A/N: Thanks for waiting!

Chapter 11

Now that I was fully healed from my jaunt of vigilantism, I was finally allowed to do the one thing I'd been asking about for months: physical training.

I think it was the incident at Bluefield orphanage that tipped the scale in my favor; they finally realized they couldn't possibly defend me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week without one of us finally snapping. (Hilde was definitely starting to look like she was very close to building a guillotine.) Physical training would at least give me some minimal way to defend myself, although I did have to name drop Heero to get them fully convinced to my side.

'Shouldn't the husband of the strongest and most renown general of Sanc be able to defend himself?' I'd argued. I made a mental note to apologize to Relena later for the precedent.

I'd been allotted one hour of daily training every day, with the exception of Tuesdays and Thursdays when I would be allowed to train for up to three hours if so desired. Commander Broden had to be talked down from personally training me – "You're the Acting Commander, you have more important things to do!" – and my personal guards were exempt as they were considered to be on duty when in my presence, so I was passed off to a trusted knight who could oversee my basic training.

The bad thing was: I sucked.

More accurately, this body sucked. It was obvious I'd never done anything more strenuous than a leisurely stroll – I could barely finish the 5 laps I'd been set to run around the training grounds. I'd been doing push-ups and sit-ups late at night prior to this, but I couldn't even do the standard soldier's amount of 50 for each, and my pull-ups were just embarrassing.

The good thing was: I finally met Geralt, the no. 1 popular gossip topic for all market-savvy orphans.

Laid out on the ground after finishing my last attempted set of sit-ups, I stared balefully at his burly form. I bet his punches could knock someone out in one go. Why the hell was he so jacked? What does Heero feed these guys, all the protein in the province?

"Why did you make him do the full training warm-up?!" Mikhail demanded.

Geralt was looking down at me in bewilderment; for a guy the size of an ox, he was more reminiscent of a giant puppy. "I didn't," he whimpered. "I told him to start with running laps today…"

Mikhail didn't even look surprised. I felt partially offended but was too winded to defend myself.

"Your Grace, what are you going to do if you get as muscled as this guy?" Mikhail asked me, jerking a finger in Geralt's direction.

I glared at him in defiance. "Carry five sacks of dinner potatoes, I guess," I replied sullenly.

Mikhail turned away to better smother his laughter. Geralt just looked at me in confusion. "You…You help out at the kitchen too, Your Grace?" he asked timidly.

God, it was like looking at a puppy and a bear cub rolled into one. "I suggest menu items," I corrected him mildly, sitting up with a sigh. "I'm not allowed to help out in the kitchen anymore because Chef Morris is the enemy of innovation."

"You exploded a pig rump, Your Grace."

"I don't need this kind of negativity in my life," I told Mikhail, unwilling to elaborate on my silent war on pig's feet. How was I supposed to know how medieval ovens worked, or what oil was used where, or that flour was so flammable?

That did remind me though – I glanced over at Geralt. "Speaking of meat," I grinned. "How's your romance going with the butcher's son, Geralt?"

Geralt flushed bright red. Bullseye! "Y-Your Grace?"

"His name's Rouge, right?" I continued on blithely. Lianna and Connor were going to be eating this interaction out of the palm of my hand. "Is that how you got so built? Your lover feeding you the best cut of steaks?"

Geralt flailed in answer. "I-I don't—I mean, yes, his name is Rouge—how did the Duchess know?!"

"Friend of a friend," I smirked.

Mikhail snorted. I kicked his shin without ever breaking eye contact with a flustered Geralt.

"H-He doesn't feed me the best cuts," Geralt mumbled. "But he does cook very well…"

Cute~ Maybe I'd go visit the butcher's son the next time I go down to the town market. I had to find new and interesting ways to amuse myself nowadays since TV wasn't a thing. Maybe I'd grab Lianna and Connor from the orphanage too so we could all have front-row seats to the blossoming daytime romcom that was Geralt & the Butcher Faux-Dandy.

Satisfied that my teasing meant Geralt would be conscious of his lover's every approach, I returned back to the estate to rinse off the accumulated sweat. Hilde was naturally there to help me, looking only vaguely annoyed which was a nice improvement from her initial displeasure when I'd first proposed the idea of training. Maybe I could finally start getting a full night's rest instead of planning ways to avoid Hilde's murder-eyes, the Silent Persecution - You Aggravate Me Edition.

Only when I was scrubbed down and looking very much like the cleanest duchess to ever dandy was I allowed to be seen by Howard, who was waiting in the corridor outside my bedroom with a silver tray in hand. That was already plenty strange for Howard, as most things were served to me by maids, but stranger still was that it was an envelope laid out on his platter.

Also contrary to his usual amiable disposition, Howard looked very solemn.

My gut clenched. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Is Heero okay?"

There's no way Heero could have died – he was the main love interest! I don't remember any mentions of major injuries in his past before meeting Relena either; Heero was literally a flawless soldier. From the way the book described him, it was like fighting a living tank with the skills of a ninja. I couldn't imagine anyone getting the drop on a ninja tank.

Surprise flickered over Howard's face, but he shook his head in denial. "No, the Duke is fine," he told me. "This…is a letter for you."

I took the proffered item in curiosity, wondering what about it got Howard riled up. Hilde, standing next to me, tensed as the name on the envelope revealed its sender.

"Trant…Clark?" I read aloud.

…Nothing came to mind. He couldn't have been a significant character in the book then.

I looked over at my two shadows: Howard had gone back to his solemn expression, Hilde was now sporting carefully-cultivated apathy.

"I'm guessing…this isn't a good thing?" I asked. "Who is he?"

He shared the same surname as one of the provinces in Sanc; the Clark viscounty was south of the Yuy domain, and was the only province aside from ours to share a border with Romefeller. If the 'Clark' surname wasn't common, then perhaps this Trant Clark was a relative of Heero's (still unknown) mother, Aoi Clark?

Hilde looked torn, which was an interesting expression for her; it was like someone trying to decide if they'd rather cut off a hand or a foot. "He is the third son of Count Clark, Your Grace," she finally managed out.

"Is he a dandy too then?" I asked brightly. Dandies unite!

"No," Howard and Hilde said in a very terrifying unison.

"Oh." Would I ever get to meet another dandy? I was starting to feel like an endangered species…

Hilde shook her head. "Your Grace, pardon my asking, but you don't…remember him? At all?"

I tried to make a visible effort in wracking my memories. Honestly, aside from his last name, nothing about Trant Clark came to mind. I could even remember mentions of minor characters like myself and Meilan, who'd both died prior to the novel, so if Trant Clark had been mentioned too – I should have remembered it!

"Sorry, I don't," I admitted. As a duke family, we outranked him, but if he was super politically important, I didn't want to mess it up for Heero. He had enough messes to clean up without me making even more.

"Your Grace," Hilde began, trading an uncomfortable look with Howard. "Trant Clark is…was…one of your lovers."

…

…well, fuck.

Trant Clark was unexpected.

The damage done by other-me to the finances of the estate had been my most pressing concern since I first arrived here. As I didn't have the same personality as other-me, the cruelties done to the staff and to Heero would have to be remedied with both time and exposure; I got along well with the estate staff now, including the knights, and had even formed connections with the people of the duchy outside of the estate walls. As Heero hadn't returned yet, there was not much I could do for him outside of the occasional letter sent to let him know I wasn't bullying people anymore, so that was a definitive work in progress.

I thought the issue with other-me's two affairs could just be ignored. I didn't know the specifics – were the affairs more like flings, or were they more like actual lovers? Had other-me seen his affairs continuously, or was it more like 'when the mood strikes' sort of thing? How far did they get, how often and where did they meet, what was their relationship even like?

I'd thought blatantly ignoring them was the best option. I didn't know who they were, Hilde never looked inclined to actually telling me, and it's not like they needed a clean break-up anyway right? I'm married, for god's sake!

It turns out I couldn't ignore at least one of them – Trant Clark was a goddamn noble. I guess that would make sense for the superficial other-me; if he couldn't stand Heero having commoner blood, it's not like he'd sleep around with another commoner. Points for consistency I guess.

It was abundantly clear that I had had no idea who Trant Clark was or that I'd had an affair with him, but with the arrival of his letter clearly spelling out his intention to come to the provincial capital to see me, I couldn't just pretend not to see it. (I'd asked; Hilde shot the idea down.) This led into a little roundtable debate with the staff members I trusted most: Hilde, Howard, Mikhail, and Meilan. They'd all been remarkably calm about it, but I guess other-me's affairs were public knowledge to most of the estate staff and I'd made it clear I had no intention of rekindling the romance.

"We could kill him?" Meilan suggested. Her every first plan was murder, it was starting to make me wonder what the real reasons were for Master Chang to make her stay behind here.

"Killing the son of a count would invite trouble," Howard stated.

Meilan would not be stopped. "Kill him and take over the Clark province."

I sighed, "That's just another war. Heero and the others have been fighting on an expedition for over a year now – I don't want them to come back home only to fight their neighbor."

"Your Grace," Howard beamed at me, obviously touched by my consideration for not launching us into another war despite it being started because of "my" transgressions. I made a mental note to start checking what Howard is drinking; I'm pretty sure he wasn't slipping whiskey into his teacup, but maybe he was sneakier than I thought.

"Don't you miss Master Chang anyway?" I asked, glancing at Meilan.

Meilan looked at her nails boredly, "No."

I rolled my eyes. I was pretty sure Meilan and Master Chang were an arranged marriage, but in the novel, Master Chang had never remarried – carrying a torch for his late wife well into Heero and Relena's happily-ever-after. Meilan seemed to reciprocate whatever that feeling was, as she allowed no insult to her husband by any lips not her own.

"So killing Trant Clark is out of the question," Hilde stated, pulling us back to the main topic. Atta girl. "And Your Grace has stated you have no intention of continuing the affair."

The revulsion on my face must have been pretty clear because Hilde looked to be fighting a smile. Mikhail cocked his head in thought, "So what would be the best way to settle this?"

Ideally, I could just snub Trant Clark and he'd take the hint. Going by the disgustingly flowery language of the letter though – he hadn't used my name once, just constant terms of endearment – it seemed unlikely he'd understand. This may even prompt him to come to the estate and demand a meeting, which was something I refused to allow.

"I'll write him a letter," I decided. "And tell him straight-forwardly it's over."

I can't believe I have to break up with someone on another person's behalf. If other-me wasn't already dead, I'd kill him.

"Have our fastest couriers deliver it," I told Howard. "If he's coming to the provincial capital just to see me, let's save him the trip."

Trant Clark was a punk ass bitch.

"He's at the gate?" I echoed in a kind of muted horror. "At our front gate?"

Howard nodded.

"Kill him!" Maybe I should just let Meilan have her way.

Shaking myself out of those homicidal thoughts, I let out an exasperated sigh. I guess it was too much to hope for that the novel would give me my space and let the issue of other-me's affairs die a quiet death. I should just be glad it was only one of them and not both, whoever mystery man #2 is.

God, it better not be the Prince. If it is, I'm gonna suggest Relena lead a coup instead of a peaceful inheritance.

But what to do with Trant Clark? As nice and quick as Meilan's suggestion would be, Howard was right - I couldn't kill another noble without some horrendous fallout. Clearly the letter-writing approach hadn't worked since he turned up at the estate anyway, which meant he wanted a face-to-face meeting. I guess it really was more effective to break up in person.

"Pick three of the scariest-looking knights we have to deliver this message," I said, drumming my fingers atop the desk. "I'll meet him at… Hiiragi Tavern, after dinner. Send Mifune there first to reserve a private room, the barkeeper knows her. Try to get a room without a bed, I don't want there to be any misunderstandings."

Howard blinked. "Are we not inviting him in, Your Grace?"

"Like hell," I scowled. "This is my husband's home. He's not stepping one foot inside."

A viciously pleased expression flashed over the faces of those present - Howard, Mikhail, Hilde, and Meilan - before Howard nodded and with a quick bow, left to do as instructed. I turned a look on the others that had remained.

"No," Hilde said instantly.

Damn, her instincts were always spot-on.

"Afraid you don't get a vote in this," I told her. "I'm going. You can't break it off for me."

Hilde scowled.

Meilan looked contemplative. "I could break him for you-"

"You're not going because you just want to fight someone," I cut her off. "I'm trying to end this civilly."

Now Meilan was scowling.

Ignoring her, I glared at Mikhail. He raised his hands up in a surrendering gesture, than countered that by pointing out "You still need a guard accompaniment, Your Grace."

How did other-me even have an affair with this much obsessive shadowing? Was he just an exhibitionist?!

"You and Mifune then," I relented. I felt like Lyle would just cry on me if he came, and either Berion or Sayaka would take the Meilan-route and murder Trant Clark.

"I'm coming too," Hilde said stubbornly.

Like I even have a choice.

Hiiragi Tavern was owned by a pretty older woman who was probably related to Mifune in some way but neither woman elaborated on it, despite their near carbon-copy appearance of each other. It was situated a few blocks away from the town square, and I'd only found it after one of my merchant friends recommended it for its lighter fare. It was a quiet hole-in-the-wall place that promised privacy, thanks in part to the no-nonsense look of Mifune's relative and the gentle giant that was her husband and co-owner.

Granted, it wasn't a high-class sort of place, but this was the break up of an extramarital affair. Class wasn't a part of it.

Apparently I was alone in this thought.

"My love, why would you choose to meet here?"

Trant Clark was an older man, dark brown hair pulled back in a short ponytail and topped with a Wellington beaver hat which he hurried to take off as I entered the room. He stood a head taller than me, although he was more lanky in form. He was neither ugly nor handsome, merely average through and through, so I guessed the other-me really was just obsessed with pure bloodlines.

I'd spent most of the day prior to this meeting ruminating over how I would present myself to this man. There was no way I could tell him the truth, either my version of it or the servants' version of it; it was more than likely he'd use my supposed amnesia in his favor after all. I needed to somehow act as other-me, except as an other-me with a change of heart - which was easier said than done. Aside from my purported list of crimes and how the servants reacted to me when I first arrived, I wasn't clear on other-me's exact personality besides "haughty bastard."

I'd ordered Mikhail and Mifune to wait outside the room, only bringing Hilde inside because I'm sure if I didn't, she'd break in eventually. She was standing silent and still by the door, eyes never leaving the floor as if she was waiting for my command. I bet if Trant even dared to get handsy, she'd find a way to dismember him.

"You received my letter, did you not?" I asked, ignoring his question entirely and settling myself on the sofa opposite of the one he occupied. I was dressed in something that may have been worn by other-me: a wine-red Rococo-esque tunic embroidered with white and gold flowers, black tights underneath that tucked into heeled white boots. A ruffled, matching collar was wrapped around my throat, my accessories limited to the wedding ring on my finger and the jewels tied into the ornate braided hairstyle the maids wove into my hair.

God, there were so many ruffles. How did women survive in this? I felt like I was wearing a heavy curtain.

"I think someone sent me a false letter, darling," Trant simpered, crossing the distance between us to hold my hand tenderly. I didn't bother to hide the disgust on my face but apparently that was not enough to stop him. "They wanted to separate us!"

I stared at him. Did he forget I was married? And that he lived in an entirely different province?

"But do not worry, my sunshine - I of course did not believe their lies! Our love compelled me here to find you!" Here, he scowled. "Although those fools at the gate of your home refused to let me see you and told me to wait here. I would have fought them but I did not want to distress you."

I would have loved to see him try to fight our knights. Their training was so intense nowadays that I wasn't even completely sure if there were just two knights out in the hall guarding me right now. For all I know, the innkeeper could be a knight, that's how crazy their covert training had been going.

I extracted my hand from his hold, making a mental note to invest in gloves at some point. "The letter was not a lie. I came here in person because I didn't want you to misunderstand anything - I'm ending this. We're over."

Trant looked utterly shocked. Exactly what about my current disposition even looked welcoming that he was surprised? Either he was just this dense, or other-me didn't like him much either.

"Y-You don't mean that, do you?" he stuttered out. "Duo- my love, my heart-"

What is this constant parade of pet names?!

"-has something happened?" he demanded, falling to his knees to grab at my hands again, expression desperate. Ew, bad touch! Bad touch! "Have I hurt you in some way?"

How would he even do that? I'd been left alone for over a year by this point; I may not have heard from or seen Heero at all, but at least he had the excuse of being on an expedition. This guy was just wandering about the country and hadn't even bothered to send a letter until he came to town. I was obviously just a booty call for him.

"I did some self-reflection," I told him dryly, pulling my hands away again. "And re-evaluated my life so far. I decided to become a better person, so I'm ending this...relationship...with you so I can better honor my husband."

"Your husband already knows about us!" Trant cried.

Oh, right. I guess Heero did figure out other-me had affairs, given that he would tell all that to Relena in the future too. God, it's going to be so awkward when he finally comes back…

"Who has been feeding you this drivel about honoring him?" Trant continued in outrage. "Was it the Duke's servants?"

He turned a glare on Hilde. She didn't look up but I could tell she was fairly radiating contempt. I didn't think he'd noticed, but he seemed as narcissistic as other-me so maybe he just refused to notice.

I don't need Hilde to tell me you're a dick, I wanted to say. Instead, I managed out: "I told you it was self-reflection." Remember what Lady Aurora taught you, be a good dandy! "These words are my own."

"Are they threatening you?!" Trant demanded.

"They aren't."

"Then has the Duke said something?!"

I fucking wish. "He hasn't."

"If this is because I did not send you any letters while I was traveling the Farrell province-"

"It's not."

"Then is it-"

"Sir Clark, this is a decision I came to by. My. Self," I cut him off, enunciating clearly. Why was he just dragging this on? Let it go already! "It's over. We're over. Goodbye."

I stood up to leave, contemplating making a 'maim-on-sight' order for the guards when it came to Trant Clark appearing in the provincial capital again, but this just pushed him into more frenetic behavior.

"Surely you weren't sincere when you said you wanted to honor your husband!" Trant claimed. "He has commoner blood! He's the son of a common whor-"

Okay, that's it.

Body moving on autopilot, I shoved Trant Clark to the ground. He landed with a hard thud and surprised yelp, although his shocked protestations died in his throat when one of my heeled boots stomped the top of the coffee table behind him. When his eyes met mine, his mouth slid open in a dumbfounded gape but mercifully no more words came spilling out of it. I couldn't help but grin.

"Hey, are you fucking deaf?" I asked him pleasantly. "Or just stupid?"

Trant just stared up at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"Heero might have commoner blood," He doesn't. "But what makes you so fucking special, huh? You think daddy's money will always be around to save your ass?"

Hilde was staring at me, I could feel it. I think I could also sense Lady Aurora's future disappointment that I was acting more like a thug than a proper dandy too.

I used to get into a lot of fights, okay? It's not something that could be helped; if someone ticked me off, I let them know it and let my fists do the talking! It was practically an ingrained habit! The only reason I'd never shown this side of me before was because I always had servants or knights right in the thick of it with me - and both groups held on to either lingering fear or remnant contempt because of other-me, so it's not like I could just start brawls with them around.

But this Trant Clark guy was just so annoying. Not only did he not take 'no, it's over' for an answer, he kept casting the blame wherever he saw fit and the more time I spent with him, the more agitated my people became!

Is this what Heero had to put up with all this time? A husband who flaunted his affairs right in his face and insulted him to the amusement of his lovers? I'm surprised other-me hadn't been killed sooner. Literally anyone who knew Heero personally should have just tried to assassinate other-Duo for Heero's own well-being!

Trant seemed to be trying to rally himself together. "Wh-What are you-"

"I write you a letter, but apparently you're illiterate. I speak to you in person, but it seems that's not enough," I cut him off. "Is there some other way you need the message conveyed? Maybe I should take a page from my husband's book and send you back home one piece at a time?"

Trant stopped trying to speak, paling incredibly fast.

"Not only do you come crawling here when you're not wanted, you even try to talk shit about Heero? You? The man who visited his home as a guest and slept with his husband? The only person with less honor than you is the husband you fucked!"

"But-"

"Shut up."

Trant whimpered.

"So here's what's going to happen from now on. You'll never come back to the Yuy province. You'll stay away from any place where Duke Yuy or I are residing. If I hear that Heero has even glimpsed a strand of your hair out of the corner of his eye, I'll hack off one of your fucking limbs."

"I-I am the son of a count-"

"Shut the fuck up before I decide to start with your dick."

Trant wisely shut up.

I smiled down at him benevolently. "Thank you for a fruitful evening, Sir Clark. Try not to still be here by the time the sun rises tomorrow or you'll soon discover the wonders of Chinese Water Torture."

I patted him twice on the cheek, ignoring his flinch in response because I am a kind and gentle duchess, then turned to leave the room with Hilde trailing my steps. Mikhail and Mifune were quick to fall in line after us, and going by their expressions, I guess eavesdropping was another course in the duchess-stalking training regimen.

Also, Mifune's awed expression erred on the side of creepy.

I wonder if it was too late to swear them to secrecy.

"You threatened him," Hilde recounted with a kind of shocked wonder. We'd just returned to the estate and she'd dragged me into the study; I thought she had wanted to give Howard and Meilan the rundown, but it looked more like she just wanted to interrogate me instead. I could never win, could I? "You defended the Duke and threatened to dismember Trant Clark."

Why did she make it sound like I just performed a shakedown? "Well he's stupid," I defended myself. "Lady Aurora said it's rude to visit someone uninvited. I was just passing along the lesson."

"You threatened to torture him if he didn't leave by sunrise."

Howard's eyebrows rose in surprise but Meilan just looked smugly pleased.

"If he comes back, I'll do more than just talk," I muttered angrily. Honestly, going by novel-logic, I should probably expect a murder attempt at some point in the future. I bet the novel would love that - adulterous duchess killed by his own former lover! Adds a little more spice to Heero's tragic romantic backstory.

"Where did you learn to threaten people like that?" Hilde sure was persistent. Maybe I should have cut off one of Trant Clark's hands after all - I bet that would have satisfied her.

I turned my gaze to the window - the night sky looked lovely. "I don't know if that counts as a threat…"

"You said you were going to castrate him."

Meilan's vicious glee edged up several notches. I pretended to inspect the fine craftsmanship of my desk in order to avoid Howard's and Mikhail's incredulous stares.

Thuggish dandy Duo, that's me. "Stroke of inspiration," I mumbled to the desktop.

"Did he cry?" Meilan grinned. Maybe next time, I'll insist she follow Heero to the frontline - girl had some built-up bloodlust she needed to vent.

"He did after His Grace the Duchess said he was going to use 'Chinese Water Torture' on him," Hilde answered. "I don't know what that is though. Is it related to the steam engine?"

I stared in sightless horror at my desk at the mental images of that. "No," I choked out in reply.

"So what is Chinese Water Torture?" Meilan asked.

"I'll tell you later," I promised her because I wasn't going down the dark road of perfecting torture practices alone. "Anyway, I suppose he won't want to sleep with me anymore, so that's the end of that."

"You mentioned maiming him if he ever set foot in the Yuy province," Mikhail piped in. He seemed to be in a chipper mood but I didn't want to examine that too closely either; I should probably start re-evaluating my inner circle here. "Should I pass on those orders to Commander Broden?"

"Please absolutely do not pass those orders on to Commander Broden," I replied hollowly, already imagining the clusterfuck that would turn into. By the time Heero returned, I would have already inadvertently turned half his guards into assassins and the other half into tanks.

"You also spoke like a street thug," Hilde added because she was never satisfied unless she found some creative way to stab me in the back.

Howard sighed, "I'll be talking to Lady Aurora about your lessons in diplomacy."

I twitched. No one appreciated my hard work here.

"As we are civilized, we don't need to lower ourselves to physically threatening others."

"...I understand…"

"We also never use crude or foul language to make our points."

"...right…"

"If you are insulted by another noble, you can demand a formal apology or take the matter to the imperial court."

"...yes…"

"If you feel threatened or grievously slighted, you can also just have your knights behead the offender on the spot."

"...wait, what?"

Thus began Lady Aurora's Special Lesson in Abuses of Power (Capital Punishment Edition).

Working on my embroidery and not at all regretting missing my chance to decapitate Trant Clark for a minor transgression, I delicately stitched another thread into the Coat-of-Arms of the larger handkerchief in my hands. This wasn't intended to be Heero's next gift, serving more as a means for practice so that Heero's next handkerchief would be beautifully embroidered by yours truly. I knew it wasn't going to be as well-received as Relena's workmanship would later be, but he could use it in the meanwhile right?

It'd only been a week since my meeting with Trant, so when Howard entered the room with a silver tray holding another letter, I felt understandably wary. "If that's another letter from Trant Clark or the other guy, just throw it into the fireplace," I told him. I'd just barely managed to dissuade the estate knights from following a 'maim-on-sight' order for Clark after Mifune spread the word, and I wasn't looking to revisit the topic with a new addition.

"It's not, Your Grace," Howard said, and for the first time, looked to be almost brimming with excitement. "It's a letter from the Duke."

"From Heero?" I blinked, reaching for it. He'd never written to me before - well, not me-me anyway - so this was a pleasant surprise. Howard had said the lack of correspondence was the result of Heero being too busy on the frontlines and unreliable messengers, but I think we both knew that Heero just didn't want to write to me.

But now he had… Had my letters finally changed something?

I never got to speak with Heero directly; I didn't know how he spoke to the man he married. Would he be cold? It would only be fair, given other-me's conduct. Or would he try to be falsely-affectionate, like Trant Clark, in order to please the spouse that so abhorred him? Would he be angry, or depressed, or just tired of both the battlefield of the frontline and the battlefield in his marriage bed?

Breaking open the wax seal and pulling out the letter, I unfolded it with a sense of wary anticipation.

Dear Duo,

I hope you are well. I heard about the fire, and your run-in with the bandits in Aoba-ku, and the issue with human trafficking in Ishigaki. It must have been very hard on you. Your safety is a priority for the knights of the estate. Please be at ease, they will keep you safe.

Also, thank you for the gifts. (Crossed out: The whiskey burns my throat.) The whiskey has an interesting taste. (Crossed out: You like this kind of drink?) The fruits and nuts were indeed my favorites. Thank you for remembering something so inconsequential. The (Crossed out: hand ha handke) handkerchief was nicely done.

Can you please answer some questions I had.

What is the meaning behind the pressed flowers?

What is a 'steam engine'?

What is the reason behind reorganizing the duchy's budget?

What were you doing in Aoba-ku? And Ishigaki village?

When did you start to like hiking?

Did you know there was iron ore in those mountains?

What happened with Lady Meilan?

What's a steamboat?

(Crossed out: Why did you) When did you embroider this handkerchief?

How is your health?

Regards,

Heero Yuy

"..."

Holy shit, it was like being sent questions for an interview from an inexperienced tabloid reporter! Or maybe like I was being given a quiz, but instead of Heero trying to verify who the hell I was and what I knew, he was more concerned with what I was doing. I wonder if this is how he usually wrote to other-me.

Hilde and Howard stared at me from across the room, trying to gauge my reaction.

I glanced over to them. "...has Heero...ever written a letter before?"

"He's written several letters, Your Grace," Howard answered promptly.

"Has he written letters that weren't about work?"

A telling silence. I looked back down at the letter. The words that had been scratched out were still legible; I knew from firsthand experience that scratching it out with a quill was a pain in the ass, so I hardly ever bothered to completely black it out. I guess Heero was the same.

'The whiskey burns my throat.'

I couldn't help it - I grinned. Heero is surprisingly pretty fucking cute.

And not a single term of endearment. I've never felt so grateful.

A/N: I actually had this chapter written last week but I hated the first draft because my inner angst-writer tried to come out and hijack the story. Rewrote it this week to keep the humorous tone lol

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