Notorious No More, page 16
I bit my lip. I remembered those words well...and the ones that followed them, about the responsibilities of royalty.
“Even if we set aside the matter of the barrier,” he continued, “do you mean for me to send knights and mages, loyal to crown and country, into that forest—a place straddling the border with another nation—for the sake of a few nobles’ children? Use your head. That cursed forest is the reason we and our neighbor have maintained our peace. It is because of its presence that we have chosen cooperation over meaningless conflict. They teach this at the Academy, though you should have learned it long before, during your education as a prince.
“And suppose something happens to that barrier? Suppose the swarm is released. What then? It would not be a tragedy confined to our land alone. The neighboring kingdom’s people would suffer as well. And if it were taken as an act of aggression, we might face war. Even if we were to win such a war, the cost would be grave. Our strength would be diminished, and what then? Would other nations not see their chance? Would they not strike? In the end, the ones who would suffer most, as always, would be the people.
“Those words I spoke at the entrance ceremony were meant for nobles and the wealthy alone. I have told you, many times, what the royal house and the Four Houses exist to uphold, and yet that arrogance is still rooted deep within you.”
I felt the blood drain from my face under his sharp gaze.
“That is why we will not intervene—and for that decision, we bear no shame. Nor will any objection change the outcome. This incident occurred due to the Academy’s failings. At best, when the students return—if they return—the Crown may offer compensation as the patron of the Academy. But unless their deaths are confirmed, even that would be difficult.”
In other words, nothing would be done. Not for the students, nor their families. Without the intervention of the two ducal houses involved, none of the other families would be able to do anything.
And that was why the chancellor would speak to the ducal heads himself.
Even as a prince, there was nothing I could do.
“Headmaster,” said His Majesty. “Do you know why I permitted you entry to the palace? Why I met with you in person?”
“I am here as well,” I said, unable to stop myself from asserting my presence, clinging to pride that had no place here.
Father sighed once more.
“You merely happened to tag along. It’s time you learned your place. Why do you think that I have never granted you any authority over lives, or matters of state? Even if I have said nothing, know that I am well informed of your conduct at the Academy.”
I flinched.
“Hmph. So at least you know some shame. Then you know how I currently judge you. Accordingly, I have given you only the barest minimum of authority befitting a prince. You accepted, without question, the report on last year’s joint subjugation exercise and the resulting punishment of your classmates. You never thought to inquire deeper. That alone speaks volumes. Your presence here is, frankly, immaterial. And you, Headmaster—do you understand why you were summoned?”
My thoughts reeled: my conduct at the Academy...the minimal authority I had been given...the reports I never read. I had never even opened the spy’s reports that had been available to me all this time—I had dismissed them outright. I had even injured my own betrothed based on assumptions that could have easily been dispelled if I had read them. And, as royalty, I had deferred to the Academy’s decisions without scrutiny.
He was telling me, without saying it outright, that it wasn’t because I had done nothing wrong that he had never reprimanded me—but because I wasn’t even worth the trouble.
The implications crushed me. My mind went blank. My body trembled.
“You summoned me to ensure the Academy takes no steps toward a rescue,” the headmaster said plainly.
“Indeed,” said His Majesty. “While this incident is, ultimately, the Academy’s failing, it would become a problem if the faculty attempts to remedy that failure by dispatching aid and losing lives in the process. You understood that, I trust?”
“Of course, Your Majesty. But, is there truly no path by which they may survive? I understand that no state rescue can be authorized, yet both you and the chancellor have seemed to indicate that there is a possibility they might be saved.”
At that, His Majesty’s expression shifted ever so slightly.
“So, you noticed,” he murmured. “It is no brilliant solution, mind you, and it will depend entirely upon those inside. That is why we did not voice it. Chancellor?” He nodded to the chancellor.
“Yes, Your Majesty. And the prince?”
“Let him listen.”
And so I listened in silence as the chancellor spoke. By the time he had finished, a small flame of hope flickered within me.
But father snuffed it out at once.
“Now then,” he said. “I hear there exists a report that was passed down to Class D from last year’s graduating class.”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Do you believe the acts described within that document will be repeated? Do you believe that what befell others might now be inflicted upon your betrothed, the daughter of House Robur, of proper blood and bearing, and your fiancée as decreed by the Crown?”
“Well...that is...yes.”
To admit it was to confess that my own behavior had helped create an environment in which such acts could occur. That my influence had been toxic. For a moment, I was tempted to dodge the question, but saw the futility in it.
“And why is that?” father pressed. “If anything, the presence of a son from one of the Four Great Houses should ensure the royal fiancée’s protection. Is that not so? Have you not considered making him your aide before? If the prince himself treats his betrothed with disdain, it falls to the vassal to correct him, is that not so? And yet, every report we receive speaks only of complicity. Is it not the same for Heinz Asche?”
His eyes narrowed. The moment I’d feared most had arrived.
“I accept full responsibility. Heinz has already repented. Enrique, however...”
“I see,” father said flatly. “It has been four years since you entered the Academy. Two for the Robur girl. And still these are the only companions you’ve gathered to your side. Then mark this well: If the Nilty boy chooses to mistreat her, if he harms her in accordance with that report—then that, too, shall be your responsibility. And if others from his team follow suit, the blame still lies with you. In fact, perhaps it would be more convenient—for you, and for House Asche—if none of them return at all.”
“Wh-What...?”
I looked up instinctively. A chill coursed through me.
The man who should have been my father stared back not with fury, but with the dispassionate gaze of a man appraising a failed investment.
“Reflect on that well. We are finished here. Chancellor.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The chancellor offered a brief nod and signaled us to leave.
I had no choice but to exit the chamber alongside the headmaster.
※※Aside: A Deal in the Infirmary (Mihail)※※
“Ah, there you are—do wait a moment.”
I had just stepped out of the chamber where the magical communication tool was kept, having contacted father’s secretary to arrange an audience for the headmaster with His Majesty, when he appeared.
“Wharton Nilty. I thought you had already left.”
Gone was the air of authority he’d wielded as the next head of House Nilty. In its place stood the man I knew far too well: flippant, insufferable, and three years my senior. He’d been pestering me since before I’d even enrolled at the Academy.
Not that he had been the only one—royals and heirs from the Four Great Houses had a way of inserting themselves into my life. But Wharton’s brand of harassment was on an entirely different level. So much so that I’d long since abandoned formality and any pretense of respectful address when we spoke in private.
That said, he always kept a respectable distance whenever I was with members of the second prince’s faction. And since his graduation, we rarely met except outside school grounds. Few at the Academy even knew the extent of our acquaintance.
“You don’t look well,” he said. “Come, let’s rest in the infirmary.”
“I’ll pass.”
What nonsense was he spouting now? Annoyance pricked at me—briefly—before I remembered: This man, for all his casual airs, was as calculating as they came. There would be a reason he was stopping me, especially at a time like this.
“Ha ha ha! Come now, don’t look at me like that. But if you insist on rushing home, Mihail, my boy... Hmm. Then I may collapse—right here and now.”
“And why would you do that?” Ordinarily, I could tolerate him, but with my sister’s safety hanging in the balance, I found his levity completely distasteful.
“Surely the heir to House Robur would never leave a collapsed heir of House Nilty sprawled in a corridor unattended.” So saying, he stepped to my side and promptly threw an arm around my neck, bringing his face far too close. I nearly struck him on reflex. Only years of familiarity allowed me to rein in the impulse. Then his voice, quiet and serious beneath the laughter, caught me off guard.
“You want to rescue your sister, don’t you? And depending on certain revelations, I may have to pay my dear younger brother a visit myself.”
“To finish him off?”
His values were different from mine. Always had been. I had learned much about his outlook on things over our long acquaintance—unwillingly, of course. The two of them might have looked like a close-knit pair of brothers in public—but what he truly felt about his sibling? Who could say.
“Depends on the situation,” he replied. “Now then, I’m about to collapse. To the infirmary, if you please.”
This time, he really did look ready to drop, and I barely managed to catch him before he made good on his threat.
“Walk. I’ll go with you, all right? But I am not carrying you. I have no interest in hauling around the dead weight of a perfectly conscious man. No one needs to see two grown men clinging to each other in a sweaty heap.”
Despite appearances, the man was fit. He excelled at not only magic, but swordplay and martial arts as well. Just steadying him for a moment was enough for me to feel the muscle beneath his uniform. He’d clearly kept up his training after graduation.
“Oh, pishposh. You know, fans of that novelist that everyone’s been raving about lately would love to see it.”
“What fans of what novelist? Stop talking nonsense.”
“Nonsense? You wound me. That novelist—surely you know the one—is adored by all! From commoners to nobles, fresh-faced maidens to refined older ladies. Their works span every genre: the classic tales of love between men and women, yes, but also dalliances between gentlemen and tender love between ladies. From lighthearted fluff to heavy emotional depths—they offer it all. Even some gentlemen count themselves among the faithful. They have a diverse and devoted readership.”
I scoffed. “That’s not just risqué—it’s outright obscene.” Every genre didn’t begin to cover it. This man was talking about genres from shudou to yuri, wasn’t he?
“I’ll have you know their readership is steadily growing.”
“Tch. Then the author and their fans are equally incomprehensible.”
“Ah, but once you read it, you’ll understand. The world-building is excellent. The plotlines never stray. I myself am entirely and hopelessly hooked.”
And this man was heir to one of the Four Houses!
“You’ve read these books?”
“Read them? I’m the first in line for every new release. Have been for years. They’re published irregularly, and you never know if the next one will be a sequel or something entirely new—that uncertainty is part of the thrill, you see. I’ve even mobilized Nilty’s shadows to uncover the next release date or title, but the trail’s maddeningly elusive. The tales of love between ladies... Ah! The atmosphere and the aesthetic are wonderful,” he said, closing his eyes and holding a hand to his chest. Then, suddenly, he opened his eyes and looked at me with interest. “You seem intrigued. I’ll lend you one of my favorites.”
What was this man doing with his time? Clearly he was a devoted fan. But for a grown man to extol this literature’s virtues so passionately...and all while sporting hair and eyes that made him the very image of the late queen herself... She must have been rolling in her grave.
“No, I don’t want it. And I pity your agents. You’re abusing your authority.”
“Ha! I’ve only assigned those who are already thoroughly addicted themselves. They carry out their orders with joy and overflowing—no, gushing—enthusiasm.”
“‘Overflowing’ is bad enough. ‘Gushing’ is most certainly worse.”
Between the flamboyant royal spy who occasionally came to check on my sister and the Nilty agents who had fallen prey to salacious fiction, I couldn’t help but question what a spy was meant to be anymore. Was this truly acceptable?
Surely the shadows of House Robur weren’t... No, surely not. I shook the thought away.
We were still in the middle of this absurd exchange when I caught sight of the infirmary sign ahead and abruptly came back to reality.
“We’ve arrived.”
I quickened my pace to put distance between myself and the living embodiment of impropriety, swung the door open without knocking, and forcibly ended the conversation. Any longer on that topic and I was going to lose something. I wasn’t sure what, but it felt important.
“Oh, you’re finally here... What’s the matter?” said the school doctor, seated as usual. He was a bespectacled man with little patience and no sense of deference, demonstrated in how he addressed me.
“It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”
“I know you’ve been worrying over your sister. I imagine you’re struggling.”
“Yeah.”
Perhaps because I knew all of the people here, I let myself relax. I was even a little grateful for his concern—unusual though it was. Though honestly, my mind had been preoccupied by things other than my sister. To think that I’d allowed myself to get swept up in a perverse literary tangent. Some brother I was.
Forgive me, Laviange. You’re likely in danger as we speak—perhaps terrified, even now. You may already be—
No. That teacher had said Team Peckish would survive. Team Peckish. Why in the world was her team named that? When I brought her home, we’d be having a serious discussion about it.
But for that to happen, I had to get my head on straight.
“Have you two been fully briefed on the situation?” the doctor asked Wharton as he locked the door behind us.
“Yes. And as we suspected,” Wharton said, “it seems this entire fiasco began with my idiot brother and his two sycophants. The teleportation mishap likely started with them.”
“And you believe they wished to be teleported to the Poison Box Garden?” the doctor asked.
“That much I can’t say. He’s very much like your half brother, you know—no real grasp of his own limitations, and pride as tall as a mountain. He may very well have thought he could stroll into the damned forest and walk out without a scratch.”
That certainly sounded like Enrique. But something about this didn’t sit right. As we suspected? Had they discussed this ahead of time?
“Explain yourselves,” I demanded. “There wasn’t much time between the incident being discovered and our summons, yet the two of you seem to have shared quite a bit of information already. Do you both believe this was no accident? If so, then Enrique must have had a target in mind. And if he used the joint training as cover, then that would mean he was after someone in the second-year team. The most likely candidate is...”
Even though I knew the answer, I couldn’t bring myself to say her name.
“Judging from the circumstances, I’m afraid the target was your sister,” said the doctor.
“I’m sorry,” Wharton said. “Truly. For what my brother has done. I swear I’ll make it right.”
His open admission that malice might have played a hand in it sent rage rushing through me. I wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him, and demand to know what good his apology would do if my sister never came back. The only reason I restrained myself was because I knew who the school physician really was.
“Well, if a magic circle has been tampered with or incorrectly designed,” the doctor began, “any attempt to scan it with an appraisal spell could lead to magical overflow or even an explosion. After we realized that something had gone wrong, I stayed behind to secure the area. During that time, I made a sketch of the circle and brought it here. It took some time to decipher, but I’ve identified both the destination and why Team AD9 alone was sent elsewhere. I had Wharton try to bring you in before the assembly.”
“You did?” I said, raising an eyebrow. Aside from an interruption by my foster sister, I hadn’t spoken to anyone. I shot Wharton a glare. He shrugged with his usual flippant air.
“Oh? Jealous, are we? I was looking forward to our reunion, you know. But you were having such a loud squabble with your dear little sister, I thought it rude to intrude upon such a tender family moment.”
So it had been during my fight with Sienna. I nearly cursed.
My foster sister should have been sent home along with the rest of the first-years. But just as I was preparing to leave—having been stopped by the fourth-year head teacher and informed I was to represent the family as arranged by father—she appeared from nowhere and insisted on coming along.
Yet, something about it gnawed at me. How had she known about Laviange’s disappearance?
The incident had been kept under wraps, and team assignments were determined by lottery. Even knowing a team number wouldn’t tell her who was missing. The report had gone directly to father at the royal palace. No one at the estate—including my mother—would have known, and there was no chance that father would have gone out of his way to tell her.
