*Complains about Horizontal Lines not translating in FanFiction's import feature* *Proceeds to have a chapter with another eight section breaks with perspective shifts...* ...Yeah, I kind of brought that suffering on myself... Anyhow, here's the next chapter!
"Please marry me!" begged yet another young noble as he fell at Mylene's feet.
"And that's five," I chuckled quietly. "...In an hour… For the fifth time…"
"Oh, you hush…" blushed Mylene, in spite of the pleased smile on her face.
In the end, I'd been wrong about my earlier estimate to the Queen about how many marriage proposals she'd receive when disguised as a student. We'd been walking around the festival for only an hour when we'd already had to turn away the five suitors that I'd anticipated, and that was without counting Erik's stunned proposal upon seeing the Queen in the uniform before we'd left for the festival. Now an additional four hours later, we'd turned away five times my original estimate. Mylene cleared her throat in order to turn away this most recent suitor.
"...Young man, I'm flattered by your proposal, but I'm thirty-" Mylene began to explain for the fifth time in an hour.
"...You're gorgeous and graceful and even kind…" murmured the boy, completely spellbound. "I'll do what I have to be worthy-"
"Dude, do you really not recognize her?" I whispered to the hapless student, stepping in close so as to avoid being overheard. "She's the Queen…"
The young man froze for a moment, looked carefully at the Queen as his eyes sparked with recognition before turning to me again.
"...Do you think I'd have a chance to be her lover?" asked the guy quietly.
"Hey, don't ask me," I shrugged. "Still, we need to get going since the next airbike race will be starting soon."
"...Right, of course…" sighed the young man before turning to Mylene and kissing the back of her hand. "Please enjoy the race, my lady…"
Mylene tried to respond, but no words came to her lips as she blushed heavily. Livia patted her arm in sympathy, clearly knowing how she felt all too well. She'd stuck close to the Queen during our time wandering the festival, the two of them building off the other's excitement to explore each new attraction. Clarice had briefly joked that Livia was using the Queen as a proverbial "lightning rod of romance", but we'd all laughed that idea off for its ridiculousness. No, it was much more likely that Livia was providing support to the Queen in her own way, and it was honestly quite heartwarming to see.
"It does get easier over time," reassured Livia as she patted the Queen's arm sympathetically. "The nice ones are the hardest, though."
"...I suppose it makes sense that you'd have many suitors for yourself, dear, but to reject them all?" mused Mylene briefly. "Not many women in your position would have your resolve."
"All the handsome suitors in the world fall short of the right one when you've found him, ma'am," blushed Livia.
"Oh, indeed?" smiled Mylene knowingly. "Well, best of luck with that 'right one', then…"
I pretended to not hear the conversation so that I wouldn't embarrass Livia further or scare her off, but I was suddenly feeling a great deal more optimistic about my chances when I finally revealed the truth to the three of them following the festival. Granted, it could still go horribly wrong if they felt betrayed by the depth of my knowledge of this world prior to meeting them, but maybe the positive feelings they had for me would give me an edge?
"Oh, I doubt she'll need luck, ma'am," chuckled Erik as he glanced wryly at Livia. "Only a complete fool would reject her affections. Still, I am hoping for the best possible outcome for her."
We moved quickly to get to the observation deck at the airbike stadium where Angie and Clarice would already be waiting. Since Dan and a few of her other Followers had been set to compete in the tournament, Clarice had broken off from the group a few hours ago to show her support, taking Angie with her, but now with the semifinal race about to start, we'd all reconvene in the observation deck so that Mylene could watch the last few races. A voice that I'd been dreading called out to me, and I braced myself for the conversation that I had anticipated since I issued my "Order 66".
"Mister Bartfort!" called out Master Graves from somewhere behind me. "Glad to have found you. Mister Durland and his fiancee said that you had taken the morning off."
"Yes, sorry Master Graves, but there was a bit of a… shall we say 'change in circumstances' that dictated that I be elsewhere," I explained.
Master Graves gave me a very careful look before catching sight of the Queen in her borrowed Academy uniform.
"...Ah, Lady Mylene," bowed Master Graves. "A pleasure to see you again, but I must confess my consternation at my best student being pulled from his post-"
"Sorry Uncle Lucas, but I-" blurted Mylene before slapping a hand to her mouth.
…I'm sorry, but Uncle Lucas?! I blinked as I tried to process this new information, but I could feel my mind stall in shock at the unintended revelation. Erik was nearly catatonic at the news, with Livia only fairing a little better. The older gentleman simply sighed and shook his head, as though expecting something like this. Eventually, I recovered enough to speak.
"...Your name isn't actually 'Thaddeus Graves', is it?" I deduced, turning to the man that served as my etiquette instructor.
"A necessary deception, I'm afraid, Mister Bartfort, if I was to retire with any sort of anonymity," replied the man I knew as Thaddeus Graves. "I hope you can forgive an old man his secrets?"
"To maintain a quiet retirement after a lifetime of renown?" I chuckled knowingly. "Certainly, I can do that. Since Mylene is from Lepart, I would presume that you would be King Roland's uncle?"
"Well deduced, Mister Bartfort," nodded Lucas- no, Master Graves, sorry but he's always going to be "Master Graves" in my head. "I was known as Lucas Rapha Holfort in my adventuring days, but I felt it best to take on my alias of 'Thaddeus Graves' as I hoped to enjoy my quiet retirement from active adventuring."
"...You'll still be Mister Thaddeus to me," pouted Livia adorably, her arms crossed in defiance.
"I believe that I shall be able to live with that concession," chuckled Master Graves.
Livia pouted for just a moment more before moving forward and giving Master Graves a brief hug, her usual smile back on her face. Master Graves returned the smile and the gesture before turning to me, his expression sobering to something more serious.
"Now, to the matter I approached you for, I heard that you removed your only customers yesterday at gunpoint, Mister Bartfort. Is this true?" asked Master Graves rather sternly.
"Yes sir, I did," I confirmed unrepentantly.
"...And may I ask why you deemed such a measure necessary?" asked Master Graves, a single eyebrow rising questioningly.
"When they had the audacity to demean Angie, Livia, and Clarice in my presence, they ceased to be 'unruly customers' and became little better than dumb beasts inflicting themselves on civilized society," I explained. "I simply communicated to them, in the only way that they'd understand, how unwelcome they were in said society."
I braced myself for the reprimand that I'd been expecting since yesterday, but I didn't care about any of it. The only thing that I would have done differently would be to step in the moment Offrey dared to say a cruel word to Angie and Clarice. Master Graves considered me for a long moment before sighing heavily.
"I cannot say that I fully condone the severity of your actions, but I can understand what caused them," conceded Master Graves with a sigh. "Your motives were just, even if your execution was… overzealous… All I would ask is that you be a little more measured with your responses in the future."
"As someone who was present for what happened yesterday, I would say that Lord Bartfort's response was actually quite lenient under the circumstances," countered Mylene suddenly.
"...Indeed? Well then, nothing more needs to be said on the matter," replied Master Graves with a faint smile. "Best to be on your way, then, as the race will be starting soon."
With that, we parted ways, with about ten minutes before the race. As we rushed to make our way to the observation deck of the main building, I wondered about the interplay between Master Graves and Mylene. It seemed as though they might have been… well, aware… of Livia's status as the next Saintess, but if that was true, then why was Livia so alone in the Upper Class when the school year started? I decided to put a pin in that for later, hoping that we'd not encounter yet another delay before reaching the observation deck where Angie and Clarice were waiting-
"Excuse me, Lord Bartfort, but I must insist on speaking with you!" declared an imperious voice.
…Yep… There we go… My luck continues to remain consistent, at least…
I turned to look at who had spoken to me to find a blonde noble girl with a rose pink parasol and hand fan. Her uniform blazer seemed to have been tailored to accommodate her…considerable bust, and even a skirt one size larger was unable to completely conceal the plush curves of her shapely behind. However, more importantly, she appeared to be lightly armed with a stiletto dagger concealed in a sheathe along her left thigh and a small two-shot pistol in her right blazer pocket. If I'd never met or gotten involved with Livia or Angie or Clarice, this girl would have been undeniably my type, aside from that rather proud tone she had when speaking. As it was, I could see that she was quite beautiful, acknowledge it, and then move on to the rest of the conversation. …Wait, was this how Danny felt when he saw Livia, Angie, and Clarice the other day? …A thought for another time, as the girl was waiting for a response.
"...Can I help you…?" I asked in a carefully neutral tone.
"As I've spent the last fifteen minutes hunting you down after leaving your cafe, I would hope so," replied the noble girl just as carefully, snapping open her hand fan. "I had hoped to speak with you yesterday, but the entire corridor to your cafe was closed off for the first half of the day, and when I returned that afternoon, I found that you'd closed down for the day!"
"Ah yes, you can thank Stephanie Fou Offrey for that nonsense," I grimaced in spite of my caution towards this girl. "She took my victory in the arena rather personally, and we then decided to shut down early rather than borrow more trouble."
"...Regrettable, yet understandable," nodded the girl. "Still, I imagine your combat golems would have been more than up to the task."
…Had word about the droids spread that quickly? …No, this girl seems to be remarkably well-informed…
"...Perhaps they would have been, but morale was rather low, so I decided to approach it fresh today," I explained carefully.
"And yet, when I arrived at the cafe today, I spent three hours enjoying various perfectly-brewed Belmont teas alongside carefully-paired snacks and sweets, all in a truly Holfortian tea room, in every sense, but you were nowhere to be found," accused the noble girl with a raised eyebrow. "When I asked Liza, she explained that you were among the stalls today, but was unable to elaborate further."
Wait a moment… "Liza"? Only those that are close to her would call Eliza "Liza"- …Oh, of course-
"...Ah, you must be 'Miss Dee'," I concluded with a smile, relaxing as I realized who I was speaking with. "A pleasure to finally meet you after all that Liza has told me."
"Likewise, Lord Bartfort," smiled Deidre Fou Roseblade. "Although, I must express my frustration at having been unable to speak to you before now. While I can understand that other matters may have occupied your time, I hope you can understand my vexation at being unable to speak with the man that my childhood friend has shared such interesting stories about."
"Allow me to offer sincere apologies on the matter," I replied with a slight bow of my head, grinning in spite of myself. "Truly, it was not my intention to have become so occupied, but sometimes fate intervenes."
"That it does," nodded Deidre before raising an eyebrow. "You appear to be quite pleased with how fate intervened in your situation, though…"
"...I am, yes," I replied honestly, giving Livia a fond glance.
"...I see…" sighed Deidre, acknowledging my nonverbal answer to her unspoken question even as her disappointment broke through the social mask that was her public persona. "...Again, understandable yet regrettable-"
"If it's not too bold a suggestion, Lady Roseblade, perhaps you might be interested in joining us for tea sometime?" interjected Livia with a shy smile.
I blinked in surprise as I glanced at Livia. …Did she not realize what Deidre's intentions had been- no, Livia knew what Deidre wanted. She'd spent enough time with Angie and Clarice to understand the unspoken conversation between Deidre and myself, so then why would she invite Deidre? I glanced back at Deidre to see that she was just as confused and off-balance as I was, clearly trying to make sense of Livia.
"Are you certain that would be… welcome?" asked Deidre carefully. "...I would not wish to impose-"
"Nonsense, it would be lovely to have you along!" dismissed Livia with a warm smile before giving Deidre a meaningful look. "There's plenty of room in Leon's tea room for those who truly and honestly wish to be there…"
I turned to look at Mylene out of desperation for some sort of explanation for this sudden turn of events, but I found my bewilderment mirrored on her face as well. Was Livia… hitting on Deidre? Glancing back at Livia, I could see her giving me a look that was equal parts reassurance and…love? Deciding to compartmentalize before I had the mental equivalent of the Blue Screen of Death, I turned back to Deidre to get her take on the situation. The blonde noble girl considered Livia's words quietly, an odd mix of confusion, shock, relief, and even gratitude crossing her face. Deidre then spoke up, addressing me directly.
"I suppose if Lord Bartfort has no objections…" replied Deidre carefully, although I thought I could see a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"...Please call me 'Leon'," I smiled. "We would be honored if you would join us."
"I would be delighted," smiled Deidre, curtseying briefly. "Until then… Leon."
With that, Deidre turned away while I tried to process everything that had happened in the last two and a half minutes or so. After a minute of failed attempts, I finally decided to simply deal with it later when I had a quiet moment. Behind me, I could hear Mylene asking Livia questions, and I didn't need to be able to make out what they were saying to know that the Queen was asking Livia what the hell just happened. However, in hindsight, it would have been nice to understand why Livia's answer sent the Queen into near-hysterical laughter while Livia hid behind her hands, blushing profusely.
In the end, the three of us barely managed to get to the observation deck before the race started. Naturally, since Livia was still blushing beet-red and Mylene was still giggling almost to the point of getting the hiccups, Clarice and Angie had more than a few questions. After determining that I knew little more than they did, the two of them quickly pulled Livia to the side to explain, leaving me to sit beside the Queen. From the other two girls' expressions, I could tell exactly what Livia was explaining at a given moment; concerned frowns for Deidre's approach, confusion at Livia inviting Deidre to tea with us, and then finally whatever she told Mylene to send her into hysterics. Clarice's reaction ended up being similar to Mylene's, breaking out into honest laughter, while Angie gave Livia an exasperated smile, sighing heavily even as she laughed a little. Even though I wanted to know exactly what Livia had said to get such a response, I took comfort in the fact that Angie and Clarice weren't opposed to the idea of having tea with Deidre.
After the first lap finished with Jilk far ahead of all of his competition, I decided that our current seating arrangements were perfect to talk to the Queen about the Bastards, and to get her permission to form the group. Being totally honest, while I doubted that Roland would leave me hanging in the wind, I was uncertain as to how well his permission would hold up with the rest of the Noble Court when confronted on it later.
"...So, I asked your husband and got his approval, but… well, I figured that it might be best to confirm it with you as well-" I began carefully.
"You mean the Private Security Company composed of Armors?" asked Mylene with a sideways glance. "Roland did mention it when he finally took a break from that infernal machine that you gifted him, but he was rather light on the details. Julius and Marie were infinitely more helpful in that regard, but I would still have a few questions for you. I take it that you've anticipated the need for such an armed force?"
"...Oh…" I articulated, blinking at how quickly Mylene went from blushing beauty to stone-cold monarch in a heartbeat. "...Well, yes, I have. I'm sure you've taken note of the rapidly deteriorating relations with Fanoss, plus the constant border skirmishes with the Holy Kingdom of Raschel haven't helped any, either."
"I've been monitoring both situations for quite some time now," nodded Mylene, clearly taking to the sales pitch that I'd initially prepared for her husband even better than I could possibly have hoped for. "Raschel has always been a problem, and their arrogance and disdain for our nation in combination with the rising border skirmishes would be reason enough on its own to tentatively approve the action. The spiraling situation with Fanoss is an even bigger reason to support your efforts, Baron Bartfort, but I'm afraid that I cannot officially provide support due to court politics-"
"Fears of a rural Baron amassing power, yes?" I guessed, to which the Queen nodded. "I figured that I wouldn't be able to get official backing for this action until it'd be too late to implement it, so that's why I'm recruiting in secret for now. I've managed to get sixteen candidates so far, but it won't be nearly enough."
"...You're already recruiting?" blinked Mylene. "But how- …those damned machines that you offered up… they're recruiting tools?"
"Disguised as entertainment for the masses," I confirmed with a brief nod as Mylene connected the dots. "Each one has a very strict scoring system to evaluate a pilot's capabilities, but even with distributing a hundred across all territories across the Kingdom, the last pilot to pass selection was before the semester began."
"And only sixteen in total?" confirmed Mylene, to which I nodded. "If they were even as skilled as our elite pilots in our finest Armors, that would not be nearly sufficient, but I get the feeling that the Armors they'll be using are more in line with the one you used to duel my son?"
"And the pilots will be just as good or even better than the King himself," I grinned. "A few are even better than myself, so we'd be fine if the Principality came at us with conventional warfare."
"...I sense that you have reason to believe they won't…" frowned Mylene.
"...My Familiar has determined that there's some sort of artifact that the Principality has found," I admitted. "The nature of the artifact is being kept as some sort of state secret, but I can only assume that it's some sort of game-changing weapon since the forges of Fanoss have gone into high production."
"...the scenarios in that infernal machine that you've given my son and husband are not just fantasy…" stated Mylene, putting together what I wasn't saying.
"...Each is a possibility calculated by Luxion and taken to the worst case scenario," I admitted. "We might be able to survive if we have some form of 'ace' up our sleeves-"
"-like the Saintess?" asked Mylene knowingly. "...Lucas had his suspicions from the beginning, and taken with what the Seberg heir was able to observe with his own eyes, it's easy to see that she's the next Saintess candidate… A fact that you have clearly been aware of for some time…"
…Well, that certainly addressed the matter of whether Master Graves and Mylene were aware of Livia's status as the Saintess. For a brief moment, I wondered why Livia had been so alone from the very first day of the Academy if the Royal Family knew how important she was when it suddenly hit me: They'd thought it was being handled. Julius had been wandering around outside of the auditorium on that first day when he'd been slapped, but I'd never considered the reason why, since I'd simply rationalized it as part of the game's writing, but that didn't hold well when considering that the world wasn't scripted.
The reason why Julius was set on a collision course with Livia was because he was a teenager following a chore set forward by his parents, no different than being asked to take trash to the curb or mow the lawn. Of course, being a teenager set to do a chore he didn't want to do, Julius would have been petulant, and thus the actual reason for The Slap, but then Marie intervened. The Royal Family had no reason to suspect anything was wrong until the matter of the Duel came about, and by that point I'd handled the matter so thoroughly that there was no need to intervene further. I shook myself from my internal musings to respond to Mylene.
"...When she's capable of stopping rifle rounds that can kill an Armor and she doesn't break a sweat, yeah, it's hard to not be aware of her potential," I sighed. "Still, even if we can recover all the Relics of the Saintess, I worry that it may not be enough, even with the Kingdom's last ace."
"...You know the Kingdom's secret weapon?" asked Mylene incredulously.
"I know that there is a secret weapon, but I don't know what it is exactly," I replied. "I also know that it's not my place to know the details of it, unless your Majesty decides otherwise. In the end, it's a moot point, as I am simply preparing for the worst case scenario where everything has failed anyhow, so that the nation of Holfort and her people may continue somewhere else."
Mylene nodded gravely, clearly understanding what I was getting at. It was better to run and live elsewhere, as any good monarch would understand, and Mylene was incredibly shrewd. After a moment of careful consideration, the Queen spoke up.
"The only thing that I don't understand is why you simply didn't request to form this force as a part of your own militia," frowned Mylene. "You do realize that such forces would be within your remit as a fully-fledged Baron, and would be expected of your rank to fulfill your duties to the Kingdom."
"...Well, you're not wrong, and for this situation, that would be a viable solution, but what about the next world-ending threat?" I countered.
"...You fear that there will be another one?" blinked Mylene.
"It would be naive to assume that there's only one world-ending threat out there," I replied earnestly. "We live amongst the bones of a highly-advanced civilization, so there's bound to be future threats. It would also be the height of arrogance to assume that they will only ever start within Holfort's borders. A private security company is not tied to the chain of command of a single nation, and so could stop a problem before the nations of the world would, or even could."
"...And you don't fear that the morality of such an organization might slip over time?" countered Mylene pointedly.
"It would be a risk if we didn't have Luxion acting as our moral compass," I chuckled. "However, I've given him a standing order to not allow the group to be used for conquest or personal gain, and he will continue on that path long after I am dead. He'd destroy himself and all of the Old World tech before he'd allow it to be abused."
"You've clearly given all of this considerable thought, then," nodded Mylene. "I'll have the official authorization for your little group prepared in private and back-date it to before you distributed the machines, since that's when Roland would have given his permission. I do have one request for you, but I feel that you'd accomplish the task regardless of what I say."
"Of course," I nodded, extremely grateful to Mylene's cooperation.
"I want you to continue to stay by Olivia's side and act as a shield from the Upper Class at the Academy," explained Mylene. "I shudder to think of what might have happened if our future Saintess had continued to be bullied and tormented to oblivion, and I cannot thank you enough for the intervention you provided, however unknowingly."
"Livia just needed a helping hand and someone to watch her back," I deflected. "Still, you're right; I will continue to watch her back, and I won't apologize if I step on a few toes to do that."
"I thought so," smiled Mylene knowingly. "Still, I want you to know that you have royal authority to… shall we say 'break'... a few of those toes when you deem it necessary."
"...I see…" I blinked briefly, taken aback by the level of authority I was being given. "...And what I did to Offrey yesterday… What would that be considered?"
"I'd have barely counted that as a proverbial 'bruise'…" replied Mylene with a particularly vindictive glint. "And that was before I spent today being charmed by Miss Olivia…"
"Even before you knew her?" I asked before I could stop myself.
"Lord Leon, if there's any chance that Miss Olivia might choose to defect to another Kingdom, that would need to be remedied immediately," explained Mylene emphatically. "Of course, we'd anticipated some friction with the noble students, but I'd instructed Julius to be on the lookout for her, so we naively assumed the matter to be handled. Sadly, we know how that ended up turning out…"
"Right…" I nodded, taking a little satisfaction at being correct in my earlier musings. "So anyone tries to give her hell, just Return-to-Sender?"
"An unusual way of putting it, but yes," confirmed Mylene with a smile.
"Sorry, it's an Old Human expression," I apologized, once again cursing myself for yet another slip in regards to my previous life.
"Really?" frowned Mylene. "How odd. It sounds like something Erica might say, but I don't think she's read any books on the Old Humans you've mentioned-"
A scream rose up through the crowd, breaking our conversation in an instant. I could see Jilk struggling to remain upright as he crossed the finish line, his airbike swerving and jittering as it slowly descended without losing any forward momentum. I could see Marie screaming from the spectator stands, barely restrained by the combined efforts of Julius and Greg. I could feel myself barking orders to Luxion, watching as two of my combat drones leapt over the railings, activated their jet capabilities to reach Jilk, and evacuate him from the doomed bike. Clarice's hand flew to her mouth, horrified. My drones had him in hand and were carefully helping him to the ground as the field medics applied first aid to stabilize him. Honestly, in the wake of the moment, there was only one thing that I could say.
"...Fuck…"
"How bad is it, Lux?" I asked, grimacing to myself as one of my medical androids finished stabilizing Jilk's injuries.
"Compound fracture in his left arm, spiral fracture in his right leg, multiple minor cranial and orbital fractures, three ribs broken, two more with hairline fractures, to say nothing of the cuts and bruises," concluded Luxion. "With contemporary medicine, he'd need the services of a healer for the next three months to have a hope of a full recovery. Even Miss Olivia would require a full day of healing him to exhaustion to repair all the damage. As it stands, the medical pod aboard the Razor's Crest should have him up and walking again within the next five hours if we can relocate him soon."
"So no way in hell he's flying in that next race," I mused, knowing that we only had an hour and a half before the next race began. "...Dammit, this isn't good. We'll need to find a backup pilot for the event."
We'd managed to get Jilk into a makeshift field hospital near the stadium without much fuss. Marie had been inconsolable until she saw my androids carry Jilk carefully from the field, at which point she calmed down enough to let the rest of the Heirs care for her. Mylene, for her part, wasn't too much better, given that Jilk was her foster son. I almost slapped myself for forgetting that little detail when Mylene officially "told" me, but thankfully for my cover, it was a fact that wasn't widely known to the public. Still, after writing an entire journal on the subject of the game, it rankled that I'd missed such a critical detail, even if knowing it would have put the secrecy of my Reincarnate status at risk.
"Gods above…" whispered Mylene, her voice shaking. "Without your aide, he might have been crippled for life… I just…"
Without thinking, I pulled the Queen into a comforting hug, letting her weep into my shoulder. Once again, I gave a quick glance over to the girls to make sure that I wasn't breaking a boundary, only to find Livia rushing in to embrace the Queen as well. I blinked in confusion for a moment, quickly glancing at Angie and Clarice to find them equally baffled before simply accepting it and patting Mylene's shoulder comfortingly.
"...Forgive me for losing my composure, Leon," apologized Mylene, briefly sniffling as she dried her eyes with my offered handkerchief. "I cannot even begin to thank you for the aide you've provided to Jilk-"
"You have nothing to apologize for, Mylene," I replied gently. "A mother, whether by bond or by blood, who stands by her injured son's bed without distress can hardly be called a mother at all, so never apologize for that. As for the aid I've provided, the life of a friend hung in the balance, simple as that."
"...I believe I now see why the people you are close to think so highly of you, Leon…" smiled Mylene warmly, giving a knowing glance to the girls even as she blushed slightly.
…Well, that was a complication I didn't need, but at least I could compartmentalize it. Mylene seemed to be aware enough that there was something more blossoming between the girls and myself, and seemed to be considerate enough to not want to trample anything for the sake of her own feelings. Even still, I wasn't blind, nor was I naive enough to believe that Mylene was blushing for any other reason besides some form of attraction to me, as arrogant as it felt in my head to think that. I shook the thoughts from my head as Livia spoke up.
"He really is amazing, for as much as he protests to be a scoundrel," grinned Livia cheekily, her eyes sparkling in a way that made my heart flip in my chest even as I fought the desire to step forward and steal that smirk from her lips with a kiss.
"I do hope that you're not devaluing yourself when you say that, dear," countered Mylene with a very pointed look, even as she smiled warmly at Livia. "Your healing magic did just as much to stabilize Jilk's condition as Leon's machines did..."
"...Please, Your Majesty, it was the least that I could do," blushed Livia. "A person was hurt, and I could help. I just wish that I could have done more."
"You did so much already, Miss Olivia," argued Mylene, turning away from me to take Livia's hand. "Honestly, after everything you've done for me and my family, I must insist that you call me 'Mylene'..."
"...As long as you call me 'Livia'...Mylene…" blushed Livia.
…Ok, that's… interesting… First Deidre, now Mylene- no wait, was Deidre first? Hang on, that's not really important right now-
Honestly, wondering about Livia's sexual preferences really didn't matter right now, in spite of my curiosity. Sure, Livia being bisexual would help if we got together with Angie and Clarice, but as long as she said "yes" to me… well, I'd be pretty damn happy with that. I wouldn't lie and say that thoughts of all four of us in bed at the same time hadn't crossed my mind, but right now, there were more important matters to attend to. As if the fates had heard me, Jilk gave a groggy groan from his hospital bed.
"...Did I win the race for Marie?" asked Jilk thickly through the fog of his injuries and the painkillers that kept them manageable.
"You did, but you damn near crashed, dummy," I smirked. "Gave Marie and your mother quite the fright."
"...Ah," articulated Jilk. "You know, then. Sorry for not mentioning it previously-"
"Wasn't my business to know, so nothing to forgive," I dismissed gently. "You should save your strength, but I need you to confirm something first. During the race, you were attacked deliberately, weren't you?"
"...Yes," replied Jilk. "I can't remember-"
"Don't worry about that," I interrupted. "Again, save your strength. We're going to get you to my ship where Luxion will fix you right up."
"...Thank you, Leon," sighed Jilk as he closed his eyes. "I'm in your debt."
"Friends don't let friends keep score like that," I chuckled. "As long as you don't do something stupid like die on me, I'll be content."
I stepped away from Jilk's bed and began to pace, gathering my thoughts. I already had a pretty damn good idea of who arranged the attack on Jilk, and I had to give Offrey points for her ingenuity, if it even was her plan to begin with. Comparing the finer details on this attack to her little stunt in my tea room was like comparing the Mona Lisa to a fingerpainting "copy" done by a five-year old, and it suggested that a more sophisticated hand guided her proverbial brush here. The Offreys were close to Marquess Frampton, based on what Lux was able to dig up after we closed down early yesterday, and while it could have just been paranoia, I couldn't help but feel that Frampton and his faction were involved.
"Mylene, we'll be moving Jilk to the Razor's Crest in about thirty minutes, where he'll undergo treatment for his injuries and be up and walking by the end of the day," I explained to Mylene. "You are more than welcome to go with him if you wish, where Luxion will be able to keep you updated on his progress."
"Thank you, Leon," smiled Mylene. "You are truly a wonderful young man, and I'm glad that the boys have taken inspiration from you-"
We all jumped as the door slammed open with a crash. Apparently, Marie had been informed that Jilk was awake.
"Jilk!" squealed Marie as she burst into the room and rushed to Jilk's side, her eyes red and puffy from weeping. "Oh gods, you're okay! You're alive and okay!"
"Marie…" groaned Jilk tiredly, smiling even as his injuries ached through the painkillers that the medic had administered. "...I'm so sorry, my beloved, but I've failed to win the prize money for you-"
"-Fuck the prize money!" interjected Marie firmly, her gaze equal parts loving care and iron will as she caressed Jilk's cheek tenderly. "Fuck the entire tournament for that matter! The only thing that matters right now is that you're still alive and still with me, Jilk. I swear I felt my heart stop when I saw your airbike crash to the ground, and it took Greg and Jules both to keep me from climbing over the rails to get to you, so the only thing that matters is that you're still here."
"...Gods, Marie, I'm so sorry to have worried you so," apologized Jilk. "I swear to you that I'll never ride an airbike again if it means I can keep you from worrying."
"...Jilk, darling, you love airbike racing," argued Marie, smiling even as tears streamed down her face. "You were born to fly, and I've never seen you happier than when you're up on an airbike. I love you, Jilk, and I could never take airbikes away from you. I will worry, but I'll live with it as long as you promise you'll come back to me…"
Marie moved forward to kiss Jilk ever so gently, taking care to not jostle his injuries. It was so gentle and sweet that I felt as though I were intruding on a private moment, but I couldn't find it in myself to look away for how touching the moment was. They broke the kiss carefully, instead simply resting their foreheads together, tears of relief streaming slowly down Marie's face. For a moment, the two sat in silence, until Mylene cleared her throat, causing the two to flinch and break apart, Jilk groaning in pain as he moved too quickly.
"Shit! Sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry-" blabbered Marie as she assumed she'd accidentally hurt Jilk.
"-my own fault, love," chuckled Jilk weakly. "I give my word that we'll have time later, but perhaps we should wait until we don't have an audience-"
At this, Marie finally realized that the room was full of other people, to which she instantly blushed to the roots of her hair as she lost all powers of speech. Livia and Angie were barely concealing their amusement at Marie's actions, and I swore I could see a tinge of respect in Angie's eyes as she had watched the scene play out. Clarice had an odd sort of look on her face; a smile that was sincere yet…tired. After a moment, Marie seemed to compose herself and then marched to Clarice and Angie, her slight trembling the only thing giving her emotions away.
"...I know we'd previously said that I could wait to apologize to the two of you until I felt that I could look you in the eye with dignity," began Marie with a shaky voice. "However, in spite of not feeling any more ready than the last time we'd spoken, I feel that it would be more shameful to continue crossing paths with the two of you without some acknowledgement of the pain I've caused the two of you. So, in spite of not having properly atoned for my actions yet, I apologize for all of the harm that I've done to the two of you. I'd never intended for things to happen the way that they did, for whatever it's worth to say that. Still, I should have found some other way to escape my relatives."
"...From my understanding, there weren't many options available to you, so while I cannot say that I'm happy with the circumstances, I find it difficult to reproach you for it," replied Angie carefully yet not unkindly. "Besides, as I said before, you've been a truly positive influence on Julius, where other girls would simply take advantage of his naivety and status solely for their own gain. I accept your apology, Marie Fou Lafan, and ask that we set aside the past to put our best foot forward for those we care about."
Marie made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob, eyes tearing up as she smiled at Angie gratefully before bowing her head, unable to say a word as she tried to choke back sobs of relief. The relief was short-lived as she turned to face Clarice, fear and apprehension returning to her eyes even as she tried to stand strong. Clarice's expression was unreadable for a minute before she let out a heavy exhale, a weight dropping from her with a sense of finality.
"...Look, the only things that you did to wrong me were falling in love with Jilk, which I can't exactly blame you for considering how hard I fell for him first, and failing to get him to pull his head out of his ass, which you had no idea that his head was even up his ass in the first place," stated Clarice. "Any other pain that I suffered was from Jilk being an ass, which isn't your fault. As long as you continue to be good to him and good for him, I can certainly live with how things shook out."
Marie fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face even as she smiled in relief, silently sobbing as she mouthed the words "thank you" over and over in the absence of her voice. She was quickly escorted from the room and tended to by a quite-winded Kyle, the young half-elf taking a moment to catch his breath before helping his Lady out of the room with a comforting arm around her shoulder. Clearly, the consequences of her actions must have weighed on her more heavily than I'd thought, so perhaps a call to check in on how she was feeling later would be in order. For now, there were more problematic issues to discuss.
"So…I think we can all safely say that this was no accident, even though there's no way to prove it-" I began.
"Hey, don't look at me!" protested Clarice quickly. "I got my payback months ago when I kicked him in the nuts after our little talk! And I definitely made it clear to my Followers that I was over him entirely-"
"And yet there's an entire faction of rogue members among your Followers that may still seek vengeance on your behalf, according to what Dan told me," I countered, to which Clarice flushed lightly as she conceded the point. "That being said, that all assumes that Jilk was the end target and not simply collateral damage."
"...Well, that sounds familiar," winced Angie briefly. "You think that someone was trying to discredit me by knocking Jilk out of the race?"
"As one of the primary organizers of the festival and the Head of the Student Council, it would be your already tenuous reputation that would be on the line," I nodded. "However, that plan hinges entirely on you being unable to find a replacement pilot, so either the perpetrator is a special class of idiot or they're making one hell of a Xanatos gambit."
"A 'what' gambit?" asked Mylene, following most of the conversation, up until I made yet another Old World slip.
"Sorry, it's an Old World concept based around the idea of a plan that always results in some sort of victory, where one or more of the secondary objectives are achieved even if the initial objective fails," I explained. "Seeing as I would be the most likely volunteer, they most likely plan for me to have an 'accident' with extreme prejudice, which would still reflect poorly on Angie if they manage to kill me."
"Then we get someone else to fly-" suggested Clarice immediately.
"-And send that poor soul to almost certain death?" I interrupted. "Anyone else skilled enough to survive will either already be competing in the race or occupied with other events, and any substitute dying on Angie's watch will reflect poorly on her. Meanwhile, I'll have the greatest shot at surviving relatively unharmed if not winning outright."
"...Leon, I won't ask you to do this-" began Angie.
"Good, because I'm volunteering, and I'm going to win the whole damn thing for all of you," I quipped as the girls gave me varying looks of concern. "Lux, get a sound system put onto one of the school bikes. It's time for us to go spring a trap…"
It had taken Luxion an hour to get the sound system installed onto the bike that the Academy provided. During that time, Angie and Clarice tried to convince me to not volunteer as a substitute. Angie had tried to argue that, unlike the Duel, I was under no oath to compete, and so I didn't need to risk myself so recklessly here. Thankfully for me, Mylene helped drive home the point that Angie couldn't take a hit to her reputation so soon after the Duel, and so Angie had reluctantly agreed to let me race. Livia, oddly enough, didn't try to dissuade me, instead only asking me to be careful once I confirmed that I believed that I could fly in the race.
Clarice had been the one to protest the most. She tried to find any other alternative to me volunteering, only falling silent when no other options remained. Even as I put on my armor, she'd refused to leave my side, as though hoping that I would change my mind. I stood in the corridor leading to the hangar and the racetrack beyond, sliding my helmet on and listening to the seal lock into place. Finally, Clarice spoke up, her voice so small and frightened that I almost turned back right then and there.
"...Please don't do this, Leon…" begged Clarice with a few tears in her eyes. "If something were to happen to you-"
"I promise you that I'll be fine, Clarice…" I interrupted gently with a warm tone to my voice, taking a moment to dry her tears with a kerchief from one of my belt pouches.
Clarice said nothing more, instead moving to kiss me and, had I not been wearing my helmet, our lips would have met for the first time in the darkened corridor. As it was, a prominent lip print was left on my T-shaped visor, and I made no move to clean it. I moved to take off my helmet so she could try again, but she stopped my hands with a sad smile and a shake of her head.
"I don't want you to fulfill your promise yet," explained Clarice. "You gave me your word that the next time that you kissed me that you wouldn't miss, so I'm reminding you that you need to still be around to give that kiss. Remember that you gave me your word on that."
"...I did," I conceded with a wry grin that I'm sure she could hear in my voice. "Thanks for finding a way to kiss me for luck without causing me to break said promise."
"Come back to me, Leon," ordered Clarice as she pulled me in for one last hug. "Rain whatever wrath you have to out there on the Offrey Followers, but come back to me at the end…"
"...As you wish, Clarice…" I whispered back in reply as I straddled the cosmetically-modified airbike and started the engine.
I could feel the airbike roar to life beneath me as I took off, taking a moment to glance behind me to check on Clarice, but she was already out of the hangar. I watched Luxion jack into the airbike to micromanage the subsystems, and so I took a moment to address my friend and companion.
"So, I presume you were able to identify the racers that are linked to Offrey?" I asked.
"I was, and I've already keyed your HUD to outline them in red," replied Luxion quickly. "Atlee Loyalists will be marked in green, Atlee Separatists will be marked in yellow, and all other racers will be marked in white."
"Good work," I praised briefly. "Let's go ahead and make a splash, then. Be ready to engage 'Kickstart My Heart' when the race begins. We'll be able to distract a few racers so we can steal their positions."
"Understood," acknowledged Luxion.
With that, we moved to the starting position, ignoring the jeers and boos from the crowd. Honestly, I couldn't even be bothered to flip them off. I just wanted to get this over with, win, and then talk with the girls as quickly as possible. I nodded briefly at Dan and a few other Atlee Followers, giving them a brief thumbs up. The announcer was building up the hype as the countdown began to start the race. I exhaled briefly, just as the light turned green and I slammed the acceleration, the thrust drive whining to life right in time with the opening guitar riffs of Motley Crue. As the drumline kicked in, I shot into the sky at full throttle.
Clarice arrived at the observation deck just as the race was about to start. She'd taken a moment to compose herself in the hallway before making her way back to the girls, not wanting them to see her tears or worry over Leon so prominently. She wondered briefly if she should have let him kiss her before the race, but then dismissed the idea; she'd have kissed him until sunset if he had…at the very least…
"How was he?" asked Angie in concern.
"Confident, as usual," sighed Clarice with a smile even as her gut twisted in knots. "Tried to get me to stop worrying about him, but… I just keep thinking how Jilk ended up in that hospital bed. If Jilk outflew Leon and he ended up like that, what chance does Leon have now?"
"Clarice, you know that Leon never fights a fight that he doesn't think he can win," reassured Livia gently. "He'll cross that finish line without a scratch."
"...That's why you didn't dissuade him," realized Angie. "You're really not worried, then?"
"Of course I'm still worried," replied Livia, even as she smiled warmly. "I just have faith that Leon will come back to us with that cocky grin of his, and we'll yell at him for being so reckless."
Clarice simply nodded, not trusting her voice to speak without sobbing. Gods, how she wished that she had half the faith Livia did. Silently, she swore to herself that if Leon didn't fulfill his promise to kiss her the moment he saw her after the race, she'd kiss him first and heaven help whatever or whoever got in the way. Honestly, with the worry twisting in her gut, she wasn't sure how she'd last the full three laps of the race, strongly considering hiding in the washroom for the duration of the race. And then… she saw Leon take flight…
In all honesty, Clarice had only taken an interest in airbikes at first because Jilk had been interested, nearly seven years ago now, but she'd come to love the sport for herself after a few months, perhaps even more than Jilk had. Her Followers had, of course, taken to the sport with their usual zeal, so Clarice had seen many truly gifted pilots over the years. Leon, however, was in a class of his own. Under his careful control, the stock airbike danced through the sky as he weaved through the competition to keep pace behind Dan. It was… perfection…
"Gods above, look at him go!" exclaimed Angie, her eyes widening as Leon glided around the track, avoiding the Offrey Followers chasing him with effortless grace. "He truly glides his way around the track and the other racers! I've never seen anything like it!"
"Magnificent!" beamed Livia. "He's like a feather in a breeze!"
"...He's glorious…" whispered Clarice as she stared, spellbound by Leon's performance on the airbike when she started to laugh. "That cheeky bastard… He's easily ten times the pilot that Jilk is! He let Jilk win that race as a peace offering and to give himself some amount of deniability if I ever heard about it before we went on our little date! Gods, I can see that cheeky grin of his in my head, and it makes me want to kiss it right off his stupid sexy face!"
Clarice slapped a hand to her mouth, realizing that she'd said that last thought not only out loud, but quite loudly as well. She cautiously glanced at Livia to see her reaction, worried that she might have overstepped. Livia simply smiled mischievously, not a trace of hurt or betrayal on her face.
"If I can't watch you do it, at least tell me if he's a good kisser," teased Livia, shrugging slightly as she continued. "Not that I'd know the difference, but I'd certainly like to know before I kiss him."
"...So you've made your decision, then?" asked Clarice, her eyebrows raising as she beamed at Livia.
"Well… Conditionally, yes," hedged Livia shyly. "I have some questions that I want him to answer for me first, but unless he's secretly a mass-murdering villain, I can't really see having a problem with him after."
"In all honesty, I feel the same," nodded Angie. "This incident really only solidifies my opinion of the man, and I think that Clarice and I need to have a particular discussion with our fathers on the matter-"
Clarice frowned as the events of the race caught her eye, drawing her attention away from the conversation. Racer Number Five made to attack Leon, to which Leon responded by dropping below, kicking the rider in the faceplate as he returned to his prior altitude. A brief glance at her program booklet confirmed that Racer Number Five was a Second Year by the name of Edmond Fou Dantes, heir to Viscount Dantes and a Follower of the Dumas Earldom, which were known enemies of the Offrey Earldom. As she continued to watch, she identified further attackers as the heirs of Viscount Aramis, Baron Porthos, and Viscount Athos, all members of the Dumas Faction. Finally, she recognized Kurt Fou Rourke as he tried to attack Leon with a power wrench, and immediately knew there was something wrong.
"We've got a problem, girls," warned Clarice as she moved to share her findings with the group.
"Do we now?" sneered an unwelcome voice. "I think it's a rather welcome development…"
Clarice turned, swearing to herself as she balled up her fist, ready to knock in Stephanie Fou Offrey's teeth if the need arose.
The first lap had passed without incident, really. One or two Offrey Followers tried to slam into me, but I simply glided away effortlessly without losing momentum. I held steadily at second place, just behind Dan as we passed the flag line in almost the same instant. "Kickstart My Heart" was winding down, and I was preparing to choose another for my second lap. The crowd had actually taken to me… well, I wouldn't say well, but they didn't outright hate me, and it did seem some of them were actually cheering for me. Perhaps my showmanship had won me a few fans? I was broken from my musings by an alert from Luxion.
"Contact, bearing 67.5 degrees, high angle," reported Luxion suddenly.
I evaded at the last possible moment, cutting my lift drive to drop just far enough out of the way that the hostile contact moved harmlessly above me. I then reengaged the lift drive at max power, taking the opportunity to kick my assailant in the faceplate as I rose past him, blinking in shock at the white outline around him as he struggled to regain control of his bike. Another white outlined student tried to slam into me from the left, to which I stalled to let him slide by in front of me before accelerating past him.
"Lux, I thought you said that the white outlines meant the racer isn't affiliated with anyone that I'd need to be concerned about?" I asked as I swerved to evade yet another white outlined student.
"I did," reported Luxion. "Clearly, there must be another factor that we'd failed to consider, as even your plummeting popularity would not account for this sort of response."
"I was going to say that it seemed like I was getting a little more hate than even I'd thought to be likely," I quipped back as I caught the fist of a fourth rider and slammed it into his throat through the gap between his helmet and his racing uniform, causing him to struggle for control as he choked. "It's almost like I have a price on my head-"
I froze for a moment, thinking back to Offrey's threat in my tea room the other day and connecting the dots. Now this had Offrey's "fingerpainting" style all over it.
"...Damned bitch put a price on my head, didn't she?" I concluded.
"It would appear so, as useless as such action would be against us," agreed Luxion smugly.
"Well, let's go ahead and just highlight everyone in red except for Clarice's Followers," I replied, cracking my knuckles as I prepared myself for the fight.
"Understood," replied Luxion as he updated my HUD. "Two laps remaining. Beginning 'Black Betty' protocol…"
"...You know, you could just say that you're playing the next song," I smirked.
"Your flare for the dramatic must be having an influence on me," quipped Luxion.
"Just an observation, not a judgment," I chuckled as the next attacker squared up with our bike.
"What have you done, Offrey?" demanded Angie with a glare.
"What makes you think I had anything to do with this?" simpered Offrey with a coy smile.
"Oh, let's think for half a second," snarked Clarice as she made an exaggerated thinking pose. "Perhaps your parting words of 'You'll pay for this, Bartfort', among other things?"
"Perhaps that was a warning that other concerned citizens might decide to handle him," dismissed Offrey insincerely. "I mean, someone must hate him just as much as I do if they put up a five thousand dia bounty on his injury during the race- ten if he dies…"
"You loathsome two-faced beggar-" snarled Angie as she moved to cave Offrey's smirk in.
"Please don't, Angie, you'll get her blood on your knuckles," placated Livia gently before fixing Offrey with a smirk. "Besides, we all know that it won't make a difference."
"...You're still sniffing about, Commoner?" sneered Offrey.
"I'm actually holding my breath in your presence, but I am 'still around', yes," smirked Livia, her expression so similar to Leon's that Clarice had to bite her lip to refrain from kissing Livia right then and there. "Unfortunately for the rest of the world, you're inflicting yourself upon it, but I suppose we all must face our trials."
"...You seem remarkably unconcerned at Lord Bartfort's impending fate," observed Offrey as she narrowed her eyes.
"Your petty manipulations are the only reason Leon has a snowball's chance in Hell of losing, much less getting hurt," Livia shot back with a patronizing smile. "Part of me hopes that the bounty is non-refundable, but the other part finds the idea of a massive bag of dia thrown unceremoniously at you rather amusing on its own."
Clarice had never taken the time to consider if she could be attracted to another woman before, but it seemed that if she could be, it would most certainly be with Livia. The girl had stood by her side as faithfully as Leon had, even trying to help her from the moment that she'd met her. Stealing a glance at Angie, Clarice could see a similar blush and warm smile as the ruby-eyed blonde gazed adoringly at their mutual… friend? Crush? Future lover? Honestly, it was all so confusing, so perhaps it was best that they sit down with Leon as a group to discuss how this all would work, if he did in fact return their feelings. Offrey seethed silently at Livia for a moment before a wicked grin creeped onto her face, causing Clarice's gut to drop.
"..Bartfort must like that disrespectful mouth of yours, Peasant," sneered Offrey. "Or does he have you use it for something else? I imagine it would be the only way to shut you up…"
"...Have care how you speak, Miss Awful-rey…" warned Livia, even as she blushed at her lewd insinuation.
"A young schoolgirl's blush?" blinked Offrey momentarily before smiling wickedly again. "You mean he hasn't even allowed you to taste him yet? Oh, he may be even crueler than I thought if he hasn't used your mouth yet-"
"You know nothing about him, you Gull!" snapped Livia fiercely. "He's a far better man-"
"He's a man, Scholarship Pet," sneered Offrey. "You really think that he gives a damn about you beyond those two overstuffed lumps on your chest? Do you think he approached you for any other reason than to one day pleasure himself with that whore's body of yours? The only reason a Noble boy would glance your way is for a chance to use those fat tits of yours so he can paint your plain face with his seed. Maybe he'll sire a bastard or two with you so that you can nursemaid for his real wife-"
"You wretch-" shrieked Angie as she finally found her voice through her rage.
"Foul cunt-" snarled Clarice.
"Stand down, both of you!" ordered Livia.
The resoluteness of Livia's tone brought Angie and Clarice up short as they turned to glance at their friend. In spite of the unyielding look on Livia's face, Clarice could see that Offrey's accusation had struck Livia right in one of her greatest insecurities. For however much they'd tried to reassure her, Livia still wrestled with that one question: Why did Leon approach her that day? Why some peasant girl and not someone like Deidre or Clarice or even Angie? Without a direct answer from Leon himself, the lingering doubt that he only wanted Livia for her body would persist in Livia's mind, no matter how many other people told her otherwise. Livia took a deep yet shaky breath before responding.
"...I don't know why Leon approached me that day, that is true," whispered Livia, her eyes like iron even as a few tears slipped down her face. "But regardless of his intentions, Leon Fou Bartfort has helped me more than any other individual in my life, and for that, I will be eternally grateful. If he only desires to take me to his bed and nothing more, then so be it, but I'll let him be the one to tell me that. I pity that you are unable to comprehend motives beyond lust and greed and spite, but I will not hear another word. I'd wish you a good day, but there's only so much space for lies between us, and you've filled it up entirely in the brief yet unbearable time that I've had the misfortune to know you. Besides that, I have the distinct impression that yours will soon change for the worse."
With that, Livia turned on her heel and moved quickly from the room, a slight tremble in her movements being the only sign that Offrey's words had any impact. Offrey sneered in satisfaction as she watched Livia flee, wholeheartedly believing in her victory. Clarice had to admit that seeing the smug triumph wiped from the rancid bitch's face by Angie's righteous fist was a special form of satisfaction on its own, in spite of the worry she now felt. She prayed that Leon would be able to sort out this mess once he won the race.
"The race is now in the final lap, Master," reported Leon. "Our current position is fourth place."
"Fourth?" I snarked as I dodged yet another attack. "We're really slacking, aren't we?"
"For the sake of fairness, we have been playing on the defensive," shot back Luxion. "It would be quite simple to take a more offensive action and slaughter them all, but that action might be more problematic for Mistress Angelica in the end."
"Hey, look at you now!" I quipped. "Tempering your genocidal tendencies! That's character growth right there!"
I ducked under the power wrench that the Offrey Follower swung at my face, letting the heavy tool hit another Offrey Follower right in the visor and causing him to lose control. I then quickly dislocated the first Follower's shoulder before speeding away from the scene. This was becoming a nightmare to deal with, and I wanted to just get the race over at this point.
"Luxion, disengage safeties, set power output to critical, and let's blast our last song," I ordered.
"Understood, Master," acknowledged Luxion gleefully. "Engaging 'Saturday Night' Protocol…"
I could feel the airbike scream in protest as I accelerated forward at twice the maximum safe speed that these airbikes were designed to go, Elton John's dulcet tones blasting from the sound system as I shot past my competition. I knew I was taking a risk, but this was the final lap of the race, and I did have a backup plan to get off of the bike if I needed to. I was confident that even if the bike died shortly after the finish line, I'd still be fine as long as it didn't explode with me still on it.
"Lux, how's the bike handling it?" I asked as we moved into first place ahead of Dan.
"As we'd anticipated, Master," confirmed Luxion. "Internal components are simply 'burning out' rather than failing catastrophically. However, by my calculations, the vehicle will lose all lift capabilities five meters short of the finish line…"
"Fuck…" I swore, realizing that I technically needed to cross the finish line with the bike for my victory to count. "Lux, I want you to squeeze whatever upward lift you can get from this damn thing when we're thirty meters from the finish line. That should give me enough height to ride the bike's smoking corpse past the finish before we bail."
"Understood, Master," acknowledged Luxion gleefully. "We shall give the audience their money's worth in showmanship, then."
The last lines of the song finished up right as we hit the final thirty meters, and I felt the blood rush to my feet as the bike lurched into the sky, sputtering and gasping its final breath as black smoke poured from the vehicle. Struggling to maintain consciousness, I wrestled the bike to finish my last command before we dropped from the sky. As the black spots cleared from my eyes, I could hear the announcer call the race in my favor, and the crowd actually cheered for a moment before the announcer then shared the fate of my now doomed airbike. The crowd went silent as they all seemed to hold their breath.
"Let's show them the Rising Phoenix, Lux!" I gritted out before activating my jetpack. "Get yourself out now!"
"Ejecting-" acknowledged Luxion.
I felt myself rocket into the sky as the airbike dropped out from beneath me. Luxion's drone broke away from the bike and flew into my outstretched hand with almost clockwork precision. Somewhere beneath us, the bike plowed straight into the ground as it belched smoke and burst into flames. Meanwhile, I carefully descended to the ground with the newly-fashioned jetpack as the crowd went berserk. Apparently, even if I was the most hated man in the school, the "Rule of Cool" reigned supreme, and anyone who followed said rule would always have the masses on their side.
"Well, that was more fun than I'd ever care to have in a single day," I chuckled as I dusted myself off.
The school airbike was a smoldering wreck from where it landed after I abandoned it to its fate. The track crew were all trying to extinguish the flames using water magic, with little success. I popped my helmet off to stare at the faceplate, Clarice's lip print undisturbed in spite of all the chaos on the track. I smiled briefly before pressing my lips to the mark, deciding that I'd "cut out the middleman" the next time I saw Clarice. As I left the field, I felt a slight spring in my step as I made my way to the hangar. I caught sight of Dan flying his airbike back, giving the man a brief wave of acknowledgement. There'd be time to talk later, as I could see a flash of ginger hair on the other side of the hangar, and so I rushed to meet Clarice and finally fulfill my promise from all those months before.
As I got closer, however, I could see that there was something horribly wrong. I could understand Angie and Livia not being there to greet me right away, as unusual of a circumstance as that would be, given how tense Clarice had been before I set foot on the track. The fact that Mylene was with her was certainly less understandable, and something that instantly put me on edge even before I saw their worried expressions. Clarice rushed forward and pulled me into a hug that was equal parts relieved and distressed.
"...Clarice, where are Livia and Angie?" I asked quietly with a calm that I didn't feel.
"...Offrey came to mock us as the rest of the competitors ganged up on you," explained Clarice. "Livia spoke out in support of you, saying that her 'petty manipulations were the only way you stood a snowball's chance in Hell of losing'..."
"Damn, she said all that?" I smiled in spite of my growing concern before frowning. "...So what happened that caused her to not be here with us?"
"...Offrey called her your 'pet' again, and actually finished the statement that she tried to say in your tearoom, questioning why you'd have given a commoner any thought, before implying that you intended to use her as a form of sexual relief until you 'inevitably' bored of her…" winced Clarice. "Angie immediately gave Offrey a split lip before running after Livia. She told me to come find you and the Queen to tell you two immediately."
…I felt numb. For a brief moment as I processed what Clarice had told me, I felt absolutely no emotion, like the moment before detonation during an atomic bomb test. In the next instant, I could feel my pulse behind my eyes and in my neck as my hands physically shook from rage. I spared a brief glance to Mylene, a silent question in my gaze. Mylene's mouth was fixed into a grim line, her eyes hardened as she answered me with a single deliberate nod. …Apparently, in regards to how much violence I was allowed to use, the answer was "yes"...
"...Where?" I growled.
"...Still on the observation deck," whispered Clarice grimly. "Make her pay, Leon-"
I didn't hear anything of what Clarice said next. I didn't hear what Mylene said to Clarice, either, although she did seem quite satisfied by my actions. I didn't hear the doors slamming open as I stormed my way to the observation deck. I didn't hear the surprised and angry exclamation of the staff as I kicked open the door and crossed the room to where my target sat. I couldn't even hear her bitching away about the still bleeding lip that Angie had given her. All I could hear was the pulse pounding in my ears right up until the moment that my hand stretched out to meet Offrey as she looked up a moment too late.
"You were warned, Offrey!" I roared as I caught the bitch by the throat with one hand and slammed her into the wall. "You were warned about what continued action toward Livia would bring, and you proceeded regardless of the consequences!"
"Unhand me-" choked Offrey as she tried to scowl, but the fear in her eyes ruined the effect as she struggled to try and pull my hand away without success.
"I promised you what would happen if you came after those I care about, bitch, and I keep my promises," I growled as I lifted the bitch a little higher up the wall to force her onto her tiptoes in order to keep from being strangled. "I let you go because Livia would be saddened by anyone's death, even yours, but I can see now that your continued existence will cause greater misery in the end."
"You can't-"
"-The Hell I can't!" I snarled as I gripped tighter. "Her Majesty has become very fond of that girl, so my ability to turn you into a greasy smear and walk away is not in doubt. Fortunately for you, I don't have the time to deal with you properly, but I want to send a message to anyone else stupid enough to not learn from the first example I made of you. You will purchase a full page advertisement in every newspaper with your own dia, formally apologizing to Olivia and acknowledging that you are an honorless and traitorous bitch, unfit to even serve in a common brothel. You will do this within two days, or I will find you, take you high above the town square and drop you face-first from the exact height that you'll be conscious for the entire way down to your sticky demise on the cobblestones. Am I clearly understood this time?"
"How dare-"
I broke her nose with a swift headbutt. "Am I understood?!"
"Y-you broke my-"
I knocked out a front tooth with one punch and a molar with a swift second punch. "Am I understood?!"
Offrey spat blood as the teeth she lost pinged off the tiled floor. "...Understood…"
I didn't even pay the murderous glare Offrey was giving me a second glance as I unceremoniously dropped the bitch to the floor and walked away. I was only vaguely aware of Mylene making threats to the bitch, not raising her voice and yet being all the more terrifying for it. Neither of them were my priority right now: Livia and her well-being were all that mattered to me.
I followed her comm-unit beacon to her dorm room where I knocked on the door and waited. For an impossibly long moment, I stood in agonizing silence. I didn't even try to lie to myself that this was only to ensure she would be ready to step into the role of the Saintess. This was for Livia. For however complicated and mixed-up my relationship was with her, Clarice, and Angie, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Livia meant the world to me, and I couldn't imagine my world without her in it, and I wanted her to know it. After a moment, the door opened and my heart leapt into my throat, but it was Angie that stepped out.
"How is-" I began to ask.
"She's better," replied Angie quickly, and I could feel the tension leave me. "Still hurting, but much better than she was earlier. I take it that you won in spite of the interference?"
"I did," I confirmed, before giving a wry grin. "I also gave Offrey a broken nose and knocked out two teeth to match that busted lip you gave her."
"...I really shouldn't have done that, but it felt right at the time-" blushed Angie.
"Hey, Mylene approved," I laughed briefly before sobering up. "...Can I-"
"She said that she needs some time to process tonight on her own, but she does want to see you tomorrow morning at breakfast," explained Angie. "She also mentioned that there was someone that wanted to meet with you and make a formal request, and they'd wanted Livia to mediate for them. Someone from the General Class, I think. They're waiting in your usual tea room."
I frowned heavily at the word "mediate". To the Holfortian Nobility, it meant something quite different to "mediate" for someone of a higher rank, and could have rather severe social consequences if said request was rejected. Angie seemed to notice the phrasing as well, because she commented on it.
"Livia knows exactly what it would mean to 'mediate', and yet she agreed to be the mediator for this girl without hesitation," explained Angie. "She said that you'd understand why the moment you meet with the girl, but she wouldn't explain any more than that."
"...Alright, I'll meet this girl, then…" I nodded. "I'll let you and Clarice know how it goes later over comms?"
"I would like that," smiled Angie warmly. "Thank you again, Leon, for stepping in on my behalf yet again."
"Always, Angie," I replied with a grin.
I made my way down the hall quickly, only to crash painfully into Mylene, who must have been on her way to check on Livia.
"Sorry about that, Mylene-" I apologized.
"No harm done, Leon," reassured Mylene, instead getting straight to the point. "Did you speak with Livia?"
"No, but Angie said she's doing better," I reported quickly. "She wants to have tonight to process what happened on her own, but she'll be fine in the morning."
"Thank the Gods…" sighed Mylene before straightening her posture as she slipped back into her monarch role. "You should know that I've given the punishment that you handed out to Offrey official backing, so there won't be any official backlash from the Offreys on the matter. That being said, I have the distinct impression that this won't be the last that you hear of them."
"Bad things do come in threes," I chuckled. "I assume that what I did was more along the lines of what you think of when 'breaking toes'?"
"Perfectly in line, Leon," nodded Mylene with a predatory smile. "Keep up the good work, and I shall be very pleased with you."
"Of course," I bowed. "Have a good night, Mylene."
"And you as well, Leon," smiled Mylene.
As I parted ways with the Queen, I felt a mix of relief and fatigue wash over me. The events of the day were finally hitting me like a freight train, but at least it was nearly over. I'd talk to one last person before soaking in a hot bath and forgetting that this day happened, and I could then talk to the girls tomorrow like I planned to.
…Is it really too much to ask that I catch a break? Honestly, if I ever find out that the Fates of Greek Myth are real, I'm gonna have some very strong words for them…
Granted, this turn of events wasn't necessarily unwelcome. On the contrary, I'd been expecting, even hoping, for this exact event, but the timing of it was certainly less than ideal. Another first year girl, with shoulder-length navy blue hair framed around a pretty face, knelt before me in a formal gesture.
"Good evening, Lord Bartfort," greeted the girl. "My name is Carla Fou Wayne. I am the only daughter of Baronet Conrad Fou Wayne, and I humbly ask for your assistance in resolving a matter in our territory."
I remembered the Wayne Family from the game, as they were the ones to give the quest for the Saintess's Necklace, one of the three Endgame items that Livia needed. If there were any doubts that the timeline was accelerated before, this finally put that hope in the ground. With the start of this event, which should have come about two years from now in the original timeline, we were clearly no longer in any sort of predetermined chain of events, and so I'd need to assume that any in-game event could happen at any time.
"I see…" I nodded briefly, steepling my fingers even as I screamed out in consternation in my mind. "What sort of request can I help with specifically? Surely there are other older and more experienced Barons you could ask?"
"Your fighting prowess is unparalleled among those of a similar rank, and I would not be able to make a formal request to anyone higher-ranking," replied Carla formally. "It's a simple request to aid in killing or capturing a small band of pirates that have begun operating in my father's territory."
"How many pirates are we talking about here?" I asked carefully.
"I have the details from my father's scouting patrols listed here," replied Carla as she pulled a folder from her bag and passed it to me. "I believe this shall explain everything you need to know."
I took the folder carefully, flipping it open with the intention to lazily browse its contents for five minutes before grudgingly accepting her request. I blinked as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing, taking a moment to realize that I might actually need the full five minutes to understand the folder filled with blank papers to give the impression of weight and volume, save for a single note scrawled hastily on a scrap of torn parchment.
"You must deny my request, Lord Bartfort. It is a trap meant to kill you. You must then tell the Queen to investigate the Offrey Family for collusion with pirates. If you don't, The Field Heir and the Scholarship Student will surely perish."
Progress on the next chapter is already begun. I anticipate to be ready by February 16 or 23. Thanks for reading!