Bartfort's Bastards/ Family Advice/ Return to the Academy
I sighed briefly to release my nerves as I prepared to meet with the candidates for the Bastards. We'd been fortunate that the other fifteen had signed up without a word of objection. Whether it was simply feudal sensibilities that convinced them or the promises of an offer that very few would refuse, I couldn't say, but I was certainly not going to find out by standing outside the room. Alice stood at my right, wearing her own flightsuit and armor similar to my own, and gave me a nod. Without any further delay, I pushed open the door.
It was a ragtag group that awaited me in the conference room. Fifteen individuals between the ages of fifteen and thirty, men and women both, were seated at the table, taking in the unfamiliar design of the room as they spoke in hushed tones to each other. The side conversation stopped as they took notice of me and gave me their attention without any further comment. Alice took a seat on my right and waited for me to begin.
"Welcome, everyone," I began, surveying the group. "You are here because there is a disaster on the horizon, and you all are the best damn Armor Pilots in the Kingdom. You've played the scenarios in the simulators, so you know the worst of what we could be up against. I've even told you that in the worst case, we may not make it out alive. Despite that, you've volunteered to be here, so for that, I am grateful."
"Well, can't exactly say 'no' when the fate of the Kingdom is at stake, seeing as we live here," joked one of the recruits, to some scattered laughter.
"True enough, yet so many would refuse in your position, so I'll still thank you anyways," I chuckled.
"...So it's actually that serious, then," asked one of the older recruits, a young man in his early twenties. "The scenarios from the simulator are real, then?"
"...They're possibilities, yes," I finally admitted. "I can't tell you how I knew that they were possibilities in the first place, but I have confirmed a number of things with my Lost Item, and I can share the surveillance images as well as the historical texts we've found in the Academy Archives to support our suspicions."
"So, I'd guess the rest of us are just looking for the reason why you threw this little group together rather than bring the matter to the attention of the Redgraves or the Royal Family themselves, since you've somehow managed to make friends in rather high places," asked another recruit, a girl about Academy age. "All due respect, milord, but what will a group of peasants do that the Holfortian military can't?"
"Excellent question," I nodded briefly to the girl. "Well, for one thing, the sixteen of you are not simply a 'group of peasants', but you're the best Armor Pilots in the entire Kingdom, and I can back that up with quantifiable data as well. Each of you has scored at least twice as high in the simulations as the 'official best pilot' in Holfort, the King himself."
"Really? The King himself?" asked the first recruit. "I would have expected him to be too occupied in affairs of state-"
"I suppose that's one way to describe what he's doing…" I grumbled to myself as I thought of the man's irresponsible lechery.
"Pardon?" frowned the girl briefly.
"Nevermind," I waved off my comment. "To put it delicately, King Roland's moniker of 'Eccentric' is not baseless, which is not necessarily a bad thing. While certainly not as involved in the actual running of the Kingdom as the Queen, he is officially one of the best warriors, and by extension Armor Pilots, in the Kingdom. Unofficially, however, you leave him in the dust."
"Based on what, though? How can you prove we're the best beyond a shadow of a doubt?" asked a third recruit, an older man in his late thirties. "I know I've got experience from the last few wars, but how can you tell with the rest?"
"Each scenario was designed to push you to your limits in a very specific set of skills," I explained. "Not just battle tactics and combat ability, but the ability to communicate and problem-solve under stressful conditions. In essence, if you were the highest ranking Armor Pilot left alive, could you assume full command of any surviving Holfortian forces in the worst case scenario? According to your scores, all sixteen of you can."
I left it unspoken that the King would not be able to pull off such a feat with the same degree of success. The older man nodded at my answer, clearly expecting something to that effect. The group now listened to me with renewed interest, but made no further comments, which was fine by me. I cleared my throat and moved on to the next subject.
"We'll be pioneering some new tactics in Armor Combat," I continued. "Many of them will center around Old World design philosophies and battle tactics. For those unfamiliar, the current philosophy of Armor Combat is an emphasis on speed and agility over defensive capabilities, even in some cases over offensive capabilities. Armors, when fielded by nations, are often deployed in swarms of moderately skilled pilots, in squadrons of eight to ten Armors each. Elite pilots are often given Armors with the best combination of speed, agility, and offensive capability in order to tear through the enemy ranks and clear a path to the enemy flagships, so that boarding parties or fast-moving Airbike Cavalry can attack said ships. In summary, Armors tend to sacrifice defensive capability for this mobility since current technologies make it the more viable option."
I could see a few scattered nods among the recruits at this. Even those that had never sat in an Armor cockpit could see the truth in my words. The older man seemed to sense that I was up to something as he tried to hide a grin. I gave him a brief nod to confirm his suspicions, causing him to lose the battle against his grin, and I began to pace in front of the group to position myself for the next bit of flair I'd planned.
"'Mobility versus Defense': the Holy Kingdom of Raschel believes in it, the Empire believes in it, the Republic of Alzer believes in it, the Kingdom of Holfort believes in it, and even the Principality of Fanoss believes in it," I listed as I paced at the front of the crowd before stopping in front of the controls for the steel shutters. "Me, personally? I wonder 'Is it too much to ask for both?'"
With that, I pressed the button to open the shutters, giving an unobstructed view of the Arroganz in the hangar bay. I smiled to myself as I watched the group stare at the Armor in awe, silently making a note to praise Luxion for his theatrical timing with the hangar lights, to say nothing of the posing that he was making the Arroganz do. The group showed no signs of slowing down on their gawking, which I found amusing, but we did have other things to get to.
"Allow me to properly introduce you to the Arroganz, although I'm sure you all are at least passingly familiar with it," I explained with a bit of a grin at the positive response to my showmanship. "This unit and the other 'Hubris Mk.1' Armors that have been created were designed to provide a resounding 'No' to my previous question. Impervious to magical attacks and capable of surviving a direct hit from most airship guns, the Hubris-class Armors see only a two and a half percent decrease in top speed and no difference in agility and reaction time as compared with most other Armor units used within the last two decades."
"Who's piloting it?" asked the girl from earlier.
"That would be Luxion," I answered with a grin.
"If your Lost Item can pilot Armors, then why did you need us in the first place?" frowned the girl.
"You're not wrong," I conceded. "If Luxion were to metaphorically 'drop everything', so to speak, he could probably fly double the number of Armors to a competent degree, as opposed to the sixteen of you."
"...It's going to be busy doing something else, isn't it?" concluded the older man from earlier.
"The huge warship with the massive cannon in one of the early scenarios," the young man jumped in. "That's what Luxion controls, isn't it?"
"Among other things, yes," I confirmed with a nod. "The reason why pilots are necessary is that Luxion loses finesse as the number of things he controls increases, and he's going to be controlling a large number of 'somethings' if things go south."
"The evacuation ships from Scenario Nine and the Nightmare Scenario," concluded the girl.
"You've got it," I confirmed. "If we fail and the Kingdom's armies start to fall, Luxion will begin to evacuate civilian lives as quickly as he can, and it will fall to us to buy him the time that he needs, with our lives if we must."
"So we'd run from Fanoss, then?" asked the older man. "We'd allow them to destroy the Kingdom, giving our lives so that our people can flee like rats?"
"What makes a Kingdom: the territory, the cities, or the people who live in it?" I argued. "Many of the buildings of the Old World still stand, but I doubt that you've heard of nations such as Japan, China, the United Kingdom, or any others from thousands of years ago. Their people and culture have long since died out, and so their nations have been lost to time. I will not allow that to happen to Holfort. We will count our victories in the lives we save, not in battles won or armies slain. If anyone has a problem with that, then let them leave now."
I looked around the room to see that none had moved, not even the older man. In fact, the older man was grinning, as though I'd passed some sort of test in his eyes. After a moment, I decided to move on.
"We'll be breaking into squads of four, led by a squad leader who will receive their commands from me," I explained. "First squad will be led by Alice of Overland, our top-scoring candidate and my second in command. She lasted the longest out of all of you on Nightmare at a full fifteen minutes."
I could see the group nodding appreciatively as they recognized Alice's capabilities, which put my own mind at ease. I knew Alice herself had been extremely unsure about leading a squad at her age, but she was objectively the best candidate as determined by the simulation scores.
"Second squad will be led by Howard of Langton," I continued as I surveyed the group. "Howard, if you would stand for the group?"
"Gladly, sir," grinned the older man as he identified himself.
"...Third squad will be led by Maria of Verdant Plains," I continued, beginning to see a pattern with my squad leaders and the individuals who had spoken up during the meeting. Then again, I did pick them as squad leaders based on their ability to take initiative, so perhaps it wasn't as surprising that they were the ones to speak up.
"Present, sir," the girl from earlier stood to be recognized.
"...Liam, I presume?" I finally asked, turning to the younger man from earlier.
"Yes sir," grinned Liam. "Liam Fou Navarre, Fifth Son of Viscount Navarre."
"...You'll be leading Fourth Squad, as I'm sure you've gathered," I sighed, smiling in spite of myself.
"I didn't want to assume, but it made sense," chuckled Liam. "So what are your first orders for us, 'Boss'?"
"Well, our starting strategy will be to get you all running simulations together on the Nightmare Scenario in order to bring up your survival times," I explained. "Alice holds the record at fifteen minutes and thirty seven seconds, but that's less than a fifth of the amount of time we'd need in an actual 'nightmare scenario'."
"How long do we actually need, then?" asked Howard.
"Luxion estimates that the worst case scenario for evacuation would take eighty-seven minutes, assuming a maximum number of civilians to evacuate when the retreat is called," I grimaced. "And we have no way of knowing what condition Holfort's military will be in if and when said retreat is called, so that is why we're assuming the Nightmare scenario is our best bet."
"...Well you weren't wrong that this would probably be a suicide mission," chuckled Liam. "Still, if the families of Holfort can live one more day by my sacrifice, I think I'd be alright with that."
"I doubt any of us would be here otherwise, boy," added Howard as the rest of the room gave vocal sounds of agreement.
"Your commitment is appreciated," I agreed. "The only other thing that I'll have you working on is your ability to survive outside of the cockpit. Howard, it seems that you've had some training in that regard?"
"Yes sir," confirmed Howard. "Second Lieutenant of the Holfortian Marines, but I was discharged for insubordination when an arrogant Earl's son tried to give me an order that would have gotten an entire company killed. Our superior officers agreed with me, hence why my head is still on my shoulders, but the brat's father was placed high enough in the Noble Court that a 'dishonorable discharge' was considered a suitable compromise. That being said, I hope you don't expect this group to be up to Royal Marine standards in just a few months."
"Not at all," I confirmed. "I just want you all to be able to survive long enough that you can make your way back home to a fresh Armor unit."
"I think we can arrange that, at the very least," grinned Howard as he shook my hand. "Rest of the group may hate you for it, though."
As long as they still lived to hate me for it, I could live with that.
"...So you're not really our Big Brother?" asked Colin shakily, his eyes starting to well up with tears.
With only a few days left for the break and the threat of Fanoss likely to emerge before I had the chance to speak to them again, I'd decided to finally share the truth of my reincarnation with my younger siblings. My heart ached at the look Colin gave me, his normally cheerful and excited demeanor absent as he stared up at me like a kicked puppy. I opened my mouth to reassure him when Finley intervened.
"Don't be a dummy, Colin." chided Finley confidently. "Of course he's our brother. You weren't even born when whatever made Leon change happened, so this Leon is the only Leon you'd have ever known. For my part, I would have barely been a year old when the change occurred, so really the only ones who'd have known a difference would have been Jenna, Nicks, Mother, and Father."
In spite of her tone and words, I could feel a hint of desperation in Finley's eyes as she stared at me. I was honestly quite touched by her wholehearted support, even as she struggled with her own doubts. I reached out to my younger siblings and gently ruffled their hair, laughing to myself as I watched Finley lean into it, her normally proud and aloof demeanor totally absent as she accepted my affection. If Colin was like a Golden Retriever puppy, Finley was a cat, through and through, and it amused me to no end every time I made the comparison.
"Fin's right, Colin," I smiled. "We're family in all the ways that really matter. I just remember a world that was very different from ours."
"And you're going to save the day in our world, right?" smiled Colin as his eyes lit up.
"Naturally, Colin, as we would expect of our brother," replied Finley as she gave a more subdued smile, taking a moment to enjoy my affection. "He's looked out for us for all our lives, so why would we expect him to stop looking out for us now?"
"She's right, you know," I nodded, grinning in spite of the growing uncertainty in my gut. "Lux and I are doing everything we can to keep the people of the Kingdom safe if the worst should happen."
"So you'll save the Kingdom and drive off the invasion?" asked Colin excitedly.
"I'll do everything I can-" I began when Finley cut me off.
"Of course he will!" scoffed Finley.
"And you'll be named a hero of legend by the King himself for your deeds?" continued Colin, eyes shining with unrestrained glee.
"Well, I don't know about that-" I attempted to backtrack.
"Naturally, little brother!" chimed in Finley.
"And then you'll marry Miss Livia and have lots and lots of kids?" asked Colin, clearly showing no signs of stopping on his little verbal rampage.
"Hold on, I'm not-" I tried to redirect.
"Oh, then you're going to marry Miss Angie?" asked Colin brightly.
"No, I'm-" I tried again, with just as much success as the first attempt.
"Oh, of course you're going to marry Miss Clarice!" chirped Colin as he jumped to the completely wrong conclusion.
"Colin, I'm not-" I tried one last time.
"Colin, don't be ridiculous!" scolded Finley. "Of course he's not going to simply marry Miss Livia, Miss Clarice, or Miss Angie!"
"...Thank you, Finley-" I sighed in relief, taking a sip from my teacup as I relaxed far too soon.
"He's obviously going to marry all three of them," concluded Finley with a smug smile.
Prior to that moment, it never occurred to me that the shape and depth of a classic teacup design would, at a sudden reversal of flow, perfectly redirect any liquid into the user's eyes and nose if not lowered quickly. Of course, as I proceeded to spit my tea in shock at my youngest sister's statement, I was slightly more distracted by the hot tea in my eyes to marvel at the fluid dynamics of the common teacup. As I spluttered and tried to clear my vision, I could hear Colin trying to stifle giggles at the spectacle his older brother had made. After a moment to collect myself, I turned to Finley to stomp down on her statements when she pressed her initiative.
"Brother, please stop being intentionally obtuse," scolded Finley. "You have feelings for them, do you not?"
"...I do, but that's-" I began hesitantly.
"Do you love one of them over the other two?" pressed Finley.
"Of course not!" I snapped without thinking, before realizing I'd thoroughly put my foot into Finley's trap. "But-"
"If you love all three of them the same, and they love you, then why wouldn't you marry all three of them?" countered Finley.
"Because they may not feel the same way once I tell them the truth!" I countered, seizing the opportunity to get a word in before composing myself again. "...You're right: I do have feelings for them, but I'm not going to hide the truth of what I am, and that truth could really hurt them, considering what I've done and failed to do based on what I know."
Finley tried to hold firm in the face of my declaration, but I could see a glimmer of doubt in her eyes as she considered my words.
"If you're the only brother we've ever known, then that means that you're the only Leon they've ever known," argued Finley firmly.
"...You're not wrong, but my previous life had very little impact on you and Colin," I replied. "What I remembered from my previous life had the potential to change their lives, and I failed to intervene. Knowing that, can you tell me without a doubt that they wouldn't be hurt by it?"
Finley said nothing; trying to deny it but knowing that I had a valid point. Instead, she proceeded to hug me and bury her face into my chest, trying to provide emotional comfort however she could. It made me smile to see Finley turning techniques that I'd first used to comfort her, back when times were particularly hard because of Zola and her spawn. I hadn't had many comforting words back then either, but I could act as a foundation of support, and so I had let my second little sister cry into my chest even as I silently worried when we'd needed to sell the furniture to meet Zola's extravagant allowance.
Colin soon joined her at my other side, and I smiled to myself even as bittersweet melancholy set in. How many times had my little sister from my first life behaved exactly like this when we were that age? Sure, our relationship had gotten rocky in the years leading up to my untimely demise, but we'd still had each other's backs. She'd gone that weekend to party with a friend at the beach, but I'd covered for her when my parents messaged me about where she was, even when I'd been so angry at her. My last "words" to her hadn't even been full words; just a disgruntled grumble of agreement to 100% complete the damn game for her. Hell, I could no longer remember the last time I'd told her that I loved her in my first life, and now I never would. Once I'd realized that, I had sworn that none of my Second Family would ever have doubts that I loved them when I finally left this life. I let out a sigh and let my melancholy fade before addressing my siblings.
"Thanks, you two," I smiled, ruffling their hair once more. "It may not have changed my situation, but you two did help."
Finley looked like she wanted to say more, but stopped as she caught sight of someone behind me. She smiled, hugged me again, and then grabbed Colin's hand to leave me in the care of whoever had entered the room next. Colin opened his mouth to protest until he caught sight of the mystery person, instead grinning with confidence that whoever would be speaking to me next would solve everything. Considering that Jenna, Nicks, and Dad had already tried unsuccessfully, that just left my mother to take her shot at lifting my spirits and changing my outlook. Out of everyone, I supposed that she'd have the greatest odds of getting me through this, but even then I wasn't optimistic.
My mother didn't say a word as she stood next to me as we watched the clouds drift by on an endless blue sky. There was something comforting in her presence, even when I was a small child, that just set me at ease without a word. After a few minutes, my mother finally spoke, her voice gentle and without judgment.
"There's more bothering you than just what you told Finley and Colin, isn't there, son?" guessed Luce, clearly having overheard my conversation with my younger siblings.
"...Yeah… There is…" I sighed, running my hand through my hair to try and lower my frustration. "...God, mom, in my first life, I barely knew what I was doing with one woman, let alone three at once. How the hell do I balance a relationship like that?"
"You allow them to help you, Leon," smiled my mother gently. "Even if your old world had different ideals, a relationship still depends on communication and cooperation from everyone involved."
"...Okay, I'll admit that I should have thought about that sooner," I conceded. "But how do I even ask the question? Polyamory wasn't completely unheard of in my old life, but it was certainly frowned upon, so I haven't got a clue on what to say! Besides, two of the girls that I'd be asking have already had their hearts broken by two-timers, so what the hell do I do with that?!"
"Be yourself, Leon," replied Luce with another gentle smile. "Be honest with them, like you always have, and tell them how you feel about them… about all of them…"
I blinked for a moment, part of me kicking myself for not thinking of what my mother was telling me sooner, even as another part of me screamed that it couldn't be that simple. And yet, for all my doubts, I knew she was right. Of course, gathering the nerve and willpower to act on it was another matter entirely, but I had to start somewhere.
"...So, just speak to them as a group, or should I speak with each of them individually?" I attempted to snark, even as I lost the battle to keep an honest smile off of my face. "I mean, there's something to be said for getting the rejection over all at once, but on the other hand, having an audience doesn't sound appealing either-"
"Leon, my son, if you try to deny that those girls are in love with you just as much as you're in love with them, I shall be very disappointed in you," frowned Luce as she crossed her arms.
"...Alright, they have feelings for me," I grumbled petulantly. "But what about-"
"-your status as a man from another world?" interrupted Luce with a knowing look. "I know that your father, Luxion, and Jenna have told you countless times over break that it won't matter to them as much as you think that it does, so I won't have that argument with you now. Instead, I want you to picture something for me: If they do find love elsewhere, would you truly be able to live with that regret? The regret that it could have been you instead? Would you be able to live with the knowledge that they moved on because you said nothing?"
I opened my mouth to immediately deny any sort of regret at "missing my shot", but I could feel my throat tighten as the words died horribly in my mouth. As much as I wanted to just say that it didn't matter to me, that I could in fact live with someone else looking at them lovingly, I could feel something in my chest scream in protest the moment I began to picture it. For the fate of the world, Livia had to find someone to love, but I couldn't bear the thought of it being someone else because I'd failed to tell her how I felt. If she rejected me after hearing me out, that would be one thing, but to always wonder if she might have said yes? That I could not abide, and my mother and I both knew it. In the end, I couldn't force words to agree or disagree from my mouth, but my mother could tell what I was thinking anyways.
"...Take the Journals with you, Leon," advised Luce. "They'll help you explain better than anything else when the moment comes."
"...If the moment comes," I argued, but winced at the flat look my mother countered with. "...Okay fine, when the moment comes."
"...I know you're afraid of what they might say in regards to being a Reincarnate from another world," replied Luce. "As much as I would wish to say that there would be no impact from telling them, we both know that's not true, and neither of us can completely predict how they'll react. But I know you, son: You will regret it if you never tell them how you feel."
"...You're right, but what if I lose them?" I asked quietly. "...I've never felt like this before, in this life or my previous-"
"Leon, if you stay true to who you are, you won't 'lose them'," interrupted my mother, embracing me in a reassuring hug. "Even if by some chance you being a reincarnated soul is something that they cannot move past, you have been a trusted friend and companion to them. Your bond will be strong enough to survive that much, at the very least."
In spite of the uncertainty I still felt, her words worked wonders to reassure me. Yes, it would be a leap of faith to tell them everything, and I certainly didn't feel ready to take that leap yet. Still, when I was ready, I would make that step forward, no matter how terrifying. Until that moment came, it was nice to know that I had my family's support.
"Are you sure it's a good idea, Erik?" I asked skeptically. "I'm not sure that you noticed, but I've kind of managed to piss off the entire school with that stunt in the Arena, so I doubt that a cafe run by the infamous Bartfort Bastard would be too terribly well-received."
My brief reunion with Livia was cut short the moment I set foot inside the gates of the Academy again. Erik Fou Fairfax, my self-proclaimed apprentice turned casual friend, had immediately approached me about running an official Belmont Cafe during the upcoming Festival event. To be honest, if I'd needed the extra cash flow, I'd have gone along with the idea without a second thought, current reputation be damned. That being said, between the results of Gala, the Duel, and my subsequent Promotion, I figured that it might be a good idea to let the rest of the student body "calm down" before making more waves. Besides, managing a cafe would take time away from training Livia and the Five Heirs, to say nothing of hunting down the Saintess' Holy Relics, and time was certainly not on our side. Still, it cost me nothing to hear Erik out, at the very least, and as one of the very few people who didn't despise me right now, I didn't want to let him down.
"You'd be surprised, Master Leon," countered Erik. "While you did cost the other students a great deal with the disaster that was the betting on that event, you presented quite the imposing figure during the duel and afterwards, which when combined with the Founding Heirs' support, makes most of the student body unsure of what to make of you. Why not confound them further by leaning into the announcement that you're responsible for Belmont Tea Company?"
"...Master Graves told you to tell me that just so I'd want to go along with this, didn't he?" I deduced quickly, giving Erik a flat look.
"...Is it working?" asked Erik with a grin, not even attempting to deny Master Graves' involvement.
"...Tell Master Graves that I'll do it," I sighed even as I smiled in exasperation. "I still think it won't be received well, even with the Belmont name attached to it, but I can't deny that it would be a good way to gauge my own reputation."
"There's the spirit, Master Leon," chuckled Erik. "Of course, I would be honored to assist you alongside Mister Durland and Mister Arkin-"
I lost focus on what Erik was saying as something else caught my eye. A handsome guy from the Upper Class had struck up a conversation with Livia. From his stance and body language, I could tell that he was interested in Livia. Livia, on the other hand, was decidedly not interested, if her polite smile and closed off stance were anything to judge by. Granted, I couldn't hear what the young noble was saying, but I was probably lining up to try and court Livia in earnest. My mouth moved before I could stop myself.
"...Who's that talking to Livia?" I asked Erik. "He seems familiar, but I can't quite place him."
"Him? That's Kurt Fou Rourke, first son of Viscount Rourke," blinked Erik, before glancing at me nervously. "...Leon, I'm sure that his intentions are-"
"Who said that I didn't trust his intentions?" I laughed, even as I felt an odd sort of twinge in my gut. "I just thought I'd go and say 'hi' and let Livia know that I'm going to go find Angie and Clarice."
"...If you say so, Master Leon…" replied Erik with a sigh. "I'll let Master Graves know, and then we can meet up with the others to discuss the details."
"Sounds good," I nodded. "Take care, Erik."
"Try not to break any bones," deadpanned Erik, glancing meaningfully at Kurt.
I laughed and waved him off before making my way to Livia's side, only realizing a moment later that Erik wasn't trying to make a joke. The ridiculousness of the situation made the thought even funnier. Besides, it was a good thing for Livia to make new friends, and if one such friend was someone who could make her happier than I could, then was it such a bad thing? I tried to tell myself that it wasn't, but the words turned to ash in my mind. I set the thought aside to unpack later, perhaps during my actual unpacking later on this evening, as the conversation between Kurt and Livia reached me.
"-truly, you were an absolute vision on the night of the Gala, Miss Olivia," continued Kurt. "I'd hoped to speak with you that evening, but circumstances naturally prevented it-"
"As I'm sure they also prevented you speaking to me prior to that night, of course," smiled Livia with an expression that I could not quite place.
"...Of course," faltered Kurt briefly before regaining his momentum. "...Truly, it was an error on my part, failing to speak to you prior to now; one that I hope we can correct."
I felt my jaw tense, even as some logical part of my brain argued that this was a good thing. Livia needed a lover to save us all, to unlock her full potential. Kurt was the primary heir of a Viscount, on top of being charming and handsome, and he'd be able to give Livia the life she deserved. And yet, a large part of me screamed in protest at the idea, and it was all that I could do to remain rooted to the spot and not interfere. Even still, her smile to Kurt seemed… off, somehow. Out of place on her face, in a way that I'd never seen before.
"Miss Olivia, if you would join me for tea this afternoon-" began Kurt.
"I'm honored and flattered by your invitation, but I'm afraid that I have a prior engagement, so I must decline," interrupted Livia, bowing her head with that smile that looked so unnatural on her.
"...I see," replied Kurt slowly. "With Lord Bartfort, I'm sure. A pity, but… should you prefer the company of a gentleman-"
"Actually, I was going to have lunch with Lady Angelica and Lady Clarice," interrupted Livia, causing Kurt to blink in surprise. "That being said, Leon has always been a gentleman to me, in all the ways that truly matter. Good day, Lord Rourke."
With that, Livia bowed her head once, turned on her heel, a far more natural smile on her face. In an instant, I figured out why her smiles to Kurt were so strange compared to when she smiled at me, Clarice, and Angie: She had to force her smiles with Kurt. Even as a part of me roared in triumph at being preferred, the logical part from before was left screaming "why?". Why would she prefer me to a well-mannered Viscount's son? Sure, we were friends and had known each other for much longer, but the man was handsome and loaded! Before I left, I caught Kurt's eye, and the two of us had a silent exchange expressing mutual befuddlement at Livia's actions. Upon seeing that I was as devoid of answers as he was, Kurt took his leave, and I turned to catch up with Livia.
"I didn't realize that you had lunch plans with-" I began.
"We didn't," interrupted Livia with a small smirk. "I just wanted to shut him up quickly so we could get out of there."
"...Ah," I articulated, clearing my throat briefly before smiling at Livia. "...Well, even if it was a fib at the moment, I'm sure Angie and Clarice would appreciate some 'Livia Time', so to speak, and then we can meet up for tea later on in the afternoon?"
"That sounds truly lovely, Leon," smiled Livia warmly.
"We continued along in silence, Livia smiling happily as she walked next to me, but I felt like every nerve of my body was reacting to her like a high voltage line. I swore she was generating a magnetic field that was compelling me to put my arm around her, and it took every fiber of my ever-fraying willpower to resist the urge. Even more vexing was the fact that I knew that my actions would not necessarily be unwelcome if I failed to resist; in fact, I might say that she'd welcome it. Still, even after talking with my mother, my emotions were still a fucking mess over Livia, Angie, and Clarice, and it wouldn't be fair to make a move until I could sort things out in my head. But… Did I really need to wait to figure that out? Maybe I was just overthinking this, since love is something that should be felt, not thought.
I shook myself from my thoughts as Livia ran ahead to greet Angie with a hug, which surprised me for a few reasons. Ariel and Carmen were absent, so they were not able to correct Livia on her impropriety. As a matter of fact, Angie was completely devoid of Followers in her immediate wake, which was bizarre. Furthermore, Angie did not chide Livia on her social misstep, not even gently; instead she caught the other girl's enthusiastic tackle-hug with equal fervor. Keeping my growing feelings of confusion to myself, I approached the two in order to greet Angie properly.
"A pleasure to see you again, Lady Angie," I bowed facetiously with a grin, to which Angie rolled her eyes even as she smiled widely at me. "I trust the journey back to the Academy was comfortable?"
"Fairly so, 'Lord Leon'," replied Angie with a smirk as she played off of my formally informal greeting. "I'm sure you have questions regarding my lack of entourage?"
"Certainly more than a few," I replied with a smirk of my own as I took up position on her left while Livia walked alongside her on the right. "I'm sure you can probably guess my most obvious one, but what happened to the rest of your Followers?"
"Still having conversations rather than assuming, I see," laughed Angie briefly before explaining. "Well, I'm sure you can imagine that my father was less than enthused by the behavior of my Followers during the whole ordeal, so naturally he reprimanded their parents, who in turn reprimanded them."
"As they should have been," I nodded with a vindictive smirk. "I'm sure that they humbly apologized, hoping that you would magnanimously forgive them for being spineless worms?"
"They did, and they certainly found no forgiveness forthcoming…" confirmed Angie with a slight glint in her eye. "I must admit that I was most disappointed in Ariel and Carmen for their lack of action, but you were spot on in your assessment of them."
"In fairness to Ariel, I think she's mostly just going along with what Carmen is doing," I observed. "Of the two of them, Carmen appears to be the one with the sharper mind and greater ambitions."
"Perhaps, but a Follower so easily influenced can quickly become a liability," countered Angie. "All it takes is the wrong influence, and soon you're betrayed from within."
"True enough," I nodded. "I guess that you don't have such fears with respect to myself and dearest Livia, then."
"Livia's moral compass is truly something to behold, and her unwavering will to keep to it sometimes strains belief," smiled Angie as Livia glanced away with a shy smile. "In your case, while your moral compass is somewhat more flexible, your willpower and steadfast commitment to stay true to your word more than sets me at ease."
"Oh, a 'flexible morality', eh?" I chuckled. "That's a polite way of calling me a rogue and scoundrel."
"As I suppose 'passionate and impetuous' would be a polite way of describing an impulsive and reckless individual, wouldn't you say?" countered Angie with a pointed look even as she smiled at me.
…Well, it appeared Cordelia and Angie had a few words when she returned back home before the break ended. In hindsight, that shouldn't have been a surprise, considering the maid was practically like a second mother to Angie. However, even though what I'd said had been decidedly positive, it provided a window into my thoughts and feelings that I wasn't sure that I was quite ready for Angie to be looking through yet, but at this point it couldn't be helped. At least she didn't seem to be offended by my words. I swallowed hard as I tried to recollect my thoughts.
"I suppose that it would," I hedged, causing Angie's smile to widen but she didn't comment further, already having proven her point.
"I presume that your own journeys back to the Academy were equally uneventful?" continued Angie as she granted me a little mercy.
"For the most part," laughed Livia. "Lord Rourke was trying to invite me to tea, but I told him that I'd be occupied with our Girl's Lunch."
"...Sorry, but I wasn't aware we had a Girl's Lunch planned," blinked Angie with a slightly bemused smile.
"We do now, if you and Clarice aren't doing anything else," replied Livia with a cheeky glint in her eye.
"...I can't think of anything I'd like more," replied Angie warmly, before giving me a raised eyebrow. "I blame your influence for this new mischievous streak of Livia's."
"Hey, I didn't teach her this!" I protested in spite of my grin. "She was this clever when I met her, I swear!"
"Her cleverness was never in doubt," laughed Angie gently. "Your influence would be the application of said cleverness in less innocent ways…"
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but a familiar set of fingers blocked my vision. I felt a jolt rush through my spine as I recognized the tangerine perfume and the sensation of the curves pressed against my back.
"Guess who?" breathed Clarice in a sultry tone that sent shivers up my spine.
"Hmm…" I pretended to think, even as I tried to keep my voice level and even. "Could it be a teasing flirt?"
"Only a 'teasing flirt'?!" gasped Clarice in mock affront as she uncovered my eyes. "I was certainly hoping to reach 'smoldering temptress', at the very least!"
"These things do take time," I grinned as I continued our banter, turning around to face her. "I'm sure that if you work at it, you'll become a 'red-haired succubus in human form' in no time!"
We both struggled to keep a straight face for a moment before bursting into laughter. Behind her, I could see Dan struggling to keep from smiling, with little success. His companion, an Atlee Follower I didn't recognize, seemed to be much more composed. Clarice then proceeded to hug me warmly, kissing me on the cheek before stepping back.
"It would appear that you're in good spirits, Clarice," laughed Angie from somewhere behind us.
"Certainly better now that you three are back," replied Clarice as she stepped forward to embrace Angie and Livia. "So what's this I hear about a 'Girl's Lunch'?"
"I'm afraid that Livia had to fib in order to drive off a more persistent suitor, but if the three of you go to lunch together, we may yet keep Livia's honor intact and still meet up for tea later this afternoon," I explained, giving Livia a teasing look and receiving a stuck-out tongue in return.
"Well, for Honor and Livia Time, then," grinned Clarice. "Your usual room after?"
"I'll be waiting," I confirmed with a smile.
Clarice winked at me before linking arms with Angie and Livia and leading the two girls away. I turned back to Dan and the other guy, giving a grin, only to feel it fall as the second Atlee follower turned and walked away without another word. I blinked briefly in confusion, certainly not expecting this sort of reaction from people who'd been on my side of the conflict prior to break. I glanced over at Dan to see him wince at his companion's reaction, clearly having expected something like it.
"...Okay, did I do something to piss him off?" I finally asked after a moment.
"Well… You did, but at the same time you didn't, and there's been a bit of a schism within our ranks as to which side is correct," explained Dan. "So, I'm sure you remember when you dressed down Jilk for his actions to Lady Clarice, yes?"
"Yeah, I remember, but what does that have to do with anything?" I asked with a frown.
"There are some members of Lady Clarice's Followers that believe that your mention of our Lady's misstep was a… well, a betrayal of confidence of sorts," explained Dan.
"...They do realize that everything I did, right down to the choice of song when fighting the first three, was sanctioned by Angie and Clarice before I even set foot in the arena, right?" I deadpanned.
"Not all of them did, apparently, and they still don't believe it even after Lady Clarice… Well, let's just say that she 'emphatically set the record straight' last night…" replied Dan.
"Ah…" I nodded. "I'm going to assume that this wasn't just a minor 'correction', then?"
"She stated, in no uncertain terms, that you were the 'greatest man she'd ever known', among other things that left very little doubt as to her feelings toward you," coughed Dan, clearly choosing to not elaborate any further.
"I imagine that the viewpoint of the other side is that I've somehow 'corrupted their perfect goddess'?" I guessed, to which Dan nodded grimly.
"Exactly so," sighed Dan. "Granted, it is only a handful of individuals that see things that way, but still-"
"I'll watch my back," I agreed. "Sometimes there's no reasoning with idiots."
"...Speaking of 'idiots'..." grumbled Dan as he looked over my shoulder.
I turned to follow Dan's gaze and saw all Five Heirs approaching, with Greg, Brad, and Julius calling out and waving at me upon getting my attention. I could feel the tense irritation from Dan as he stared at Jilk in anger, the older boy still harboring a grudge against Jilk for his actions toward Clarice. He cleared his throat a moment later, his voice measured and even in spite of the circumstances.
"Forgive me, Leon, but I'm afraid that I still find myself ill-prepared to control my temper around those five, so if I might-" began Dan.
"No worries," I confirmed, patting the man on the back. "We'll catch up later."
Dan nodded gratefully before making a swift exit. Frankly, I couldn't blame the guy. While I'd gained a better understanding of Jilk's mindset during the duel, I couldn't say that I was terribly fond of the man either. Still, he was a good friend to Julius, so I'd tolerate him, at the very least, for the sake of my friendship with the other Heirs. Greg and Julius reached me first, embracing me like a lost brother with wide grins, while Brad and Jilk gave much more subdued nods of greeting. Even Chris gave a brief nod, which was far more than I was expecting from him.
"Good to see you again, Leon," greeted Julius. "We were hoping to grab lunch with you before you get stuck with unpacking, but before that, Chris had something he wanted to say."
"...I see," I replied hesitantly.
"Don't worry, man," chuckled Greg. "He gave his word that he wouldn't pick a fight, and he knows we'll all kick his ass if he tries."
"Greg, if it was foolish to fight Lord Bartfort with your help, then it would be twice as foolish to fight against the five of you together," interjected Chris with a rueful smile to me.
We took a moment to laugh at the exceptionally rare joke from Chris, which honestly helped lower my guard almost entirely. I knew that there was at least some grudging respect from the man, given what Duke Redgrave had told me, but this was beyond my expectations. I'd thought that it would have been like pulling teeth to get Chris to agree to train with me and the others, but now it appeared that I'd just need to ask. Chris approached me directly, stopping a few feet away before bowing formally.
"Lord Bartfort, I wish to formally apologize for my dishonorable actions during our duel," apologized Chris. "In my anger, I moved to strike you in the back, forgetting my honor and chivalry, which is inexcusable. How may I make amends?"
"...Well, to start, I'd say making sure that you don't shout at your enemy before going for that kind of strike, unless you want to make yourself a target so your ally can get away," I chuckled nervously, unsure how to deal with this new side of Chris. "In all fairness, that was a lopsided brawl, at best, if not a battlefield skirmish, and I hope that you wouldn't give that kind of ground to an enemy soldier that would be capable of killing your friends."
The silence that stretched on after my reply was… uncomfortable, to say the least. Chris couldn't have been more bewildered and disbelieving if I'd told him that one plus one had always been ten, but at least he didn't appear to be on the verge of an aneurysm. Meanwhile, I silently worried that I might have pressed whatever goodwill I had with the man too far. Eventually, I decided that, if a working relationship with Chris was going to work long-term, I needed to be direct and honest with the man.
"...So, in order to make amends for dishonoring myself by stabbing you in the back, you wish for me to stab you in the back better?" asked Chris, once he was able to find his voice again.
"...Honor and chivalry in a one-on-one duel is admirable," I began carefully. "And cheating during a practice meant to raise your skills will only cheat you out of experience, in the end. But, in an all-out fight like our little brawl, I would hope that you can set all of that aside for the lives of you and your friends. Honor and chivalry are not worth empty chairs at the table."
For another long moment, nothing was said. To his credit, Chris did seem to actually consider my words, even if he hated what I was suggesting on the surface. I could see the rest of the group also taking a moment to think about what I'd said as well. Chris finally heaved a heavy sigh, seeming unable to find a good rebuttal to my words as he turned to the other four Heirs.
"If I might have a word with Lord Bartfort, gentlemen?" asked Chris. "...Privately?"
"...As long as you-" began Julius.
"Julius, we've already established how foolish it was to fight Bartfort as a group," interrupted Chris in exasperation. "I give my word that I will not start a fight, if that helps."
"...Pub opens in thirty minutes, and it's a twenty minute walk from here," reminded Julius. "Marie said they'll run out of seats quickly, so we'll want to get there sooner rather than later."
With that, Julius led the rest of the group away, with only Greg giving me a reassuring pat on the back. For a moment, Chris and I stared in silence. The swordsman let out a long sigh, clearly taking time to gather his thoughts before speaking.
"...I don't understand you, Bartfort," admitted Chris grumpily.
…Okay, that's…not where I expected him to go with this.
"You don't 'understand me'?" I repeated, trying to piece together what he could possibly mean.
"What are you, Bartfort?!" snapped Chris, finally reaching a limit on his patience. "One minute, you're the textbook version of a fairytale knight, and then the next minute you're a complete and total rapscallion!"
"...Yes… Yes, I am…" I blinked slowly. "...That matters to you?"
"...Yes, it does," admitted Chris as he regained a bit more control. "...All I've ever wanted was to live up to my family's legacy. The Arclights have been Sword Saints and honorable knights since the Kingdom was founded, and while I've prided myself on my chivalric honor, my sword skills have… plateaued. My father's disappointment shows through every time he and I spar, and some days it's more than I can bear. Marie helped me find peace with that, and I cannot thank her enough for her help, but then there's you."
"Me?" I frowned in confusion. "I know the nicknames were a bit much, but-"
"No, not the damn nicknames, Bartfort," chuckled Chris mirthlessly. "Just how you seemed to be a stone's throw from my lifelong goal and were squandering it. You walked in like the perfect picture of everything a knight should be, and then proceeded to make a spectacle of yourself more appropriate to a patron of a seedy tavern than an honorable knight. In retrospect, I can see that was the entire point of the display, in order to keep Angelica from acting rashly, but at the time it rankled with me to see you disrespecting the ideal of my ambition when you were so close to achieving it for yourself. It did start as a simple irritation, but then Greg came back from your dungeon dive and enthusiastically praised your skill, pouring salt into the proverbial wound of my own plateau, and so my displeasure deepened."
"...Ah," I articulated. "...Yes, I suppose I can see how that might've rubbed you the wrong way."
"Indeed," nodded Chris. "Your flippant attitude during the Challenge alongside those foolish nicknames certainly fanned the flames on that irritation until it flared into actual anger. It felt like you were making a mockery of everything it was to be a knight, and I took that quite personally."
"It certainly showed in the fight," I agreed. "Granted, that was kind of the point of aggravating you ahead of the battle, but I had no idea that it would have been that effective."
"Well, I would classify it as 'catastrophically effective', as I forgot any sense of honor and attempted a strike to your back in a formal duel…" sighed Chris with a note of sincere regret.
"-Again, 'brawl', not 'duel'," I corrected, not unkindly as the young man looked up in surprise. "If that was an actual fight against an opponent like the Black Knight, I would absolutely advocate attacking an unprepared opponent in the back because the lives of the people you care about are not worth any amount of honor."
"But that's not the way that a knight should behave," argued Chris. "And yet, for all the taunting prior to the battle, you conducted yourself with honor, even giving constructive criticism to me and Greg. And you only fought that duel- alright, brawl… for Lady Redgrave and Lady Atlee. So what are you, Bartfort? Are you Knight or Knave?"
That really was the question on the entire kingdom's mind, wasn't it? Was I Hero or Villain? Saint or Scoundrel? Knight or Knave? I'd given King Roland an answer on the spot when he'd asked me something similar, and since then I'd taken a bit more time to elaborate on the answer.
"I'm certainly not a knight, regardless of what anyone else says," I began, giving a pointed look in the direction of our friends, to which the swordsman snorted in amusement before he could stop himself. "That being said, I'm not a complete bastard either. I really do think that Liza put it best when she called me a 'scoundrel' when she met me last semester. I have my own principles that I stand by, but I am willing to stand against what the world says when I deem it necessary."
"When someone you care for is in trouble, I expect," nodded Chris. "And you do care for Lady Redgrave and Lady Atlee, so I can see how that would have shaped your actions. Still, your actions there are more in line with a chivalrous knight than a 'scoundrel' like you claim."
"I suppose, but can you honestly call me a truly chivalrous knight when you look at every single action I've taken?" I asked with a wry grin.
"...Touche," smirked Chris finally. "...I'll admit, I still don't like you, Bartfort, but I'll reserve judgment, and if that offer to drag me 'kicking and screaming' to your skill level is genuine, I humbly accept."
"Great! Be ready to weep!" I quipped, to which Chris rolled his eyes. "We'll be training to survive the end of the world!"
"...Surely you must be joking," blinked Chris when my words finally sunk in.
"Sadly not…" I replied, deadpan before indulging in another inside joke. "And don't call me 'Shirley'..."
"...I already regret my decision, but I'll trust your word that it'll be worth it in the end," sighed Chris with a rueful smile as we made our way back to the main group.
Thankfully, Chris was still not taking me seriously. I wasn't sure that I could handle another heavy conversation so soon. While I knew that there was little time to waste on frivolous things, I was looking forward to the festival just to let myself relax. There'd be time enough for hunting Relics and training Livia and the Five Heirs. Besides, how crazy could a school festival get?