“Ekaterina!” Alexei’s expression immediately shifted as he hugged me tightly. “What happened? Who hurt you? No matter who they may be, I will never allow anyone to make you sad!”
“Brother!” I repeated, sobbing even harder.
Right at that moment, the laughter of a villainess echoed from behind me.
But I, the true villainess, was currently clinging to my brother in tears. The one who’d let out those villainous, high-pitched sounds was someone else entirely: a wolf in cat’s clothing, with fiery red-and-gold hair and sparkling eyes.
Yes, it was none other than Marina Krymov.
“Oh ho ho!” Her dreadful laughter echoed once more. “If you want to blame someone, blame yourself. It was your own shining wit and intelligence that brought about this result, Lady Ekaterina!”
“Lady Marina!” I shouted, lifting my face from my brother’s chest. “How could you so blatantly overrule every one of my wishes?! You pushed everyone to pick a play, and you even put me in charge of the scenario! Just you wait, I’ll make you play a monkey!!!”
“Oh ho ho! I shall take on this challenge without fear!”
Nikolai, who was standing next to my brother, started laughing too. He’d been worried at first, but he’d picked up that this wasn’t anything serious. He looked like a muscle-brained idiot, but he was actually quite sharp.
“That’s no challenge at all,” he said. “You’re already a monkey in real life.”
Marina dashed forward and stomped on her brother’s foot.
“Yowch!”
Marina dashed back out of his reach. “Oh my, is something the matter, brother?” she asked calmly, watching Nikolai hop on one foot. She was pretending she hadn’t moved at all, but her breathing was slightly ragged. She’d done it so ostentatiously and in plain sight that I felt like whoever pointed that out would look even stupider than she did.
Not even the five kittens could safeguard her innocence at this point. She’d need at least a couple more.
“Lady Krymov,” Alexei called out to her sternly, her ridiculousness not affecting him in the slightest. “My sister is in poor health, and I personally warned her not to overdo it during the festival. That—”
“Um, brother...” I pulled on the hem of his jacket, interrupting him. My long eyelashes quivered as I looked up. “My classmates all agreed to put on a play for the festival. I’ve been put in charge of writing the script.”
In truth, my classmates had wanted me to act (the leading role at that!) in the play, but I’d desperately fought back. If I played the leading part in the play, I’d be repeating the events of the otome game. That was the one thing I wanted to avoid at all costs!
In the end, I’d bargained with them so they’d let me write the script instead; I’d told them that I might even come up with a new song or two if they agreed. That had been the only thing I could think of to make them fold. Regardless, it felt as though I’d dug my grave with my own hands. Apparently, in this world, it was natural for the person writing the script to also cast the actors and handle the direction. I was now the de facto stage director of the play, which sounded like a lot of work.
That said, there were perks.
“Um, it did give me an idea,” I continued. “I was thinking it’d be wonderful if you could see the play I wrote and enjoy yourself a little...”
The tension left Alexei’s body. He seemed to finally realize that my argument with Marina was nothing more than an act to make him agree to let me write the play.
“But, Ekaterina—”
“Please hear me out, brother. I also want you to use your time wisely to avoid straining your health. However, you’re a third-year student, so this will be your last festival. I can’t bear the thought of you spending the entire time working for the good of our house. You may not have time to prepare anything, but I was thinking that you could take a break, just long enough to watch our play and get a sense of the festival’s atmosphere. That way, you could have a little fun and make some fond memories of your last festival to look back on in the future...”
Honestly, Alexei didn’t seem like the type to enjoy plays all that much. He didn’t really like creative works in general, including novels. The only creative writing he read was poetry—a tremendous help to his flowery language skills—but that was a bit of a special case. His enjoyment of poetry seemed to be a vestige of Vladimir’s influence. Even now, Vladimir’s shadow hadn’t left Alexei’s heart.
But Alexei was kind and compassionate, so I knew he’d come to my play anyway. Through that, he’d be a part of the festival and immerse himself in its atmosphere, if only for a bit. Either way, he’d have memories of his student days!
“I want you to enjoy yourself,” I said. “You’ve lived your whole life putting our house first. For once, I want you to forget about your duties and have fun. So, please, allow me to participate in the festival with my class.”
Alexei remained silent for a few moments before he let out a deep sigh. “You’re doing this for my sake? Your kindness is more ardent than fire and could melt anything away. Even your schemes are kind.”
“Does that mean you approve?” I asked excitedly.
Alexei smiled gently. “I swore to make all of your wishes come true, my queen. But still, you must promise me to put your health first and not overdo it.”
“Thank you!” I beamed.
Marina let out an excited squeal.
“Just to confirm, Ekaterina, you planned your argument with Lady Krymov for me to hear, didn’t you?” Alexei asked.
“I really wanted you to agree, so...” I mumbled in embarrassment.
After I’d been assigned my job for the festival, I’d started worrying about how to get Alexei to allow it. Marina had been the one to suggest this little act. Flora, the ever-pure heroine, had told me I didn’t need to do any of that and Alexei would surely agree if I just asked, but I’d still ended up following Marina’s suggestion.
Speaking of Flora, she’d been watching this entire mess with an awkward smile from the start.
I knew Alexei treasured me very much, so I wouldn’t have allowed most people to play the part of the villain making me cry, lest they earn his ire. But Marina was a Krymov, and Alexei felt like he had a debt to her family because of what had happened to Sergei’s beloved horse, Zephyros. I trusted he’d never get mad at her. However, my calculations had been a little off the mark.
To Alexei, who’d always been kept at a distance by others, even a childish argument like ours must have felt important. He was a serious boy—I loved that about him—but he could stand to relax a little sometimes.
Alexei sighed. “I’ll always lend you an ear, Ekaterina. Next time you want to ask me something, you can just talk to me. You don’t need to do a bit.”
A “bit”?!
“B-Brother, did you just call it a bit?!”
“Sorry, did I hurt your feelings?”
“No! But I never thought I’d hear you use that word—let alone in the perfect context! I only learned it from Lady Marina earlier. You’re amazing, brother!”
In fact, I’d learned that word in the language of the empire just moments prior. It definitely wasn’t the sort of casual slang the lady of a ducal house ought to use. I was afraid that the more slang I learned in the language of the empire, the more inappropriate my speech might become if I wasn’t careful.
Alexei’s eyes narrowed, then he chuckled as though I’d said something incredibly funny.
“What an innocent girl you are, getting so excited over a single word. You often surprise me with your wisdom, but this part of you is adorably childish. I’m glad to see you smile.”
I’m sorry, brother, I used to be almost thirty...
Next to us, Nikolai was grinding his knuckles into the top of Marina’s head and admonishing her for putting me up to this while she fumed.