Awry Affairs

Change a hawk to a little white dove

More than a feeling, that's the power of love

~ Huey Lewis

Chapter 1

No trait is more justified than revenge in the right time and place. ~ Meir Kahane

The academy had three years of studies but students were divided into only two classes. Not class groups, classes by social status. While it wasn't entirely feasible to segregate the lessons, the accommodations, activities and facilities were divided. Even grades were never directly compared between the two. You could figure out how you compared but it would be time consuming.

Leon suspected that the general classes were graded a little more harshly, perhaps even to the point of being honest. He hadn't looked into it, he didn't really care all that much, but he suspected that the special class students were given more benefit of the doubt, and to a degree that depended on the family of the student.

The special class was made up of the heirs to noble houses: elder sons for the most part - although younger sons of a duke or marquis might be an exception - and all the daughters. Younger sons, along with the children of knights, baronets and the occasional commoner considered of merit, all went into the general classes. The logic was that nobility must marry nobility, and therefore the heirs should have clear access to ladies of suitable rank.

There was some justice to the accusation that the academy's special class was more a match-making venue than it was a school. As a second son (promoted from third by Rudyard's departure) normally Leon would have been sent to the general class. However, there were technically two Bartford titles and while Nicks was assumed to be the heir to their mother's new county, the possibility existed that Leon would inherit their father's barony - the islands weren't particularly close, after all. And thus Leon had been admitted to the special class.

"If the presence of the new humans from this other story you remember poses a problem, master, there is always the prospect of arranging accidents," suggested Luxion as Leon checked the posted scores for the placement exams.

"You're being unusually subtle there. No proposals to bombard the academy with your main guns?" the boy replied quietly.

"As disgusting as their antics are, your expected targets are already on the path to their own destruction." The AI's voice was stoic. "Clearly you would not pass up the sadistic pleasure of watching that play out."

That gave Leon pause, in a 'your approval fills me with dismay' sort of way. Was he being sadistic? Could he have stepped in to try to change things away from any of the three 'routes' that he knew about?

He could have tried, but he had little idea how it would play out and the chances of success weren't all that great. Unfortunately the flaws in the relations between Prince Julius rafa Holfort's coterie and their fiancees were already evident. Brad Fou Field had clearly shed no tears over being freed from Casandra by the downfall of her family, and if anything the other four seemed envious of that.

Not that Leon was close enough to have a good insight into that. He was at the very bottom of the class' social scale while the five of them were at the top. They didn't cross paths very much. He'd have had to fight his way past all the heirs to more important titles trying to make connections and all the girls trying to pick up the unattached Brad - or to win away the hearts of the engaged boys from their arranged partners.

Speaking of the arranged partners, Leon saw that Scarlet rafa Ades' name was near the top of the posted grades. The silver-blonde was also checking the scores and spotted him arriving, her face shifting from irritation to polite warmth. "Lord Bartford."

"Lady Ades." He spotted his own name, not all that below hers. Not being able to cast magic had cost him, some courses required it and he was basically flunking those unless he was able to lean on Luxion's technology. "Congratulations on taking the second place in this round." Besides the placement exams, they would have midterms and then the final exams of the term to look forward to.

Scarlet pouted slightly, but she managed to hide it after a moment. "Your own scores are excellent where your magic isn't holding you back."

"It is what it is." Leon was well past the point of fretting about the issue of his magical inability. It was just something to work around now. "Are you feeling competitive? You're not far off matching the top scorer, close enough that it's probably down to instructor preferences."

The girl stopped hiding her displeasure. "Lord Stuart's perfect scores are… frustrating. It is almost impossible to meet the instructor's expectations fully - they are supposed to always find some fault, if only to spur us on."

Leon nodded in understanding. The name at the top of the scores was Gerald rafa Stuart, one of the younger brothers of Duke Jeffrey rafa Stuart. Even a ducal family wouldn't often have third and fourth sons in the special classes, but the late Ygraine rafa Stuart had been King Roland's sister, and her sons were therefore high in the succession and all of them received top treatment at the academy. If Gerald and his twin brother Alan weren't attending in the same years as their first cousin Julius, they would unquestionably have been at the peak of the academy's various cliques.

Neither had made the slightest appearance in the original otome game, nor in the book Leon remembered. Which wasn't surprising, because they'd been major characters in an entirely different game and book.

Somehow, they'd been crammed into this world as well, not quite in the roles he'd expected but not that far off them either. He didn't know whether that would matter or not, but it was a bother. At the very least, Gerald seemed to get on well with his own fiancee. That suggested the presence was more that of the book's Gerald and not that of the game. There was a profound difference, with much less prospect for train wrecks.

"Is it important to be at the top of the class?" It was functionally impossible for Leon to do that, unless he suddenly developed the ability to cast magic. Cleare's evaluation suggested that this was basically impossible.

Scarlet took a deep breath. "It would matter less to me if it wasn't for his… arrogance. As if he expects no less for himself and no better from anyone else."

"Getting under your skin."

"What an ugly phrase for it." The girl rubbed the knuckles of one hand, as if imagining driving them into the face of the prince in question.

He shrugged in acceptance. "Well, would you be interested in studying together? I can't help with all the classes but perhaps if we put our heads together we can push our more academic grades upwards."

Scarlet gave him a startled look and then her lips quirked upwards. "Thank you. That sounds… quite pleasant."

The two of them compared schedules and found a time when they were both free, settling on two occasions when they could compare notes in the library. They didn't have all the subjects in common - Leon had naturally aimed for fewer courses requiring the active use of magic, while Scarlet's course structure was more balanced. And several courses aimed at more social skills were divided by gender - Leon was required to attend classes on hosting a tea party, for example, but that was purely optional for girls and none he knew of had chosen to take it.

"Are you planning to use your relationship with that new human to further your goals?" asked Luxion once they had parted ways. "She is part of the prince's larger social circle, however tenuously."

Leon made a face. "That isn't the plan, as such. Although if Greg Fou Seberg decides to punch me in the face for spending time with his fiancee, it'd be an excuse to take out some frustration on him."

He'd known the names of three of the five 'capture target's' fiancees from the games and books, but the fiancees of Arclight and Seberg had never appeared. It turned out that the girls in question were both of Duke Ades' twin daughters; so by befriending Scarlet, Leon had made some contact with the clique, if indirectly.

"That sounds like a very satisfying prospect for you, master."

"He hasn't really annoyed me that much yet; but I suspect he will, given the opportunity." Leon's mind went back to the previous conversation with Luxion. "If the characters from the other game were just some neighbouring kingdom I wouldn't really be worried. Their own affairs seem to more or less work out without anything like as much drama as the situation I was expecting. But they're here and only at one remove… that suggests that my prior knowledge is less reliable than I'd been beginning to hope for after things went so well with the Olfreys."

"You were already aware that the value of your knowledge would depreciate as you altered events," the AI pointed out. "In the worst case, you can always eliminate the variables by freeing me to exterminate the population of this continent."

Leon glanced out the window and looked at other members of the student body going about their lives. "The thing is, I see genocide as the worst case outcome… but we both know that you consider that to be the best case."

"Only if we don't find any other old humans among the population, master."

Alan Rafa Stuart hadn't got used to the Academy grounds yet. Unlike his brother, he'd never visited their elder siblings here. Poor health had kept him away from the capital during his childhood and even after he recovered from these early ailments, he'd preferred to spend time outside the city. The Stuarts had a sizable estate outside the city, and visits to their neighbours or simply exploring the 'wild' countryside of the hunting parks between them had kept him more than entertained.

He'd grown accustomed to the main classrooms and the music rooms here, but today he was looking for a remote corner of the grounds, well away from the beaten path. As he walked, he pulled the note he'd been given out of the pocket of his coat. He was glad to be wearing it - however well tailored his school uniform was for him, the double-breasted jacket wasn't his preference. Fortunately classes were over for the day, so he could discard it for something less constraining.

According to the directions on the note, his destination was just beyond the next line of trees… or at least that's what it seemed to be saying.

There was no evident path through them, but the silver-haired young musician saw that two of the evergreens were separated by just enough that he could probably push past them. He thrust one shoulder through first, parting the thin branches, and then forced himself through, ducking his head so he could shield his face from the prickling. This would have been easier a few years ago, when he was smaller.

Free of the trees' embrace, he brushed himself down and looked around. The garden was one of the many ornamental ones that dotted the campus - a gazebo in the centre with low rose bushes laid out in a pseudo maze around it - none of them high enough to be an actual barrier to navigation. Perhaps they were being cultivated to eventually form a true maze in a few years.

In any case, it wasn't what he was looking for.

Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out the note again. "Would it have been so hard to draw a map, Mary?"

A surprised hiccuping alerted him that he wasn't alone in the garden. Alan looked up and saw a flash of hair from behind one of the gazebo's pillars. "Ah, hello?" he called.

"H-hello?" a girl's voice replied. Not anyone he recognised, although that wasn't unusual at the academy. Presumably he would grow to know more of his classmates as time went on.

Alan hopped the first bush and strode towards the gazebo by the most direct route. "I'm sorry to disturb you," he said with less than total sincerity. "I seem to have made a wrong turn somewhere, do you happen…" He broke off as he saw a face that he did recognise slightly - one of the other pair of twins among the first years. "Are you alright?" he asked instead, seeing tear tracks on the girl's face.

Violette rafa Ades sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her uniform. "Yes," she claimed.

"Really?" He pushed his coat tails back and dug into his pocket for a handkerchief. "Here, this will probably do a better job than your sleeves."

"Th-thank you," the girl stumbled and accepted the handkerchief. She mopped at her eyes, and then folded it over to blow her nose.

As she did so, Alan considered her for a moment. Her hair was almost the same colour as his own or his brother Jeffrey. It wasn't that uncommon among some of the noble houses of Holfort - as far as he knew there was no close relationship between the Stuarts and the Ades, for the former's domain was in the south of the kingdom while the Ades islands were north of the continent. Even so, the colouring would have made it plausible for them to be kin somehow.

"So do you hide away crying often if nothing's wrong?" he asked her, hoping a little irritation would give her something else to focus on.

Violette blinked and then smiled instead. It was a weak and tremulous smile but it was something. "I've been rather silly," she confessed and then examined the handkerchief. "And I've made rather a mess of this, I'm afraid. Would you like it cleaned before I return it?"

Alan made a dismissive gesture. "Either way, it'll be the academy's laundry doing the cleaning." He accepted it back and bunched it up in his hand before thrusting it back into his pocket.

Violette looked away. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry, you said something about a wrong turn?"

"Er, yes." He'd almost forgotten. "I was looking for Katarina's… that is, Lady Katarina rafa Claes' garden. I'd heard she'd been given permission to cultivate part of the grounds, but I'm not sure why." Alan dug through his pockets for the note… "Bother, I had some directions here just a moment ago…"

The girl looked around and then she stooped to pick a crumpled paper off the floor. "Is this it? You must have dropped it while you were giving me your handkerchief."

"Aha." Alan accepted it. "Yes, this is it. I'm sure I followed Mary's directions…"

"May I?"

He didn't see why not, so he passed the paper to Violette, who examined it seriously. "I don't know Lady Claes," she admitted. "I'd heard she had a garden but I don't know where it is…" Running her finger down the page, the girl looked thoughtful. "Uhh… perhaps when she said the dorms, here," the girl indicated a point on the note. "She meant that you should turn after passing the staff block rather than the student dorms? There are several different blocks and where you go from there depends on where you turn at the circle gardens…"

Alan thought back. "You mean where the buildings form a circle around the fountain plaza?"

"Yes, the circle gardens."

"Aha." He nodded sharply. "In that case I'm about half-way around the campus from where I should be. Thank you so much."

"It's quite alright." The girl smiled a little more warmly. "Thank you for interrupting me. I was getting myself into quite a state."

"Nothing to it. I hope that whatever it is that's worrying you turns out better in the future."

Violette took a deep breath. "I'm not sure it will, to be honest. But crying about it won't help."

"Ah." Dammit, where was Gerald or Mary when he needed to talk to people. Katarina never took offense at anything, but other girls seemed so touchy. "Well, good luck anyway."

The silver-blonde plucked at her skirt in a brief curtsy. "And to you with your quest for the garden of Lady Claes."

Alan inclined his head and headed for the archway that served as an actual entrance to this part of the gardens. Now to backtrack to where he'd apparently gone wrong and…

"You shouldn't encourage her," he was warned as he went through the arch.

Startled, Alan hopped to the side and away from the source of the new voice. "What?"

The young man sat primly on the bench just outside the rose garden was a little shorter than he was, with distinctive aqua-blue hair and glasses. "Lady Ades," he clarified. "Once you give her attention, she'll be pestering you forever."

"That's… awfully specific. I was just asking for directions." Alan frowned. This was one of his cousin's friends, wasn't he? Not that lickspittle Jilk Fia Marmoria, but the other one from a court family. Arclight, that was it. Chris Fia Arclight.

"And she wasn't making a scene?" the boy asked dubiously, in a low voice.

"It would hardly be polite to say if there was one."

His reply was a sardonic look. "I thought as much. Well, don't blame me if she turns up at every meal expecting you to make time for her."

Alan looked at him. "And that would be why you left her crying in the garden and just ignored her?"

"I've fallen for that before, I don't plan to do it again," Chris said sharply. "Anyway, I warned you. That's as far as I feel obligated to go."

He stood and turned to leave. Alan looked at him for a moment. "You're her fiance, aren't you? Shouldn't you be giving her at least a little bit of attention?" He knew that he and Mary weren't as close as some couples, but if she was crying in a corner, he'd at least want to find out why and if there was something he could do about it.

It's not as if he'd expect Chris to challenge whoever had caused this to a duel, at least unless it was truly grievous, but this level of indifference was… odd.

"That's what almost everyone seems to expect of me," the other boy tossed back over his shoulder. "And I'm a bit tired of these demands."

Alan watched him go and then shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of silver blonde hair, and turned to look into the garden. He found himself meeting Violette's gaze - she was close enough that she could hardly have missed Chris' words.

Then the moment passed and the girl whirled around and ran in the opposite direction, vanishing behind some hedges.

The musician winced. Somehow he didn't see this ending well. If he said something like that about Mary, Katarina would probably push him into a pond or something. Maybe he should see if Violette had any friends willing to do that for her. The prospect of the Arclight heir getting a good dunking might cheer her up.

The student council occupied a full wing of one of the academy buildings, furnished in a fashion befitting a noble mansion. Real nobility, with money and taste, not the garish facade and back-corridor paucity that Marie Fou Lafan had grown up with.

She looked around at the finely panelled walls of the entrance hall, oil portraits memorialising past members of the council who had gone on to greater things, and the decorations that sported tasteful but visible gold and silver trimmings. This was what she wanted, for a moment she could almost imagine that she was walking into the entrance hall of her own mansion, on the arm of a handsome lord…

Well, she had that last part, the girl thought with an inward snicker.

"Don't be worried, Marie." Jilk Fia Marmoria gave her hand a little pat where it rested upon his forearm. "I'll see that you don't have any problems here."

"Of course, Jilk," she reassured the handsome youth. "I know I'm safe in your hands."

He flushed and puffed up a little. "We're all on your side, you know that."

"It means so much to me." And she pressed a little more against him, playing up the helpless damsel.

It was a worry though. This wasn't one of the events that she remembered from the game. Of course, that probably just meant that it wasn't anything important. Everything was going well right now, there shouldn't be anything much to worry about until the class was deemed ready to go into the dungeon and get their first taste of fighting monsters.

Had there even been a student council in the game? She didn't remember one, and she'd gone through every conversation and cut-scene. The only parts she hadn't completed were those stupid combats. Why the developers had put those in escaped her understanding. Didn't they understand that girls played the games for pretty boys, not for fighting?

There were no signs inside but Jilk indicated the staircase. "The council officers have private rooms on the upper floor," he explained. "The president will be waiting up there."

"Oh thank you, I had no idea!" Private rooms, just for being part of the student council. How could she get in on this?

The boy nodded. "It's likely his highness will be the president when the time comes, so he and I were given a tour before the school year began."

Well of course. That made perfect sense - the student council should obviously include the most handsome and important members of the school body. Then Marie hid a frown. But in that case, why would it not have come up in the game? After all, if all the capture targets became members then it would have probably been a plot event to get the game's protagonist in to meet them and to push the villainesses out - someone like that Duke's daughter that got in the way of Julius' route would probably be admitted just because she was lucky enough to have a rich and powerful father. Was it maybe something just the men were part of, doing all the work?

"How are the student council chosen?" she asked, wondering if the answer was in the student handbook. Should she have read it after all?

"The top twelve students of the special class are elected based on their results in the exams at the end of the first term," Jilk explained, a smug look on his face. "That ensures that only the best and brightest are chosen, without admitting any riff-raff. Between you and me, I think Greg might have trouble getting in."

"I'm sure you won't have any trouble though," Marie assured him. "You're so clever, Jilk." Inwardly, she cursed. There was no way that the protagonist wouldn't have got in, the girl was supposed to be super-bright and talented. Was Marie going to have to actually study to make sure she got into the council now? The girl set up as the game's protagonist was around and would probably make the grade for membership, which would mean she'd have access to the capture targets.

AAAAAH. This could be disastrous. What if she tried to take the pretty boys back from Marie!? It wasn't fair, she'd focused on winning them over - the important stuff! Why would grades matter all of a sudden?

The rooms leading off from the upper landing of the wing all had brass signs engraved with titles - secretary, treasurer, vice-president… A cute auburn-haired boy left one of the rooms, carrying a stack of paperwork. Marie reflexively scored him as an eight or nine - not a bad catch but definitely second-rate compared to the actual capture targets.

"I'm sorry, are you supposed to be here?" the boy asked. He wasn't quite as tall as Jilk, but he didn't seem to be intimidated.

"We're here to see the student council president, Dieke."

Did Jilk just call him a… oh, Dieke. That was a marquis house. Not bad, not bad. Maybe she should… No, don't get distracted Marie, she told herself. You know the flags to raise for the five capture targets, you don't know how to get this one and you mess things up.

Lord Dieke indicated the proper door and sure enough, the brass was engraved with the words 'Lord President of the Student Council', in an elegant flowing script.

Jilk knocked on the door and a man's voice asked: "Who is it?"

Marie raised her voice: "Marie Fou Lafan. I was asked to visit."

"Please come in."

Like a proper gentleman, Jilk held the door for Marie and she walked in to...

Oh.

Ooooh.

Mama liiiike...

The young man behind the desk was black haired, with the most handsome face she'd ever seen. His face was solemn but she just knew that if he smiled there would be sparkles in the air and the background would go to delicate pastel tones… in the game, of course.

Temptation beckoned and Marie had to fight down the urge to lunge across the room and lay claim to the hottie. DLC! He had to be DLC! How had she missed this!? Why hadn't she got a playthrough guide to hoist his flags!?

Everything went blurry and she clutched at the air, trying to reach out for the cues that must be there… they must be…

The next conscious thought she had was to wonder why she was laid out on a couch.

"Of course, she fainted, Ascart. Marie's a delicate flower. Being dragged here to some sort of inquisition must have terrified her," Jilk said irritably.

"It's hardly an inquisition," the boy from before said in a calm voice. Smooth like honey… mmm. "I've received several contradictory reports about Lady Lafan and it seems best that I establish the truth before the matter escalates out of hand."

"What happened?" Marie asked, her head still feeling fuzzy.

She felt Jilk take her hands. "You fainted, Marie. Don't try to sit up. Have you been skipping meals? Do you want to go to the nurse's office?"

There was the tinkle of a silver spoon against fine china. "Here, some tea may help."

Marie opened her eyes and saw the handsome young man holding a teacup and saucer out. "Please take a few moments to recover, Lady Lafan."

"A few moments? You heartless oaf," Jilk grumbled.

The president paused and though his expression remained stoic, his next words had an edge. "I recognise your expertise on that matter, Marmoria."

"What are you saying?!"

"In addition to quite concerning reports of bullying of Lady Lafan, which is my reason for calling her here," Ascart observed flatly, "There have been just as many complaints regarding her… inappropriate intimacy with some presumed gentlemen who ought to know better."

"How dare you!" Jilk drew himself to his full height. "I demand to know who is besmirching my dear Marie's name in this way."

"Marmoria, has it slipped your mind that you're engaged to my first cousin?"

Marie mentally traced the connections. So Ascart… ah, this must be Count Ascart's heir Nicol, and his cousin… that Atlee cow in second year. Bother, this must be an event for Jilk's route that she'd missed so far. Without the script, she'd have to improvise.

She hated improvising. It was basically gambling, guessing what you should do instead of having a sure thing.

"Am I suddenly not allowed to have friends of my own?" Jilk spat irritably. "How many of those complaints were stirred up by your cousin?"

Nicol Fia Ascart - the Ascart's were a court family - sat back behind the desk and steepled his fingers. "So far as I am aware, none. And your friendships are not my concerns, Marmoria. However, you have the obligations of your status and if you neglect them, which seems to be the case…"

"What would you know about obligations?" Jilk stalked to the desk and slammed his hands down. "Your family has given you the freedom to choose your own wife."

"Which is not as easy as it may seem."

What!? Marie groaned in disbelief. This beautiful young man was unengaged!? Unthinkable! If she only knew what flags to raise, what an opportunity! It was enough to make her cry!

"Marie! Marie!" She felt silk brush her cheeks and opened her eyes to realise that Jilk was wiping her face with her handkerchief. "Don't cry, Marie. I'll take you out of here."

The president's voice remained level. "This meeting is not over."

"I say otherwise."

Marie eeped as Jilk lifted her from the couch and scooped her up in his arms. "Jilk."

"If Lady Lafan is being bullied…" the black-haired young man warned.

"If that happens, she has my protection."

Marie knew her cue and snuggled against Jilk. "I'm safe with you, Jilk."

The green-haired boy kissed her brow. "Go back to crawling for favours from Stuart's fiancee, Ascart," he accused before carrying Marie out of the student council offices.

The girl relaxed at having navigated the scene successfully. She'd scored a princess carry, and hints to look into the student council situation. That was a win, right?