seduce Elliott, the same as the lower nobles. That didn’t matter so much right now, though.

After the duke explained the situation, the king gave him a sardonic smile. “Dan, there’s a hole in your plan.”

“What might that be?”

The king thrust a finger in his childhood friend’s face. “You’re suggesting we bet on the next generation, but...there’s no guarantee Elliott’s children will be any better, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. I mean, they’ll be your grandchildren, after all,” the duke replied, nodding at the king’s self-effacing joke.

“By the way, what are young Rachel’s thoughts on the matter?” the king asked. “The covert letter you sent me suggested that she was actually happy about it.” The king produced an envelope from the letter box on the side table.

Frowning, the duke answered, “Yeah, she’s enjoying herself so much in prison that even I, her father, am a little disturbed by it. The way she predicted all this and prepared so well is scary.”

“Is it that bad? Could you give me an example?”

The duke pointed at the letter. “I didn’t send you that.”

“This wasn’t from you?”

“Right,” the duke confirmed with a slow nod. Then he explained it all as best he could.

“A dark organization Rachel commands sniffed out the brat’s conspiracy; carried a vast quantity of supplies into the palace dungeon; contacted Rachel after her imprisonment to determine their policy going forward; and investigated your travel schedule, something which I had no way of knowing. They are, at all times, keeping tabs on your current location. One of their agents delivered a letter to you at that location; arranged for you to stay here when you stopped traveling; and sent me to find some way to resolve the situation, since it was anticipated that you wouldn’t return to the capital.”

The king listened to all of this in silence.

As if just remembering, the duke added, “And, by the way, I only learned of this organization the night that Rachel was thrown into prison, and only because they casually revealed their own existence to me.” He took a sip of tea to wet his throat. “I don’t know who or where their agents are. I know that three of Rachel’s maids are involved, but if it were only the servants in my household, they wouldn’t have been able to investigate outside the capital. To be frank, I suspect that Rachel may have even more people at her disposal than the ducal house itself does.”

Once the duke finished speaking, the king, who’d pressed his hand to his forehead, stirred.

“Hey... Don’t you think that, maybe, we might be better off executing Rachel, when you consider the future?”

“As a public servant, there’s some part of that that I have to agree with, but as her father, I firmly reject it. Also, as a member of your administration, in the interest of safety, I cannot permit it.”

“In the interest of safety?”

The duke looked the king straight in the eye, fully aware that he was being disrespectful.

“Robert, think about it. There’s an organization out there that can do all this, and we don’t have a proper grasp on them, okay? What if, after Rachel died, they were to go underground and seek revenge? What could you even do?”

“And they’ve already managed to carry a large amount of supplies into the castle at least once...” The king turned the letter box over and dumped the rest of the letters onto the table. Most of them were urgent reports from the palace or government offices. “I have to envy their talent. My people in the palace have nothing on young Rachel’s subordinates. All they’ve done is report Elliott’s lunacy and ask me what to do.”

“Maybe it’s not that Rachel’s people are supremely talented, but that the courtiers are simply too unreliable?”

“That’s part of it. And every department is sending me the same reports separately. I’m going to need to reform things when I get back.”

“That can wait for now. How are we going to contain this incident? We have to hurry and stop that pea-brained prince. I mean, I won’t say you should just up and hang him, but I do think it would be for the best!”

Unlike the duke, the king remained calm, gazing silently out the window before he said, “You know what... Let’s assume we’ll discuss all that at length. Dan, for now, go drop off your things and relax. This hotel’s open-air bath is spacious and feels wonderful.”

Realizing that his friend was suddenly dodging the subject, Dan narrowed his eyes and decided to poke fun at him.

“I know you. I bet you swam in it.”

“I could never do something so rude as to not swim in such a large hot spring.”

“Setting aside our difference in opinion, please consider your position and show some restraint, Your Majesty.”

The king sank into the sofa, looking exhausted. “I know Elliott’s stupidity got us into this mess, but... Dan, I don’t think we’ll be able to come up with remedial measures so easily. The way I see it, the situation is still on the move.”

“You’re saying Rachel is going to do something?”

“I suspect as much.” The king smiled at the duke, who’d gone silent. “Besides, I don’t know how I should say this, but...Rachel knows what she’s doing. Maybe she’s already thought up a way to settle things.”

It had obviously never occurred to the king that Rachel meant to stay shut up in there for as long as possible.

“We need to take our time thinking and find the optimal solution that she’s looking for,” the king concluded.

The duke looked at him as if he wanted to say, “That sounds awfully timid.”

“By the way, Dan,” the king said casually, “It’s all well and good that you let your daughter’s servants send you here, but...did you make a reservation?”

“Huh? No... It’s my first time, and I don’t know any of the hotels. I thought I’d meet with you and then go looking.”

“I see.” The king gently laid his glass on the table. “When we arrived here, my chamberlain went to talk to the manager about reserving the most luxurious hotel in town for our personal use, but...there was already a reservation for the party of ‘an individual of significant status.’ The inn was otherwise vacant. That other reservation, it was for you.”

The three of them fell silent.

After some time, the duke mumbled, “This is why I was against Rachel marrying that stupid prince.”

“That can’t be what caused her to grow up so warped,” the king remarked.

“No...” The duke picked up the report from the pile of letters on the table. “From the way they talked, they only started operating after her engagement to that moron was a sure thing, you know?”

“Did she predict their married life would go poorly, so she wanted to be able to stay on top?”

“That’s probably it. Oh, I should have said no, even though the queen was pushing hard for the engagement. Then Rachel would have stayed no more than a crazy noblewoman.”

“I think that’s still bad enough, though. By the way, what if I’d been the one pushing for it?”

“I’d have thrown your worthless orders in the trash and then forgotten all about them.”

“Is that really something you should say in my presence?” the king asked.

The duke threw the report down on the table in front of him, casting his eyes up to the ceiling. “Or maybe I should have stood back and watched as Rachel drowned that stupid prince back then.”

“You can’t just say that in front of me, his father. Besides, if that had ended with murder, even though she was still a young child, she wouldn’t have been able to evade the death sentence.”

The duke waved his hand weakly. “I know that. It’s a joke... At least twenty percent of it.”

“If you’re eighty percent serious, we call that being serious.”

As the king and the duke both fell silent, a cheery voice spoke up.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Oh, Iseria, it’s been ages!”

The queen, wearing a bathrobe that matched the king’s, belatedly came to join them in the living room. The duke and duchess rose to greet her, and she sat down next to the king.

“No, I really am sorry about this,” she apologized.

“What was taking you?” asked the king.

“If they’re going to give us such a large bath, the only polite thing to do is go for a swim in it, right?” the queen answered unabashedly. “I set myself a goal of twenty laps, so that’s what was holding me up.”

They’re so alike, the duke and duchess both thought.

After they gave the queen a run-down of their earlier conversation, she immediately responded, “I still want Rachel as the next queen. I won’t budge on that!”

“But it’s just not possible after this. Rachel doesn’t want it either,” the duke explained.

“Well then, Duke, let me pose you a question,” the queen said, sitting up straight. “Do you think he can run the country without Rachel?”

It was such a powerful argument that both the duke and the king went silent. The duchess politely looked away.

“I’m not hearing any objections, so I want you to come up with a plan to persuade Rachel that also maintains the minimum requirement of bringing her into the royal house, even if we have to satisfy some of her demands.”

“You’re being unreasonable...” the king began to argue, but the queen was having none of it.

“Unreasonable or not, it must be done. Can you laugh off the idea of the country falling to ruin just five years after you pass away?”

Both the king and the duke clutched their heads.

“Hey...” the duke said, “this is going to take a while, right? Why don’t we take a bath?”

“It doesn’t seem like you’ll hit on a solution easily,” Iseria added. “Let’s go and get ourselves checked in, at least.”

“Iseria, this hotel’s main selling point is their aesthetic salon’s slimming massage!” the queen said excitedly.

“My, how lovely!”

The four of them rose and went to escape from reality under the pretext of enjoying the hot springs resort.

21: The Young Lady Gets to Know the Girl

When Margaret arrived at the entrance to the prison, the guard was absent and no one was watching the place.

“Mr. Guard? Mr. Guard!” she called.

He still didn’t appear.

“Huh...?”

Returning to a hallway where people were coming and going, she checked with one of the guards there and found out that because Rachel was the sole occupant of the prison, the prison guard only guarded it on a part-time basis. He was only there when he happened to come around on patrol.

“Oh, I seeee.”

Politely thanking the guard, Margaret headed back to the prison.

“Hmm, it’s not locked.” Pushing open the iron door, Margaret grinned. She couldn’t believe how well this was going. “How considerate of that stupid prison guard! Now I can harass her all I want without anyone around to stop me.”

During Margaret’s first visit the other day, Rachel had struck her in the gut when she least expected it, and Margaret had accidentally let the guard see what she was really like. She hadn’t heard any rumors about it, though, so the guard must not have gone around talking about it.

“Still, if it happens repeatedly, he might say something to Prince Elliott or Sykes when they visit the prison. It’s better that he’s not around.”

Margaret descended the stairs to the dungeon in high spirits. She was a stubborn woman. When someone got her, she made sure to get them right back.

Rachel had been up all night writing, so she’d just finished brunch consisting of potato potage, biscuits, and a fruit cocktail. She heard the footsteps of the latest guest coming down to the dungeon to help her kill some time, and she looked and saw it was Miss Punching Bag, who’d visited just the other day. Rachel had been wanting to see her again, so she was delighted.

“Oh, welcome, Miss Bag. I’ve been waiting for you to come visit again!”

“Huh?! It’s good that I’m welcome, but... Miss Bag? Who’s that?” Margaret furrowed her brow, checking behind her just in case someone else was there.

Rachel tilted her head to the side. “Huh? I mean you, of course, Miss Punching Bag.”

“Me?! And what’s with that name?!”

“Like I said, it refers to you. The one with the most punchable body in all the world, renowned as the ‘beautiful punching bag,’ Miss Punching Bag.”

“What kind of life am I leading inside that twisted head of yours?! Has living in the dungeon warped your ability to distinguish between fantasy and reality?! What does a beautiful punching bag even look like?!”

Margaret kept shouting, her face twisted with rage as she jabbed a finger toward Rachel.

“Learn my name properly! I’m Margaret Poisson, daughter of the baronial house of Poisson! The woman who’ll become queen in your place. The way you constantly bullied me made Elliott lose his affection for you! Well? Do you get it now? Do you understand the position you’re in? You can cry and scream if you like. Go on, howl like the loser you are!”

Anyone watching would have thought that Margaret was the one howling right now.

Hmm. Rachel closed her eyes and thought. After a moment, she opened them again and flashed the indignant redhead a smile.

“Now, let’s set all of those trivial details aside for the moment. Would you mind letting me punch you, just once?”

“It’s not trivial, okay?! It’s my name! And the prince’s engagement!”

As Margaret stomped her feet angrily, Rachel mulled over how to explain this. She decided to just give it to Margaret straight.

“I’m not particularly interested.”

“Well, get interested!” Margaret demanded. “This is why I hate high-born girls like you!”

“Forget all that. I’m fascinated by your soft, velvety skin, which would be satisfying to slap! And I’m very interested in your neck, which would spin really well if I landed a punch on your chin, and your belly, which would make a good sound if I gave it an uppercut!”

“Then how about learning my name, at least?!”

Blood rushing to her head, Margaret took a step closer to Rachel...and jumped to the side the very next instant. She barely made it before the lasso under her foot retreated back inside the prison.

“Tch!”

“That’s dangerous! Don’t just go setting traps like that!” Margaret yelled.

“I almost had you too. Your instincts are better than I expected.”

It seemed like a contradiction for the prisoner to be the one trying to catch another person.

Margaret, who’d tripped and fallen as she jumped aside, rose to her feet and dusted herself off. “Heh, heh heh heh... That’s right. It looks like I’d underestimated you. You were playing the role of some kind of silly sadist, but you were really trying to catch me so you could use me as a hostage, weren’t you?”

“No? I want to capture you so that I can hit you and listen to your lovely cries.”

As they each stared wordlessly at the other, a whirlwind blew past outside the ventilation window.

Margaret smiled cynically and shrugged. “You say that, but what you’re really planning is to take me hostage, then negotiate with Prince Elliott to have him release you and reinstate the engagement, right? I know it is.”

“Oh, no, I came to the prison of my own free will, and having my engagement to His Highness restored would be nothing short of a nightmare for me, so I would never ask for it. But...if I were negotiating conditions for your release, I think I would ask for custody of you.”

“Huh? What?”

As a question mark floated over Margaret’s head, Rachel pressed her hands against her cheeks and gazed at Margaret as if enraptured.

“It’s just as I said. In exchange for releasing you, I’d want you put in here with me, where I could do with you as I pleased.”

“Hold on... Your logic makes no sense,” Margaret said, struggling to understand.

Rachel sighed. “Well, considering I’ve failed to capture you, I won’t be able to make that exchange.”

“Oh, yeah! That’s right, I never got caught! Whew, I was worried!”

But just as Margaret let out a sigh of relief, she jumped and did a forward somersault, rolling across the stone floor. The lasso fell uselessly where she’d been standing.

“Tch!”

“Wh-Wh-Why you! Cut it out already!”

“Oh, right,” Rachel said, “Didn’t you have some business with me, Miss Punching Bag? I’m a busy woman, so I’m afraid I can’t spare much time for you.”

“Thanks to you, I completely forgot!” Margaret shouted. “I never had time to say it! And besides...how are you busy inside a jail cell?! Picking the lice out of your hair? Catching mice? To think the daughter of a duke would be reduced to fighting insects and mice. Ha ha ha, what a laugh! I’ve had my share of troubles with them, so it’s good to see a well-to-do girl like you get what’s coming to her!”

Margaret was of common birth and came from a poor family before her mother remarried into the baronial house, so she found the duke’s daughter’s fall from grace hilarious.

As Margaret clutched her sides, roaring with laughter, Rachel just gave her a blank look. “Um? There aren’t really any insects or mice in here, you realize?”

“Huh?”

“Or perhaps it’s simply that the insect repellent I have in here with me keeps them away.”

“You don’t get them? In a place like this?”

Rachel looked pityingly at Margaret. “Then...you do get bugs? In the Poisson household?”

“Don’t look at me like that! It was a long time ago, okay?! Not our current house! Now they only show up occasionally!” In the middle of her deranged shouting, Margaret had a sudden flash of realization. “Wait! You do remember my family name after all?! You’ve been messing with me this whole time!”

“I did just hear it,” Rachel said with a sincere smile, not apologetic in the slightest. “But, you know, it’s not out of malice. We all like to call our close friends by pet names, don’t we?”

“Listen you...”

Margaret picked up the prison guard’s chair and threw it at Rachel with all her might. Obviously, it hit the bars and fell to the ground.

Margaret gazed up to the heavens and shouted, “Nobody calls someone a punching bag without malice!!!”

“Oh, my! It’s a shame my sincerity hasn’t gotten through to you...”

“Get a doctor to take your brain out, give it a thorough wash, and fix the parts that are broken!”

“Thank you ever so much for that novel suggestion. I will take it under advisement.”

“You have no intention of fixing it at all!”

Just as she was about to snap, Margaret noticed a weight in her bag and remembered what she’d come here for.

“Oh, that’s right! Thanks to you, I nearly forgot my reason for coming here.” A smirk crossed her darling face as she laid the bag down on the ground. “Hee hee, today I’ve brought you a nice snack, since you’re suffering down here in the dungeon without a proper diet.”

Margaret put a mint sachet inside a towel that she’d pulled out of the bag, then used the towel to cover the bottom half of her face. She laughed at Rachel, her voice now muffled.

“Prince Elliott gave me some money, you see, and I went to buy fresh fruit at the marketplace. It’s very nutritious and good for your health, I hear.”

Next, Margaret put on thick gloves and produced an oddly shaped package that was tightly sealed.

“I had them pick out an especially ripe one for me. I’m sure it will do wonders for you, since you’ve been stuck underground in this dungeon, eating nothing but preserved foods.”

Margaret cut into the package with a knife, pulling out the thing inside. An intense rotting smell quickly spread throughout the room and remained as Margaret revealed a spiky yellow object.

“It’s a tropical fruit. A durian, they call it. It has a sliiightly strong odor, but that just tells you it’s ripe. Hee hee, do enjoy the fresh fruit, will you?”

Margaret set the durian down on the guard’s chair, out of Rachel’s reach.

“It has a hard husk, so have Mr. Guard split it for you. I’ll leave it here, so it doesn’t disappear before then.”

Margaret smirked beneath her mask as she looked at Rachel.

Prince Elliott is trying to make her submit. That’s why he uses lukewarm methods that don’t work. I’m just going to go all out with harassing her, whether Rachel apologizes or not. If she suffers, then good. If I just keep on hitting her without overthinking it, eventually she’ll capitulate.

Rachel looked calmly at the durian. “Wow, this takes me back. I used to see them a long time ago, on trips overseas.” She didn’t cringe in the slightest as she looked at the stinking fruit with fascination.

“The smell...doesn’t bother you?” Margaret asked.

“It smells a lot like rotting onions, doesn’t it? The locals say they like that, though.”

Margaret hadn’t counted on Rachel being accustomed to it, and she ground her teeth in vexation.

Rachel opened one of the wooden boxes in the back of the cell and dug through it, searching for something. “Let’s see. I’m sure it was around here... Found it.” Rachel returned holding a large can. “Lady Poisson, let me give you this as a token of appreciation.”

“Huh? What is it?” The can Rachel was offering her seemed to be of foreign make.

“We had this one time when I went on a trip with His Highness, and he was quite fond of it. Although, I doubt he’s ever seen it inside the can. Since I happen to have it handy, you can have it.”

“Is it something unusual?” Margaret questioned.

“You won’t see it often in this country.”

“Hmm...”

It was apparently incredibly valuable. On top of that, it wasn’t available domestically, and it was something that Prince Elliott liked.

Rachel sat the heavy can outside the bars and Margaret picked it up.

“I’ll go open it up right away!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

Margaret disappeared like the wind, leaving Rachel all alone.

“I knew I’d seen her somewhere before. So that was the girl latched onto His Highness like a suckerfish the night of the party.”

Because Rachel had no interest in Elliott and only saw their broken engagement as a means to an end, she’d never troubled herself to check who Elliott’s new partner was. Thinking about it now, that had been a careless mistake. Honestly, the key points of the story had been that Elliott was going to declare their engagement ended and that she’d then be thrown into prison, so everyone other than that buffoon of a prince had been completely inconsequential.

“Lady Margaret of the baronial house of Poisson... From the two times I’ve talked to her, I’d say she’s a man-eater who alters her attitude depending on the gender of the person she’s talking to. She has a simple side to her as well, letting her mask slip the moment she gets worked up. And given that she took a gift her target gave her seriously and brought it back with her, she’s not a particularly deep thinker.”

Rachel brought a hand to her chin, nodding. “To sum it all up, she’s a short-sighted dimwit.”

As Rachel was thinking to herself in the darkening dungeon, the light wavered and the guard came in.

“What?! Are you awake in there, Miss?! What’s that awful smell?!” he asked.

When she saw the guard, who spoke to her like a close friend, Rachel smiled a little, relieved.

“The young lady who came to visit me earlier brought a present, but it seems to have gone off...”

As the prison guard came closer, he saw that the item in question had been left on his chair. He looked really unhappy.

“This thing reeks. How did they not notice when they brought it?! Which idiot was responsible for this?”

“It was Miss Punching Bag. The one who came the other day.”

“Oh, her...”

Oddly satisfied by that explanation, the guard wrapped a rag around the rotten—or so he assumed—durian and carried it out.

Once he’d left, Rachel put on the mask she’d used while painting and looked for the largest plank of wood she could find. She used it to fan as hard as she could, trying to ventilate the room.

Rachel had received rigorous lessons in order to prepare her to become the next queen. Her poker face was second to none.

Elliott was having tea in his office with his associates when Margaret came in carrying a large can.

“Prince Elliott, I got this as a gift. Could you open it?!”

“Margaret!”

When Elliott saw the girl he loved most in all the world had come to visit him, he rose to his feet, grinning. Then he saw the odd thing she was carrying.

“Hm? What’s that?” he asked.

“She said it was something you enjoyed eating on one of your foreign trips!” Margaret replied.

“I ate it on a trip abroad? Hmm, what could it be?”

Elliott had been on several such trips, but there wasn’t anything he’d eaten that he’d liked enough to remember it.

Taking the can in hand, George tried reading the label. “Let’s see... It says soor... Stremming? Strumming? From the picture on the can, I think it’s a fish dish of some sort...” He couldn’t make heads or tails of the instructions.

Grabbing the swollen can from George, Sykes tapped on it lightly. “I’ve seen canned goods before, but I never knew some of them swelled up like this.”

None of them had any knowledge of fermentation.

“What kind of dish is it, Your Highness?” George asked.

“I haven’t the foggiest...” Elliott replied. “In fact, this is actually my first time looking at a can so closely like this. I wonder what it is?”

Sykes laughed at how perplexed they seemed. “We’ll find out when it’s open. I’ll bet my knife can cut through this lid.”

“Oh, yeah? Okay, go ahead and open it,” Elliott prompted.

Elliott, Margaret, and George watched as Sykes held the can down with his left hand and made a big swing with the knife in his right.

Suddenly, it occurred to Elliott to ask Margaret, “Who did you get it from?”

“Miss Rachel.”

“Sykes! Wai—”

Just as Elliott was shouting for him to stop, Sykes’s knife sank deep into the can.