"A work order, then."
Rosalind pressed the tip of her quill lightly against the single invitation laid on her desk. Heavy paper, edged in gold leaf. An official invitation, addressed to the Economic Advisor, to a banquet to be held at the grand ducal palace next week. The sender: Grand Duke Lucas Vernant.
"Not so much accompanying him as a summons in my own right, it seems."
Across the desk, Secretary Oswald wore a complicated expression.
"...Lady Rosalind. If I may say something, just to be safe."
"Yes?"
"This is, indeed, a work order. However—"
"However?"
"This is the first time in the history of this Grand Duchy that an Economic Advisor has been formally invited to an official soirée."
Rosalind was silent for about three seconds, then read the invitation through a second time.
"And is 'the first time' information of use for my duties?"
"...I believe it is information of very great use."
"Then I shall keep it in mind."
Oswald looked up at the ceiling. —No matter what his mistress kept in mind, she never grasped even half of what it meant. Lately, he had privately begun to think so.
The day before the soirée.
What the head maid carried into Rosalind's private chambers was a gown of deep blue.
"These are His Grace's instructions. Something befitting your position as Economic Advisor, he said."
Rosalind pinched the fabric between her fingers and knit her brows ever so slightly.
"...Isn't it rather too fine?"
"His words were 'something befitting.'"
"So I may treat it as a work uniform?"
"...Yes, well. As you please."
It was a phrase the head maid had picked up recently. As you please. Answering this mistress's obliviousness head-on only shortened one's own life.
Rosalind held the fabric to her shoulder and stood before the full-length mirror. The deep blue set off her silver hair beautifully. —A color Ritsuko Tanaka, in her past life, had never once gotten to wear.
Fine clothing supplied at company expense. Not a bad working environment at all.
Having reached that conclusion, she was satisfied.
The day of the banquet.
The moment she stepped down from the carriage, Rosalind read the air at the entrance to the great hall in two seconds.
...Ah. This is—
The gazes of young ladies hiding their mouths behind their fans. All turning toward her at once, all looking away at once. Low, muffled whispers.
—Exactly the air of a Monday morning after you forgot to pay your respects to the office queen bee's clique.
Inside Rosalind, Ritsuko Tanaka was translating on her own initiative.
"Oh my, so that's the one..."
"Driven out of her homeland, they say."
"Whatever is the Ice Grand Duke thinking..."
The voices behind the fans had been deliberately pushed out to just within earshot. Whispers meant to be heard. A tone she had heard countless times in the office kitchenette in her past life.
Rosalind kept her expression perfectly still and proceeded to the center of the great hall as the palace steward directed.
Guest list, each house's estate accounts, the family heads' factions, the social circles of daughters married off. —I'm prepared.
She had switched into work mode.
The doors at the far end of the hall opened quietly.
The moment Lucas entered, even Rosalind could tell the air had changed.
Gown hems moved all at once. A dozen-odd young ladies straightened their posture in unison, adjusted their grip on their fans, and tilted their heads to their most flattering angles. The temperature in the hall seemed to rise, ever so slightly.
...Whoa.
Ritsuko Tanaka couldn't help crying out.
It's the same as the women in Sales Section Two the day the handsome new department manager showed up for his first day...
Lucas did not pick up a single one of those gazes.
He walked straight down the center of the hall without looking at anyone, and stopped at Rosalind's side.
"Ready?"
The usual short question.
Rosalind gave a small nod.
"Indeed. The workday begins."
Lucas lowered his gaze slightly and looked at the area around Rosalind's shoulder for exactly one second. Then, without a word, he turned his eyes forward again.
The ladies' fans moved all at once a second time. A movement that meant something different from before.
Rosalind did not notice.
The standing reception, before the seating for dinner was announced.
The crowd slowly parted.
From the gap, a young lady in a deep purple gown walked toward them, alone.
Chestnut curls, blue eyes peering over the edge of her fan. Pedigree and practice showed in every step she took.
"Lady Beatrice, daughter of House Heinrich," Oswald announced in a very small voice from just behind Rosalind.
"The eldest daughter of the house whose revenue fell the most in last month's tariff revision."
—Yes, I'm well aware.
Rosalind had reread that house's financial report three times. Last month's wheat tariff revenue, down 17% year over year. Two mineral merchants withdrawn. Projected recovery: three years.
Beatrice stopped directly in front of Rosalind. She smiled at a flawless angle and lowered her fan from her lips, just slightly.
"Why, Lady Abel. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Her voice was sweet as honey, and calculated.
"I've heard so much about you. —I understand you suffered a great deal back in your homeland?"
The noise of the hall dropped a notch.
The fans of the nearby ladies shifted to an eavesdropping angle.
Rosalind slowly met Beatrice's eyes and tilted her head, ever so slightly.
—Ah, I know this one too.
Exactly the same temperature as the first words the office queen bee would offer a newcomer at a welcome party in her past life.
Rosalind lifted the corners of her mouth, just slightly, for business purposes.
"How very kind of you, Lady Heinrich."
Her voice was even and composed.
"Speaking of which—regarding last month's wheat tariff accounts for the Heinrich county. Might I consult with you on the matter, just a little?"
Beatrice's fan stopped in midair.
The noise of the hall dropped yet another notch.
Half a step behind her, Lucas quietly tilted his glass of wine.
The workday begins—and somewhere inside her, she felt Ritsuko Tanaka give a sly grin.