CHAPTER 6
Part 2: Faltering Footsteps
It had been two years since Arcus developed the aethometer. Despite that,
he still had yet to make his invention public.
There was so much to do. It had to go through rigorous testing, and there
was no end in sight to the search for a discreet space to begin manufacturing.
Godwald and Sue were still the last people Arcus told about its existence.
The production process itself was probably the biggest obstacle. The
tempered aether required for each device posed a frightful drain on Arcus's
time and energy; he hadn't decided whether he was going to announce that
discovery yet either. The road ahead would be long and arduous.
Since there was still so much Arcus didn't know about tempered aether,
he was leaning toward keeping it to himself, as was his legal right. Of course,
this meant he would be the only one capable of creating aethometers, but he
considered that a plus. The fewer that were produced, the easier it would be
to manage their production.
Arcus was now ten years old. While he had grown over the past two
years, he was still shorter than other children his age and a little on the lanky
side. However, in this world, height and bulk didn't directly correspond to
one's physical capabilities, and the fact remained that Arcus was much fitter
than most other ten-year-olds. This was all thanks to his daily training. At this
rate, he would end up being just as strong as Craib, though probably without
all the thick muscle to go with it.
Even after two years, his relationship with Lecia was good. They met less
often than before because of her intense noble education, but they played
together whenever they both had the time.
Due to that very education, Lecia's intelligence had flourished, and her
speech was eloquent and fluent. Arcus couldn't remember seeing any
children, boy or girl, at this level of maturity in the man's world, and it was
likely due to the environment they grew up in. Noble children were expected
to become mature adults as soon as possible, and their quick growth reflected
this.
Arcus's relationship with Sue, too, was as strong as ever. They met up
several times a week to study magic or hang out around the city. Access to
the aethometer expedited their studies, and they had greatly deepened their
grasp of the Elder Tongue. Thankfully, Sue wasn't being as touchy-feely with
Arcus anymore. She had also become just a little more formal, which was
also probably due to her growing up. Her obsession with his cheeks,
however, remained unchanged.
There was something else that had changed too, and that was Arcus's
manner of speech. He was beginning to ease out of the rigid, formal diction
Joshua and Celine had drilled into him. Noah had this to say on the change:
"I must say, I'm not quite used to you speaking so casually just yet..."
In fact, his servant commented on his speech rather a lot. Personally,
Arcus thought it quite rude.
"Your looks are just a little too... soft to be speaking in such an unrefined
manner," was surely what Noah meant by his words.
While Arcus was still self-conscious of his face, he had long since moved
past the hope that he could do anything about it. All he could do was leave it
to the passage of time to sort him out.
Today, Arcus was being made to run laps around Craib's garden.
"C'mon, Arcus! I know you can do better than that! Pick up the pace!"
"R-Right!"
"You gotta make sure your physical strength can keep up with your
magical strength!"
The coach yelling at him, of course, was none other than his uncle Craib.
He had volunteered himself to watch over his nephew's exercise, and part of
that was supplying plenty of "encouragement."
While it may seem strange for a magician to have need of raw physical
grit, the reason was quite simple. Arcus possessed just a little more aether
than the average magic user. As Craib pointed out, however, this meant that
there were still plenty of magicians out there who surpassed his capacity.
Though they never directly compared, Arcus reckoned he had about a fourth
of Lecia's aether and a fifth of Craib's. He didn't even want to think about
how he would compare to Sue, who he couldn't be sure was even human.
These were just a handful of people among the many magicians in the world,
but there were doubtless many more of them whose aether excelled against
Arcus's.
To close the gap between those superior magicians and himself, he needed
an edge to bring to bear; hence, strength training. At ten years old, his body
was finally able to handle it.
Or so he thought, but that was before he reckoned with his uncle's intense
"observation." Arcus wasn't sure whether it was the military influence or not,
but the moment he showed any sort of weakness, Craib would just add more
exercises to his training regime. There was a reason his uncle was so well-
built. In fact, Arcus had been exercising his body more than his magic lately.
Continuing to run despite his lack of breath, Arcus found himself starting
to get nauseous. He heard that children in this world were much more
resilient than in the man's world. This level of exercise shouldn't do him any
long-term harm. Despite that, and thanks to the influences of his dream, he
couldn't help but feel that he should have been filing an abuse claim to
someone about this.
Finally reaching his breaking point, Arcus came to a stop, resting his
hands on his knees. This did not go unnoticed by Craib.
"I told ya not to stop! That's it! Another lap, even if it kills you... In fact,
run as though you're tryin' to die!"
"R-Right." Still gasping for breath, Arcus set off once more on unsteady
feet.
He saw demons in the man's world who were less terrifying than his uncle
right now. In fact, Joshua was less terrifying than this man, although at least
Craib didn't lay a finger on Arcus.
Eventually, Craib's intense regime for that day came to an end. Arcus
could barely remain on his feet.
"Good job! That'll do for today."
"Th-Thanks..." Arcus gasped.
"Arcus." Craib's voice softened. "If this is all it takes to wear you out,
you'll never be able to hack becoming a state magician. You gotta keep going
and building your strength like this, okay?"
"Okay..."
Arcus already knew how high the standards to become a state magician
were, but this was ridiculous... He would at least like his uncle to remember
that he was only ten years old. He knew him well enough to know that was a
pipe dream, though.
This wasn't the full extent of it. Craib decided that Arcus also needed a
basic knowledge of physical combat skills, and so he was helping him train in
swordplay, archery, and horseback riding.
To be honest, Arcus underestimated just how difficult things would be. He
didn't think his uncle would put him through so much. He expected the
training to last just three or four hours a day, but the time it actually took
would constitute a human rights violation in the man's world.
Noah mentioned that this sort of intense training was rare, even for noble
families, but that was putting it mildly. Even princes and princesses would
quake at the sort of things Arcus went through. Arcus was starting to wonder
whether he would even grow old enough to get the revenge he sought on
those who birthed him.
He also trained daily by himself, so on those days that Craib put him
through his paces, the entire day would be spent on his physical strength.
Though it was tough, he didn't want to give up his daily training; there were
specific things he wanted to work on, and he was reluctant to carry out that
training in front of Craib or Noah, and so it ended up as a separate exercise.
That private training consisted of techniques he learned from the man's
world, but neither Craib nor Noah really approved of them, since they
differed from the nation's style of rapier fencing.
I don't think there's any harm in it personally...
He already knew how to avoid those techniques conflicting with the
national style of fencing, thanks to what he saw in his dream. Besides, all he
was really practicing was how to move with a wider stance, which shouldn't
affect things too much. It was a technique where he kept his upper body still,
using the soles of his feet to move.
With one foot in front and one behind him, he would jump off his back
foot to close the space between him and his opponent. After that, he would
focus on the twisting of his waist and turn to the side, changing his position
in an instant.
Again and again he repeated this move, determined to commit it to his
muscle memory. As usual, he wasn't practicing this specific move without
reason.
If I combine this technique with that other one from the national style, I
should be able to pull it off.
He had a certain move in mind. The most vital step to making it work was
to keep his upper body as still as possible. With those two techniques
combined along with the difference in human bodies between worlds, he
should be able to pull off what only heroes in books managed in the man's
world—at least in theory.
He had no time to rest. If he took even a single day off, he would never
manage the move. He had to learn it: the move that the man could only dream
of.
Arcus continued to juggle all these separate arts, making slow but steady
progress.
One day, Joshua and Celine Raytheft took their daughter Lecia to a certain
noble household. It was a large, four-story mansion situated in one corner of
an upper-class district in the capital, complete with a tower. The garden gave
the capital's central plaza a run for its money in terms of size.
While the Raytheft family had an honorable and established place in
Lainur's history, their financial power was nothing compared to this place.
This estate belonged to the Marquess Cau Gaston. He worked in financial
affairs, combining a noble peerage with a high-ranking official role.
Lecia stared up at the huge mansion in wonder.
"Big, isn't it?" Joshua chimed in. "It belongs to His Lordship, Cau
Gaston, who is thought to be the richest noble in all the kingdom."
Lecia gave her expected response. "Yes, Father."
"Now make sure you keep your eyes open and pay attention."
It was the same instruction her father gave her every time they visited a
new estate. He wasn't just talking about any magic that would be on display,
but also the way that different nobles lived and conducted themselves. Lately,
the number of these visits was increasing. Joshua said it was important to
make yourself known and introduce yourself to others. Dinner parties for
friends, courteous visits, magical salons for the upper noble ranks... By
making her attend these things, Joshua was making it known that Lecia was
the official Raytheft heir.
That was precisely why they came to visit the marquess today. Although
he belonged to a different faction than the Raythefts, his territory lay close to
theirs, and so the Raythefts wanted to keep their relationship a good one
through frequent visits.
Tonight, the marquess was holding a large party. For Joshua, it was the
perfect opportunity to show off the Raythefts' heir. Lecia was dressed up in a
high-quality dress reserved for just such occasions, and more care had been
taken over her appearance than usual today. Her father was also fully dressed
in formal attire, and her mother was attending too. He told her that this event
was important enough for the entire family to show up. "Entire family"
meaning, of course, everybody but her brother.
Her brother... As usual for these kinds of events, he was left at the estate.
Lecia's parents were kind only to her. Ever since his disinheritance, they took
out all their anger on him, while she was treated much more favorably than
he was before. With each passing day, their treatment of him worsened as
they doted on Lecia more and more.
It made Lecia feel terrible. Surely her brother longed for their parents to
love him like they did before. Every time they referred to her as the heir, she
was reminded of what she stole from him.
I'm sorry...
"Come on, Lecia," Joshua called.
"Yes, Father."
"Many of the guests tonight have deep, storied bonds with the Raythefts.
Behave yourself as well as you can, and be sure to remember their faces."
"Yes, Father." Lecia nodded.
Joshua smiled warmly at her. She wished he were capable of smiling like
that to Arcus.
"Lecia. You are our eldest child. Make sure you conduct yourself as the
next head of the household should."
"Yes, Father..."
Her mother's words were firm but gentle and made no mention of her
brother.
It wasn't long until a butler showed them to the reception hall. The carpet
was entwined with golden thread; large Sol Glass chandeliers hung from the
ceiling. Paintings by famous artists lined the walls, and exotic foods of all
kinds were piled high on the tables.
Such an extravagant display was rare, even among high-ranking nobles.
Every last inch of the room sparkled so brightly that Lecia found herself
squinting. The room was already filled with aristocrats in the heat of
conversation.
"Joshua."
Lecia turned to see who called her father. It was a man whose dark hair
was streaked with gray. His frame was slender yet sturdy, and he walked with
the gait of a man at least twenty years younger. Gaudy medals stood at
attention along the chest of his mostly-white jacket. An expensive-looking
rapier hung from his hip.
"My Lord," Joshua greeted him.
It was the Count Purce Cremelia. The Cremelias were also a military family, with the Raythefts directly beneath them in the hierarchy. The count
was also a general in the armed forces.
Count Cremelia was the highest-ranking noble in the east, and as such
took command of all those below him when the area faced an emergency.
With their territory in the east, the Raythefts also fell under his command,
and Joshua was one of three viscounts who supported the count.
As Joshua bowed, Lecia and her mother curtsied. The count gave them a
friendly smile.
"You are as pretty as a flower. Much more beautiful than any jewel," he
told Lecia, but she already knew it was the least he was obliged to say. His
interests lay more in conflict and fighting strength, after all.
"Is His Lordship yet to arrive?" Joshua asked, referring to the marquess.
"It seems so. It appears he has something up his sleeve. My daughter and I
are waiting eagerly as well."
His daughter, Charlotte Cremelia, appeared next to him. Her hair was a
golden brown, and her beautiful features seemed to have been carved by a
skilled dollmaker. In her immaculate white gown, she gave off an air of
nobility identical to her father's.
Picking up her skirt, she gave a graceful curtsy. After greeting Joshua, she
approached Lecia, and they exchanged pleasantries.
The two of them had met before when the Raythefts had called upon the
Cremelias, or the count threw a magic salon. They often spoke at these
events, too, and as Charlotte was older than Lecia, she addressed the younger
girl much more casually than Lecia herself would be permitted.
Charlotte surveyed the room like she was looking for someone.
"Where is Arcus, Lecia?" she asked.
"My brother is not in attendance."
"Oh. Might it be that the rumors are true?"
"They are."
Rumors of Arcus's disinheritance had spread ever since Lecia began
attending these kinds of events. She hated talking about it, but such treatment
of one's children wasn't unheard among families like theirs. If the heir wasn't
good enough, they were simply replaced, with the next in line set to take over
the family and its territory. Heirs needed to be talented, after all.
Personally, however, Lecia thought her brother was talented, thank you
very much. Not to mention hardworking.
"My Lord. If I may..."
"What is it, Joshua?"
"I would like to officially annul the arrangement between our son and
Your Lordship's daughter."
"You mean their engagement?"
"Yes, My Lord."
Joshua and Purce had arranged for Arcus and Charlotte to marry the
moment Arcus was born. The two of them had yet to meet, however, and now
it was likely they never would. Purce's expression hardened ever so slightly.
"Do you not think the decision to expel your son was made in haste? I
understand he failed to meet your expectations, but that does not mean he
lacks potential as a magician."
"I'm afraid I must disagree, My Lord. His aether is simply not sufficient
to be worthy of the Raytheft name."
"A matter of tradition, is it?"
"Indeed. As Your Lordship knows, we are a military family, and therefore
our heir must conform to a certain standard. We cannot risk him causing
problems for Your Lordship, either."
The count let out a small sigh. "This all sounds very familiar to me, you
know."
"M-My Lord..."
"Pardon my outburst. I have never known a more successful head of the
Raytheft house than you. You did much to help us suppress the Hans during
the Battle of Jars, too."
"Thank you, My Lord."
Though Joshua thanked Purce, it seemed he wasn't finished speaking
about their arrangement just yet.
"However, I do not wish to put Your Lordship and the countess in an
awkward position, and so I would like to call off the engagement."
"Hmm..."
The count looked at him thoughtfully, as though a little taken aback by
Joshua's stubbornness on the matter. If Lecia's parents were to be believed,
Arcus's lack of aether was contagious.
However, aside from the fact that it didn't make him talentless, one's
aether was something set in stone. Lecia wished her parents would just open
their eyes to that simple truth. Her brother's words on the matter were too
rude to be repeated, and he suggested they wrap themselves in—to soften the
phrasing somewhat—some sort of protective magic if they were worried
about that kind of thing. Lecia noted that her brother wasn't nearly as polite
as he used to be.
"Father. Let us do as he wishes."
"Charlotte?"
It seemed she was in favor of calling off the engagement. Lecia wasn't
surprised; she wouldn't want her husband to be chosen for her either, even if
it was standard practice for nobles. Especially if that husband was the subject
of so many harmful rumors. Joshua took the chance to double down.
"It was something agreed between Your Lordship and myself," he said.
"However, if Your Lordship's daughter is also opposed to the idea, then I
would like Your Lordship to take that into consideration if at all possible."
"I would certainly prefer my daughter to marry a man with talent.
However, I have heard that your son is currently under the guidance of
'Crucible' Abend."
"That was... my brother's prerogative."
"Is that right?"
"Yes, my Lord. He simply sympathizes with my son on account of his
own lack of aether. I am sure my son will gain no benefit from it."
The count narrowed his eyes at Joshua's unwillingness to negotiate.
Fortunately, the awkward silence in the air was not to last.
"My, my. It seems everybody has arrived!" A voice resounded out from
the center of the elevated stage at one end of the reception room. Everybody
cheered when they noticed the source of that voice: a certain middle-aged
man.
It was none other than Marquess Gaston himself, the host of this party.
Almost every inch of his formal suit was covered in golden decorations,
which was only amplified by the fact that he was so tall.
He exuded pure confidence as he strode through the crowd, making sure
he was in full view of every last guest as he twiddled his handlebar mustache.
Greeting everyone along the way, he eventually reached the Raythefts.
"My Lord," Purce began, "This is such a wonderful evening, and Your
Lordship is so generous for extending us an invitation."
"It's good to see you, Count Cremelia! I'm glad you're enjoying
yourself!" Gaston responded with a grin, his fingers still on his mustache.
Now it was Joshua's turn.
"Your Most Honorable Lordship, we are extremely delighted to have
received an invitation."
"Do not worry about it. I always like to keep good relations with the
eastern houses. Please enjoy yourself tonight."
"My Lord." Joshua lowered his head.
Lecia suddenly realized that while her father seemed to shrink back in the
presence of the marquess, the marquess was calm and collected. She blinked
in curiosity as Charlotte whispered in her ear.
"There are all sorts of unsavory rumors about the marquess."
"Is that so?"
"Indeed. For example, that his gains are ill-gotten, and that he does not
rule his people kindly."
It was a common tale. Thanks to the current king's efforts, corruption
amongst nobles had decreased greatly, but beyond a certain rank, there was
only so much the king could do.
"Father is awfully wary of him," Charlotte remarked.
"Yet you still came to this event?"
"Keeping up relations is important."
It seemed the count and his daughter didn't hold the marquess in high
regard, but thanks to their status, it was difficult for them to make their views
public.
"It seems you young ladies get along nicely."
At the marquess's greeting, Charlotte and Lecia gave a polite curtsy.
The following evening, Lecia rushed to Arcus's room.
Usually, it was difficult for her to find an opportunity to see him, but she
managed to sneak off today. Her father had been called away by Count
Cremelia, likely to discuss their relationship with Marquess Gaston moving
forward. Her mother was at another noble house for a tea party, and so there
was nobody to tell Lecia off for going to see her brother. Lately the servants
of the house had been turning a blind eye to their relationship, despite the fact
that their opinion of Arcus hadn't changed.
Lecia arrived at Arcus's room to find him sitting cross-legged in the
middle of the floor. It was a position she found him in often these days.
Usually, he'd be so busy with studying or practicing fencing that it was rare to see him still like this, but it seemed he was starting to make it a habit.
Lecia couldn't help but wonder what he was trying to achieve by it.
Just then, Arcus, who was facing the window, looked over his shoulder at
her.
"What's up, Lecia?"
"Indeed. There is something I wish to discuss with you."
"Sure, that's fine." Arcus blinked at her curiously but accepted her
request.
Although she felt guilty about it, Lecia couldn't help but feel that Arcus's
new casual way of speaking was an attempt to sound more masculine than he
looked. If she wasn't mistaken, he was trying to lower his voice a little, too.
He still had the delicate features and pale skin of their mother. His silver
hair was as curly and fluffy as Lecia's, and when he smiled, the word
"adorable" came to mind more quickly than anything else. Maybe she just
needed to get used to his new way of speaking, she thought, but she worried
about how long that might take.
Before carrying on, Lecia quickly looked left and right, checking their
surroundings. It didn't look like there was anyone around, but she decided to
ask just in case.
"Is Noah with you?"
"I sent him out on an errand," Arcus replied.
Good, thought Lecia.
Arcus shuffled around until he was facing her. Lecia settled herself down
in front of him and showed him what she had with her.
"When we attended Marquess Gaston's party the other evening, a servant
handed me this. Well, they were dressed like a servant, at least..."
"Dressed like a servant?" Arcus echoed in confusion.
As the party wore on, the nobles indulged more and more in expensive
wine and delicacies. They got drunker and drunker, and louder and louder,
and Charlotte and Lecia were tired of having to greet stranger after stranger.
Wanting a break from it all, the two headed to the balcony to get some fresh
air and finish up the punch they brought out with them.
Although Lecia was used to attending these gatherings by now, she hated
it when the adults got too drunk. Even the most elegant and refined nobles
lost control of themselves when alcohol was involved.
This party was the worst she had seen for that sort of thing, probably
because the drinks the marquess served were really something else. Even out
here, the two girls could hear the boisterous voices of the drunken aristocrats.
Any child would have tired of the atmosphere that night.
Her parents, of course, were not in such a wild state. They understood the
poor influence such an environment would have on their child, and so they
allowed Lecia and her friend to clear out.
Charlotte sighed, apparently just as fed up with the ruckus as Lecia
herself.
"Mother and Father are always saying how important these things are,"
Lecia began doubtfully, "but it seems all so curious to me."
That thought was on her mind from the moment they arrived. The start of
the evening hadn't been so bad, but once things got started, it seemed that
nobody had any limits anymore. There was no end to the indulgence. No
boundaries to the unscrupulous uproar. Was this really how nobles were
supposed to behave? Just watching them filled Lecia with disgust.
"I completely agree. I cannot imagine being one of this kingdom's
subjects and realizing this is how your taxes are used by that man..."
"The marquess?" Lecia prompted.
"Indeed. The corrupt marquess..."
If this frivolous lifestyle was borne from ill-gotten gains, Lecia failed to
see how it was cause for such celebration.
In exchange for their social and official status, nobles were required to
keep their people happy during peacetime and to take to the battlefield during
wartime.
Yet now it seemed they forgot their responsibilities and had fallen down
into the pits of disgrace.
"They are nothing short of farmyard animals," Charlotte muttered coolly.
From here, the cheers of the nobles sounded like the oinking of pigs and
lowing of cows. As the well-disciplined daughter of a martial family, it was
no wonder that Charlotte found it unbearable. Lecia turned to look at her.
The young girl sat in her garden chair, and Lecia had to admit that she
was absolutely beautiful. Although there was an air of gloom around her, it
only seemed to highlight her attractive features. Her movements had a
graceful elegance to them, likely due to her upbringing, and she reminded
Lecia very much of "Jacqueline by the Window Side" from the Ancient Chronicles. Her white dress suited her perfectly and gave off an ethereal
impression.
Just as the two were starting to relax, Charlotte spoke up.
"Lecia," she began, "what is Arcus like?"
"Arcus?" Lecia echoed.
"Yes. We have never met, so I find myself curious."
Charlotte looked a little uncomfortable, and Lecia could tell she was
trembling slightly from the way her golden-brown hair shook. Perhaps it was
the exhaustion of the evening. Usually she was much more cheerful and
gentle than this.
"My brother is an amazing person," Lecia began. "As His Lordship
mentioned, he is studying magic under our uncle, who is a state magician.
Although I am also studying magic, I am nowhere near as skilled as he."
Though Lecia and Arcus had never compared their magic, she was sure
that their skills were worlds apart. She couldn't just come out and explicitly
say that her brother was a magical genius for fear of appearing biased.
However, she was sure he was able to use a much greater variety of magic
than her.
Charlotte's eyes lit up with admiration for a split second before cloudiness
returned to them.
"So he's hardworking," she finally concluded. It didn't seem like that was
enough to capture her interest.
It seemed she didn't have any other remarks to make. Lecia wasn't
surprised. Charlotte likely met "hardworking" people on a daily basis. The
Cremelia house was head of the national art of rapier fencing and so took on
a great number of pupils. Charlotte would have been surrounded by these
pupils practicing hard day and night in the family's training halls.
"What kind of man would you be interested in?" Lecia asked her friend.
"One who is strong," she replied after a thoughtful pause. "At the very
least, I cannot abide a gentleman who is scrawny and pale-faced."
"Scrawny..."
Lecia pictured Arcus. While she wouldn't go so far as to call him
"wimpy," he was small and much more feminine-looking than other boys his
age. Perhaps to some women, that would count as "scrawny."
"How is Arcus in that regard?" Charlotte prompted.
"His physique is... similar to mine," Lecia admitted.
"I see."
Charlotte didn't attempt to hide the disappointment in her sigh.
Apparently she was looking for somebody sturdier. Those were the kind of
men she was used to in her family, so maybe that was where her preferences
came from.
Lecia had to admit that she was relieved at Charlotte's disinterest. She
didn't want Arcus to leave the estate forever.
At that pause in their conversation, the pair spotted a servant in the
hallway leading up to the balcony. He was a slender man with an unhealthy
pallor to his face. There were shadows under his eyes, and he gave off a
rather gloomy impression, not to mention that the way he kept checking his
surroundings was pretty suspect.
Lecia frowned as he approached them.
Who is he? she wondered. He seems far too suspicious to be a servant.
As she stiffened, he gave a quick bow before getting even closer. "I beg
your pardon. I am from the Royal Ministry of Justice. I apologize for the
sudden intrusion, but I wonder whether I might ask you to hold on to this for
a spell."
Lecia simply stared at him as he held out a black bag toward her. Though
she and Charlotte were too shocked to do anything, the man seemed to be
impatient as he continued to look this way and that. Whoever he was, it was
clear he did not want to be caught. It was Charlotte who broke the silence
first.
"Why, how very rude of you!" she exclaimed. "Coming up here and
asking such a thing of two young noble ladies without even offering your
name or adequately identifying yourself."
Her words were much more intimidating than they had any right to be at
her age, which was no doubt due to the environment she grew up in. The man
bowed his head even deeper.
"I understand just how unacceptable this is. However, I really must insist
that you take this. Please..."
He was clearly getting desperate. Charlotte shot Lecia a questioning look
as though waiting for her reaction.
The pleading tone of the man's hushed whispers and his suspicious
movements suggested he was acting out of desperation. Was he being
chased?
"What is this?" she asked.
"Evidence," he replied quietly, "evidence of Marquess Gaston's
corruption."
"C-Corruption?!" Lecia gasped, forgetting to keep her voice down. "But
why should you want to give something like that to me?"
"I was sent here to uncover the marquess's misdeeds," he explained.
"However, I am ashamed to admit I have aroused his suspicion, and now he
is keeping a careful eye on me."
"You mean to say that you are anxious he might take this evidence back?"
"That's right. But if you take it, even temporarily, he will no longer be
able to get his hands on it."
It made sense: entrusting the evidence to one of the guests would allow it
to leave the estate safely. At the very least, it would prevent Gaston from
destroying it.
"Please," the man repeated, "do it for the kingdom."
"I am not sure I can agree to this," Lecia said. "Please allow me to speak
with my father before making a decision."
"I'm sorry, but I would ask that you do not speak of this to Lord Raytheft.
The existence of this evidence needs to be kept a secret until the right time."
The man bowed imploringly again.
It was clear from his behavior that he believed this to be his only chance.
On the one hand, argued Lecia to herself, all she would be doing is holding
on to it for him. On the other, she didn't want to cause any unnecessary strife,
especially if that might end up involving her parents or brother.
And yet, this evidence was clearly important. She couldn't just leave it be,
and this man had risked his life for the kingdom to get a hold of it, too. By
refusing now, she would be ensuring that his valiant efforts were all for
naught. Simply by holding on to it, she could help to rid the kingdom of one
of its parasites.
"Very well. I shall take it."
"Thank you!" the man gasped with joyful relief, handing the black bag
over to Lecia.
"Is there anything I ought to do with it?" Lecia asked.
"When the time is right, I shall come to retrieve it. Until then, please keep
it safely at the estate. Thank you."
The man hurried away without Lecia ever learning who he really was. For a while she stared after him blankly, before the curiosity of what was inside
the bag overtook her. She still wasn't sure he hadn't played her for a fool, but
when she looked, she found it was filled with documents. She showed
Charlotte, whose expression stiffened once she realized her suspicions about
Marquess Gaston were right on the money.
"Are you sure about this, Lecia?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes."
Lecia wasn't sure she had done the right thing necessarily, but she was
certain she at least hadn't done the wrong thing, however much it worried her
to have such important documents in her possession.
"Shall I take it?" Charlotte offered, sensing her friend's unease.
"N-No, Charlotte, it's quite alright. I am the one he gave it to, after all. He
is expecting me to have it, and it wouldn't do to confuse him when he comes
to retrieve it. I wouldn't want to inconvenience your father, either."
"Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes," Lecia repeated, giving a determined nod. Unfortunately, however,
the unease in her heart would only grow with time.
Arcus was silent after hearing Lecia recount the details of her encounter,
but the surprise was clear on his face. She showed him the contents of the
bag, since at first he seemed as skeptical as she had been.
Arcus pulled out a few of the documents to study. Even if Lecia herself
didn't understand them, perhaps her brother would. She watched as his
expression darkened. Lecia decided he might even know the meaning of the
item right at the bottom of the bag, which she dug out now.
"There is this, too."
"A ledger?" Arcus's frown deepened. "Is this for his finances, do you
think? Wait, so he's been fiddling with his accounts? Damn..."
All of a sudden, Arcus let out an uncharacteristic shriek, his eyes wide
with shock. "Why the heck would someone give this to a kid?"
"Is it really that significant?" Lecia asked.
"This is some serious evidence," Arcus confirmed. "I can't believe he'd
trust someone so young with this."
"He did seem to be in quite the hurry. I'm sure he was desperate," Lecia
said.
Arcus grumbled under his breath as he studied the book, eventually letting out a deep sigh.
"Did you tell your dad about this?"
"Not yet. I wasn't sure if I should," Lecia admitted. "This might all be
forged, after all."
"True..."
She didn't want to make such a bold move without being able to verify it.
"The man at the party asked me not to tell Father, either."
"What did he say exactly?" Arcus asked.
"His exact words were: 'I would ask that you do not speak of this to Lord
Raytheft.'"
Arcus didn't respond. It looked like he was deep in thought.
"What's the matter, Brother?"
"I don't think you can just leave this alone. But I'm also not sure about
telling your parents..."
"Me neither. Since he asked me specifically not to, I'm not entirely sure it
would be wise."
Again, Arcus fell into silence. This time, he closed his eyes thoughtfully.
Lecia waited patiently. It took a while for him to open them again, but once
he did, those crimson eyes looked at her calmly.
"What do you wanna do, Lecia?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. I wanna know that before I say anything else."
"I believe I should hold on to it."
"How come? You don't have a reason to, right?"
He wasn't wrong. Technically, she didn't have any responsibility or
obligation over these items. However...
"Brother. I have been taught that high-ranking nobles should not only be
proud of their status but should act in a manner befitting it. We have a duty to
protect the citizens beneath us and to keep to the laws of this kingdom as an
example to them. As long as what I have been taught is right, I believe the
correct course of action here is to hold on to that evidence."
"So this is all because of your sense of justice? You know this could be
dangerous, right?"
"Yes. As a noble, I could not simply turn a blind eye."
That was what she learned from their father: to always remember her
pride as an aristocrat and use it to lead her on the right path. That was why she decided to cooperate with that member of the Royal Ministry of Justice.
If there was even a chance of this evidence being real, she had to take it, else
she would no longer be able to call herself a noble.
Arcus sighed. "I'll take it, okay?"
"Pardon?"
"It's safer that way. If you kept it in your room, someone might find it."
"Oh..."
He was right. If a servant happened to come across it while cleaning her
room, they may well report it to her parents. Not to mention the risk of her
parents finding it themselves. Meanwhile, barely anybody set foot in Arcus's
room, so the risk of discovery was much lower here. It was the safest place
for it.
"If that guy comes for it, you just gotta let me know."
"Very well."
With that, Lecia excused herself from the room. Having shared her burden
with someone she trusted, she felt just a little more at ease than before.
Lainur's nobles were a privileged class of people whose positions and
territory were protected, and in some cases granted, by the king. Society was
obligated to recognize their "superior" lineage, as well as that of their
offspring, but because of the gap between them and the average person,
prejudice was largely tolerated.
Though their exact duties varied from fiefdom to fiefdom, nobles were
generally obligated to take care of their own jurisdiction while helping out
with the official, financial, or military affairs of the state.
Martial families were, of course, expected to carry out important military
duties. Some joined the king's guard or the armed forces at a high rank. Some
who held remote land bordering neighboring countries were obligated to put
their private armies to use in cases of national emergency. Craib was the
former kind of noble. Count Cremelia was the latter.
As for the Raythefts, their family had been granted their own territory
near the count's after supporting his family for generations. It was for this
reason that Joshua could also be placed in the latter category.
Aside from martial nobility, there were nobles who took care of official
matters within the imperial court or national offices. For simplicity's sake,
they could be likened to bureaucrats. These included nobles such as Cau .
Gaston, who was a high-ranking bureaucrat dealing with the kingdom's
financial affairs. These positions were not attained through examination;
instead, it was the high-ranking officials who appointed people. In other
words, receiving a position depended on who you knew and not what you
knew, which of course made these positions a breeding ground for
corruption.
"What do you mean there are several documents missing?!" Cau Gaston
bellowed.
Despite his advanced age and rotundity, he gave off the impression of a
middle-aged man. His golden hair was the same hue as the millions of coins
in his possession, and the curve of his handlebar mustache was nothing short
of perfect. His eyes pointed sharply upwards at the corners, giving off a
daunting air of might and cunning.
In front of him stood one of his servants, who managed his estate. Lunch
had just ended, and he was here for his first report of the afternoon.
"How the hell could you let this happen?" Gaston's voice reverberated
through the room as he put his pen down forcefully on the desk.
"I'm sorry, My Lord!"
"Sorry won't cut it!"
The servant bowed as deeply as he could in apology. He allowed himself
to be battered by the marquess's explosive outburst for a good while, waiting
until he was satisfied to speak up again.
"If I may, My Lord, I have reason to believe there is more to this than
meets the eye."
"What do you mean by that?"
"The place these documents were stored is in quite a mess, suggesting that
somebody was searching for them."
"Are you telling me that the documents were taken from the estate?"
"Most likely, My Lord."
"Which documents are missing specifically?"
"My Lord..."
The documents the servant named included financial records and
documents which hinted at corruption. After his explanation, Gaston stubbed
his cigar calmly into the ashtray on his desk.
"If that is all, then everything should be fine."
Despite learning about his stolen documents, Gaston didn't even break a sweat. It was clear that he thought those documents alone wouldn't be
enough to prove anything. In other words, while they were valid as evidence,
he was confident that he had the power to quickly stamp out anything that
came of the theft.
There was, however, one thing he could not ignore.
"A ledger has also gone missing," the servant informed him.
"Hmph. That's not good."
Gaston's expression darkened. That ledger proved that he didn't pass on
as much of his territory's taxes to the state as he was supposed to.
But Gaston was still calm. Even this new discovery wasn't enough to
destroy him. He would just pretend it was all a mistake, make a couple of
bribes, and hand over the correct amount. At the same time, it would still be
best that ledger wasn't discovered. Even if he could brush it under the rug,
the state would be keeping a close eye on him afterward.
"Do you have any idea when these things went missing?"
"It was likely at the recent party."
"Hmm..."
Due to the nature of the guests at the party, security had been tight.
However, the sheer number of them (it was a particularly large party, even by
Gaston's standards) meant there was still a fair chance of slipping by
unnoticed. It was just a matter of striking at the right time.
"Do you think it might have been someone from the Surveillance Office?"
"It is very likely, My Lord. There have been recent reports of a suspicious
individual within the estate."
"Ah, so it might even be a spy. What a nuisance..."
The Surveillance Office was made up of the royal family's lapdogs. Their
job was to observe the kingdom's various nobles and make sure that they
were following the King's laws. They sniffed out corruption, whether from
inside or out.
Of course, Gaston hated them from the bottom of his heart. Though he
cursed them now, his demeanor remained calm. His dealings had been dirty
from the moment he took over the estate, and this wasn't the first time he'd
come under suspicion.
"Do you know where this questionable individual is at the moment?"
"We already have him detained, My Lord."
"Detained? That doesn't make sense." Gaston frowned.
If they detained the perpetrator, then why were the documents still
missing? Surely they could have retrieved them in that case?
"It seems he no longer has the documents in his possession."
"Does that mean the Surveillance Office already has its hands on them?"
"It would appear not."
"Hmm... Are you sure you detained the correct individual?"
"We hope to find out soon, as he is currently under investigation."
There was a pause while Gaston mulled everything over. "If they went
missing at the party, then I would have expected a summons to the castle by
now."
A good number of days had already passed. Even if the office dallied
about accusing him, he should have heard something by now if they really
were handed those documents. Therefore, the possibility that the thief hid
them somewhere couldn't be disregarded.
"How far along are you?" Gaston asked.
"We have been going at it for a while, but we are having trouble getting
him to talk."
"If you need to use violence, do so. Anything it takes to get him to sing."
"Begging your pardon, My Lord, but I did hear something interesting in
regards to the documents' current location."
"Go on."
"One of the attendants on duty that evening mentioned seeing Lord
Raytheft's daughter leaving with a bag she didn't have on arrival."
"Raytheft's daughter? She was likely just taking home one of the gifts I
prepared for the guests."
"Apparently it looked completely different, My Lord."
"Different how?"
"A black bag, My Lord, which did not match the color of her dress."
"Hmm..."
Gaston wasn't entirely convinced. He met the Raytheft girl for the first
time at the party, and she only looked to be about ten years old. He couldn't
imagine the Surveillance Office was taking on child labor.
"Suppose those documents were inside it. How did they get there?"
"One of the state's officers might have passed them on to her, taking
advantage of her innocence, My Lord."
"Yes... that does seem to be the only reasonable explanation." Gaston let out a frustrated sigh.
"My Lord, if I may, I can arrange for the Raythefts to be contacted and the
bag retrieved. Without making the reason why known, of course."
"No, that won't work. I'm sure that would push Joshua to check the
contents. Don't forget, the Raythefts are one of the eastern military houses. If
he finds out what is inside, it will be reported right away."
The eastern military houses were united under Count Cremelia. They were
uniformly proud and stubborn when it came to denouncing injustice.
Contacting the Raythefts at this point would be one of the most dangerous
things Gaston could do. He let out a deliberately loud sigh.
"What to do, what to do... I certainly don't want this coming out to the
houses in the east if I can help it." He paused for thought. "Have the girl sent
here—in secret, of course. We'll try to persuade her to return it."
"Persuade her, My Lord?"
"Yes. Be absolutely sure to treat her gently for now."
Indicating that the conversation was over, Gaston returned to his work.
He completely missed the grin that appeared on the servant's face.
Charlotte Cremelia: Daughter to one of Lainur's military families.
She was twelve years old, with long, soft, golden-brown hair. The longer
hair around her face fell to beneath her cheeks, and her amber eyes shone like
gems.
She came from a highly prestigious house with a long history of
developing and keeping the kingdom's style of fencing. Her father, General
Purce Cremelia, was a great aristocrat who oversaw the eastern border
territory and commanded the national armed forces. Along with this large
territory, they held a great estate within the royal capital.
None of the many nobles Charlotte met above or below her house had any
complaints to make about her. Thanks to her noble birth, many considered
her a beautiful butterfly, a flower, or even a princess: something to be
protected and treasured. Her father, however, insisted that she learn how to
wield the rapier, and so she spent a good part of her time practicing.
This day, she was very much engrossed in her training.
She was training in one of the Cremelias' many training halls in the
kingdom's capital. This one was considered both the biggest and the best hall
and saw use by a good number of noble children. Several windows clung to the high walls, letting plenty of sunlight splash against the spacious floor.
As the students sparred, their enthusiastic battle cries resounded in the
hall.
Charlotte's opponent was an older man and one of her father's best pupils.
His shoulders were broad and muscular, and she was overcome with the
sensation that she was actually sparring with an imposing statue.
Usually her father or brother, Wayne, would practice with her, but they
couldn't always find the time when their duties got in the way. It was at times
like these that she would spar with one of her father's students, handpicked
for their superior abilities.
Charlotte pointed her wooden sword at her opponent, her body turned to
one side as she focused. In turn, he put his right foot forward, turned his hips
so that his torso was facing the side, and held out his sword.
This was the most basic stance of the art.
She was facing a grown adult. It would be a very difficult victory for her
to claim under normal circumstances, given their size difference, but
Charlotte knew just how she was going to do it.
She steadied her breathing, waiting patiently for a chance to strike.
The very next moment, her opponent's attack appeared out of nowhere.
Sensing it the second before launch, Charlotte dodged, leaving his sword
hanging where she was just moments before. She seized her opportunity then,
striking out at the back of his neck and forcing him to concede.
This was her second victory of the five matches they had today. Though
she sensed her opponent's attacks each time, her body wasn't always fast
enough to get out of the way or to match the swiftness of his movements. In
these cases, just perceiving what he was going to do wasn't enough, leading
to her defeat.
As the man commended her efforts, Charlotte heard somebody entering
the hall. She didn't have to look to feel the powerful air coming from her
father.
Immediately, the tension in the hall thickened. Greeting his pupils as he
passed, Purce approached his daughter.
"Father."
"Hello, Charley. Working hard again, I see."
"Yes. I have managed two victories against Zell here."
Her father's eyes widened in surprise. "You can already hold your own against him?"
"Yes, Father." Charlotte bowed her head elegantly.
It was then that Zell piped up to sing Charlotte's praises for Purce, calling
her a natural, highly skilled, and so on. Charlotte found herself staring at the
floor in embarrassment at his ceaseless string of compliments.
"It looks like you really are gifted with the rapier," Purce commented.
"Gifted?"
"Yes. More so than Wayne or me."
When Purce used the word "gifted," he didn't mean that you were vaguely
good at something. He meant that you had undeniable talent: the kind that
was granted by the heavens at your moment of birth. You were someone
whose skills were far beyond that which the average person could even hope
to achieve.
This kingdom's royalty and its heroes who earned their fame on the
battlefield—he considered those people amazingly gifted too, else they would
not be in their positions. "Gifted" was also how he described Charlotte,
Wayne, and himself.
Was this "gift" he spoke of the power to foresee her opponent's moves?
Charlotte wasn't entirely sure.
"I feel their moves," Purce told her, "in my gut. What about you?"
"I can see them," Charlotte replied.
"Astounding," her father breathed. "I honestly think you have it in you to
become the kingdom's top fencer."
For some reason, she sensed that he wasn't entirely happy about that, but
his expression quickly reverted to something less complex.
"Charley. Remember this."
"What is it, Father?"
"Even if you can see your opponent's moves, that does not make them a
certainty. Even if you can see your own defeat, that is not a reason to give in.
Things can still change."
"As long as I don't give in, I can still win?"
"That's right. Incidentally, Charley, what are your plans for this
afternoon?"
"Lecia and I are to go for a walk around the city."
"Ah, yes, young Lecia, the daughter of my ally. Make sure you look after
her."