Please Kill Me - Chapter 31
The crucial point was that Leonid, the head of Rostislav, did not particularly like that nickname.
Regardless, the young man sitting opposite him, Yuri Oleg, was in a rather cheerful mood.
Perhaps it was understandable.
He had been fretting over the competition for the throne, and suddenly, a close friend brought him such a lucky opportunity.
“The god of fortune seems to be smiling upon us. How else could something like this happen? To think that a direct descendant of Offenbach would walk right into Rostislav?”
Yuri, slapping the desk lightly with a joyful laugh, began to count off on his fingers.
“Look, Lenny. If everything goes according to plan, Offenbach will lose all credibility. Given the longstanding enmity between Offenbach and Rostislav, no one will doubt us. No house would openly associate with a discredited family. Then, my dear brother, with Offenbach that was his biggest supporter out of the picture, he’ll be caught like a sitting duck. Perfect.”
Yuri’s hand, nearly closed into a fist, waved aimlessly in the air.
He was more akin to a local youth skilled in reaping wheat than a prince, but anyone slightly familiar with Yuri knew this was just his usual demeanor.
Growing up more in the countryside of the Oleg family than in the imperial palace, he maintained a boyish manner even after taking residence in the palace as an adult.
Easy-going, straightforward. Appearing more impulsive and temperamental than strategic, he was a genuinely likable young man.
That was Yuri’s public perception.
Of course, that was only the public face.
The same hands that seemed ready to kick chairs and roll on the desk dropped to tap on the documents.
Calluses marked the fingers, signs of hard work.
“The theory is perfect up to here. You know it too. So, is this feasible? That’s the key question. What do you think?”
“If I can keep Yekaterina Offenbach’s presence hidden from Offenbach, I think it’s not impossible.”
“Whether you can hide it is the issue.”
“Exactly. I’ll give it a try, but I can’t guarantee anything.”
Yuri’s eyes widened at Leonid’s response.
“I didn’t expect such an answer from you. Is Offenbach that persistent?”
“No.”
It wasn’t Offenbach that was the problem.
“It’s Yekaterina herself.”
At Leonid’s words, Yuri let out an ‘Ah’ sound of realization.
“Now that you mention it, she came asking to be killed. Definitely not ordinary.”
“Not just unordinary, but extraordinarily so.”
Leonid frowned at the headache already pressing in due to a restless night. Yuri watched his friend’s discomfort with amusement.
“What’s the problem? Too haughty to listen?”
“Far from haughty.”
“Then, bad-tempered and prone to tantrums?”
“No. She’s extremely quiet. Not the type to initiate problems.”
“Then what’s the issue? It seems she doesn’t fit any problematic criteria.”
“Surprisingly, yes. Despite not fitting any of those, she’s uncooperative and inflexible.”
Quiet nature or not, what does it matter when she’s stubborn as hell? Not haughty nor throwing tantrums, but Yekaterina was impenetrable in conversation. Her thinking was unfathomable, and every discussion ended with being outmaneuvered by her.
If that was intentional, Yekaterina would undoubtedly be a genius of the century.
“Finding cooperative and generous nobles is harder, isn’t it? Why does she want to die anyway? If she’s Offenbach’s foster daughter, I’ve seen her at a banquet. The Madam treated her like her own.”
“Treated her like her own?”
“Yes. You know how Sergei Offenbach cherishes his son. She seemed to care for his daughter just as much.”
Yuri tilted his head, noting Yekaterina’s reticence had kept her from speaking.
Leonid recalled meeting Yekaterina the previous night.
– I’ve never had a good experience. Being born was a misfortune in itself.
At first, he wondered if she was severely mistreated at home. But Yuri’s comments suggested otherwise.
“With such care in that household, she should’ve had an enviable life. Why would she want to die?”
Yuri mused aloud.
Leonid, too, would have pondered more on this matter under different circumstances, but his mind was already in knots.
And he didn’t want to dwell on this issue any further.
“Who knows? There must be a reason.”
“So, are you really going to kill her?”
“Nonsense. People change their minds, don’t they? She doesn’t seem that depressed or resigned, so perhaps she’ll change her mind while staying here.”
And when that time comes, he could also talk to her about this plan.
Leonid hadn’t even considered the possibility that Yekaterina would continue to wish for death.
