5. Negotiations Fail When You Don’t Understand The Other Party (part 4)
“Your Majesty.”
When Duke Martinez called, Nell looked up from writing something in a notebook.
“Seeing Your Majesty’s face makes me feel even more hopeless than I already was.”
His aide had made such a pathetic display to barely keep the lady here, yet he was so carefree.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Your Majesty’s doomed love.”
“Duke, His Majesty’s love isn’t doomed yet.”
Martinez laughed.
“Well, the proposal failed.”
“I promised Marcella I wouldn’t propose anymore.”
“That’s fortunate.”
“Is it fortunate?”
“Do you know what irony is, Your Majesty?”
“Yes. You were being sarcastic.”
Nell realized this fact but didn’t get angry or hold Martinez accountable. He simply nodded and turned his attention back to his notebook.
He’d been thoroughly mocked, realized he’d been mocked, yet was completely unbothered. Martinez found this deeply unsatisfying.
He had no intention of arguing that Nell Hairi wasn’t strong.
For someone with such power, being somewhat impassive might be better than getting angry too easily. Especially since he was emperor.
But still, Martinez was displeased. Calling him an emotionless magical weapon as a joke was absolutely not a joke.
“You said proposals were forbidden but confessions weren’t?”
Duke Martinez wanted to see Nell Hairi fall into an emotional whirlwind at least once.
He asked mockingly, but Nell just blinked and looked back at Martinez with a peaceful expression.
“Yes. I agreed to do it a hundred times.”
“…A hundred times?”
“Marcella said if I confessed a hundred times, she’d accept it as sincere rather than joking.”
Martinez’s brow furrowed.
He looked at Arthur Digory. Arthur looked flustered as he stared at Nell, then smiled brightly when he felt Martinez’s gaze, as if nothing had happened.
“What is this about, Arthur Digory?”
“His Majesty agreed to confess his passionate feelings to Lady Marcella a hundred times.”
Of course, she’d said she’d consider it sincere after a hundred times, not that she’d accept his feelings.
Weren’t those two very different things? Arthur wondered anxiously if His Majesty was misunderstanding something, but couldn’t check in front of Martinez, so he acted.
“…To make His Majesty confess a hundred times—that lady is certainly unusual.”
Martinez laughed in disbelief.
“So how will you confess?”
Surely someone who confidently promised a hundred confessions had some grand plan.
Martinez prepared to listen as he waited for Nell’s mouth to open. But Nell kept his mouth shut and tilted his head.
“Why do you look like you don’t know?”
“How to confess?”
“Yes. What you’ll say, how you’ll do it to confess. I expected some plan. So why that clueless expression, Your Majesty? Don’t you understand my question?”
“I understood your question. I just don’t know how to answer. Wouldn’t saying I like her work?”
“You’ll just go and say you like her? What about atmosphere, situation, setting… Ah.”
He hadn’t thought about any of it. Seeing Nell stare blankly at him, Martinez let out a hollow laugh.
“How could someone who’s never done such things easily manage it? The more sincere you are, the harder confession becomes.”
When Arthur defended Nell while speaking to Martinez, Martinez snorted.
“You talk as if you’ve been sincere about someone and confessed, Arthur Digory.”
“Duke, you sometimes speak as if I’m heartless… hearing it now, you’re right. I am heartless.”
Arthur laughed heartily and clapped.
When Martinez squinted and glared at Arthur, Arthur cleared his throat.
“Well, that’s why I brought you here, Duke. Duke Martinez, the West’s greatest romantic!”
“Such cheap flattery will only annoy me.”
When Duke Martinez snapped, Arthur bowed slightly and smiled brightly.
“…Why the West’s greatest? If you’re going to flatter me, at least say the Empire’s greatest.”
“Oh, that won’t do. I lie often, but I’m occasionally truthful.”
Arthur turned toward Nell.
“His Majesty will become the greatest romantic.”
Martinez followed Arthur’s gaze to look at Nell.
Romantic? This magical weapon? Martinez couldn’t help but laugh, clutching his stomach.
“If the West’s greatest romantic is teaching him, you should do at least that much.”
“That’s sophistry, fatherless Arthur.”
“Even if it’s sophistry, I don’t mind. I’m a man who does what he sets out to do.”
“Your spouting sophistry isn’t new. But…”
Martinez looked at Nell and exhaled shortly.
“I don’t know where to start teaching. How exactly did Your Majesty’s tutors teach you?”
Looking at that empty face, those eyes that just stared, was utterly deflating.
Martinez deliberately chose provocative words, hoping for even a trace of anger or surging emotion from him.
“Most devoted themselves to fixing my poor handwriting and failed, while the rest somehow ran away saying they couldn’t teach me.”
“I want to run away too.”
That they’d tried to fix that handwriting was surprising. Was that the result of their efforts? He could already see himself eventually running away, unable to continue.
“First, forget confessions—you need to get that Marsala lady to open her heart to Your Majesty even a needle’s width.”
A hundred times or whatever.
Arthur and Nell were talking positively, but what did it mean when a lady who’d rejected proposals and tried to escape by stepping on Arthur Digory mentioned a hundred confessions?
It certainly wasn’t because she wanted to hear Nell confess a hundred times. Essentially a rejection. She’d rejected him before he even confessed.
“Marcella isn’t Marsala.”
Yet he was calmly saying such things and confidently promising a hundred confessions, which made Martinez, who’d wanted to anger Nell, feel his own anger rising first.
“It’s fortunate that Your Majesty, who looks clueless about everything, at least knows that lady’s name correctly. Do you know what she likes?”
“Marcella?”
“I heard you’ve been showing her various treasures. Does ‘Marcella’ like treasures?”
“…”
“You didn’t keep showing her things she doesn’t like, did you?”
Nell didn’t answer Martinez’s question and seemed to be thinking, slowly moving his eyes.
