Chapter 30: Sapphias is Summoned

“Damn it! Who do they think they are, talking to me like that? Damn it, damn it, damn it!” screamed Sapphias in a fit of rage after returning to his room, punctuating his curses by punching the pillow on his bed. His furious barrage echoed in the form of a series of dull foomphs. After a time, the futility of this exercise overcame his anger, and he deflated with a long sigh.

“I... need to get into the student council. I can’t afford to screw this up...” he said through gritted teeth.

His expression was marked with the tense grimace of someone who was running out of options. He glanced at the desk beside him, on which lay a letter of a few lines which read...

My Dear Honey,

Are you keeping well?

I’m still in good health as usual. I don’t get to see you though, and that is a frequent source of sadness for me.

It was the beginnings of a love letter — and a very mushy one at that! Sapphias, you see, had a fiancee who’d been betrothed to him since they were children. Arranged marriages were not uncommon in the politically cutthroat landscape of nobility. They were an important method through which families would deepen ties with each other and acquire power. Pedigree, wealth, military strength... Such factors and more were all part of the complex calculus of competing self-interests that formed that basis of noble marriages, many of which involved unwilling participants. In Sapphias’s case... against all odds, he and his wife-to-be actually shared mutual affection for each other. They shared so much affection, in fact, that it spilled over into everything they did together. They’d flirt in their letters. They’d flirt on their dates. They’d flirt when visiting each other at home. They flirted so much that it started wearing on their families who, in an attempt to stay sane, actively avoided being in the same room as them.

The girl was the daughter of a Marquis. Though not quite as esteemed as the Four Dukes, her family’s pedigree was more than adequate for her to be a suitable bride. She was a fair young maiden who thought of Sapphias as a respectable and upstanding young man. The validity of her opinion was perhaps somewhat suspect, but their mutual malfunctions nevertheless gave birth to what was doubtlessly an ideal couple among high-ranking nobility. They also happened to bear more than just a passing resemblance to Mia in how their brains tended to get stuck in romance mode, but they’d never admit it.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with any of that. The problem was that Sapphias had written a letter to his sweetheart boasting about how he’d be in the student council.

“Am I supposed to tell her that I spoke too soon and didn’t make it in? Never! The shame! The shame alone would be too much!”

He held his head and wailed in dismay. It was a wail that came from deep within the heart of a man troubled by love.

At this point, it would probably be prudent to mention that he was not alone in his room. His roommate, a young man named Dario, was also present. Dario happened to be his fiancee’s younger brother who, through her connections, managed to enroll in Saint-Noel as Sapphias’s attendant. Having access to the best education on the continent should have been an unqualified blessing, and indeed, he was extremely glad to be a student here, but it did come with a catch — every so often, he’d have to watch his future brother-in-law wailing in dismay because he was having trouble writing love letters to his sister. Top school on the continent or not, that was still a special kind of hell.

“Hey, Dario, what should I do? Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

“Uhh... Sure, why not? I mean, she tends to be pretty ‘eh, whatever’ about things...” he answered somewhat wearily.

And going home provided no escape, as he’d be subject to the inverse with his sister going on and on about her romantic moments with Sapphias. It did, he thought, at least suggest that a minor failure like not getting into the student council wasn’t going to affect their relationship.

“But... No, I can’t. I have an image to maintain. Gah! If only Her Highness did as I said so she’d owe me a favor! Damn it...”

Awkward though the moment might be for Dario, it did not last long. Just then, someone knocked politely on the door.

“Hm, I’ll get that. Excuse me for a moment, Lord Sapphias.”

“Come on, you can drop the Lord already. We’re going to be brothers soon. Feel free to call me something more casual, like Saph.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Lord Sapphias.”

He walked to the door with a speed that betrayed his desire to remove himself from the current situation, only to frown quizzically at the sight of an unfamiliar man when he opened it.

“Pardon the intrusion, Lord Sapphias Etoile Bluemoon. Miss Rafina wishes to speak to you.”

“...Eh?”

Sapphias turned to the man with an equally quizzical expression. He was a messenger sent by the academy’s central authority figure, Rafina Orca Belluga. Unbeknownst to Sapphias, however, he might as well have been a messenger from Hell.

“M-Miss Rafina... Uh, I believe you wished to see me?”

Sapphias, after being led to the office of the student council he’d wanted so badly to be a part of, stepped through the door and was bathed in... not a wave of the satisfaction of finally setting foot in its hallowed chamber, but the unnerving gaze of Rafina, who sat with her back against her chair. She smiled sweetly at him, teacup and saucer held gracefully in her hands, and took a sip before setting them down on the empty table beside her.

Normally, it would be considered unacceptably rude to summon someone and, when they arrive, greet them by enjoying a cup of tea all by yourself. The only legitimate scenario for such a gesture would be when the summoned party was at considerable fault... and Sapphias had a very good idea what said fault might be. His head told him there was no way she could have found out, but his gut was pretty sure he was in trouble.

Rafina, meanwhile, kept her eyes on her cup as she quietly swirled around its umber contents, either unaware of or indifferent to his apprehension.

“U-Um... Miss Rafina?”

“Hm? Oh, my apologies,” she said with a curt giggle. “I was thinking about something.”

“Huh? Uh, what might that be?”

“Oh, just... What a friend of mine would do in a situation like this.”

“Huh... I’m not sure I—”

That was when Sapphias realized they weren’t alone. Behind Rafina stood a girl he recognized. Her face was deathly pale, and for good reason; she was the one he’d bribed to spread malicious rumors about Rafina.

“There seems to be a lot going on behind the scenes, doesn’t there? I have to say though, you must learn to cover your tracks better, or these actions of yours will surely lead to your ruin,” Rafina said in her silvery voice.

Only then did she look up from her teacup and look him in the eyes. He shuddered at her gaze, pristine and piercing like dewdrops reflecting the morning sun.

“You’re not fooling anyone.”

Again, Mia’s words echoed in his mind.

N-No way! Can she really know?

Shock stiffened his body as dread slowly crawled up his spine. Rafina regarded this reaction thoughtfully before continuing in a tone too gentle to be entirely genuine.

“You’ve presented me with a dilemma... You see, I believe that those who do wrong should be punished. Of course, it is but human to err, and in most cases, mercy may very well be called for. But you, Sapphias... You are the eldest son of a Duke,” she said, fixing him with an icicle of a look. It was pure, and gleaming, and freezing cold. “We were born to different soil but similar stations. You are, I assume, well aware of the necessity of assuming responsibility for your actions in a manner befitting your rank?”

Sweat, profuse and cold, rolled down his back. The girl he’d dismissed as a mere daughter of a tiny nation’s duke was, he now realized, an executor of justice acting in the name of God. Right now, her sword of judgment was hovering above his neck, and her eyes blazed with the conviction necessary to dispense righteous retribution upon those who sinned. Before she struck him down, though, the edge in her voice softened.

“But I know Mia would forgive you. She’d say that this is a school. That it is a place of teaching, and to expel students after only a single mistake would be cruel. And she would show you mercy.”

Punishment served two functions. It sought to placate the victim’s grievances by forcing the aggressor to suffer in return, and it served as discipline for those who did wrong. To discipline was, in essence, to educate.

“In this case, I suppose I would be the victim, wouldn’t I?” she wondered aloud as she pressed a musing hand to her cheek. “But it would appear as though true victimhood has escaped me... Like that time with Tiona, there is no need to placate any grievance of mine. That leaves us with ensuring that those who did wrong repent for their actions.”

Sapphias watched with bewilderment as she spoke of an incident entirely unfamiliar to him. Then she chuckled.

“Say, Sapphias, would you happen to know if Mia said anything?”

“She said... she’ll fight you fair and square,” he answered, repeating what Tiona had said.

The attendant’s word was the master’s command. Such was the nature of noble society. To Sapphias, a lowly noble like Tiona was no different from an attendant. Therefore, he relayed her words to Rafina as Mia’s own without a second thought.

“Ah... I see. She would say that, wouldn’t she? That’s just the kind of person she is, that dear friend of mine...” said Rafina, her voice trailing off into thought.

Then, sorrow clouded her brow, and she sighed.

“So why wouldn’t she allow me to invite her into the council then?”