Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The scenery that came into view at the other end of the tunnel was... Well, it was white. Everything was snow white.

The stronghold of the Ducal House of Howard is and always has been in the north of the kingdom. I’d heard the whole duchy was buried in snow during the winter months, but even so, I hadn’t expected things to be quite so different from the royal capital. The professor had threatened—pardon, warned—that it was going to be cold, so I’d come dressed in a winter coat and a scarf the albatross had given me for my birthday last year, yet I had a feeling that wouldn’t be nearly enough.

Even with temperature-control spells and the heat-retaining double-pane windows, I could feel the cold seeping in. It was probably only as bearable as it was because the professor had booked me a seat in a first-class railcar. Had I been riding third class as I always did... It didn’t bear thinking about. The journey itself was pleasant, but I could tell the road ahead was going to be rough.

As for my farewell lunch, it had been delicious. That was the professor for you—he hadn’t been sampling delicacies from restaurants throughout the capital for nothing. So why did I still have misgivings?

The train arrived at the central city of the north—and right on time, according to my pocket watch. I took my luggage and stepped out onto the platform.

Thank goodness. I don’t know what I’d have done had it run late and gotten here after nightfall.

Sure enough, it was bitterly cold outside, so much so that I was shivering uncontrollably. The only saving grace was that it wasn’t currently snowing, and the already fallen snow had been cleared from the platform, which didn’t have a roof or any other sort of shelter overhead.

I set off toward the tasteful redbrick station building. According to the professor’s note, someone was supposed to meet me there. Lo and behold, no sooner had I stepped inside and started gazing around than someone called out to me.

“Excuse me, sir. Might you be Mr. Allen?”

I turned to see a late-middle-aged gentleman in a butler’s uniform. Standing with him was a girl wearing a maid’s apron over a pale blue gown. Her hair was adorned with a pure white ribbon, and she looked as though she was trying to hide behind the man’s legs.

Isn’t she a bit young for a maid...? I couldn’t help but wonder as I gave my answer. “Yes, my name is Allen.”

“I thought so. I am Graham Walker, head butler to Duke Howard. This is...Ellie, a maid in training.”

“I-I’m Ellie,” the girl stammered out before immediately returning to her hiding spot. Perhaps she was nervous around men. Either way, she was adorable; she had lustrous, shoulder-length hair the color of platinum, tinged with pale blue.

I shot Mr. Walker a questioning look, which he seemed to ignore as he reached for my bag. “Oh, don’t bother,” I said. “I’ll carry it myself.”

“I insist, sir. You are to be Lady Tina’s tutor, and this is part of my duty as a butler. Now, shall we go? I have a car waiting.”

“I-Is that so? Thank you, then.”

It sounded as though they had sent a car just for me, which I certainly wasn’t going to complain about—I hadn’t had many chances to ride in one even in the capital. Although the popularization of magical technology was bringing more and more mechanization to most fields, it still had its detractors, especially among the upper classes. It was for this reason that I was surprised to hear the Howards had adopted them. I could guess they were forward-thinking when it came to technologies.

We made some small talk as we walked to the car, covering all the basic topics—food, the weather, et cetera. Apparently, the conditions we were experiencing now barely qualified as snowfall in these parts. People would really hole up for the winter soon and not come out again until early spring.

It gets worse? That’s a bit depressing. I’m not great with cold weather. I’ve spent most of my time stuck with a spoiled girl who plays with fire, and... No, that’s enough of that. I’ve got to focus on the conversation.

“Still, I’m amazed you recognized me,” I remarked. “My appearance isn’t exactly distinctive, I must say.”

“Of course I recognized you, sir. It would have been more difficult not to.”

“What do you mean?”

“My master, Duke Walter Howard, and your professor have been firm friends for many years. The professor comes to stay with us several times a year, and for several years now, when in his cups, his talk always turns to—”

“His embarrassing jokes about me? I see.”

“Yes, sir. Although naturally, the professor does not joke, but rather boasts about you. I knew it was you at a glance.”

How much has the professor been telling them? I hope he hasn’t been spinning tales out of everything he can think of, but I wouldn’t put it past him. He never compromises when it comes to having a good time... I should write to the albatross about this soon.

✽

The car parked at the station was every bit as luxurious as I’d expected. Mr. Walker stowed my suitcase in the trunk and opened the door for me. There was just one problem.

“Please get in, sir. It’s a bit cramped, so would you mind having Ti—Ellie sit on your lap?”

“What? Well, no, but...wouldn’t she mind? I doubt she wants to sit on the lap of a man she just met. I’m sure all three of us could squeeze onto the seat.”

“I-I don’t mind. P-Please don’t worry about me...”

The girl, who hadn’t said a word during our walk to the car, raised her head to look at me. When I returned her gaze, however, she quickly looked away.

Well, she certainly looks like she minds. Was she expecting a four-seater? It must have come as a shock that this vehicle is only designed for two.

“Ellie has no objections,” Mr. Walker said plainly.

“Well...”

I decided to comply and settled into the passenger seat. The young maid followed, managing an “E-Escu—Excuse me” as she reluctantly climbed onto my lap.

When I saw the girl up close, I could tell that she was still but a child. She was probably in her early teens, but she was so light that I worried she wasn’t getting enough to eat. I could also see that the ribbon in her hair was embroidered. The designs were breathtakingly intricate, and the thread was extraordinary—I thought it was probably platinum. Her gown was of a high quality as well, though she didn’t seem used to wearing her maid’s apron. It was a little big on her, for one thing—almost as if she had borrowed it from someone else.

Could she be...?

It was only after Mr. Walker closed the car door and we set off that I realized just how freezing it was. The heater was doing its best, but it just couldn’t compete with the cold. I guess there was nothing to be done about that, though—leaving the heater on while they were away from the car was much too dangerous of an option. Automobiles were still a new technological advancement, and there was plenty of room for improvement.

The girl on my lap was shivering. Her gown was too thin, appearing to be her indoor clothes rather than something more appropriate for the weather. It seemed as though she had left the house in a hurry. I took off my scarf and wrapped it around her neck, causing her to look at me in surprise.

Rest assured, it’s warm and I wash it regularly.

“Excuse me,” I asked Mr. Walker, who was driving. “Would it be all right if I used a little magic?”

“Magic, sir? I don’t mind, as long as it isn’t anything dangerous. I would ask that you refrain from any fire spells.”

“Of course. Don’t worry—it’s only temperature control.”

“Temperature control, sir?”

“It’s just a little spell—nothing to be alarmed about.”

Why is he so surprised? Everyone in the professor’s class can cast this spell...although one of us does occasionally overdo it and cause an explosion. I wish she’d learn some control. Almost turning the classroom into a scorching hell without warning is a kind of torture.

The trick is to adjust three elements—fire, water, and wind—little by little. It’s easy to cause an explosion if you try to raise the temperature all at once, so you have to watch out for that. Conventional methods tend to only use fire, but I think it would take a real master to pull that off well enough. This method at least works for anyone with mana.

There had been a temperature-control spell on the train car I arrived on, but sure enough, it had been too fixated on a single element. A compound-element spell would have made for a more comfortable trip.

The car’s interior was slowly but steadily warming up.

Good. This should be more bearable.

“I suppose this is a perfect example of you ‘exceeding expectations,’” Mr. Walker remarked.

“A-Amazing...” the girl marveled. “You make it look easy.”

Despite their compliments, the spell really wasn’t much of an achievement; it was just something that nobody else had tried.

Now that I could relax, I had time to watch the scenery out the window. It hadn’t yet snowed much this year—at least, not according to what I’d been told. It didn’t snow at all where I came from, and the only other places I’d gone between over the past few years were the royal capital and the south, which didn’t see much either; so from my perspective, even the snow piled up on the roadsides was shocking. I was a little impressed that the roads themselves were kept so clear. That must have been a result of the Howard family’s good governance.

Speaking of the Howard family, there was something that had been bothering me ever since my departure from the capital. “May I ask you a question?” I inquired of Mr. Walker.

“Any question I can answer, sir.”

“I can’t deny it was a stroke of good luck for me, but why did Duke Howard suddenly decide to hire a private tutor? The Royal Academy entrance exams are this coming spring. Hasn’t anyone been teaching Lady Tina before now?”

“Oh? Did the professor not tell you?”

“No, he hasn’t told me a thing. He gave me a train ticket, as well as a sheet of notepaper containing the duke’s address and a brief notation that someone would meet me at the station. I think he sent a familiar ahead of me, though.”

Mr. Walker paused. “I see that the professor and I will need to have a long talk.”

“When you do, please allow me—in fact, please allow all of his students to join you.”

Mr. Walker was apparently a victim too. A comrade!

Honestly, that professor... I think he’s a good person at heart who cares about his students, and when it comes to magic, he’s incredible—definitely among the ten best in the whole kingdom...but he almost always under-explains. And half-deliberately too. We must do our duty to contain the damages!

The girl on my lap had been fidgeting nervously for a short while. “Sorry. Have I made it a little too hot in here?” I asked.

“N-No, not at all,” she replied.

Oh, she looked down again. I guess that shouldn’t come as a surprise; I’m a man she’s never met before, and she’s sitting on my lap. It’s no wonder she’s nervous. I won’t tell anyone about this, of course. Adding to the number of ridiculous stories about me won’t do me any good.

In the meantime, the duke’s residence had come into view. I had been to Lydia’s family home a number of times, and this was every bit as large; but while the Leinster mansion was so gaudy that I could only describe it as “spectacular,” the mansion up ahead was devoid of unnecessary decoration. It had a rough, rustic look about it. I had heard that the Howards were a military family who had guarded the north for generations, and the sight of their home was enough to convince me that was true.

A guard opened the front gate upon our arrival and ushered us inside. We were stopped outside the main entrance, at which point Mr. Walker slid naturally from the driver’s seat, circled around to my side of the car, and opened the door for me.

How professional!

I naturally allowed the girl to climb out first and then followed suit.

“Thank you for traveling all this way, sir.”

“No, thank you for having me. And my apologies to you, Your Highness.”

“N-Not at all. I should be thanking you for— Huh?”

The girl was midway through a smiling admission when she stiffened before my eyes. Honestly. How dull-witted would I need to be to have missed that? It was obvious.

“What? Oh, um, when did you...?” the self-proclaimed “Ellie” asked, evidently flustered.

She makes such funny faces. Did I pack a video orb?

“When I met you at the station building.”

“Oho,” Mr. Walker interjected.

“H-How could you tell?!”

“Your clothing was too luxurious, though the biggest giveaway was that you simply don’t look like a maid. Your uniform doesn’t fit you, and you aren’t wearing a white lace headband. Did you borrow someone else’s uniform in a hurry? If so, there are only so many people who would go as far as disguising themselves to get a look at me. And finally, there’s the magnificent snow-white ribbon in your hair; I’ve only seen a few accessories of that quality, even in the royal capital.”

“I would expect no less from you, sir.”

Her Highness groaned, averted her gaze in apparent embarrassment, and then ran inside, leaving Mr. Walker and me behind. Maybe the shame had become too much for her to bear.

Oh, my scarf...

“My apologies, sir. The young mistress insisted on accompanying me.”

“No, it’s only natural that she would be curious about her new tutor. I do have my reservations about the maid uniform, although it was charming.”

“As you say, sir. I ask that you tell her so in person later on; she will surely be delighted. As for now, the master cannot wait to meet you. Right this way.” Mr. Walker gestured me toward the massive, solid wooden entrance.

All right. Time to get to work.

✽

The mansion interior, like the exterior, was more subdued than I had expected. Depending on how charitable one was with their description, it was either practical and sturdy or noticeably plain. Still, the extensive use of wood lent it a certain warmth that was somehow more relaxing than stonework.

There was also a heating system, which I was certainly grateful for. Controlling the temperature in a house this large must have been quite a bother; it looked like they had run pipes through the whole mansion and were using what I could only assume was hot water to heat it. The glass windows also had two—or was it three?!—panes, something that was unseen in buildings in the capital.

Fascinating.

“Mr. Allen.” Mr. Walker’s voice interrupted my survey of the hall. “Please step this way, sir. As for your luggage... Ellie, carry it up to his room.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

A maid who looked just a little older than Her Highness ran up to me. She wore a nervous expression, and her blonde hair was tied into two bunches. So this was the real Ellie.

Oh, if you rush like that...

She very nearly fell down right in front of me. I managed to catch her just in time, and she let out a little cry. “Whoa there. Are you all right?” I asked.

“Y-Y-Yes, sir. M-M-My humble apologies.”

“Ellie, how many times must I tell you not to run in the house?” Mr. Walker admonished her, exasperated. She was hanging her head and trembling.

A clumsy maid?

I helped the real Ellie to her feet before handing her my bag and coat. When I saw her like this, I thought she really did look a little like Her Highness, although I would be hard-pressed to say how. There was just something about her.

“I’m glad you weren’t hurt,” I said. “Please take care of my luggage.”

“Y-Yes, sir! Leave it to me.”

“Thank you.”

“Ah. Um, excuse me...”

“Oh, pardon me.” I had rubbed her head without thinking—a bad habit I have with my little sister and younger schoolmates.

Oh no. If the albatross finds out, she’ll treat me like some kind of deviant again. But then, why is she always asking me to rub her head? We’ve known each other for a long time, but so much about her remains a mystery to me. I could feel Mr. Walker fixing me with a piercing stare; he had been watching the entire time. Wh-Why, I wonder...?

“You truly are just as I’ve been told, sir.”

“I’m extremely curious how the professor has described me...but at the same time, I’m not sure I want to ask.”

“He said a great many things, sir...including that you have ‘a natural way with younger ladies.’”

“Wh-What a way to put it! I just have a bit of experience dealing with them, that’s all.”

“Is that so, sir? Now please, this way.”

I can tell he doesn’t believe me in the slightest. Damn that professor. The next time I see him, I’m going to make him pay me back for ruining my good name. With interest.

As we walked, a black wooden door came into view at the end of a long hallway. Mr. Walker knocked, and a beat later, a deep voice from inside instructed us to “come in.” The head butler opened the door and gestured for me to enter alone.

I see. A final interview. Well, it’s no use getting cold feet now.

I nodded and went inside. There, I was met by the sight of a large office desk, and, seated behind it, a large man with hair the same color as Her Highness’s. As for other furnishings, a bookcase covered one wall, but it was plainly made.

There was a sudden noise as the door shut behind me.

Well, there’s no escaping now.

“Excuse me,” I said.

“Oh, you’re here. I suppose I should say it’s nice to meet you, but I can’t help feeling that I know you already. It must be because he’s told me so much about you. My name’s Walter, though I am officially known as Duke Howard.”

“My name is Allen. My faith in the professor was never high to begin with, but I must admit, it’s sunk even lower over the course of my day.”

The duke laughed. “So he roped you in too, did he? He’s always been that way. He can’t help wanting to boast about anyone he’s taken a liking to.”

“Is that so?”

“Sorry to call you all the way from the capital. I know you’ve just been through a lot, but I really am counting on you here. I’m sure you’ve heard about our situation. When I consulted your professor about it, he gave you a ringing endorsement: ‘Allen’s the only man for the job; no one else could manage it. Hire him. You must hire him!’ We’ve known each other a long time, but I’ve never known him to recommend a student so heartily. Naturally, I haven’t told my daughter about your circumstances—the court sorcerer issue, that is—only that you’re to be her private tutor. Please have no fear on that account.”

“I’m grateful for your consideration, but I must apologize—the professor has hardly told me a thing. He said only that I’m to be Her Highness, Lady Tina’s private tutor until she is admitted to the Royal Academy. Nothing more.”

The duke fell silent for a moment before letting out a deep, deep sigh and resting a hand on his forehead. I know. Any normal person would have actually explained the job. He then looked back at me and said:

“The next time he visits, I’ll give him a good thrashing.”

“Please invite me and his other students. Mr. Walker too. We’ll all join in.”

“So be it.”

“So, I did ask a few questions during the drive here, but what haven’t I been told? What happened to my predecessor?”

“I want you to serve as my youngest daughter Tina’s private tutor until the coming spring—that much is true—but not exactly ‘until she’s admitted to the Royal Academy.’”

“Meaning what, Your Highness?”

The duke rose from his chair and looked out the window. He was of the same generation as the professor, meaning he was in his fifties, but it was hard to believe that just by looking at him. His impressive, muscular physique gave him quite a youthful appearance.

“The north has been in my family’s care since the kingdom was founded,” the duke said. “I am proud of that fact, but as you can see, this is a harsh land for people to live in. It also sits on our borders with other nations and has been the scene of numerous wars. That’s why we Howards are seen as a military family.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“My two daughters are my only children. My wife passed away when Tina was still a very young age, you see.” There was a pregnant pause before the duke continued. “I don’t plan to marry again, and no one else in the Ducal House of Howard has martial talent; as a military family, the line will end with me.” Again, there came a pause. “Although my eldest daughter did enroll in the Royal Academy against my wishes, she seems much too gentle to my eyes, and I cannot pretend that she has a particular aptitude for magic. She simply isn’t cut out for military life. She tries, but I doubt she’ll ever master the supreme spell that has been passed down in our family for generations.”

I was beginning to see the bigger picture. In other words, the duke’s request was...

“I want you to convince Tina to give up on the Royal Academy for me. I’m sorry to say that my youngest daughter has no talent for magic whatsoever.”

Professor, you’ve foisted a lot of trouble on me, but this is beyond the pale.

Convincing Her Highness to give up on the Royal Academy... I could understand doing the opposite—I’d received several requests like that before and experienced no issues helping those students to qualify—but I’d never convinced a person to stop trying entirely. Gaining admittance to the Royal Academy and graduating with suitable grades was a prerequisite for every important office in the kingdom, yet the duke wanted to make someone—his own daughter, no less—forgo those opportunities. There had to be a lot more to this.

“When you say she has no talent for magic,” I queried, “what do you mean?”

“I mean just that. At her age, Tina can’t even cast the simplest of elementary spells. She has mana—more than my eldest daughter or I do, even—and yet...she can’t conjure up a flicker of flame, a drop of water, the gentlest breeze, a crackle of lightning, or the tiniest speck of earth. Even ice magic, which our family has the greatest affinity for, is completely beyond her. I’ve asked many well-known sorcerers to find the cause, but they all drew blanks.”

“I’ve never heard of a case like this before. Still, while magical aptitude is a prerequisite for the Royal Academy, it has in recent years been admitting students for outstanding talent in other fields. That includes latent ability. Does she really need to give up on enrollment immediately? I’m sure the professor agrees with me. If you don’t mind my asking, how is she academically?”

The duke paused. “He told me the same thing when he recommended you. You may think this a father’s bias, but my daughter excels academically, enough so that she puts even adults to shame. She’s also a kind girl, much like her sister. But the Royal Academy would never be lax enough to admit someone who won’t be able to use magic until who knows when, no matter how much mana she has. They’ve also become especially wary of admitting irregular students since the day you and Lydia enrolled. It seems the headmaster is more welcoming in that regard, but even he can’t force everything to go his way.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” I replied, though it took me a moment to respond.

As the foremost school in the kingdom, the Royal Academy attracts students who can be summarized in one word: excellent. They spend their three years intensively studying academic subjects, magic, and swordsmanship, among other things, though the coursework is challenging and intense even for the brightest minds in the kingdom. An approximate fifty percent of students are forced to repeat a year, so graduating after the standard three years is considered an achievement in itself.

It is technically possible to graduate in less than three years, but students who manage to accomplish this are extremely rare. I hear there have only been a handful over the past few decades, all of whom went on to make names for themselves, for better or worse.

A few years ago, there was an uproar at the academy when two students graduated after just a single year. One was even recognized as being among the finest sorceresses in the kingdom despite having barely been able to use magic when she enrolled. Of course, these two students were myself and the albatross, Lydia—the willful eldest daughter of the Ducal House of Leinster. She was the only exceptional one; I had just gotten dragged along for the ride and ended up graduating with her.

Now that I think about it, I reckon they were just kicking me out to be her “caretaker.”

“I know about Lydia as well,” the duke said. “I know she didn’t learn a decent command of magic until after she enrolled, and I know that she made it through the entrance exams with her swordsmanship alone. When you consider that, it sounds as though there might be some promise, but...”

“It’s the truth, Your Highness. To be precise, she learned to use magic after she met me. Her swordsmanship was always the very best, though.”

“But I also hear she was able to cast at least elementary spells. Tina, on the other hand...”

Lydia simply wasn’t a detail-oriented person, and in my opinion, her inability to use magic had resulted from an issue with how she had been taught prior to her enrollment. You’d never get anywhere teaching that girl theory—she only learned intuitively.

Even to begin with, Lydia had possessed incredible potential. I’d taught her a few tricks, and a day later—albeit after some...other things happened—she was casting advanced spells. Back then, I’d been completely stunned; I seemed to recall our classmates being dumbfounded too. The day after that, she had managed to fire a supreme spell at me.

While I don’t want to say any more about that, I think I at least deserve some credit for having survived it. Then again, she seemed genuinely overjoyed and I was ultimately fine, so things did work out.

Still, the duke was right: Lydia had at least been able to use a little magic—enough to light a candle—before she enrolled in the academy. Her Highness, Lady Tina, in contrast, couldn’t use any magic at all, even though she had the mana for it. That could prove a challenge.

“Tina has a strong sense of responsibility,” the duke said. “She believes that, because she was born into the Howard family, it is only natural that she enrolls in the Royal Academy. Her determination to take on her duty gladdens my heart, but I wouldn’t object to her pursuing a...different path. Even if she can’t use magic, she’s still vital to our family.”

“Vital how, Your Highness?”

“It would be quicker to show you. Follow me.”

With that, the duke rose slowly to his feet and made for the door. I wasted no time in hurrying along after him.

Now, what does he have to show me?

✽

The duke led me out of the main residence and to a detached building plated with thick glass panes. As we got closer, I broke out into a light sweat.

Could this be...?

“Is this a greenhouse?” I asked. “There aren’t any this large even in the capital. And these plants are...”

“You’re well-informed,” the duke replied. “I see he wasn’t lying when he said your encyclopedic knowledge isn’t limited to magic.”

“Her Highness grew these?”

“She did. That girl has been fascinated by horticulture and agronomy since she was little. I was surprised to find her reading my late wife’s books, and the next thing I knew, she’d begun growing plants of her own. Winters here are long and springs short; I built this greenhouse so that she would always have a place to grow things.”

He built a facility like this for his daughter’s hobby? Great nobles never do things by halves.

Still, I approved of the project. Her Highness had set her sights on the horticultural and agronomic issues faced in a snowy climate. That was extraordinary for a girl her age.

Yes, I see now.

“You want her to continue this research. Is that right?”

The duke took a momentary pause. “You’re as perceptive as he said. You’re right. Thanks to the research she began, my duchy now yields crops that we couldn’t grow here previously. We may even become able to grow flowers and other plants in sufficient quantities to sell to the capital. Both as a duke and a father, I want her to stay here and continue her work.”

Well now, the professor’s saddled me with an even trickier problem than I expected. Should I have been more cautious? I was now caught in the middle of a daughter whose sights were set on the Royal Academy, eager to maintain her family’s honor, and a father who wanted her to instead continue her successful research. And I’m supposed to untangle this mess somehow? Damn that professor. He rushed me on purpose because he knew I’d have refused the moment I found out these details. I’ll need to pay him back for this one of these days.

Albeit with a sigh, I decided to broach one of my main concerns. “May I make a request, Your Highness?”

“By all means.”

“I understand your feelings on the matter. Personally, however, I feel that Her Highness ought to choose her own path. If she gains a command of magic that meets the standards necessary to enroll in the Royal Academy and wishes to do so...” I looked the duke straight in the eye. “I would like you to give her your permission.”

Once again, the duke took a moment before answering. “I see you don’t mince words.”

“I was asked to play an unfavorable part from the beginning.”

“I understand. If you can teach Tina to use magic to the standards of the Royal Academy, I will do everything in my power to support her. I swear it on my late wife.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. In that case...” I was unable to suppress a smile as a lone thought crossed my mind: This could be fun.

Lydia had once been convinced that she had no talent for magic, and the most I had done to change that was set her straight and give her just an (arguably) small push. This time, my job was to help a girl unable to use magic for unknown reasons. But if she had mana, there had to be an explanation. She certainly sounded as though she was worth teaching—challenging the unknown is always fun.

“I will find a way,” I proclaimed. “I may not look it, but I’ve been called ‘the Brain of the Lady of the Sword.’ I’m sure I can do something to help.”

✽

My interview with the duke came to an end, and it was decided that my tutoring duties would begin the following day. I was grateful to have at least some time to rest—it had been nearly evening when I arrived at the mansion, and I was weary from the journey.

I was guided from the duke’s office and soon found myself seated in a massive dining hall.

Time for dinner!

“All right. Is everyone here?” Duke Howard asked. “In that case—a toast to our guest from afar!”

“Cheers!” came a chorus of shouts.

The longtime servants of the ducal house wasted no time before digging in. All at once, they reached for the large platters set atop the long table, talking cheerfully all the while. It was an impressive spectacle.

As for the food itself, there wasn’t a huge variety. Bread, soup, salad, and...is this grilled venison and boar? I decided to reach for some myself. Good. This venison is plainly seasoned but delicious. The herbs complement it nicely.

“What do you think?” the duke addressed me cheerfully. “I realize you’re used to fine dining in the capital, so it might seem somewhat lacking. We don’t have the best of table manners either, do we?”

“Surely you jest, Your Highness. I’m a poor student, so there being meat is enough to bring a tear to my eye; I’ll sometimes go an entire week on nothing but bread and soup. I truly mean it when I say the food is delicious. And as for table manners, I’m fed up with all those rules of etiquette, so you needn’t worry on my account. Does your whole household always dine together?”

“Is that so? I’m glad to hear it. Yes, this is a northern tradition. We also cook with the same ingredients you’d find in an ordinary household.”

“Certainly a nice tradition...” I muttered as I surveyed the hustle and bustle around us. The custom was probably a product of the harsh living conditions in this snowy land, but this was evidence enough that it brought people together and put smiles on their faces. Even Mr. Walker was smiling gently as he took his place beside the duke, a beautiful glass bottle filled with red liquid in his hands.

“Wine, Your Highness?”

“Please. What about you, Allen? You’re seventeen; no one would object.”

“I would normally love some, but I’ll need to go over my preparations for tomorrow when I return to my room. For that reason, I must very, very regretfully decline.”

“What a shame,” the duke replied. “I’ll have a drink, Graham. Have one with me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly...” Mr. Walker began.

“Where’s the harm? Tina and Ellie can look after Allen. Speaking of which, where have those girls gone off to?”

“The young mistress went to dress for dinner a moment ago. I believe they should arrive shortly.”

“Oh, I see. In that case, come join me once they’re here.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

I would have liked a drink too... Maybe I should ask for one if I manage to get Her Highness into the Royal Academy. Mmm. This soup is just as nicely seasoned as the venison.

I was a short while into enjoying my meal when the dining hall doors opened, and all eyes turned to the two girls who had stepped into the hall. The first, who had on a deep-blue dress, had blue-tinged platinum hair that was tied behind her head with an elegant ribbon and decorated at the front with a single hair ornament. The second, wearing the uniform of a maid, had blonde hair that was tied into two bunches. They were Her Highness, Lady Tina and her maid, Ellie.

“Oh, Tina, Ellie. Come here.”

“Yes, father.”

“Y-Yessir!”

The pair walked over to a spot beside the duke. Her Highness met my gaze, but then she quickly looked away.

What’s this...?

“Allen, allow me to introduce you—this is my daughter, Tina. She’s just turned thirteen. Tina, this is Allen. As I told you, he’ll be your private tutor starting tomorrow.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Allen. I’m Tina Howard. I’ve heard so much about you. I look forward to your lessons, sir.”

“And I look forward to teaching you. Ellie, thank you for helping me with my luggage earlier. Weren’t you cold in the car?”

“Huh? Wh-What car?” the maid stammered.

“Mr. Allen, would you mind answering some questions for me?” Her Highness cut in, interrupting her confused maid. Her cheeks were softly flushed, and I couldn’t help but grin at her slightly displeased expression.

I see what the professor meant now—this girl is adorable. She makes such funny faces too, although that might not be a proper thought to have about a girl styled “Her Highness” from one of the best families in the kingdom.

I chuckled, which only made Her Highness’s cheeks redder. She sure wears her heart on her sleeve, I thought. Oh, there’s one thing I need to ask her father about...

“Your Highness,” I said.

“Please, don’t call me that; it’s much too grand for me. ‘Walter’ is fine.”

“Then, Walter, sir...is Her Highness going to be my only—”

“You’ll be teaching both Tina and me,” the maid interrupted. “I’ll be your student too, Mr. Allen.”

“—student?”

“You really are perceptive,” the duke said plainly. “I was just coming to that, Ellie.”

“Y-Yessir!” the maid answered, standing at attention, frozen stiff with nerves. Even Mr. Walker seemed anxious for some reason.

“You see, Allen, Ellie is Graham’s granddaughter. That makes her the sole successor to the Walker family, which has stood by the Howards for generations. I’d very much like to place her in your charge as well. Graham has already given his approval.”

“Does that mean Miss Walker will also be enrolling in the Royal Academy?” I asked.

“Yes,” the duke replied. He then paused for a moment. “I’d be delighted if you could help her to reach that level, but...” The glum looks on his and Mr. Walker’s faces, as well as Miss Walker’s own dejected expression, suggested that this was going to be an uphill battle. Still, there was something more important on my mind.

“Miss Walker, might I ask you one question?”

“Y-Yessir.”

I assume she can’t help it, but I wish she would relax a little. What to do? Hmm... At times like this...

I smiled at the maid and gave her a pat on the head.

“Huh? E-Excuse me, um...”

Mr. Walker made a noise of subtle disapproval.

“Oh, my deepest apologies. That really has become a bad habit of mine...” I admitted, taking my hand away at once. “As I was saying—what do you want to do?”

“I-I’ll do as I’m told,” the maid stuttered.

“That’s not what I mean. Do you want to go to the Royal Academy with Her High—excuse me, with Lady Tina?”

“O-Of course I do! I adore Lady Tina. Plus, I’m her personal maid.”

“Thank you very much. That sets my mind at ease. Duke Walter, Mr. Walker—I’ve accepted Ellie Walker as my student. Miss Walker, I look forward to teaching you.”

“Good,” the duke said. “She’ll be in your care.”

“Thank you, sir. Please do your best for her,” Mr. Walker added.

“Y-Yessir!” Miss Walker exclaimed. “Um, Mr. Allen...”

“Just ‘Allen’ is fine,” I noted.

“I-In that case, Allen, sir...just call me ‘Ellie’ as well. Please.”

There’s determination in her eyes. She’s a nice girl too.

“In that case,” Her Highness interjected after a short pause, “I’ll call you ‘sir’ from now on as well. I trust you have no objections?” She was clearly annoyed; it seemed that I had teased her a little too much.

“Understood. ‘Ellie’ and ‘Tina’ it is, then.”

Oh dear. It looks like I really do have a rocky road ahead of me...

✽

“Go to bed early today. You must be tired after your long journey.”

It was at that welcome command from the duke that I had retreated to the room that had been prepared for me.

It’s enormous! Wow. It even has a little icebox.

While lying on the large bed, I ensured that everything was ready for my lesson the next day. I had made all of the necessary preparations while on the train, but it never hurt to double-check.

I had managed to infer some things from the professor’s initial remarks, useless as they were, but it seemed this job was going to be an order of magnitude more challenging than I’d anticipated. Still, it was too soon to give up—meeting Her Highness in person had all but confirmed to me that she had an enormous reserve of mana, and I was certain that I could figure something out if given the opportunity. I was still going to test her for the written exam tomorrow, but if she was doing horticultural and agronomical research at her age, one could assume she would more than meet the requirements.

I never want to deal with a repeat of what happened with the albatross, so if possible, I’d like to find some other way to help her cast spells.

As for Miss Walker, I couldn’t imagine she would experience any similar problems; it was her personality that would prove an issue, if anything. Mr. Walker and his wife were apparently her only family. There seemed to be more to that story, which I hoped to learn at some point down the line.

Anyway, I’ll do all that I can for them. They’re determined and they’re trying to improve—there must be a way for them to succeed.

With that thought, I closed my eyes and gave in to sleep. Not once did the court sorcerer exam appear in my dreams.

✽

I returned to my room the next morning after having breakfast. I hadn’t seen Her Highness or Miss Walker in the dining room, though I had gone there on the late side; they had likely already finished eating by the time I arrived. I had been told that they would call when they were ready for me, so I made sure my appearance was in order and then waited patiently.

Maybe I teased them a little too much yesterday...

As that thought played on my mind, there came a knock at my door. “E-Excuse me,” said a nervous voice.

“Come in.”

Miss Walker entered the room and gave an energetic bow.

As I thought—she’s truly in her element here. You can tell she’s a real maid.

“I-I’ve come to fetch you. L-Lady Tina is waiting. P-Please, come this way. I-I’ll carry your things.”

“Here. Thank you very much.”

“N-Not at all! Th-This is my duty as a maid, after all.”

Hm? I couldn’t help but notice that Miss Walker was shooting me furtive glances as she spoke. Have I done anything to make her this nervous around me? Not that I can remember... Oh well. She’ll warm up to me over time, I’m sure.

I followed her lead through the mansion, and it was then that I noticed we were headed in the direction of the greenhouse the duke had shown me the day before.

“Here we are. Lady Tina is in the room just through here. Um...” Ellie hesitated. “Allen, sir...I need to help my grandfather today. It’ll only be this once, but it means I can’t participate in your lesson. I’m s-sorry to spring this on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I only have a simple test planned for today; I can give you a copy later for you to work through. Thank you for carrying my things.”

“E-Eep! Um, I mean...”

“Oh. Again, my apologies.”

I had succumbed to my bad habit and rubbed her head. Now that I think about it, I made the same absentminded mistake yesterday too. I see... So, that’s why. I’ll need to be more careful.

After an apologetic bow to Miss Walker, I went through the greenhouse that was home to so many unique species of plant. As I approached the far end, I caught sight of a small cabin.

The duke had a private room built out here for her? Talk about luxurious. He really is a doting father.

I knocked on the door and was promptly welcomed inside with a “Come in. It’s not locked.” The temperature inside the cabin was controlled to be perfectly comfortable, and there was a large window in the ceiling through which I could see the outside glass of the greenhouse.

How much did it cost to build all this and gather all these plants? I’d better not think about it too much; the answer can’t be good for my mental health.

Her Highness was seated in a chair, busily writing something. I waited for her to notice me before nodding hello, and it was then that she scrambled to her feet. The clothes she wore were neat and mostly white.

“Good morning. I see you’re not wearing a maid’s uniform today,” I remarked.

“Good morning to you too, sir.” She paused and then added, “I see you’re a little mean.”

“You looked charming in it. Oh, but don’t forget the headband next time.”

“I-I knew it! You are mean!”

I had to laugh. “My humble apologies—allow me to try that again. I will serve as your tutor for the next three months. I may not be much help, but I look forward to teaching you.”

“And I look forward to your lessons. Th-That said, I need to lay down some ground rules!” Her Highness placed her hands on her hips, stood up straight, and threw out her chest. I was sure she was doing her best to look dignified, but it wasn’t enough to overpower the impression she had made the day before—she came across as a little kid trying to act grown-up. “First of all, I forbid you from calling me ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Lady’ from now on! As I told you last night, I’m going to be your student. Call me ‘Tina’ instead, sir.”

“Would you settle for ‘Ellie’?”

“I would not! Jeez! And don’t interrupt me while I’m speaking! Second, I forbid you from lying about anything that concerns me. Even if you have something bad to say, I’m prepared to hear it.”

“I understand. I won’t hold back.”

This must really be bothering her. I’m sure people have told her all sorts of things in the past, and she seems like a girl who takes things seriously. I should teach her how to relax at some point.

“Finally, when my lessons are over, um...”

“Yes?”

“If you think that I’ve done well that day, I want you to praise me.”

“Is that all? I can do that.”

“Huh?”

“A lot of nobles aren’t used to receiving praise—possibly because they’re considered too capable to need it—so it works wonders at raising their spirits. That, in turn, improves their grades. I’m in favor of giving my students plenty of praise, even when they don’t ask for it.”

“I-Is that so?”

“Now, Tina—I think it’s time we got started. Oh, but first...”

“R-Right! Um...”

“A handshake. It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

I clasped her little hand with a grin. Thirteen years old, huh? When I was her age, I— No, it doesn’t even bear thinking about. That said, I guess it was only four years ago. Looking back, I’ve come a long way. Or should I say I was dragged a long way?

Her Highness’s voice brought me back to my senses. “S-Sir, would you mind, um...letting go of my hand now?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Ah, no need to apologize. Actually, why don’t you keep—”

“Tina, I’d like to start today’s lesson by finding out what you’re capable of.”

“What I’m capable of...?” she repeated, looking nonplussed.

Yup. She’s adorable all right. I bet she’ll be a stunning beauty in a few years.

“I assume you know that the Royal Academy entrance exam is divided into a written test, an interview, and a magic practical.”

“Yes, of course.”

“And I’m told you’re absolutely hopeless when it comes to the practical.”

Her Highness took a moment to answer. “Yes, sir.”

“In that case, we ought to spend as much of our three months together as possible focusing on strategies for the practical. But I can’t effectively divide up our time unless I know how prepared you are for the written test.”

“That’s true...but how will you gauge that? The Royal Academy exam is remade from scratch each year; it’s famously difficult to prepare for.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Huh?!”

What a funny face. I’ll surreptitiously record it on a video orb. I just hope I brought enough.

“Test questions follow certain trends, even at the Royal Academy,” I explained. “The only reason nobody notices is because they’re made for decades—or perhaps even centuries—at a time, rather than just a few years. Honestly, the headmaster is such a nuisance. Does he think everyone lives as long as he does?”

“...So, you’re saying that it is possible to plan for the written tests?”

“I am. I’ve even made up some questions, which I’d like you to work through today.”

The dumbfounded look on Her Highness’s face was priceless. But that night, when I was grading her completed test—which she had received a pat on the head and some praise for giving to me, of course—I found myself speechless. In brief: this young lady was as brilliant as Lydia.

✽

Lydia Leinster, the albatross around my neck and the eldest daughter of the ducal house guarding the south of the kingdom, was unmistakably a genius. Most people knew her as “the Lady of the Sword,” but she was far more than just a swordswoman—at seventeen years of age, she had mastered the supreme fire spell “Firebird,” the symbol of the House of Leinster.

When it came to scholarship, Lydia had managed to graduate from the Royal Academy in one year rather than three, and she had done so at the very top of her class. She was now expected to graduate from the Royal University’s four-year program after just three years, again at the top of her class, and she would have graduated even sooner had the university not begged her to prolong her education. There was no doubting that she was a prodigy among prodigies or that she would play an important role in the kingdom’s future.

As well as all these things, Lydia was also a sight to behold; I still remembered being entirely unable to look away one time she had worn a red dress. I rarely admitted this to her, however—too many compliments tended to go to her head.

Of course, all these positive attributes were immediately canceled out by her awful attitude toward me, leaving her with an overall score of zero.

Has she gotten it into her head that she’s allowed to do absolutely anything she wants to me? I realize that not many people could deal with her whims, but there are still limits to— Ah. I digress.

From what I could tell, Lydia now had an equal when it came to scholarship; I doubted that even she could have done better on this mock exam I had made. Her Highness had a good chance of getting a record-setting high score—an achievement that was jaw-dropping in itself.

The questions on the Royal Academy entrance exam were drawn from a variety of distinct fields: magic, linguistics, history, economics, political science, ecology, meteorology... It was no wonder then that so many prospective students gave up on trying to plan for them. It might have been possible to prepare for a few years’ worth of exams, but not for centuries’ worth. The truth was, however, that knowledge barely even factored into the results. Having the basics down was of course necessary and worthy of a few points...but that twisted headmaster, who boasted that he had stopped minding his age when he reached three hundred, was interested in but a single question:

“Why do you wish to enroll in this academy, and what will you show me after you graduate?”

That was all. He would ask that same question over and over again, and the various fields featured in the test existed only to camouflage it. He was like a devil sneering at the naive kids who foolishly attempted to prepare themselves. It was no wonder that he was on bad terms with the professor—their minds worked in much the same way.

How did I know all this, you ask? Because my answers had gotten a passing grade, even though I had missed answering several knowledge problems. From what I remembered, the headmaster had paid me a visit in person to make sure, serving as my opponent in the magic practical. That brought back memories.

I wonder why he was a little teary-eyed that time? I don’t think I did anything that unusual—I only dismantled an advanced spell.

Now, Her Highness had written the correct answer to every knowledge problem on my mock exam. How many thirteen-year-olds in the kingdom could read Ancient Elvish, the greatest nuisance in the headmaster’s vast arsenal? None who were still studying for their exams—that had been my assumption. But as it turned out, there was one all the way out here.

The essay that Her Highness had written was also nearly perfect; in fact, it was even on par with the graduate theses of university students. I could see why the duke wanted to keep her on hand.

What to do? My job is to convince her to give up on the Royal Academy, but with these results, I really think she ought to go to the royal capital and experience the world. For now... Yes, I’ll think about that once I’ve seen her magic for myself.

✽

“Here are your tests from yesterday,” I said to Her Highness. “Ellie is busy running a small errand for me, so I’ll give you yours first.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

There’s really no need to be so nervous.

Her Highness’s cheeks flushed a little as she watched me stick a gold star on her answer sheet before passing it back to her. Her hair bobbed adorably in apparent delight, and I snuck a discreet shot of the sight with an orb.

“As you can see, Tina, I think you are already more than capable of passing the written exam. There is a good chance you might even score high enough to be top of your class. Your essay is especially excellent, even by the standards of the royal capital.”

“Oh, um... Th-Thank you, sir.”

“With results like these, it should be safe for us to keep written test preparations to the bare minimum. That is why, starting today, I’d like to focus on training for the practical—and on magic, in particular.”

“Magic, sir...?” Her happily swaying hair stopped dead, now drooping limply by her ears.

She really does seem convinced that her situation is hopeless. I’ll need to do something about that.

“Let’s start by going over the basics. Tina, what are the fundamental elements of magic?”

“S-Sir, magic is divided into the fundamental elements of water, earth, fire, wind, and lightning. A small minority of people also manifest the special elements, light and darkness. Every person is born with a general affinity for one or more of these seven elements, and these affinities determine their strengths and weaknesses.”

“And the Ducal House of Howard?”

“Our family line has an affinity for water and wind. The first Duke Howard, who helped to found the kingdom, excelled in both and was thus able to manifest the element of ice.”

“Half correct. Well done.”

“Half, sir?”

As a textbook definition, that would get a perfect score. If you ask me, though, the reality is a little different.

“I’m going to preface this by saying that these are my own ideas. You won’t find them written down anywhere, let alone in a textbook, so please don’t mention them to anyone.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“You mentioned the ‘fundamental elements,’ but what is a fundamental element?”

“Huh? Haven’t they already been determined through research going back to ancient times?”

“They have indeed. But in that case, what element was the temperature-control spell that I showed you in the car?”

“I assume it was a fire, water, and wind spell.”

“According to your current ideas, fire and water are opposites, so that should be an extremely difficult spell to master. In fact, temperature-control spells have only been introduced in things that can carry magical apparatuses of a considerable size—trains and large ships, for instance. Do you not find it strange that I was able to cast one?”

“W-Well, that’s because you’re amazing, sir!”

“There’s nothing amazing about me. If we speak in terms of mana, I’m below average. I have far less mana than you do, Tina. I can’t even cast advanced spells.”

I could construct the formula for an advanced spell, but I didn’t have enough mana to activate it. How many times has the albatross put me through hell because of that, even though I’m almost a match for her in terms of control...? I think the only reason I technically managed to become the first commoner to ever graduate the Royal Academy second in my class was because of all the crazy things she did.

“For now, completely disregard the idea that people have ‘affinities’ for elements. Let us clear our minds and instead think of elements as...” I paused for a moment as I searched for the right words. “I know—think of elements as terms used to make things easier to explain. The aim is to hypothesize, experiment, and then hypothesize and experiment again. Remember the research on plants that you’ve put so much work into? Magic is just like that. If you discover that ice is your element after all, then all well and good. If you find out that your element is fire, then that’s all well and good too.”

“B-But that’s...”

I could understand why my explanation came as such a shock—it was common knowledge that everyone had an elemental affinity, and it surely wasn’t easy to abandon that preconception on command. When someone used magic for the first time, it was only natural for them to assume it was based on magic that someone from their family had manifested in the past.

Of course, she’ll probably have an even harder time accepting what I’m about to tell her.

“When I was little, I naively wondered, ‘Why is it that people can use magic?’”

“Th-That’s because people have mana, which we’ve been striving to master since ancient times.”

“Are you sure?”

“I-It’s the truth!” Her Highness snapped back, now getting irritated.

She’s like my little sister used to be not long ago. My little sister who’s been awfully hard on me lately...

“This is what I think—magic is just something that people borrow at the cost of mana.”

As a child, I was read fairy tales about great people. What had stuck with me most was how easily the people in them were able to wield the incredible magic known as the “great spells.”

The Hero’s Thunderbolt slew even dragons in one blow.

The Sage’s Falling Star destroyed entire countries in a single night.

The Saint’s Resurrection brought the dead back to life.

The Knight’s Radiant Shield repelled all magic.

I had longed to someday cast great spells such as those, but when I learned to read and excitedly made my way through a spell book, that longing turned to disappointment. In those pages I discovered that, although the study of magic was steadily progressing and the magic-using population was growing by the year, there was no longer anyone capable of casting those great spells. The very existence of some, like the great fire spell Blazing Qilin or the great ice spell Frigid Crane, were already becoming lost to the mists of time. And as far as I had been able to ascertain, while we referred to them all as “great spells” now, there had in ancient times been multiple, more specific groups.

Take Thunderbolt and Blazing Qilin, for instance—these two great spells had apparently belonged to completely separate categories of magic, and not just because they were different elements. The former was purely an offensive spell, while the latter was, as strange as it may sound... Well, most descriptions suggest it was, um, an animal, I suppose. It apparently manifested for a long time after casting.

There had been a limit to what I could find out on my own, so over the past four years, I had asked numerous teachers about great magic. Only a small minority had responded at all, and none of them had known the actual spell formulae. To make matters worse, even the supreme spells designated for each element—recognized as a step below the great spells—had fewer users by the year. At least, that was what I had heard. I hadn’t noticed it myself, since I had been spending time with a terror who fired off supreme spells as naturally as she breathed.

But wait, is that not strange?

The advent of printing and orb technology had made it easier to record things than ever before, so why were spells that had once been in use continuing to be lost? The secrets passed down in the great houses might have been playing a role—their obsession with oral tradition meant that some spells could disappear with nobody being any the wiser. Still, I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was wrong.

It was true that armed conflicts were now much less frequent—the kingdom hadn’t seen a major war in over two hundred years—but monsters were still active in a lot of places. Dragons and demons were alive and well too, and there was nothing to suggest they were getting any weaker. A look at various countries’ military budgets made this more than clear—far from being cut, they were steadily growing in step with economic development, meaning there was still no shortage of opportunities to hone one’s magic in combat.

And yet, the spells that humans could cast were slowly getting weaker.

Her Highness spoke up in protest. “B-But you have to consider the fact that the range of magic users is expanding.”

“True, but the power and scale of our magic are also in steady decline. At this rate, we’re also likely to see a decrease in users of advanced magic, and then... Actually, it may have already begun. Right now, we’re substituting quality with quantity.”

Her Highness fell silent.

“Even if you confine your attention to the kingdom, there are few remaining users of Gale Dragon, Blizzard Wolf, Firebird, or Lightning Lord Tiger—the supreme spells that symbolize each of the ducal houses. Their strength seems to be declining as well. Firebird may be at its strongest ever...but we should consider that an outlier.”

Her Highness took a moment to respond. “So, what you mean to say is that there are fundamental problems with the way we learn?”

I knew she was brilliant.

“Correct. Well done.”

“That the countries’ frantic pursuits to improve magic since the War of the Dark Lord two hundred years ago were...pointless?”

“I wouldn’t call them ‘pointless’—the number of potential magic users has increased dramatically. The problem is that they’re simultaneously ushering in a decline in quality. Is it not natural to conclude that there must be something more to this?”

Her Highness paused again. “My head is spinning...”

And no wonder. The albatross is about the only person who believed me when I sprung this on her. She drew her sword at me and shouted, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!” I remember her threats like they were only yesterday.

“But...” Her Highness looked me straight in the eye. “If you believe it, sir, then I’ll believe you. What should I do? It sounds like it might involve the elementals, whose existence no one has ever confirmed.”

This time, it took me a moment to respond. “I can’t begin to imagine why you would trust me, considering that we’ve only just met.”

“Huh? I mean...you really are as amazing as the professor and Lady Lydia said, and you’re han—n-never mind! Please continue!” Her Highness mumbled something to herself out of seemingly nowhere as her face turned a deep red.

Have I put my foot in something here? Also, I think I caught some unsettling words just now... N-No, it must have been my imagination. Yes, I’m sure I just imagined it.

I cleared my throat and attempted to keep up appearances. “I believe that people are able to use magic thanks to the aid of elementals invisible to the eye, and that we provide them with mana as compensation. I suspect that the royal family and the ducal houses may attract elementals of particular affinities.”

“But I thought that theory was disproved through experimentation more than a century ago. If elementals existed, it was hypothesized that fire spells would have greater force if cast at a volcano. But from what I read, the force of the spell turned out to be about the same no matter where it was cast.”

“That’s correct. I see you truly are well read. There were apparently even cases of water spells becoming more powerful at volcanoes.” I reached out my right hand to rub her head...and then stopped myself at the very last second.

That was a close one, but I’m sure I can overcome this habit with a little discipline. Hm... I wonder why Her Highness looks a little dissatisfied.

“By the way, Tina—do you believe there are fire elementals in the ocean?”

“Huh? I-I wouldn’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“W-Well, fire can’t exist underwater, so wouldn’t that also be the case for elementals...?”

“How would you prove that? You can’t even prove that elementals exist.”

“Th-That’s not fair! It’s against the rules!”

I chuckled. “Sorry. You’re such a good student that I ended up wanting to tease you a little.”

Her Highness paused for a moment, tears welling up in her eyes. “See? You are mean, sir.” She really was a good student, and I was certainly enjoying our conversation. For better or worse, the only other person I could act like this with was Lydia.

“This is my idea: if elementals do exist, maybe elements don’t mean much to them.”

“You mean they don’t have elemental affinities?”

“I wouldn’t go to that extreme, but I’ve hypothesized that their affinities only equate to slight preferences or dislikes. Or perhaps the vast majority of elementals are like that, and there are other entities that symbolize each element. Now, how are the spell formulae we currently use structured?”

“Fire spells are entirely fire. Water spells are entirely water. Wind spells are entirely wind. They’re designed to forcibly activate a single element.”

“There’s no evidence for what I just told you; trying to prove the existence of invisible elementals through experimentation is ambitious, to say the least. But if you think about it from their point of view, would you be happy to help humans who try to force you into doing the same thing they order time and time again?”

“...I suppose I wouldn’t.”

“Exactly. That’s why I’ve been improving spell formulae to increase the amount of ‘blank space.’”

I had stated this all quite frankly to the headmaster on the day of my graduation, though he hadn’t looked too pleased about it. I suspected that there was an agreement between the elves, giants, and other long-lived races that were outwardly friendly to humanity, probably dating back to after the War of the Dark Lord. I could understand their thinking that they needed to stay ahead of humans in terms of magical technology, if nothing else; they were losing almost all of their real authority to the overwhelming population disparity, so they would naturally be desperate to defend it. Of course, that was none of my business, so I intended to keep my nose out of it.

“We’ve been talking a long time,” I noted. “Let’s get to practice.”

“Sir...”

Oh, does she have another question?

“I’ve given this a lot of thought, and...I simply can’t accept it! Why will you pat Ellie’s head and not mine?! I demand an explanation at once! Also, stop addressing me so formally!”

I’m still a long way from understanding what this girl is thinking...

✽

As sudden as this might be, I would like to take a moment to explain my family. My parents weren’t nobles, but ordinary commoners. They were also quite an affectionate couple—so affectionate that even I, their own son, found it embarrassing. It was dyed-in-the-wool affection; they had been friends since they were children, and that friendship had led straight to marriage. Strangely enough, back when I told the albatross this story, she blushed and shouted, “Why haven’t you been with me since birth? Figure out a way to become my childhood friend this instant!”

She’s impossible. I’ve known her for four years now, and I still can’t believe she says things like that with a straight face. All jokes aside, though—unless I take a stricter hand in her education, I’ll pay for it later.

But enough about her. My parents ran a small magical goods shop in the eastern capital—or the “forest capital,” as it’s often called—in the heart of the kingdom’s eastern lands. Their lives were free of swordplay, offensive spells, and other trappings of violence. They both knew how to cast a few everyday spells, but they would never even dream of attempting advanced magic.

My grandmother, on the other hand, had apparently made something of a name for herself as a spellcaster. She had passed away long before I was born, but my younger sister seemed to have inherited her talent—she was currently attending the Royal Academy and would be turning fifteen this year. I may have been biased, but I thought she was brilliant. She was also a kind girl, and I would venture to say she was a beauty.

My sister’s one flaw was that she was still too dependent on me...although she was so charming that I would forgive that for the time being. Besides, life in the dormitories was teaching her to live without our parents looking after her. At the rate she was growing, she would someday be one of the foremost vanguard sorceresses in the kingdom—maybe even clan chieftain. She certainly aspired to success, and I had every faith that she would attain it. I seemed to recall that, as a child, she had been fond of saying that she would become the head of the court sorcerers and provide for me for as long as I lived.

As for me? Oh, I had none of my grandmother’s qualities.

I did well enough academically, but as you know, my mana was below average, and my practical abilities...had failed to make me a court sorcerer. My role as chaperone to that audacious genius and albatross around my neck, Lydia Leinster, had been a strong factor in my ability to advance from the Royal Academy to the university; in fact, I was honestly convinced it was ninety-five percent of the reason. After all, she had a tendency to think that if she could do something, anyone else could do it too. How many noble sons and daughters—especially sons—with bright futures supposedly ahead of them had been laid to rest after she had roped them into her antics?! It had to be less than a hundred, I supposed, although I wasn’t terribly confident about that. It was still quite a low estimate.

It would have been one thing when she had first enrolled—when she had just been a swordplay maniac. Now that her spells were also among the most powerful in the kingdom, however, there were very few people capable of enduring her unreasonable demands. So, I had been sacrificed—I mean, chosen to placate her.

Since our first meeting, there had been times when I could hardly believe she was the daughter of a duke. We now had no reservations with each other; lately, she had even taken to staying over in my lodgings without batting an eye. She would typically punch me the next morning and shout something along the lines of, “Why didn’t you try anything?!” She truly was a mystery, especially considering that I was certain she would mercilessly try to slice me up and incinerate me if ever I did try something. Not that I could, anyway... You didn’t hear this from me, but Lydia’s mother, the scariest person in the kingdom when she’s angry, had given me clear instructions on that point.

That was a long story in itself, but to return to my point—even though Lydia and Her Highness were both the daughters of dukes, they couldn’t have been more different. Having grown up a commoner, I naturally didn’t know any young noblewomen very well—that is, apart from Lydia. Strictly speaking, I did know one other who called me her “precious friend”...but she was too exceptional to count. Besides, it was doubtful whether I would ever see her again.

Based on my past experiences, Lydia must have been an extreme outlier—and thankfully so. If there were girls like her everywhere, I would flee the kingdom and seek asylum in the republic posthaste. Oh, but maybe the city of water in that mercantile nation was a better option... They certainly had more generous immigration policies.

In short, I simply could not show disrespect to a proper young lady, especially not to the daughter of a duke. Even I had enough discretion for that.

Does that answer your question, Tina?

“But sir, I hear that you rub Lady Lydia’s head all the time, and for no reason at all. I also hear that you’re thick as thieves when you’re alone together, that you can quite clearly understand each other without exchanging a word, and that your intimacy makes it awkward to be in a room with you both.”

“Y-You have it all wrong! I have no choice in those matters—she’d end up losing her temper otherwise. I do what I must to survive, and that’s all there is to it. A-Anyway, who did you even hear that story from?” I considered the possibilities for a moment before asking, “Did the professor tell you?”

Her Highness nodded her assent.

Damn that rotten old man! How dare he slander me like that. He makes it sound as though Lydia and I are the best of friends! Does he have any idea of the battles we wage in that silence? Why, there was that conversation we had just the other day...

“No. I’m not done reading it yet.”

“You know, I didn’t ask you to come over and lean on me.”

“Okay, I’m done now. Turn the page.”

“...Fine.”

I could barely hold back my tears.

Fine. If he wants a war, I’ll give him one. I’ll spend my time until our next meeting spreading every rumor about him that I can think of. Or maybe I should push him to settle down into family life. I bet foisting a wife on him would be a more effective psychological blow! Heh... I’ll make him regret making an enemy of me.

Oh! I had almost allowed my anger to get the better of me. I needed to do something about the pouting young noblewoman in front of me.

“It’s not fair,” Her Highness complained. “You promised to praise me, sir, so I insist that you rub my head too! Give me lots of head rubs! Also, I now know that you’re nicer than I imagined, so make a habit of being nicer to me too!”

“I see.” I paused to digest these demands. “Very well, but on one condition—if you do well on the magic exercise I’m about to assign you, Tina, then I’ll rub your head until you want me to stop. I’m not quite sure what you mean by being nicer to you, but...I’ll do my best.”

“You mean it?!”

“I never lie.”

“I’ve recorded that to an orb. So, what must I do? I feel as though nothing is beyond me right now! I bet I could cast Blizzard Wolf, at the very least!”

Hm... I should tread carefully; something about this young lady reminds me of Lydia. Still, I’m glad that she’s motivated. And any moment now—

“E-Excuse me.”

Yes, there she is. Perfect timing.

Miss Walker slowly entered the room carrying a tray. I had asked her to fetch some supplies to use in this exercise, although she needn’t have bothered arranging them in such a manner; a simple bag would have sufficed.

I can guess what’s coming next.

“Allen, sir, I did as you asked and— Eek!”

Miss Walker tripped on nothing at all. I caught her in my arms, at the same time suspending the objects she had been carrying in midair and making them float gently down onto the table.

“Whoa there,” I said. “That was a close one.”

One, two, three... Good. Eight candles exactly. Now we can finally start practice.

“A-Allen, sir, um, I mean...”

“Sir, Ellie doesn’t like that. Release her at once.”

The way the blushing maid was squirming in my arms reminded me of a small animal. Her Highness was watching us with a glacial smile.

I see. I gave Miss Walker a tight squeeze. Wow. She feels amazing in my arms.

“Huh?” Miss Walker spluttered incoherently. “Um, uh... Well, I mean...”

“Sir! Get away from her this instant!”

Having had my fun, I released the maid. Her eyes were downcast in embarrassment, she was clutching her skirt in both hands, and she looked just a little dissatisfied.

I knew it—she’s charming.

Her Highness was glaring daggers at me. “I knew it, sir. You are mean. And indecent,” she pronounced.

“I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now.”

Her Highness paused for a moment, then she added: “And amazing. I’ve never seen anyone cast a levitation spell so effortlessly.”

“It’s easy.”

There came another pause.

“Liar.”

Her eyes didn’t miss a thing. I knew this girl was clever.

I decided to stop joking around and arranged the candles on the table. “Today—actually, over the next three months—I’m going to have you light each of these candles with a different spell.”

“Meaning?”

“I want you to use the so-called ‘seven elements’ and ice—that is, all eight classical elements.”

“...I knew you were mean, sir.”

“Not in the least. Because...” I beamed at Her Highness as I voiced my honest opinion. “I believe that you can accomplish it without any trouble, Tina.”

Her Highness took a moment to think over my words. “If I do accomplish it, I insist that you add a hug to my reward,” she said.

“Very well. It would be my pleasure.”

Now, will she succeed in time? We’ll never know unless we try, but the odds might be against her. Then again, if she does, I won’t be able to accede to the duke’s request. In fact...

Before we began, however, there was something I needed to ask. “Just one question—the same question I asked Ellie the day before yesterday: Tina, do you really want to go to the Royal Academy?”

I know that I’m repeating myself, but Her Highness was talented—frighteningly so. Even if she were still unable to cast so much as a single spell come spring, the Royal Academy would probably make an exception to admit her. They would be crazy not to. That said, if she only wanted to attend out of a sense of duty, it was better for me to stop her here and now.

The Royal Academy wasn’t the nicest place for those without magical ability—it had been a common occurrence for people to call me a dullard or a lowly wretch, to say that I didn’t belong in the academy, or to demand that I “get away from Her Highness, Lady Leinster.” Of course, I would have traded places with my persecutors in a heartbeat, but not a single one of them would have been able to handle her. I still remembered the looks on their faces when they had heard that I was going to graduate years early and second in the class—you’d have thought they’d been told that the sky was falling. Fond memories.

Her Highness already had her agronomic research to her credit. If she was trying to get into the academy only as a matter of duty, I thought she was better off gaining more experience in the north than going all the way to the capital...but the determination in her eyes was clear.

“I want to go to the Royal Academy,” she declared, “and not out of a sense of duty.”

I lined up the eight candles a short distance apart from each other, and with that, the preparations were complete.

“Are you sure, Tina?” I asked. “This greenhouse is enough to tell me how invested you are in your work with plants.”

“I love plants and growing crops. I was overjoyed when the new varieties flourished too, but... You won’t laugh at me, will you?”

“I won’t.”

“When I was little, my mother would read me stories about heroes,” she admitted to me bashfully. “I admire the great spells they would cast, and...I’d like to master magic like that myself one day.”

I see... I gave Her Highness a pat on the head. Now, shall we begin?

“Wh-What was that for?!” she stammered. “What did you mean by that?!”

“I will now explain this exercise. Ellie, make sure you’re listening too. I’ll return your test later.”

“Y-Yessir! I’ll do my best.”

“S-Sir!” Her Highness exclaimed. “Explain! I demand an explanation!”

“Good. Give it your best shot. You really are a good girl, Ellie.”

Instinctively, my hand reached out and rubbed Miss Walker’s head. Her Highness watched in silence for a moment before asking: “Why did you immediately rub Ellie’s head for that? This is favoritism. I demand reform.”

Her Highness seemed quite displeased, while Ellie beside her, flustered as she was, started moving her head so that it was easier for me to rub. I’ll really never get bored of watching these two. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Now, here we have eight candles. Please cast a different spell on each one.”

“You’re ignoring me? Jeez... You mean the seven fundamental elements and ice, like you told us earlier, sir?”

“That’s right. Ellie, can you use fire magic?”

“I-I can!”

“Don’t be so tense. Try to relax.”

“U-Um... Do I just need to light one?”

“That should do to begin with.”

Ellie nervously cast a fire spell on the first candle, and a tiny flame sprang to life.

“Good. Well done. Now, would you make a drop of water on the next candle for me?”

“I-I’m sorry, sir! I only know a little fire and wind magic—nothing more...”

“In that case, try to make some wind.”

“A-All right, sir.”

Miss Walker held out her hand toward the second candle, and its wick swayed slightly. So, she could already use fire and wind... This girl was evidently quite talented as well. Access to basic magic was on the rise, and more and more people were able to cast elementary spells like Miss Walker, but the majority stopped at a single element. That was where the practice of deciding one’s strengths and weaknesses based on family history did real harm.

“Good. Thank you,” I said. “I’m impressed that you already know two types of magic, Ellie. You have a promising future ahead of you.”

“Th-Thank you very much. But, um, I’m pretty hopeless, so...”

“Not at all. With your abilities, I’m sure you’ll be ready for the entrance exams this coming spring with time to spare. You should aim to place highly.”

“H-Highly, sir?”

“Now then, Tina. You’re next.”

Her Highness shook her head. “I can’t cast any spells at all.”

“Please try. I can’t teach you otherwise. Besides, didn’t you declare just a moment ago that you feel as though you can do anything?”

There was a brief pause, and then: “Very well.” Her Highness touched one of the candles with an air of grim determination, and a moment later, I sensed the movement of mana. Her spell formula was beautifully constructed as well—true to the fundamentals, reflecting her earnest personality.

And yet...it simply did not activate.

It was mystifying. I couldn’t spot a single mistake in her spell—in fact, I might even call it a textbook example.

Her Highness let her outstretched hand drop limply to her side. She almost looked as though she might cry. After a long silence, she said, “I’m sorry. I knew I couldn’t do it.”

“It’s fine. There’s no need to apologize. I could tell that you have mana; all that remains is to pinpoint the reason it doesn’t activate.”

“...Yes, sir.”

“What’s this? Don’t you trust me, Tina?”

“What?! Well, of course I do, but...” Her downcast eyes looked up at me for a brief moment, but then they diffidently returned to the floor.

This is quite a serious case. I’m sure her past teachers said a lot of things to her that they shouldn’t have.

The fact that her spells refused to activate despite her flawless formulation and ample supply of mana might seem inexplicable to an ordinary person, but I was certain she would be able to overcome it. I just needed to discover the cause of her impairment.

“Now, allow me to give you a demonstration,” I said. “Please bear in mind that you’ll both be learning to cast this as well.”

How should I do this? I wondered. Just casting elementary spells would be a trifle dry and, above all, not very enjoyable. Ah, of course. I know just the thing to add a little flair.

I gently brought my hands together before the candles and moved just a little bit of mana. And then...

“There. Not half bad.”

Both girls looked stunned; it was a little overdramatic, if you asked me. I wouldn’t call what I had done “easy,” but it certainly wasn’t difficult once you got the knack for it. In fact, in the professor’s class... Wait, how many of us had been able to do all eight, again? It might not have been very many.

Well, these girls would also soon learn how to make a flower of a different element bloom on each of the eight candles. I could do it, and people used to call me a “dullard.”

✽

Dear Lydia,

Sorry to write to you out of the blue. I left a letter for you in the royal capital, but I doubt you’ve gotten back there yet, so I’m sending this one to you as well. They both say the same thing.

First of all, knowing your family, I’m sure you’ve already heard, but...well...I apparently failed the court sorcerer exam.

...Don’t do anything rash. The examiner gets to decide that part. Understand?

At the very least, I did the best that I can right now. And I secured a passing grade on the written test—you saw that when we compared answers.

I think I know what you’re about to say: “So why did you fail, then?! Don’t beat around the bush!”

I’m fairly confident in my interview. I didn’t say anything to upset the examiner—well, I did, but only a little bit. In other words, I think it was because of the practical—it never has been my forte, after all. I know that I got you to help me a lot with my training, but it turns out that I wasted your time. I feel just awful about that. Sorry.

I’m in the north of the kingdom now. I’m sure you’ll find out no matter what I tell you, so I’ll be honest—I’m staying with the Ducal House of Howard. The professor set me up—I mean, helped me find a job again—and I’m working as a private tutor here to earn my train fare back home.

You might be familiar with my students: Her Highness, Lady Tina Howard, the second daughter of the Ducal House of Howard; and Miss Ellie Walker, the Walkers’ granddaughter and Her Highness’s personal maid. They’re charming girls, although I can’t yet say anything about their magical aptitude—our lessons only began a few days ago.

Well, that’s all for today. I’ll write again soon.

Yours truly,

Allen

(Once a court sorcerer candidate, now a court sorcerer dropout.)

PS: I’m a bit heartbroken at the moment, so I’d appreciate it if you go a little easy on me the next time we meet. I wish you’d stop greeting me with a Firebird out of the blue—it’s terrifying.