It’s Fine, Since We’ll Be Married Soon, Right?
While Cardin and Anette were enjoying their own little sweet time together, the people of the Grand Duchy were left puzzled.
They had witnessed a lavish carriage bearing the crest of the ducal house making its way toward the ducal castle, escorted by the knights’ tight security.
Could it be…?
Has our lord…?
The Grand Duke of Harzent—war hero, steadfast protector against the threat of magical beasts, and generous patron of public welfare—enjoyed the wholehearted support of his people.
But because the rumors about his private life were so grim, no one expected a mistress of the house anytime soon.
Now, however, the thought that something good might have happened to their lord began to spread quickly, filling the townsfolk with excitement.
Meanwhile, the gates of the ducal castle opened, and after passing through the sprawling gardens, the carriage slowed to a stop before the main keep.
The rows of servants lined up on either side stood stiff with tension, staring straight ahead.
At last, the door opened, and the master of the house, Grand Duke Harzent, stepped down from the carriage. And then—
“Your Highness, please step down carefully.”
“…!”
The gentle, courteous tone sent a shiver down spines. Before anyone could doubt their ears, a small, pale hand appeared, resting in the Grand Duke’s.
“Ah…!”
The moment they had all been waiting for—her appearance—left everyone wide-eyed.
Even those who had steeled themselves in advance found themselves letting out involuntary gasps.
And no wonder—she was so tiny and lovely that it was hard to look away.
The first to recover from his daze was the head butler, Hubert, who stepped forward and bowed deeply.
“Welcome home, my lady.”
The servants echoed him in unison, bending their waists.
Cardin gave a small nod, and Hubert turned toward Anette.
“I am Hubert, head butler of the ducal household. It is an honor to serve you, Princess.”
In truth, he was itching to call her my lady already.
But having heard in advance about her current childlike form, the word got stuck in his throat the moment he saw her in person.
He could only hope the day he could call her my lady would come soon.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Anette replied. Then she cleared her throat and addressed the still-bowing servants.
“I am Anette Hayworth. I know my appearance may be a surprise, but I hope we can get along well.”
Not too authoritative, but not too meek either—
Just the tone she had practiced in her mind during the carriage ride.
That alone seemed to leave the servants visibly moved, cheeks flushed with excitement.
Even Hubert, whose deeply lined face usually lent him a stern air, now looked touched—and Anette found herself a bit flustered.
Looks like… they really don’t dislike me.
If anything, the atmosphere was far warmer than she had feared.
No one here seemed afraid or wary of her; instead, she could sense nothing but goodwill.
Although she had recently spent time among people who treated her kindly, the memories of a lifetime of being shunned and despised were far more vivid.
Anette had steeled herself not to be hurt if the Harzent household rejected or even opposed her.
But standing here now, she felt more welcome than she ever had in the imperial palace.
Catching Cardin’s gaze—he looked as if to say, See? I told you so—she had to stifle a laugh.
He had told her she’d be fine, and he’d been right.
With her nerves easing, she finally began to take in her surroundings.
The Harzent territory, while not the northernmost point of the continent, was the Empire’s northern frontier—cool even in summer, and with long winters.
So instead of bright, colorful flowers, the gardens were filled with well-tended ornamental trees.
And beyond them rose a massive fortress of black stone.
Not as ornate as the imperial palace, but just as imposing—
Our home… where I’ll be living from now on.
The thought brought a strange warmth to her chest.
She almost laughed at herself for knowing exactly why she felt that way.
“…?”
Then she felt it—a heated gaze, almost burning.
Her finely honed senses from years of fighting magical beasts quickly located the source.
Not far away, a young girl was staring at her with fierce eyes.
When their eyes met, the girl’s lips parted slightly in surprise—but she did not look away.
On the contrary, her gaze seemed to grow even more intent.
It felt almost like a staring contest, and Anette’s expression hardened.
Hostility? Or goodwill?
She couldn’t tell. But there was a glimmer of something wild, almost unhinged, in those eyes, enough to make Anette take an involuntary step back—something she had never done, not even before magical beasts.
Noticing this, Hubert gave a discreet cough, and someone stepped into Anette’s line of sight.
“Greetings, Your Highness. I am Hilda, head lady-in-waiting to the Grand Duke’s household. I look forward to serving you.”
The middle-aged woman’s gentle manner made Anette realize that she had been waiting politely for her turn to speak—allowing Anette time to take in her first impressions of the castle.
That consideration made Anette’s chest tighten with gratitude, and she started to smile—then froze.
The burning gaze was back.
Sure enough, the girl had moved to the side and was staring at her again.
Hubert and Hilda exchanged a faint sigh.
The girl’s name was Larisa—a maid whose loyalty to the Grand Duke was second to none, acknowledged even by the head butler and head lady-in-waiting themselves.
And she was to serve as Anette’s personal maid.
Strictly chosen after a rigorous selection process, Larisa was skilled, quick-witted, and unfailingly polite… though perhaps too devoted.
The entire household had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of their future duchess—but Larisa’s anticipation was in a league of its own.
We did pick the right one, didn’t we?
…We can only hope.
Their silent exchange ended with mutual nods.
“Larisa, come here,” Hilda finally called.
Larisa dashed forward, light brown hair flying.
She stopped directly in front of Anette, leaving her bewildered.
“This is Larisa, who will be attending to Your Highness,” Hubert said, adding carefully, “Since we thought you might not bring your own lady-in-waiting, we took the liberty of selecting one for you.”
Even the daughters of lesser noble houses had personal maids, who would follow them even after marriage.
But Anette, despite being a princess, had none.
The explanation eased her earlier suspicion that these people might not know who she really was.
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
“Think nothing of it. And please, speak to us informally,” Hubert and Hilda urged.
Reluctantly agreeing, Anette turned her gaze back to Larisa.
The girl’s face was flushed red, perhaps from running, and she was breathing heavily.
Is she all right?
She almost looked like she had a heart condition.
Up close, the intense gaze that had made Anette hesitate before now seemed clearer—pure, earnest joy, far beyond mere politeness.
But for a first meeting, it was a little overwhelming.
“Hello. I look forward to working with you,” Anette said awkwardly.
Larisa shivered once, then nodded vigorously.
“Yes! Yes, my lady—no, Your Highness. It’s an honor to meet you! My name is Larisa, I’m eighteen years old this year, and I’m so happy to serve you, my lady—no, Your Highness!”
…What just happened? It felt like a storm had blown through.
Still reeling, Anette managed a polite nod.
Then—
“Ah, I remember now.”
Cardin suddenly cut in, as if recalling something.
“So you ended up winning the position of the Princess’s maid after all.”
Anette blinked at him, a little surprised—come to think of it, she had never seen the Grand Duke speak with any woman other than the Empress Dowager and the Empress.
“Yes, my lord! I came in first place in all the tournaments—bed-making, room humidity control, bath service, origami, and drawing—to earn the honor of becoming the Princess’s personal maid!”
“Your rambling is as bad as ever. Just call her ‘my lady.’ I’m getting tired just listening to you,” Cardin said casually—using the young maid as an excuse to quietly set Anette’s title as my lady.
Then he glanced at Anette, as if seeking her approval.
“Your Highness, it’s fine, since we’ll be married soon anyway, right?”