Today was, officially, an awesome day in my book.
Bury your problems deep enough, and you could almost pretend they didn't exist. Witch of Envy? Never heard of her. Time-looping curse taking away my free will? Sounds like fiction. Must be someone else's nightmare.
Instead of thinking about all that existential nonsense, I focused on the little victories.
I got my sword and dagger checked by the wandering smith Ms. Belle recommended, Tavian, I think his name was. Even grabbed a maintenance kit off him for a modest four silver. Then I spent another two at the bakery on a full baker's dozen of pastries, with absolutely no regrets.
Armed with snacks and shiny weapons, I marched out of Arlam Village in high spirits. A warm breeze tugged at my jacket, the sun was doing its job without being a dick about it, and the biscuit in my hand was still fresh enough to steam.
It'd be a half-hour walk back to the manor, but I didn't mind.
So, like any sane person would on a silent trail all on his lonesome, I entertained myself with song.
"He was just a rookie trooper, and he surely shook with fright,
He checked off his equipment and made sure his pack was tight.
He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar—
You ain't gonna jump no more!"
I sang it low and cheerful, biting off the last line with a mouthful of biscuit. Crumbs everywhere.
—
The day was going great for one Subaru Natsuki. The boy from Japan had somehow landed himself a job as a butler, of all things.
That meant a stable income, a roof over his head, and a shot at living a somewhat normal life in a very abnormal world.
But the real cherry on top? His coworkers were great!
Ram was the sassy, somewhat useless big-sister type, while Rem was the quiet, hyperefficient model employee. They were a bit cold at first, sure, but now Subaru could say with confidence that at least one of them had a warm heart.
Probably.
Maybe.
Okay, Rem definitely did. Ram still seemed to get a little too much joy out of mocking him, but surely there was love buried under all that sarcasm. Somewhere. Hopefully.
Standing beneath the blazing sun, Subaru wiped his forehead and eyed the bush in front of him like it had personally insulted his mother.
To his left, Rem snipped away with exact precision, her shears making clean, rhythmic cuts that sculpted her shrub into what looked suspiciously like a dashing, heroic man striking a victory pose.
Subaru blinked. Then looked back at his own leafy opponent.
This whole butler gig had been rough so far. First day on the job and he'd already dropped three vases (okay, four), knocked over a serving tray, and in the end had to clean all the messes that he had made.
But this? This was just hedge trimming. How hard could it be?
Just like cutting my hair, he told himself. Or cutting through tension with one of my totally awesome otherworldly jokes. Same principle.
He stuck his tongue out in fierce concentration and snapped the shears—
—and immediately clipped the side of his left index finger.
"OW! Motherf—!"
Subaru dropped the shears in a panic, clutching his hand like it had been hacked off entirely. There wasn't much blood, more of a paper cut with ambition, but the pain was rude for how minor the injury actually was.
"Subaru?" Rem's soft voice called out from behind the hedge. "Are you alright?"
It was the voice of an angel, gentle, calm, and unshaken.
And yet, Subaru's pride as a man screamed at him not to call for help. At the same time, logic fired back that he had nothing left to lose, because, quite frankly, his level of competence had long ago hit rock bottom.
While he warred with himself, the choice was taken away.
Rem stepped through the brush, gaze falling on the boy who had been a bit of a handful all morning. He was clumsy, loud, and prone to daydreaming mid-task… but she could tell. He was trying.
There was something innocent in his chaos, something sincere about his desire to help. So when she saw the bleeding finger and the hedge he'd been butchering, she wasn't surprised.
But she couldn't bring herself to be disappointed either.
"Mana of water, heal this damaged body," she murmured.
A soft blue light shimmered around Subaru's hand. The sting vanished, and the small wound sealed itself cleanly as if it had never existed. The pain became little more than a fading memory.
Subaru flexed his fingers. Then flashed her the kind of grin that could power a city.
Immediately, he exploded into a stream of chatter, half thanks, half awkward flirting. Rem tried to keep her composure, but his words still made her glance away with a faint blush, lips pressed in a line of veiled embarrassment.
'How can he say such things so easily—'
Her thoughts shattered the moment she saw someone walk through the gates of the estate.
And suddenly, only one word consumed her mind:
Hate.
Hatred for those who had destroyed her home and hurt her sister.
Hatred for the monsters who called themselves witch cultists.
Hatred for the white-haired man who dared to walk among them, pretending to be something he wasn't.
She hated how everyone at the manor treated him like a guest.
She hated how close he'd gotten to Lady Emilia.
She hated seeing him eat the food her sister made, with casual smiles and empty words.
And more than anything else, she hated the stench.
The thick, suffocating miasma that radiated from him. Stronger than anything she'd encountered before. Strong enough to make her want to vomit.
She wanted to kill him.
Ram had pleaded for patience. Lord Roswaal had assured them there was a plan. If he were truly with the Cult, they'd handle him, just like they'd handled every other threat that dared come near their peace.
Rem tried. For her sister, she could be endlessly patient.
But for him?
Her patience was running dry.
One mistake. That's all it would take.
And if he made it, she would come for him, and he would know what it meant to face the wrath of a demon.
—
After singing Blood on the Risers a couple of times, I eventually got bored, turns out, singing alone has a shelf life, and turned my attention elsewhere.
The sky was a perfect blue, dotted with lazy white clouds that dimmed the sun just enough to keep me from melting.
'I've got, what, ten more minutes till I reach the manor? Gotta entertain myself somehow.'
I considered playing around with my Authority… but decided against it.
Reason and Judgment would just stretch the walk out even longer, and Indomitable had a cooldown I wasn't keen on burning while still technically in dangerous territory.
Instead, I lifted a palm and decided to mess with magic.
It felt nice, having a toolkit instead of just a single hammer. I wasn't some one-trick pony waiting to get curb-stomped the second a fight got weird.
Now, what to play with, Fire or Yang?
… Probably fire. Less mana drain, and besides, there was something I'd been wondering about.
I hopped over a leafy branch and thought back to the loot house, and to that chat with Emilia about spirits.
She'd said Puck was the Great Spirit of Fire. But all I'd seen from him was ice, walls of it, spears of it, and the ability to wreck an entire building just before going to bed.
If magic were as rigid as I might have originally assumed, then shouldn't he be called the Great Spirit of Water?
It suggested that magic might not be as rule-bound as the names suggested, and that there was a layer of complexity I hadn't discovered yet.
I formed a small sphere of fire, watching it spin above my hand like a red-hot moon.
It felt simple to do such a thing. Intuitive even. I was using Goa. Which was a spell under the attribute of Fire, and hence it made fire. That made logical sense to me.
I tossed the ball into the air.
It fizzled out immediately, vanishing into the wind like a dropped match. Not enough mana. No desire to make it do anything.
I didn't know the incantation to create ice from what I was assuming was merely a different branch of fire magic. Neither Emilia nor Puck had ever said any spells aloud when using it. They just willed it into being. Like how I didn't need to say "Goa" unless I needed extra focus.
So, for me, it would have to come down to visualization.
Click
Reason and Judgment
The world shattered into silence, time froze, and I stilled midstep.
I flickered back to memories of the loot house, of both Emilia and Puck casting spears of ice, how they formed them, how the particles of water in the air seemed to condense, then shape themselves into frozen projectiles.
'Localized freezing of temperature… manipulating airborne moisture… shaping it through mana into weapons.'
I let the world resume and finished my step.
As I walked, a hundred different ideas gnawed at me; there were so many different ways this could be done, and I had no idea which would work or what the resulting outcome of failure might be. Eventually, I simply shook my head and decided to stop thinking and just try.
I raised my hand, palm out. Drew on the mana from my gate, guiding it into the air.
In my mind, I shaped a will, condense, form, freeze.
The breeze picked up. A soft chill brushed my skin. My eyes had closed without me realizing, all my focus on that one image—
A spear of ice.
Piercing, precise, perfect.
A chilled breeze slapped my face, and I opened my eyes, eager anticipation racing through my mind as I witnessed—
… Nothing.
No frozen projectile. Just a gentle gust of cold air.
'Incredible. This is beyond revolutionary for us, no longer will we ever be plagued by the heat of the sun baking us alive, we now bring the air-conditioned rooms with us.' I thought dryly.
While I was frowning, I wasn't necessarily too mad. I didn't even know the incantation. Hell, maybe Puck wasn't even using fire magic. Maybe it was something else entirely.
Still, it proved something important: there was room to grow.
'I can probably ask Emilia or Puck about it later. They don't seem to mind me too much. If I can get a handle on ice magic too, that'll be another card in the deck.'
While I mused, the manor finally came into view.
The front gate. The entry road. And—
Rem. My third least favorite person in this entire household.
Which was kind of depressing, considering there were only seven people living here. That meant I had an active disdain for about 3/7ths of the manor's population.
Roswaal came in at number one. The bastard screamed snake, plus he dressed like a clown and talked in a manner that made me want to shove his little top hat somewhere unholy.
Beatrice came in second place. Small, angry, annoying speech pattern. Also, might have tried to kill me once. Additionally, she somehow knew I held an Authority, which was concerning.
And then there was the maid I was currently walking towards as I continued my pace to the front doors of the manor.
Rem had been glaring at me like I shot her dog since day one. And quite frankly? It was starting to piss me off.
'All it would take is a flick of my finger, and I could turn her into dust. A single spark of Indomitable, and the girl would be gone.'
I forced the thought away, pasting on a polite, empty smile as I continued walking. Then I spotted Subaru stepping out from behind her.
Fully dressed in a sharp-looking servant suit. Roswaal's brand, I assumed. Still, he looked good.
'Then again,' I mused, 'suits give everyone a charisma boost. Maybe it's not him.'
Shifting course, I walked over to where he stood, swinging my travel bag around front as I dug through it. Among the odds and ends I'd picked up from Lucan, the eccentric merchant down in Arlam, was a black and orange cloak.
I didn't particularly like Subaru, if I was being honest with myself. But I didn't hate him either. He was a suspect, first and foremost, and yet, also apparently a fellow dropout from Earth like me. Whether that goofy optimism was genuine or just a really well-polished mask remained to be seen.
Still, I had partially ruined his tracksuit with my own blood. So maybe this would make up for it. Get him in my good graces, and he might let something slip.
"Ethan!" Subaru called out, waving with his usual energy. "There you are, man! I've been looking all over for you."
Rem, standing nearby, shifted her expression into what I could only describe as a carefully neutral mask. Nothing surprising.
"I didn't know you were looking for me," I replied. "Something you need?"
Subaru hesitated, glancing at Rem, but didn't notice anything off with how stiff she suddenly was.
"Nah, it's… It's nothing, dude. We'll talk later," he said, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. Then, just like that, he turned the dial back up to full volume. "So, where'd you run off to anyway? That bag's looking heavy."
I grinned and set the pack down, reaching inside with a bit of flair. "Ta-da. Took a quick trip down to Arlam, picked up a few things here and there. One of which, this."
With a small flourish, I pulled out the cloak and handed it to him while rifling around for the bag of pastries I'd half-finished on the way back.
"Whoa! This thing looks awesome!" Subaru lit up as he immediately threw the cloak on. "You even got my color scheme down! What's the special occasion? Didn't know Christmas came early."
Rem gave him a side glance, visibly confused. Taking that as a cue, I lied as easily as I breathed.
"Not sure what Christmas is, buddy, but I got it because I did kinda get your jacket pretty dirty."
"Neither of you knows what Christmas is?" We both shook our heads, and instead of growing disheartened, Subaru actually brightened at that. "Awesome! I'm gonna teach you guys all about it later. Anyway, thanks for the cloak, Ethan! My tracksuit can be cleaned up, but this is still pretty cool."
"Glad you like it," I said, reaching into my bag and pulling out a couple of pastries. "Want one? Both of you."
I offered one to Rem, too. Manners, right? Pretty sure there's an unspoken rule: be nice to the servants, or end up sipping tea laced with something tragic. Though it seemed, regardless of that, I might still be paid a midnight visit to be gifted a blade in my throat.
Subaru took one without hesitation.
Rem, predictably, declined with that ever-polite composure of hers, then hooked Subaru's arm and started towing him away with only a nod to me.
Guess they still had work to do.
I didn't envy Subaru, sweating through physical labor in a full suit. Meanwhile, I stepped through the front doors of the manor into the seemingly ever-present silence that seeped from the halls.
I ran through a checklist of things I needed to do, the first being:
'I've got a little study date with Emilia.'
I'd made a promise to the royal candidate herself. Wouldn't do to flake, especially considering how much weight she seemed to place on a person's word.
Keeping her in good spirits could very well pay off. If she really did end up as the next ruler of Lugunica, and I'd made a lasting impression, it wouldn't be a bad investment.
'Jesus. What kind of thought process is that?'
The derisive thought flickered through my mind before I swatted it aside like an annoying fly.
Guess my little "break" was over if I was thinking like this again.
Taking the main stairwell in the entrance hall, I kept walking.
'In the immediate present, there are plenty of ways I can benefit while stuck here. I can improve my magic, test the limits of my Authority tomorrow, and maybe, just maybe, leverage Emilia and thereby Puck into getting me access to Beatrice's library. If I'm lucky, that Yang book's still in there somewhere.'
While I did all that, I would keep an eye vaguely in Subaru's direction. I turned down one of the branching halls, plan taking rough shape in my mind.
Now, for the immediate problem.
'Where the hell is Emilia's room?'
—
I wandered for a bit.
Reason and Judgment had given me a vague idea of where Emilia might be, but once that artificial confidence wore off, the truth became painfully clear:
I had no clue where I was going.
Fortunately, I didn't have to wander aimlessly for long. The girl I was looking for ended up finding me instead.
"Ethan!" came a soft voice… from behind me.
Yeah. I really was completely lost.
Spinning around, I spotted the silver-haired beauty herself striding toward me with confident steps. She'd crossed the length of the hallway I'd been bumbling through in seconds.
I raised a hand in greeting. "Hey, Lia! I've been looking everywhere for you. I, uh, never actually asked where your room is… or, y'know, wherever it is you study."
"You reeeally are a dunderhead, Ethan," she said with a playful little mock-scold.
I held up both hands in surrender. "My bad, my bad."
"It looks like you bought a lot," she noted as she turned and began leading me up a staircase I'd completely missed.
"Yeah, I didn't think I'd be able to get anything, but a good opportunity fell into my lap."
"What all did you end up buying?" she asked, casting a curious glance toward the burlap bag slung over my back as we reached the third floor.
"Oh, you know. This and that," I replied vaguely, then pivoted the conversation with a light smile. "But enough about me. What've you been up to?"
She blinked, caught off guard by the question, like it hadn't occurred to her I'd even ask. After a second, she answered.
"I've been brushing up on etiquette and public speaking. Roswaal said I should expect a royal summons soon, after I told him what Sir Reinhard said back in the slums."
I nodded as we walked. "How's the practice going? You give speeches to Puck, and he sits there with a clipboard and reading glasses, judging your performance?"
She giggled at the mental image, shaking her head. "Not quite. Puck's off playing with Beatrice right now, so I've been practicing on my own. Which I now realize is kind of embarrassing to admit out loud."
"I can keep a secret," I said with a grin, as she led me down a side hallway and stopped at a door.
With a gentle push, Emilia opened it and stepped aside, presenting the room to me. The room was bright, soft, and lived-in, more so than mine by a long shot.
The bed in the corner looked custom-made, all pale wood and fluffy blankets with shades of lavender and white. A small stuffed animal sat neatly on the pillows. It was a black creature that looked like some sort of wolf, a very cute and stylized version, but a wolf nevertheless.
A desk rested beneath the window, scattered with notes and a few half-curled scrolls, alongside what looked like a training manual on proper posture while speaking.
Beside the desk, a tall bookshelf stood packed to bursting. There were history books about Lugunica, a few magic-related tomes, and, surprisingly, a large selection of fairy tales.
As I reached the center of the room, still only mildly snooping with my eyes, the door clicked shut behind me.
"So… how do you want to do this, Lia?" I asked, turning toward her. "I'm not the most learned individual, but I've read a few things in my time. Maybe something useful to your situation."
Emilia stepped past me and sat at her desk. The chair was wider than expected, big enough for two, and probably custom-made like everything else in here.
"Uhm, I've never really done this with anyone but Puck," she admitted, a little sheepish. "And he's never that interested in what he calls 'boring mundane human topics.' So I don't really know where to start… I'm sorry—"
I stepped up behind her and lightly tapped her on the head with one finger. A smile tugged at my lips as I saw the opening.
"None of that now." I folded my hands behind my back and straightened just a little. "Let's start with this. You're a royal candidate, which means you're going to be an important person in the future. So why don't we begin with the basics?"
I gave her a calm, expectant look.
"I'll ask you a few questions. You answer as best you can."
Emilia nodded slowly, fidgeting with the edge of one of the scrolls on her desk. "O-Okay. I'll try."
I pulled the extra chair from the wall, dragging it across the floor with a soft scrape before sitting beside her. I gave her a warm smile to try and dispel any unnecessary stress before hitting the pause button.
Click
Reason and Judgment
Time cracked like glass.
Sound died. Motion ceased.
But in the sea of my mind, the thrum of my thoughts echoed louder than ever.
'We don't know royal etiquette. We watched YouTube clips of presidential speeches and read exactly one article on body language.'
'But what we do know how to do is spot nerves. How to fake the illusion of calm, and right now, she needs calm.'
I let the frozen moment end.
"Relax, Lia. This is just you and me doing some practice. If it helps, imagine I'm Puck. I'm not here to judge you, I'm not going to grade you, I'm just here to talk with you."
I watched as a small breath slipped from her lips and her posture loosened just a little before I hit the pause button again.
Click
'Perfect, now that she is calmed, we can begin. But where to start?'
—
Emilia sat in her comfy chair and tried not to stare too hard at the white-haired man as he gently brought one of her chairs over to sit near her. She didn't want to come off as rude. Not when Ethan had been kind enough to actually show up.
Since she'd arrived at the mansion around four or five months ago, she'd been rather… lonely.
Originally, there had been many maids employed by her eccentric sponsor, but they had all kept their distance from her, even when the workforce had been reduced to merely Rem and Ram. There was a certain gap between her and the sisters.
Suffice it to say that Emilia was rather lacking when it came to friendships or being able to speak with anybody in an extended manner, besides her family, Puck.
So when Ethan had offered to help with her studies, and then actually showed up to do it, Emilia had been more than a little ecstatic. Even speed-walking through the mansion to look for him once she'd spotted him through her window.
Though she wouldn't admit either of those facts out loud.
Still, now that he was actually here, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world…
Her nerves started creeping in again.
A hundred thoughts fluttered through her mind like startled moths. What if she said something wrong? What if she stumbled over a sentence? What if she made a mistake and looked silly?
She didn't want him to laugh at her.
Worse, she didn't want him to think less of her. For him to think this was a waste of time, even when he was already spending it on a shallow girl like her.
Before she could continue to spiral, the smooth voice that she had been growing more accustomed to snapped her out of her mind.
There was a soft chuckle in his warm tone. "Relax, Lia. This is just you and me doing some practice. If it helps, imagine I'm Puck. I'm not here to judge you, I'm not going to grade you, I'm just here to talk with you," he calmly reassured her with that confident smile that he almost always wore.
It calmed her, both the words he spoke, the reassuring tone he used—
'... And he continues to call me by a nickname.'
A flicker of joy bloomed in her chest.
Her breath came out in a quiet sigh, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
She liked that nickname. It was one that only Puck had called her, but now she could add Ethan to her list; it made her feel… seen. It made her feel normal, and she found that she very much liked that feeling.
Following Ethan's example, she drew in a breath, lifted her chin, and tried to match the confidence he always carried so easily.
Then, finally, he began.
"Lady Emilia, why do you seek the throne of Lugunica?"
Simple words. Delivered gently. No challenge in them, just curiosity.
It was a question any royal candidate should be able to answer off the top of their head.
A mission statement. A conviction. A practiced speech.
But for Emilia… it wasn't that simple.
She hesitated.
Because the truth, the real truth, was tangled.
There were a few reasons she wanted the throne. Some she could say out loud. Some she couldn't.
In the back of her mind, a voice whispered that she was doing this for entirely selfish reasons. That she was using everybody around her to achieve something that only benefited her.
A ruler was supposed to serve.
To protect. To uplift.
But the real reason she was here, the reason Roswaal had told her to fight for the crown in the first place, wasn't about the kingdom.
It was about her.
But that wouldn't do as a reason people would accept. So she had another purpose, one that she herself could relate to, and one she did truly wish to achieve. It was one she could freely tell, Ethan.
"I… I want to help people," she responded. "There are so many in the kingdom who suffer because of how they look. Or where they were born. I don't want people to be treated as monsters just because they're different."
"I want to create a kingdom where everybody is equal."
She lifted her gaze to him, searching his eyes for a reaction.
Golden. Still. Watching.
And just like before, she caught it again, a flicker. A sharpness in his eyes. Only for a heartbeat. A flash of something analytical. Cold, even.
Then it was gone.
Buried under his usual calm, polite expression.
"That's a rather ambitious goal," Ethan said. "And certainly one I would personally support."
She smiled, a small wave of relief blooming in her chest.
And then he continued.
"Now let's get a little more complicated. How do you plan on enacting such wide-scale social reforms, and how would the kingdom benefit from such an ideology?"
Her smile froze. She stared at him, unblinking. And for a moment, just a moment, her mind was completely empty. Not because she didn't care to answer. But because she didn't know how to answer.
She hadn't thought that far.
Not really.
How do you plan on enacting such wide-scale social reforms? How would the kingdom benefit from such an ideology?
The words echoed. They felt heavy. Sharp. Like shards of something she was supposed to be holding carefully, but now they were slipping between her fingers.
The fragile confidence she'd managed to wear just moments ago began to crack.
Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper.
"I… I'm sorry. I haven't figured that part out yet."
She hated how small she sounded. She hated how she couldn't meet his eyes.
A hand landed on one of hers, large, warm, grounding.
"That's fine, Lia," Ethan said gently.
"You've already got the foundation down for what you want to change. That's step one. You may not have the answer now, but at least you know what you need to look for."
A small pause.
"What we need to look for, right?"
The words echoed in her mind, and she finally dared to lift her eyes to Ethan's face. His tone wasn't condescending; he wasn't smug, there was no sneer on his features, just calm confidence, the usual look he wore that made it seem like he had everything handled.
"We?" she echoed back with an equal amount of confusion and perhaps hope.
Ethan hummed and nodded his head.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to propose that we keep doing these study sessions. Just you and me, focusing on whatever it is you're studying at the moment." his gaze turned away from her and to the large window.
But in that lull of silence, she finally understood what he was offering.
"I couldn't possibly ask you to help me any more than you already have, Ethan!"
It burst out of her before she could stop it, an instinctual protest, flustered and grateful and a little overwhelmed.
Instead of getting upset or disappointed, Ethan simply smiled at her little outburst. A knowing look on his face as his eyes sharpened for just a single blink.
"I said this was a study session, didn't I?"
She could only nod back in response.
"That means we're both learning something. If you were the only one benefiting, I'd have called this a tutoring session."
"But I'm no tutor, Lia."
'Oh,' she thought, blinking.
So he would be gaining something by helping her.
It was… an exchange. A mutual arrangement. By letting him help her, she could offer something in return. Books. Yes, she could absolutely lend him books.
And for magic, well, that was easy. She just needed to ask Puck; he knew a lot and would surely be happy to assist.
That felt… far more doable. More balanced. Fair.
She wasn't just taking from his kindness; she wasn't draining his time with nothing to show for it. She was giving something back.
That thought settled something inside her. And with it, a bit of confidence returned.
Straightening up in her seat, she tried to look as regal as possible, back straight, shoulders poised, chin lifted just so.
Ethan's expression didn't change. Not a twitch, not even a raised brow, which probably meant it wasn't working. Still undeterred, Emilia extended her hand between them.
It felt a little silly, maybe even too formal, but something about this felt important. Like a partnership. A promise. And her emotions wouldn't let her leave it unspoken.
"Then… shall we shake on it?" she asked, soft but steady.
—
I glanced down at the pale, slender hand she offered me. For a split second, something about it gave me déjà vu. Then my gaze lifted to hers, clear, unwavering, amethyst eyes that seemed to shine with raw determination.
I raised my right hand and gently took hers. Warmth spread between our palms, and I matched her sincerity with my standard smile. Polished and reliable.
'Objective achieved. The path forward just got easier.'
This arrangement would keep me anchored in the manor. Keep me relevant. Emilia had officially welcomed me into her inner circle, however informal it might be. That meant access. That meant opportunity. I didn't know how long or short I'd be staying here, but I would make that time productive.
I released her hand.
"Well then, Lia. Shall we continue with our study session?"
I once more turned slightly, eyes flicking toward the window. Still a couple of hours until dinner, if she was willing to go that long.
She nodded, a smile blooming on her face for some reason. I cleared my throat and rolled my shoulders as I prepped to use my Authority.
'Play the part. Play it well. For as long as necessary.'
—
Emilia finished writing the final paragraph on the page before setting her quill down.
I leaned back from my position, having stood behind her, occasionally peeking over her shoulder, and gently patted her on the shoulder in acknowledgment.
A silent "good job."
There was no need to say it aloud.
She glanced up at me, and the way her smile brightened told me the message got through just fine.
Two and a half hours after we'd first shaken hands and begun whatever this was, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, painting the world in golden-orange hues. Warm light spilled through the window, drenching the table in a soft glow.
Spread before us was the product of our time:
A half-written speech.
A couple of pages outlining short-term goals and topics to study.
Preliminary policy ideas.
And most importantly, her central platform for candidacy.
Everything was here. On paper. Unfiltered.
More than I'd ever expected to get from her.
It felt like she'd held nothing back. No secrets. No reservations. As if she believed I was fully aligned with her. As if she trusted me implicitly, not to share any of it with potential rivals.
And… she wasn't wrong. I didn't have any intention of betraying her confidence because I liked who Emilia was. She was kind. Earnest. She didn't deserve a dagger in the back over some half-baked political maneuvering. Her ambitions weren't built on ego or greed.
They were painfully, stupidly sincere.
It was almost baffling how a person like her could even be considered a candidate for any throne. Kingdoms were logically and historically built on blood. It was the death and destruction of enemies, power plays, and cruel politics that kept both your people and other nations in line.
But Emilia?
She wanted to make friends with the entire kingdom. She wanted to unite them, not through fear, but through shared hope and common goals.
It was, quite frankly, one of the most hopeless objectives a person could choose. Unless some cataclysm came along to force national unity, there was no reason a fragmented kingdom would ever rally behind a half-elf girl with dreams of healing hearts.
But the Divine Dragon Volcanica rendered even that a moot possibility.
And yet, here sat Emilia, just before me, both ready and willing to try and make the world a better place.
"You know, Lia…" I murmured, watching her rise from her seat.
"I fear you might just be a tad too trusting. In a number of ways."
She let out a long sigh as she stretched, arms up, fingers laced, utterly unbothered. Casual. At ease. Not a shred of royal posture in sight.
She finally turned to look at me, a confident smile firmly in place. "Puck is always telling me I need to be careful around people. So I think I've gotten good at judging a person's character!"
"Is that so?" I asked lightly.
"Mhmmm. And I think that I was right to trust you."
I offered her a smile in return. "I'm happy that you have such faith in me. But you really should be a bit more apprehensive about who you share certain things with."
Then she did something that surprised me, she raised her hands in surrender and echoed a phrase I had recently found myself saying.
"My bad, my bad," she copied, but with her softer voice, it sounded completely different from the sarcastic dry tone I'd use.
It was… strange. Hearing my own phrase mirrored back at me like that.
Shaking my head at the strange girl, I finally decided to give her something I'd been putting off.
Crossing the room to her bed, I knelt beside the burlap backpack I'd leaned against the bedpost. Digging past my newly bought blanket, I found what I was looking for, a small wooden container tucked carefully beneath the folds.
"What are you up to, Ethan?" came her curious voice from behind me. She was leaning slightly, trying to peek around my shoulder.
"I've actually got something for you, Lia," I replied calmly, still not looking back. "I meant to give it to you earlier. If I'd remembered, you could've made use of it during our session. But alas, my memory does occasionally fail me."
That was a lie.
I hadn't forgotten. I'd just waited. Giving it to her at the start might've come off as overly forward, like I was trying to butter her up before getting something in return.
'Though I doubt she's the type to imagine such complex social maneuvers.'
"Wait, what?" she asked immediately, suspicion rising.
Yeah, I saw that coming.
"Here," I said, holding the box out to her. "Take a look."
She stared at it for a beat before reaching out and opening the container.
A soft gasp escaped her lips.
"...It's beautiful. You really shouldn't have—"
"If you don't want it," I cut in with a shrug, "you can always toss it. I don't mind."
I stood up and casually slung my pack over one shoulder.
"No, never!" she blurted, her voice loud and immediate.
I paused. That… surprised me.
"I would never do something so cruel," she said, her expression intense. "Not when you picked this out for me. And not when it looks this wonderful."
I hadn't expected this reaction.
It was just a minor gesture. Just a line to undercut her thanks, make it easier for her to accept. But somehow, it had done the opposite. It hadn't calmed her at all.
"Well, I'm glad you like it," I said, shifting on my feet. "The inkwell color, violet, reminded me of you."
The words hung in the air a moment longer than I liked. Too sentimental. Too pointed.
I cleared my throat. "Anyway, uh, did you happen to hold onto my cloak from the slums? I, uh… actually liked it."
Emilia didn't answer right away. She just… stared at me for a long second, hands brushing against the container of my gift like it were a cat, before she finally put the thing down on her desk and quietly walked over to a large wardrobe I'd pointedly not stared at.
When she opened it, I caught a glimpse of neat rows of dresses in varying colors. But at the forefront, hanging alone on the door hook, was my cloak. It looked… cleaner than I remembered. Maybe even ironed, if that was a thing here.
She pulled it free and carried it over. "I hope you don't mind," she said as she held it out, "but I had it cleaned after you left for Arlam."
I ran my hand across the fabric, tracing the faint silver embroidery along the edges, then looked up at her with a grin. "Not at all. Thanks for that."
"It was the least I could do… really, Ethan." She glanced away, voice dipping quieter. "I'm reeeally grateful. For everything you continue to give me. I'm going to have to work super hard to repay you."
I opened my mouth to respond—
Knock knock.
Both of us jumped.
Emilia brushed past me to open the door. On the other side stood Ram, looking as prim and unreadable as ever.
"Good evening, Lady Emilia," she said coolly. Then her gaze slid to me. Her eyes tracked me in that way that made you wonder if you'd failed some invisible test. "And to you as well, honored guest. Dinner will be served in approximately half an hour. Please make your way to the dining hall at your earliest convenience."
"Thank you, Ram. Will you be joining us this time?" Emilia asked, her voice light and sweet.
For a moment, I thought I saw something in Ram's expression flicker, like the ghost of a smile trying to remember how to exist.
"No. My sister and I will be eating later, Lady Emilia." She dipped into a shallow bow. "If that is all, I will take my leave."
Without another glance, she turned and disappeared down the hall.
Before Emilia could close the door, I reached out and put a palm on it.
"I think that's my cue to finally go drop all this stuff off in my room."
"Oh! Of course, then I'll see you at—
"And that's my cue to come bursting through the door!" An androgynous voice cut her off with glee.
Flying through the open doorway came a small, fluffy menace.
Puck did a loop around us both, swirling in a blur of silvery fur. His attention was clearly on Emilia at first… but eventually, the weight of his stare landed on me.
"I hear you've been keeping my daughter company, Ethan," he said, tone suddenly serious, eerily calm.
A chill crept into the room, sharp and icy, and for just a moment I could feel the memory of all those ice spikes he'd summoned with the flick of a paw.
Then the illusion shattered.
He plopped onto my head like I was nothing more than a glorified beanbag.
"Te-hehe! Just kidding! I totally knew you were in here."
He rolled lazily, tail swishing in smug little arcs.
"Anyyywhooo~ you've been behaving yourself, right, Lia?" he tried to act all innocent, but it seemed Emilia wasn't having any of it.
"Puck… It's not very nice to cut people off mid-sentence. Isn't that what you taught me?" She gently scolded the floating cat, walking over to peel him from my head like a sticker.
"You can go if you want, Ethan. I'll handle disciplining Puck and his poor behavior."
I chuckled at that. I didn't really mind Puck, he was a cat, which was already a massive win in my book. And honestly, his flippant attitude was a bit refreshing.
"See you at dinner, Lia. Puck." I gave them both a wave and stepped out into the hall.
—
My boots echoed against the stairwell I was walking down as I considered whether I'd actually accomplished anything today.
'Well, sure I did. I managed to take a break, scout out Arlam, buy some items, get some usable currency, potentially further my relationship with Subaru, and got closer with Emilia. That opens up a ton of branches for future development. I'd say I did a ton.'
I gave myself a small, satisfied nod as I reached the guest wing and stopped in front of my door.
Click.
I scanned the room. Nothing looked out of place.
Turning the lagmite lamp on with a soft pulse of light, I walked over and tossed my backpack onto the bed. My newly cleaned cloak followed suit, landing in a soft heap. Then came the real treasure: my new blanket.
I pulled it out and ran a hand through the soft fur. Once. Twice. Thirty times.
…Yeah. That was the good stuff.
Next, I organized the rest of my haul: a weapon maintenance kit and a couple of leftover pastries. I decided to save the sweets for a midnight snack.
Everything in place, I turned to leave… then paused.
Something shifted in my jacket pocket.
Frowning, I reached inside, and pulled out a small black book.
The same black book Lucan had given me.
'Right… I can't believe I almost forgot about you.'
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, I turned it over in my hands.
Front. Back.
It was plain, there was no other way to describe it. No title, no blurb, no markings. Just a faint, intricate pattern etched into the cover. Decorative, maybe. Meaningless, probably.
I shrugged and flipped it open.
And laughed.
"Haha—hah! Oh, fuck. That's actually hilarious."
It was empty.
Completely blank.
I rifled through the pages like there might be a hidden message, a tucked-away note, some divine recipe left behind by a long-dead sage.
Nothing.
'What did that prick even say? That it "guided him through his darkest moments?" Yeah, sure.'
I snorted, stuffed the book into my arm bag, and stood.
'Was keeping a diary really that world-shattering for you, Lucan? What a prank.'
Still chuckling, I moved for the door.
And then…
Something slithered across the back of my neck.
Not cold. Not sharp. But there. Like a sixth sense. An understanding.
I'd never felt anything like it before.
And yet, I understood exactly what it meant.
I froze.
My gaze lowered, slow as molasses, to the arm bag at my side.
The book was still inside.
Calling to me.
Author's Note:
It took me wayyyyy too long to get this chapter out! College started, and that took an axe to my free time.
Going forward I'm going to try and make shorter chapters rather than these long ahh ones.
Anywhooo sorry for the long wait, and much thanks to the people who still continued to throw power stones at me! You give me much motivation to continue writing even when I'm exhausted at the end of the day.