Part 2: Faltering Footsteps

It had been two years since Arcus developed the aethometer. Despite that, he still had yet to make his invention public.

There was so much to do. It had to go through rigorous testing, and there was no end in sight to the search for a discreet space to begin manufacturing. Godwald and Sue were still the last people Arcus told about its existence.

The production process itself was probably the biggest obstacle. The tempered aether required for each device posed a frightful drain on Arcus’s time and energy; he hadn’t decided whether he was going to announce that discovery yet either. The road ahead would be long and arduous.

Since there was still so much Arcus didn’t know about tempered aether, he was leaning toward keeping it to himself, as was his legal right. Of course, this meant he would be the only one capable of creating aethometers, but he considered that a plus. The fewer that were produced, the easier it would be to manage their production.

Arcus was now ten years old. While he had grown over the past two years, he was still shorter than other children his age and a little on the lanky side. However, in this world, height and bulk didn’t directly correspond to one’s physical capabilities, and the fact remained that Arcus was much fitter than most other ten-year-olds. This was all thanks to his daily training. At this rate, he would end up being just as strong as Craib, though probably without all the thick muscle to go with it.

Even after two years, his relationship with Lecia was good. They met less often than before because of her intense noble education, but they played together whenever they both had the time.

Due to that very education, Lecia’s intelligence had flourished, and her speech was eloquent and fluent. Arcus couldn’t remember seeing any children, boy or girl, at this level of maturity in the man’s world, and it was likely due to the environment they grew up in. Noble children were expected to become mature adults as soon as possible, and their quick growth reflected this.

Arcus’s relationship with Sue, too, was as strong as ever. They met up several times a week to study magic or hang out around the city. Access to the aethometer expedited their studies, and they had greatly deepened their grasp of the Elder Tongue. Thankfully, Sue wasn’t being as touchy-feely with Arcus anymore. She had also become just a little more formal, which was also probably due to her growing up. Her obsession with his cheeks, however, remained unchanged.

There was something else that had changed too, and that was Arcus’s manner of speech. He was beginning to ease out of the rigid, formal diction Joshua and Celine had drilled into him. Noah had this to say on the change:

“I must say, I’m not quite used to you speaking so casually just yet...”

In fact, his servant commented on his speech rather a lot. Personally, Arcus thought it quite rude.

“Your looks are just a little too... soft to be speaking in such an unrefined manner,” was surely what Noah meant by his words.

While Arcus was still self-conscious of his face, he had long since moved past the hope that he could do anything about it. All he could do was leave it to the passage of time to sort him out.

Today, Arcus was being made to run laps around Craib’s garden.

“C’mon, Arcus! I know you can do better than that! Pick up the pace!”

“R-Right!”

“You gotta make sure your physical strength can keep up with your magical strength!”

The coach yelling at him, of course, was none other than his uncle Craib. He had volunteered himself to watch over his nephew’s exercise, and part of that was supplying plenty of “encouragement.”

While it may seem strange for a magician to have need of raw physical grit, the reason was quite simple. Arcus possessed just a little more aether than the average magic user. As Craib pointed out, however, this meant that there were still plenty of magicians out there who surpassed his capacity. Though they never directly compared, Arcus reckoned he had about a fourth of Lecia’s aether and a fifth of Craib’s. He didn’t even want to think about how he would compare to Sue, who he couldn’t be sure was even human. These were just a handful of people among the many magicians in the world, but there were doubtless many more of them whose aether excelled against Arcus’s.

To close the gap between those superior magicians and himself, he needed an edge to bring to bear; hence, strength training. At ten years old, his body was finally able to handle it.

Or so he thought, but that was before he reckoned with his uncle’s intense “observation.” Arcus wasn’t sure whether it was the military influence or not, but the moment he showed any sort of weakness, Craib would just add more exercises to his training regime. There was a reason his uncle was so well-built. In fact, Arcus had been exercising his body more than his magic lately.

Continuing to run despite his lack of breath, Arcus found himself starting to get nauseous. He heard that children in this world were much more resilient than in the man’s world. This level of exercise shouldn’t do him any long-term harm. Despite that, and thanks to the influences of his dream, he couldn’t help but feel that he should have been filing an abuse claim to someone about this.

Finally reaching his breaking point, Arcus came to a stop, resting his hands on his knees. This did not go unnoticed by Craib.

“I told ya not to stop! That’s it! Another lap, even if it kills you... In fact, run as though you’re tryin’ to die!”

“R-Right.” Still gasping for breath, Arcus set off once more on unsteady feet.

He saw demons in the man’s world who were less terrifying than his uncle right now. In fact, Joshua was less terrifying than this man, although at least Craib didn’t lay a finger on Arcus.

Eventually, Craib’s intense regime for that day came to an end. Arcus could barely remain on his feet.

“Good job! That’ll do for today.”

“Th-Thanks...” Arcus gasped.

“Arcus.” Craib’s voice softened. “If this is all it takes to wear you out, you’ll never be able to hack becoming a state magician. You gotta keep going and building your strength like this, okay?”

“Okay...”

Arcus already knew how high the standards to become a state magician were, but this was ridiculous... He would at least like his uncle to remember that he was only ten years old. He knew him well enough to know that was a pipe dream, though.

This wasn’t the full extent of it. Craib decided that Arcus also needed a basic knowledge of physical combat skills, and so he was helping him train in swordplay, archery, and horseback riding.

To be honest, Arcus underestimated just how difficult things would be. He didn’t think his uncle would put him through so much. He expected the training to last just three or four hours a day, but the time it actually took would constitute a human rights violation in the man’s world.

Noah mentioned that this sort of intense training was rare, even for noble families, but that was putting it mildly. Even princes and princesses would quake at the sort of things Arcus went through. Arcus was starting to wonder whether he would even grow old enough to get the revenge he sought on those who birthed him.

He also trained daily by himself, so on those days that Craib put him through his paces, the entire day would be spent on his physical strength. Though it was tough, he didn’t want to give up his daily training; there were specific things he wanted to work on, and he was reluctant to carry out that training in front of Craib or Noah, and so it ended up as a separate exercise.

That private training consisted of techniques he learned from the man’s world, but neither Craib nor Noah really approved of them, since they differed from the nation’s style of rapier fencing.

I don’t think there’s any harm in it personally...

He already knew how to avoid those techniques conflicting with the national style of fencing, thanks to what he saw in his dream. Besides, all he was really practicing was how to move with a wider stance, which shouldn’t affect things too much. It was a technique where he kept his upper body still, using the soles of his feet to move.

With one foot in front and one behind him, he would jump off his back foot to close the space between him and his opponent. After that, he would focus on the twisting of his waist and turn to the side, changing his position in an instant.

Again and again he repeated this move, determined to commit it to his muscle memory. As usual, he wasn’t practicing this specific move without reason.

If I combine this technique with that other one from the national style, I should be able to pull it off.

He had a certain move in mind. The most vital step to making it work was to keep his upper body as still as possible. With those two techniques combined along with the difference in human bodies between worlds, he should be able to pull off what only heroes in books managed in the man’s world—at least in theory.

He had no time to rest. If he took even a single day off, he would never manage the move. He had to learn it: the move that the man could only dream of.

Arcus continued to juggle all these separate arts, making slow but steady progress.

One day, Joshua and Celine Raytheft took their daughter Lecia to a certain noble household. It was a large, four-story mansion situated in one corner of an upper-class district in the capital, complete with a tower. The garden gave the capital’s central plaza a run for its money in terms of size.

While the Raytheft family had an honorable and established place in Lainur’s history, their financial power was nothing compared to this place.

This estate belonged to the Marquess Cau Gaston. He worked in financial affairs, combining a noble peerage with a high-ranking official role.

Lecia stared up at the huge mansion in wonder.

“Big, isn’t it?” Joshua chimed in. “It belongs to His Lordship, Cau Gaston, who is thought to be the richest noble in all the kingdom.”

Lecia gave her expected response. “Yes, Father.”

“Now make sure you keep your eyes open and pay attention.”

It was the same instruction her father gave her every time they visited a new estate. He wasn’t just talking about any magic that would be on display, but also the way that different nobles lived and conducted themselves. Lately, the number of these visits was increasing. Joshua said it was important to make yourself known and introduce yourself to others. Dinner parties for friends, courteous visits, magical salons for the upper noble ranks... By making her attend these things, Joshua was making it known that Lecia was the official Raytheft heir.

That was precisely why they came to visit the marquess today. Although he belonged to a different faction than the Raythefts, his territory lay close to theirs, and so the Raythefts wanted to keep their relationship a good one through frequent visits.

Tonight, the marquess was holding a large party. For Joshua, it was the perfect opportunity to show off the Raythefts’ heir. Lecia was dressed up in a high-quality dress reserved for just such occasions, and more care had been taken over her appearance than usual today. Her father was also fully dressed in formal attire, and her mother was attending too. He told her that this event was important enough for the entire family to show up. “Entire family” meaning, of course, everybody but her brother.

Her brother... As usual for these kinds of events, he was left at the estate. Lecia’s parents were kind only to her. Ever since his disinheritance, they took out all their anger on him, while she was treated much more favorably than he was before. With each passing day, their treatment of him worsened as they doted on Lecia more and more.

It made Lecia feel terrible. Surely her brother longed for their parents to love him like they did before. Every time they referred to her as the heir, she was reminded of what she stole from him.

I’m sorry...

“Come on, Lecia,” Joshua called.

“Yes, Father.”

“Many of the guests tonight have deep, storied bonds with the Raythefts. Behave yourself as well as you can, and be sure to remember their faces.”

“Yes, Father.” Lecia nodded.

Joshua smiled warmly at her. She wished he were capable of smiling like that to Arcus.

“Lecia. You are our eldest child. Make sure you conduct yourself as the next head of the household should.”

“Yes, Father...”

Her mother’s words were firm but gentle and made no mention of her brother.

It wasn’t long until a butler showed them to the reception hall. The carpet was entwined with golden thread; large Sol Glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Paintings by famous artists lined the walls, and exotic foods of all kinds were piled high on the tables.

Such an extravagant display was rare, even among high-ranking nobles. Every last inch of the room sparkled so brightly that Lecia found herself squinting. The room was already filled with aristocrats in the heat of conversation.

“Joshua.”

Lecia turned to see who called her father. It was a man whose dark hair was streaked with gray. His frame was slender yet sturdy, and he walked with the gait of a man at least twenty years younger. Gaudy medals stood at attention along the chest of his mostly-white jacket. An expensive-looking rapier hung from his hip.

“My Lord,” Joshua greeted him.

It was the Count Purce Cremelia. The Cremelias were also a military family, with the Raythefts directly beneath them in the hierarchy. The count was also a general in the armed forces.

Count Cremelia was the highest-ranking noble in the east, and as such took command of all those below him when the area faced an emergency. With their territory in the east, the Raythefts also fell under his command, and Joshua was one of three viscounts who supported the count.

As Joshua bowed, Lecia and her mother curtsied. The count gave them a friendly smile.

“You are as pretty as a flower. Much more beautiful than any jewel,” he told Lecia, but she already knew it was the least he was obliged to say. His interests lay more in conflict and fighting strength, after all.

“Is His Lordship yet to arrive?” Joshua asked, referring to the marquess.

“It seems so. It appears he has something up his sleeve. My daughter and I are waiting eagerly as well.”

His daughter, Charlotte Cremelia, appeared next to him. Her hair was a golden brown, and her beautiful features seemed to have been carved by a skilled dollmaker. In her immaculate white gown, she gave off an air of nobility identical to her father’s.

Picking up her skirt, she gave a graceful curtsy. After greeting Joshua, she approached Lecia, and they exchanged pleasantries.

The two of them had met before when the Raythefts had called upon the Cremelias, or the count threw a magic salon. They often spoke at these events, too, and as Charlotte was older than Lecia, she addressed the younger girl much more casually than Lecia herself would be permitted.

Charlotte surveyed the room like she was looking for someone.

“Where is Arcus, Lecia?” she asked.

“My brother is not in attendance.”

“Oh. Might it be that the rumors are true?”

“They are.”

Rumors of Arcus’s disinheritance had spread ever since Lecia began attending these kinds of events. She hated talking about it, but such treatment of one’s children wasn’t unheard among families like theirs. If the heir wasn’t good enough, they were simply replaced, with the next in line set to take over the family and its territory. Heirs needed to be talented, after all.

Personally, however, Lecia thought her brother was talented, thank you very much. Not to mention hardworking.

“My Lord. If I may...”

“What is it, Joshua?”

“I would like to officially annul the arrangement between our son and Your Lordship’s daughter.”

“You mean their engagement?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Joshua and Purce had arranged for Arcus and Charlotte to marry the moment Arcus was born. The two of them had yet to meet, however, and now it was likely they never would. Purce’s expression hardened ever so slightly.

“Do you not think the decision to expel your son was made in haste? I understand he failed to meet your expectations, but that does not mean he lacks potential as a magician.”

“I’m afraid I must disagree, My Lord. His aether is simply not sufficient to be worthy of the Raytheft name.”

“A matter of tradition, is it?”

“Indeed. As Your Lordship knows, we are a military family, and therefore our heir must conform to a certain standard. We cannot risk him causing problems for Your Lordship, either.”

The count let out a small sigh. “This all sounds very familiar to me, you know.”

“M-My Lord...”

“Pardon my outburst. I have never known a more successful head of the Raytheft house than you. You did much to help us suppress the Hans during the Battle of Jars, too.”

“Thank you, My Lord.”

Though Joshua thanked Purce, it seemed he wasn’t finished speaking about their arrangement just yet.

“However, I do not wish to put Your Lordship and the countess in an awkward position, and so I would like to call off the engagement.”

“Hmm...”

The count looked at him thoughtfully, as though a little taken aback by Joshua’s stubbornness on the matter. If Lecia’s parents were to be believed, Arcus’s lack of aether was contagious.

However, aside from the fact that it didn’t make him talentless, one’s aether was something set in stone. Lecia wished her parents would just open their eyes to that simple truth. Her brother’s words on the matter were too rude to be repeated, and he suggested they wrap themselves in—to soften the phrasing somewhat—some sort of protective magic if they were worried about that kind of thing. Lecia noted that her brother wasn’t nearly as polite as he used to be.

“Father. Let us do as he wishes.”

“Charlotte?”

It seemed she was in favor of calling off the engagement. Lecia wasn’t surprised; she wouldn’t want her husband to be chosen for her either, even if it was standard practice for nobles. Especially if that husband was the subject of so many harmful rumors. Joshua took the chance to double down.

“It was something agreed between Your Lordship and myself,” he said. “However, if Your Lordship’s daughter is also opposed to the idea, then I would like Your Lordship to take that into consideration if at all possible.”

“I would certainly prefer my daughter to marry a man with talent. However, I have heard that your son is currently under the guidance of ‘Crucible’ Abend.”

“That was... my brother’s prerogative.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, my Lord. He simply sympathizes with my son on account of his own lack of aether. I am sure my son will gain no benefit from it.”

The count narrowed his eyes at Joshua’s unwillingness to negotiate.

Fortunately, the awkward silence in the air was not to last.

“My, my. It seems everybody has arrived!” A voice resounded out from the center of the elevated stage at one end of the reception room. Everybody cheered when they noticed the source of that voice: a certain middle-aged man.

It was none other than Marquess Gaston himself, the host of this party. Almost every inch of his formal suit was covered in golden decorations, which was only amplified by the fact that he was so tall.

He exuded pure confidence as he strode through the crowd, making sure he was in full view of every last guest as he twiddled his handlebar mustache. Greeting everyone along the way, he eventually reached the Raythefts.

“My Lord,” Purce began, “This is such a wonderful evening, and Your Lordship is so generous for extending us an invitation.”

“It’s good to see you, Count Cremelia! I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself!” Gaston responded with a grin, his fingers still on his mustache.

Now it was Joshua’s turn.

“Your Most Honorable Lordship, we are extremely delighted to have received an invitation.”

“Do not worry about it. I always like to keep good relations with the eastern houses. Please enjoy yourself tonight.”

“My Lord.” Joshua lowered his head.

Lecia suddenly realized that while her father seemed to shrink back in the presence of the marquess, the marquess was calm and collected. She blinked in curiosity as Charlotte whispered in her ear.

“There are all sorts of unsavory rumors about the marquess.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. For example, that his gains are ill-gotten, and that he does not rule his people kindly.”

It was a common tale. Thanks to the current king’s efforts, corruption amongst nobles had decreased greatly, but beyond a certain rank, there was only so much the king could do.

“Father is awfully wary of him,” Charlotte remarked.

“Yet you still came to this event?”

“Keeping up relations is important.”

It seemed the count and his daughter didn’t hold the marquess in high regard, but thanks to their status, it was difficult for them to make their views public.

“It seems you young ladies get along nicely.”

At the marquess’s greeting, Charlotte and Lecia gave a polite curtsy.

The following evening, Lecia rushed to Arcus’s room.

Usually, it was difficult for her to find an opportunity to see him, but she managed to sneak off today. Her father had been called away by Count Cremelia, likely to discuss their relationship with Marquess Gaston moving forward. Her mother was at another noble house for a tea party, and so there was nobody to tell Lecia off for going to see her brother. Lately the servants of the house had been turning a blind eye to their relationship, despite the fact that their opinion of Arcus hadn’t changed.

Lecia arrived at Arcus’s room to find him sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. It was a position she found him in often these days. Usually, he’d be so busy with studying or practicing fencing that it was rare to see him still like this, but it seemed he was starting to make it a habit. Lecia couldn’t help but wonder what he was trying to achieve by it.

Just then, Arcus, who was facing the window, looked over his shoulder at her.

“What’s up, Lecia?”

“Indeed. There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Sure, that’s fine.” Arcus blinked at her curiously but accepted her request.

Although she felt guilty about it, Lecia couldn’t help but feel that Arcus’s new casual way of speaking was an attempt to sound more masculine than he looked. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was trying to lower his voice a little, too.

He still had the delicate features and pale skin of their mother. His silver hair was as curly and fluffy as Lecia’s, and when he smiled, the word “adorable” came to mind more quickly than anything else. Maybe she just needed to get used to his new way of speaking, she thought, but she worried about how long that might take.

Before carrying on, Lecia quickly looked left and right, checking their surroundings. It didn’t look like there was anyone around, but she decided to ask just in case.

“Is Noah with you?”

“I sent him out on an errand,” Arcus replied.

Good, thought Lecia.

Arcus shuffled around until he was facing her. Lecia settled herself down in front of him and showed him what she had with her.

“When we attended Marquess Gaston’s party the other evening, a servant handed me this. Well, they were dressed like a servant, at least...”

“Dressed like a servant?” Arcus echoed in confusion.

As the party wore on, the nobles indulged more and more in expensive wine and delicacies. They got drunker and drunker, and louder and louder, and Charlotte and Lecia were tired of having to greet stranger after stranger. Wanting a break from it all, the two headed to the balcony to get some fresh air and finish up the punch they brought out with them.

Although Lecia was used to attending these gatherings by now, she hated it when the adults got too drunk. Even the most elegant and refined nobles lost control of themselves when alcohol was involved.

This party was the worst she had seen for that sort of thing, probably because the drinks the marquess served were really something else. Even out here, the two girls could hear the boisterous voices of the drunken aristocrats. Any child would have tired of the atmosphere that night.

Her parents, of course, were not in such a wild state. They understood the poor influence such an environment would have on their child, and so they allowed Lecia and her friend to clear out.

Charlotte sighed, apparently just as fed up with the ruckus as Lecia herself.

“Mother and Father are always saying how important these things are,” Lecia began doubtfully, “but it seems all so curious to me.”

That thought was on her mind from the moment they arrived. The start of the evening hadn’t been so bad, but once things got started, it seemed that nobody had any limits anymore. There was no end to the indulgence. No boundaries to the unscrupulous uproar. Was this really how nobles were supposed to behave? Just watching them filled Lecia with disgust.

“I completely agree. I cannot imagine being one of this kingdom’s subjects and realizing this is how your taxes are used by that man...”

“The marquess?” Lecia prompted.

“Indeed. The corrupt marquess...”

If this frivolous lifestyle was borne from ill-gotten gains, Lecia failed to see how it was cause for such celebration.

In exchange for their social and official status, nobles were required to keep their people happy during peacetime and to take to the battlefield during wartime.

Yet now it seemed they forgot their responsibilities and had fallen down into the pits of disgrace.

“They are nothing short of farmyard animals,” Charlotte muttered coolly.

From here, the cheers of the nobles sounded like the oinking of pigs and lowing of cows. As the well-disciplined daughter of a martial family, it was no wonder that Charlotte found it unbearable. Lecia turned to look at her.

The young girl sat in her garden chair, and Lecia had to admit that she was absolutely beautiful. Although there was an air of gloom around her, it only seemed to highlight her attractive features. Her movements had a graceful elegance to them, likely due to her upbringing, and she reminded Lecia very much of “Jacqueline by the Window Side” from the Ancient Chronicles. Her white dress suited her perfectly and gave off an ethereal impression.

Just as the two were starting to relax, Charlotte spoke up.

“Lecia,” she began, “what is Arcus like?”

“Arcus?” Lecia echoed.

“Yes. We have never met, so I find myself curious.”

Charlotte looked a little uncomfortable, and Lecia could tell she was trembling slightly from the way her golden-brown hair shook. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of the evening. Usually she was much more cheerful and gentle than this.

“My brother is an amazing person,” Lecia began. “As His Lordship mentioned, he is studying magic under our uncle, who is a state magician. Although I am also studying magic, I am nowhere near as skilled as he.”

Though Lecia and Arcus had never compared their magic, she was sure that their skills were worlds apart. She couldn’t just come out and explicitly say that her brother was a magical genius for fear of appearing biased. However, she was sure he was able to use a much greater variety of magic than her.

Charlotte’s eyes lit up with admiration for a split second before cloudiness returned to them.

“So he’s hardworking,” she finally concluded. It didn’t seem like that was enough to capture her interest.

It seemed she didn’t have any other remarks to make. Lecia wasn’t surprised. Charlotte likely met “hardworking” people on a daily basis. The Cremelia house was head of the national art of rapier fencing and so took on a great number of pupils. Charlotte would have been surrounded by these pupils practicing hard day and night in the family’s training halls.

“What kind of man would you be interested in?” Lecia asked her friend.

“One who is strong,” she replied after a thoughtful pause. “At the very least, I cannot abide a gentleman who is scrawny and pale-faced.”

“Scrawny...”

Lecia pictured Arcus. While she wouldn’t go so far as to call him “wimpy,” he was small and much more feminine-looking than other boys his age. Perhaps to some women, that would count as “scrawny.”

“How is Arcus in that regard?” Charlotte prompted.

“His physique is... similar to mine,” Lecia admitted.

“I see.”

Charlotte didn’t attempt to hide the disappointment in her sigh. Apparently she was looking for somebody sturdier. Those were the kind of men she was used to in her family, so maybe that was where her preferences came from.

Lecia had to admit that she was relieved at Charlotte’s disinterest. She didn’t want Arcus to leave the estate forever.

At that pause in their conversation, the pair spotted a servant in the hallway leading up to the balcony. He was a slender man with an unhealthy pallor to his face. There were shadows under his eyes, and he gave off a rather gloomy impression, not to mention that the way he kept checking his surroundings was pretty suspect.

Lecia frowned as he approached them.

Who is he? she wondered. He seems far too suspicious to be a servant.

As she stiffened, he gave a quick bow before getting even closer. “I beg your pardon. I am from the Royal Ministry of Justice. I apologize for the sudden intrusion, but I wonder whether I might ask you to hold on to this for a spell.”

Lecia simply stared at him as he held out a black bag toward her. Though she and Charlotte were too shocked to do anything, the man seemed to be impatient as he continued to look this way and that. Whoever he was, it was clear he did not want to be caught. It was Charlotte who broke the silence first.

“Why, how very rude of you!” she exclaimed. “Coming up here and asking such a thing of two young noble ladies without even offering your name or adequately identifying yourself.”

Her words were much more intimidating than they had any right to be at her age, which was no doubt due to the environment she grew up in. The man bowed his head even deeper.

“I understand just how unacceptable this is. However, I really must insist that you take this. Please...”

He was clearly getting desperate. Charlotte shot Lecia a questioning look as though waiting for her reaction.

The pleading tone of the man’s hushed whispers and his suspicious movements suggested he was acting out of desperation. Was he being chased?

“What is this?” she asked.

“Evidence,” he replied quietly, “evidence of Marquess Gaston’s corruption.”

“C-Corruption?!” Lecia gasped, forgetting to keep her voice down. “But why should you want to give something like that to me?”

“I was sent here to uncover the marquess’s misdeeds,” he explained. “However, I am ashamed to admit I have aroused his suspicion, and now he is keeping a careful eye on me.”

“You mean to say that you are anxious he might take this evidence back?”

“That’s right. But if you take it, even temporarily, he will no longer be able to get his hands on it.”

It made sense: entrusting the evidence to one of the guests would allow it to leave the estate safely. At the very least, it would prevent Gaston from destroying it.

“Please,” the man repeated, “do it for the kingdom.”

“I am not sure I can agree to this,” Lecia said. “Please allow me to speak with my father before making a decision.”

“I’m sorry, but I would ask that you do not speak of this to Lord Raytheft. The existence of this evidence needs to be kept a secret until the right time.” The man bowed imploringly again.

It was clear from his behavior that he believed this to be his only chance. On the one hand, argued Lecia to herself, all she would be doing is holding on to it for him. On the other, she didn’t want to cause any unnecessary strife, especially if that might end up involving her parents or brother.

And yet, this evidence was clearly important. She couldn’t just leave it be, and this man had risked his life for the kingdom to get a hold of it, too. By refusing now, she would be ensuring that his valiant efforts were all for naught. Simply by holding on to it, she could help to rid the kingdom of one of its parasites.

“Very well. I shall take it.”

“Thank you!” the man gasped with joyful relief, handing the black bag over to Lecia.

“Is there anything I ought to do with it?” Lecia asked.

“When the time is right, I shall come to retrieve it. Until then, please keep it safely at the estate. Thank you.”

The man hurried away without Lecia ever learning who he really was. For a while she stared after him blankly, before the curiosity of what was inside the bag overtook her. She still wasn’t sure he hadn’t played her for a fool, but when she looked, she found it was filled with documents. She showed Charlotte, whose expression stiffened once she realized her suspicions about Marquess Gaston were right on the money.

“Are you sure about this, Lecia?” she asked anxiously.

“Yes.”

Lecia wasn’t sure she had done the right thing necessarily, but she was certain she at least hadn’t done the wrong thing, however much it worried her to have such important documents in her possession.

“Shall I take it?” Charlotte offered, sensing her friend’s unease.

“N-No, Charlotte, it’s quite alright. I am the one he gave it to, after all. He is expecting me to have it, and it wouldn’t do to confuse him when he comes to retrieve it. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience your father, either.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes,” Lecia repeated, giving a determined nod. Unfortunately, however, the unease in her heart would only grow with time.

Arcus was silent after hearing Lecia recount the details of her encounter, but the surprise was clear on his face. She showed him the contents of the bag, since at first he seemed as skeptical as she had been.

Arcus pulled out a few of the documents to study. Even if Lecia herself didn’t understand them, perhaps her brother would. She watched as his expression darkened. Lecia decided he might even know the meaning of the item right at the bottom of the bag, which she dug out now.

“There is this, too.”

“A ledger?” Arcus’s frown deepened. “Is this for his finances, do you think? Wait, so he’s been fiddling with his accounts? Damn...”

All of a sudden, Arcus let out an uncharacteristic shriek, his eyes wide with shock. “Why the heck would someone give this to a kid?”

“Is it really that significant?” Lecia asked.

“This is some serious evidence,” Arcus confirmed. “I can’t believe he’d trust someone so young with this.”

“He did seem to be in quite the hurry. I’m sure he was desperate,” Lecia said.

Arcus grumbled under his breath as he studied the book, eventually letting out a deep sigh.

“Did you tell your dad about this?”

“Not yet. I wasn’t sure if I should,” Lecia admitted. “This might all be forged, after all.”

“True...”

She didn’t want to make such a bold move without being able to verify it.

“The man at the party asked me not to tell Father, either.”

“What did he say exactly?” Arcus asked.

“His exact words were: ‘I would ask that you do not speak of this to Lord Raytheft.’”

Arcus didn’t respond. It looked like he was deep in thought.

“What’s the matter, Brother?”

“I don’t think you can just leave this alone. But I’m also not sure about telling your parents...”

“Me neither. Since he asked me specifically not to, I’m not entirely sure it would be wise.”

Again, Arcus fell into silence. This time, he closed his eyes thoughtfully. Lecia waited patiently. It took a while for him to open them again, but once he did, those crimson eyes looked at her calmly.

“What do you wanna do, Lecia?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I wanna know that before I say anything else.”

“I believe I should hold on to it.”

“How come? You don’t have a reason to, right?”

He wasn’t wrong. Technically, she didn’t have any responsibility or obligation over these items. However...

“Brother. I have been taught that high-ranking nobles should not only be proud of their status but should act in a manner befitting it. We have a duty to protect the citizens beneath us and to keep to the laws of this kingdom as an example to them. As long as what I have been taught is right, I believe the correct course of action here is to hold on to that evidence.”

“So this is all because of your sense of justice? You know this could be dangerous, right?”

“Yes. As a noble, I could not simply turn a blind eye.”

That was what she learned from their father: to always remember her pride as an aristocrat and use it to lead her on the right path. That was why she decided to cooperate with that member of the Royal Ministry of Justice. If there was even a chance of this evidence being real, she had to take it, else she would no longer be able to call herself a noble.

Arcus sighed. “I’ll take it, okay?”

“Pardon?”

“It’s safer that way. If you kept it in your room, someone might find it.”

“Oh...”

He was right. If a servant happened to come across it while cleaning her room, they may well report it to her parents. Not to mention the risk of her parents finding it themselves. Meanwhile, barely anybody set foot in Arcus’s room, so the risk of discovery was much lower here. It was the safest place for it.

“If that guy comes for it, you just gotta let me know.”

“Very well.”

With that, Lecia excused herself from the room. Having shared her burden with someone she trusted, she felt just a little more at ease than before.

Lainur’s nobles were a privileged class of people whose positions and territory were protected, and in some cases granted, by the king. Society was obligated to recognize their “superior” lineage, as well as that of their offspring, but because of the gap between them and the average person, prejudice was largely tolerated.

Though their exact duties varied from fiefdom to fiefdom, nobles were generally obligated to take care of their own jurisdiction while helping out with the official, financial, or military affairs of the state.

Martial families were, of course, expected to carry out important military duties. Some joined the king’s guard or the armed forces at a high rank. Some who held remote land bordering neighboring countries were obligated to put their private armies to use in cases of national emergency. Craib was the former kind of noble. Count Cremelia was the latter.

As for the Raythefts, their family had been granted their own territory near the count’s after supporting his family for generations. It was for this reason that Joshua could also be placed in the latter category.

Aside from martial nobility, there were nobles who took care of official matters within the imperial court or national offices. For simplicity’s sake, they could be likened to bureaucrats. These included nobles such as Cau Gaston, who was a high-ranking bureaucrat dealing with the kingdom’s financial affairs. These positions were not attained through examination; instead, it was the high-ranking officials who appointed people. In other words, receiving a position depended on who you knew and not what you knew, which of course made these positions a breeding ground for corruption.

“What do you mean there are several documents missing?!” Cau Gaston bellowed.

Despite his advanced age and rotundity, he gave off the impression of a middle-aged man. His golden hair was the same hue as the millions of coins in his possession, and the curve of his handlebar mustache was nothing short of perfect. His eyes pointed sharply upwards at the corners, giving off a daunting air of might and cunning.

In front of him stood one of his servants, who managed his estate. Lunch had just ended, and he was here for his first report of the afternoon.

“How the hell could you let this happen?” Gaston’s voice reverberated through the room as he put his pen down forcefully on the desk.

“I’m sorry, My Lord!”

“Sorry won’t cut it!”

The servant bowed as deeply as he could in apology. He allowed himself to be battered by the marquess’s explosive outburst for a good while, waiting until he was satisfied to speak up again.

“If I may, My Lord, I have reason to believe there is more to this than meets the eye.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The place these documents were stored is in quite a mess, suggesting that somebody was searching for them.”

“Are you telling me that the documents were taken from the estate?”

“Most likely, My Lord.”

“Which documents are missing specifically?”

“My Lord...”

The documents the servant named included financial records and documents which hinted at corruption. After his explanation, Gaston stubbed his cigar calmly into the ashtray on his desk.

“If that is all, then everything should be fine.”

Despite learning about his stolen documents, Gaston didn’t even break a sweat. It was clear that he thought those documents alone wouldn’t be enough to prove anything. In other words, while they were valid as evidence, he was confident that he had the power to quickly stamp out anything that came of the theft.

There was, however, one thing he could not ignore.

“A ledger has also gone missing,” the servant informed him.

“Hmph. That’s not good.”

Gaston’s expression darkened. That ledger proved that he didn’t pass on as much of his territory’s taxes to the state as he was supposed to.

But Gaston was still calm. Even this new discovery wasn’t enough to destroy him. He would just pretend it was all a mistake, make a couple of bribes, and hand over the correct amount. At the same time, it would still be best that ledger wasn’t discovered. Even if he could brush it under the rug, the state would be keeping a close eye on him afterward.

“Do you have any idea when these things went missing?”

“It was likely at the recent party.”

“Hmm...”

Due to the nature of the guests at the party, security had been tight. However, the sheer number of them (it was a particularly large party, even by Gaston’s standards) meant there was still a fair chance of slipping by unnoticed. It was just a matter of striking at the right time.

“Do you think it might have been someone from the Surveillance Office?”

“It is very likely, My Lord. There have been recent reports of a suspicious individual within the estate.”

“Ah, so it might even be a spy. What a nuisance...”

The Surveillance Office was made up of the royal family’s lapdogs. Their job was to observe the kingdom’s various nobles and make sure that they were following the King’s laws. They sniffed out corruption, whether from inside or out.

Of course, Gaston hated them from the bottom of his heart. Though he cursed them now, his demeanor remained calm. His dealings had been dirty from the moment he took over the estate, and this wasn’t the first time he’d come under suspicion.

“Do you know where this questionable individual is at the moment?”

“We already have him detained, My Lord.”

“Detained? That doesn’t make sense.” Gaston frowned.

If they detained the perpetrator, then why were the documents still missing? Surely they could have retrieved them in that case?

“It seems he no longer has the documents in his possession.”

“Does that mean the Surveillance Office already has its hands on them?”

“It would appear not.”

“Hmm... Are you sure you detained the correct individual?”

“We hope to find out soon, as he is currently under investigation.”

There was a pause while Gaston mulled everything over. “If they went missing at the party, then I would have expected a summons to the castle by now.”

A good number of days had already passed. Even if the office dallied about accusing him, he should have heard something by now if they really were handed those documents. Therefore, the possibility that the thief hid them somewhere couldn’t be disregarded.

“How far along are you?” Gaston asked.

“We have been going at it for a while, but we are having trouble getting him to talk.”

“If you need to use violence, do so. Anything it takes to get him to sing.”

“Begging your pardon, My Lord, but I did hear something interesting in regards to the documents’ current location.”

“Go on.”

“One of the attendants on duty that evening mentioned seeing Lord Raytheft’s daughter leaving with a bag she didn’t have on arrival.”

“Raytheft’s daughter? She was likely just taking home one of the gifts I prepared for the guests.”

“Apparently it looked completely different, My Lord.”

“Different how?”

“A black bag, My Lord, which did not match the color of her dress.”

“Hmm...”

Gaston wasn’t entirely convinced. He met the Raytheft girl for the first time at the party, and she only looked to be about ten years old. He couldn’t imagine the Surveillance Office was taking on child labor.

“Suppose those documents were inside it. How did they get there?”

“One of the state’s officers might have passed them on to her, taking advantage of her innocence, My Lord.”

“Yes... that does seem to be the only reasonable explanation.” Gaston let out a frustrated sigh.

“My Lord, if I may, I can arrange for the Raythefts to be contacted and the bag retrieved. Without making the reason why known, of course.”

“No, that won’t work. I’m sure that would push Joshua to check the contents. Don’t forget, the Raythefts are one of the eastern military houses. If he finds out what is inside, it will be reported right away.”

The eastern military houses were united under Count Cremelia. They were uniformly proud and stubborn when it came to denouncing injustice. Contacting the Raythefts at this point would be one of the most dangerous things Gaston could do. He let out a deliberately loud sigh.

“What to do, what to do... I certainly don’t want this coming out to the houses in the east if I can help it.” He paused for thought. “Have the girl sent here—in secret, of course. We’ll try to persuade her to return it.”

“Persuade her, My Lord?”

“Yes. Be absolutely sure to treat her gently for now.”

Indicating that the conversation was over, Gaston returned to his work.

He completely missed the grin that appeared on the servant’s face.

Charlotte Cremelia: Daughter to one of Lainur’s military families.

She was twelve years old, with long, soft, golden-brown hair. The longer hair around her face fell to beneath her cheeks, and her amber eyes shone like gems.

She came from a highly prestigious house with a long history of developing and keeping the kingdom’s style of fencing. Her father, General Purce Cremelia, was a great aristocrat who oversaw the eastern border territory and commanded the national armed forces. Along with this large territory, they held a great estate within the royal capital.

None of the many nobles Charlotte met above or below her house had any complaints to make about her. Thanks to her noble birth, many considered her a beautiful butterfly, a flower, or even a princess: something to be protected and treasured. Her father, however, insisted that she learn how to wield the rapier, and so she spent a good part of her time practicing.

This day, she was very much engrossed in her training.

She was training in one of the Cremelias’ many training halls in the kingdom’s capital. This one was considered both the biggest and the best hall and saw use by a good number of noble children. Several windows clung to the high walls, letting plenty of sunlight splash against the spacious floor.

As the students sparred, their enthusiastic battle cries resounded in the hall.

Charlotte’s opponent was an older man and one of her father’s best pupils. His shoulders were broad and muscular, and she was overcome with the sensation that she was actually sparring with an imposing statue.

Usually her father or brother, Wayne, would practice with her, but they couldn’t always find the time when their duties got in the way. It was at times like these that she would spar with one of her father’s students, handpicked for their superior abilities.

Charlotte pointed her wooden sword at her opponent, her body turned to one side as she focused. In turn, he put his right foot forward, turned his hips so that his torso was facing the side, and held out his sword.

This was the most basic stance of the art.

She was facing a grown adult. It would be a very difficult victory for her to claim under normal circumstances, given their size difference, but Charlotte knew just how she was going to do it.

She steadied her breathing, waiting patiently for a chance to strike.

The very next moment, her opponent’s attack appeared out of nowhere. Sensing it the second before launch, Charlotte dodged, leaving his sword hanging where she was just moments before. She seized her opportunity then, striking out at the back of his neck and forcing him to concede.

This was her second victory of the five matches they had today. Though she sensed her opponent’s attacks each time, her body wasn’t always fast enough to get out of the way or to match the swiftness of his movements. In these cases, just perceiving what he was going to do wasn’t enough, leading to her defeat.

As the man commended her efforts, Charlotte heard somebody entering the hall. She didn’t have to look to feel the powerful air coming from her father.

Immediately, the tension in the hall thickened. Greeting his pupils as he passed, Purce approached his daughter.

“Father.”

“Hello, Charley. Working hard again, I see.”

“Yes. I have managed two victories against Zell here.”

Her father’s eyes widened in surprise. “You can already hold your own against him?”

“Yes, Father.” Charlotte bowed her head elegantly.

It was then that Zell piped up to sing Charlotte’s praises for Purce, calling her a natural, highly skilled, and so on. Charlotte found herself staring at the floor in embarrassment at his ceaseless string of compliments.

“It looks like you really are gifted with the rapier,” Purce commented.

“Gifted?”

“Yes. More so than Wayne or me.”

When Purce used the word “gifted,” he didn’t mean that you were vaguely good at something. He meant that you had undeniable talent: the kind that was granted by the heavens at your moment of birth. You were someone whose skills were far beyond that which the average person could even hope to achieve.

This kingdom’s royalty and its heroes who earned their fame on the battlefield—he considered those people amazingly gifted too, else they would not be in their positions. “Gifted” was also how he described Charlotte, Wayne, and himself.

Was this “gift” he spoke of the power to foresee her opponent’s moves? Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure.

“I feel their moves,” Purce told her, “in my gut. What about you?”

“I can see them,” Charlotte replied.

“Astounding,” her father breathed. “I honestly think you have it in you to become the kingdom’s top fencer.”

For some reason, she sensed that he wasn’t entirely happy about that, but his expression quickly reverted to something less complex.

“Charley. Remember this.”

“What is it, Father?”

“Even if you can see your opponent’s moves, that does not make them a certainty. Even if you can see your own defeat, that is not a reason to give in. Things can still change.”

“As long as I don’t give in, I can still win?”

“That’s right. Incidentally, Charley, what are your plans for this afternoon?”

“Lecia and I are to go for a walk around the city.”

“Ah, yes, young Lecia, the daughter of my ally. Make sure you look after her.”

“Yes, Father,” Charlotte assured him with a determined nod.

Usually, it was the lower-ranking nobles who protected those above them, but her father was emphasizing the responsibilities that the higher ranks had for those below them. He believed that those beneath you were not to be used as a shield but instead were under your guardianship. While each of them worked to protect you, you were the one who kept them safe by gathering them under your wing. The most important thing was not to take them for granted.

Lecia was not only the viscount’s daughter, but a younger friend of Charlotte’s. It was therefore her responsibility to keep the younger girl safe.

“I swear on my sword,” Charlotte proclaimed.

“Good.” Purce gave a satisfied nod.

“Father, would you train with me until it is time to leave?”

“Very well. Take up your sword.”

The two of them sparred for some time before Charlotte wiped away the sweat, caught her breath, and returned to the estate.

There, she was informed that Lecia was waiting for her in the reception room. She went to see her friend immediately, who greeted her by rising from the couch and curtsying.

Lecia was dressed as adorably as ever. Her shiny, silver hair was in its usual ponytail, and she wore her usual frilly blouse and blue ribbon, complete with a blue skirt. Along with her pink lips and round cheeks, every last inch of her was utterly charming.

Most of all, Charlotte admired her ruby-red eyes. They weren’t just beautiful; they had an honest and innocent shine to them.

Once the two of them greeted each other, they set off into the city. Thanks to the abundant guards on patrol, the main street, commercial areas, and roads lined with noble estates were perfectly safe for children to wander alone, though the same couldn’t be said for the downtown bazaar or alleyways.

As Charlotte and Lecia walked together, they caught up with what was going on in each other’s lives. They spoke of how their studies and training were going, shared gossip of other noble families, and discussed what sort of accessories were in fashion lately. After a while, the topic changed to the documents from the party.

“You gave them to Arcus for safekeeping?”

“That’s right.”

Charlotte was already well acquainted with Lecia’s brother and his less-than-stellar reputation. She understood, at least in an academic sense, why he was cut loose—the Raytheft heir would, by definition, need the aether reserves to sustain their front in the war effort. How could the commander hope to lead if he couldn’t keep up with his troops and had no more aether than the average magician?

She still felt bad for Arcus, given that he’d lost so much purely through an irreparable accident of birth. Since magical prowess was all the Raythefts cared about, it allowed them to cut him off mere years after he was born. That was also presumably why Joshua had so decisively called off her engagement with his son.

Lecia, however, spoke of her brother in a very different way.

“The bag shall be safe if it’s with him,” Lecia said.

“You have an awful lot of trust in him, don’t you?”

“I do.” Lecia broke into a smile, which wasn’t a rare sight at all when she was talking about Arcus. Charlotte guessed that he probably doted on and treated her very gently indeed.

During her life so far, Charlotte had met all sorts of young noblemen of her age. Some trained endlessly to take command of their martial houses, and some devoted their time to study so that they could inherit their lot from their fathers. Some worked hard in learning how to conduct themselves and display perfectly elegant behavior, and some, usually from particularly wealthy houses, even felt able to shirk their studies or physical disciplines.

Charlotte tried very hard to picture what Arcus might look like, using Lecia’s appearance as a template. In her mind, she saw a well-mannered young boy with Lecia’s silver hair and a thin frame. He looked withdrawn and completely unsuited for any sort of conflict. Charlotte then imagined him standing by her side as her husband. It was... a strange sight, to put it politely.

“Charlotte?”

“Yes, Lecia?”

Lecia’s small voice interrupted her trail of thought. She looked down to see her friend staring anxiously at the ground.

“Do you think... the sort of talent one can see is really that important?”

“I must say I’m not quite sure myself.” Charlotte paused, considering the question from a noble point of view. “However, as nobles, we are placed in a position above others. Power justifies that position. Without more power and talent than the average person, a noble risks illegitimacy, I daresay. And when one holds such great talent, it is invariably visible to everyone.”

“Oh...”

Her answer probably did nothing to soothe Lecia’s worries about her brother. Charlotte thought for a while, trying to put herself in Arcus’s shoes. What if she turned out to be completely useless at fencing and was shunned because of it? Charlotte was sure that her own father would never treat her that way, despite her lack of ability, but she could certainly see it happening if she were born into a different noble family. When she framed it like that, she could see the injustice in it. Her future stripped away from her at such a young age, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it...

Having walked for a while, Charlotte and Lecia left the noble estates behind them. They were now approaching the main shopping district, discussing which stores they should visit first. All of a sudden, they heard hurried footsteps pounding against the cobblestone road. The next moment, they were surrounded by a number of men. From the looks of things, their formation was planned in advance.

“Charlotte? What’s going on?” Lecia asked anxiously, as Charlotte found herself speechless.

Every escape route, both in front and behind, was blocked off by precisely ten men in total. Apart from the two girls and these men, there was no one around to help, either. Charlotte readied her hand on her rapier before calling out to them.

“Identify yourselves!”

“We don’t need to!” One of the men stepped forward.

He appeared to be the leader of the group. He was broadly built, with just a little excess fat on his stomach. Untamed stubble sprouted on his round chin, and he was slimy, even compared to the people who usually hung around this part of the city. Charlotte also noticed that he was wearing completely different armor from what was typical of the capital’s guards.

His chest armor was leather, his gauntlets iron, and there was a large broadsword on his back. Some was new, and some old, as though he cobbled the whole set together from whatever he could find. Charlotte doubted very much that he was related to a noble or merchant family.

The men with him were dressed similarly, a clear sign that they belonged to the same group.

Charlotte stepped forward, covering for Lecia behind her.

“What do you want with us?” she demanded.

“We just want you to come along. Won’t take long.”

“Do you really think we shall be accompanying you willingly?”

As the leader swaggered toward her, Charlotte drew her rapier and held its tip to his face. The man grinned at her mockingly, as though she had done no more than hold a bunch of flowers out to him.

“Fierce little one, aren’t you? I can see why people admire you, Miss Charlotte. But what does a frail princess like you think she can do against a whole group of men like us?” he guffawed.

Charlotte felt disgust coiling in her stomach as the other men joined in. The man then turned his gaze to Lecia.

“Don’t you worry, Miss Raytheft, we’ve got a magician here with us, too.” The large man jerked his chin in the direction of one of the others.

He already picked up on the fact that Lecia was preparing to use magic.

Just as the man said, there were several men who were dressed like magicians among their group. Though the girls had no way to tell whether they really could use magic, the leader didn’t seem to be lying.

Charlotte pushed the thought from her mind; there were more important things at hand.

“You know who we are?” Charlotte questioned.

“Yeah.”

“How?”

These men knew both Charlotte’s and Lecia’s identities. That alone told Charlotte that they weren’t your ordinary back-alley kidnappers. They knew they were dealing with nobility, and yet they still targeted them.

“I’d appreciate it if you could put your sword away, Madame. As long as you do what we say, we won’t harm you, all right?”

“What reason have I to trust in your words?”

“So it’s a fight you’re wanting, is it?” Bending backward ever so slightly, the large man unsheathed the broadsword from his back.

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. A sword fight was just what she was hoping for.

“Ch-Charlotte!” Lecia called out anxiously.

“Leave it to me, Lecia. As soon as I’ve dealt with this, we can make our escape.”

“But Charlotte—”

“Trust me. He is not as much of a threat as he seems to believe,” Charlotte replied confidently.

She wasn’t bluffing, either. She was almost certain she would be able to claim victory. In fact, it was more than that: she couldn’t see herself losing.

She spent countless hours in the training halls, taking on and defeating adult opponents just like this one. The evidence was clear. This was a fight she was bound to win.

After all, she was gifted. Gifted with the ability to see her opponent’s moves before they even made them.

Even then, Lecia seemed nervous.

“What? You got some kinda plan or something?” the man asked.

“Yes. A plan which involves your defeat.”

“Ooh, I’m shaking in my boots!” The man grinned scornfully.

It was clear to Charlotte that he thought she was just putting on a brave face. While it was true their difference in size was not insignificant, she had fought several opponents even taller than him before.

She could do this. She could fight, and she could win.

If she defeated the leader here, she might be able to break through the men’s defenses and run away with Lecia.

The fighters held their swords out to one another. Charlotte focused, trying to foresee her opponent’s moves.

“Oh...”

Unwittingly, she let out a soft gasp.

She saw the man’s sword striking her and sending her body flying.

“What? Now you’re scared? Or did you just realize you have no hope of winning this match?”

Charlotte grit her teeth without responding and lowered her rapier.

She saw it: her own defeat. How could she fight now?

“Put your sword away,” the man repeated.

Charlotte paused before eventually doing as she was told and resheathing her rapier.

She had no hopes of winning a head-on fight with this man. Maybe if they were both armed with rapiers and it was just training, things would be different, but it was his broadsword which gave him an advantage.

In her vision, the man had barely even reacted to the thrust of her sword. She was only a young girl, and to him her thrust was no more powerful than a wasp sting. She was foolish to think she could beat him. Beating so many adults in the training hall had given her a false sense of confidence.

At that moment, one of the men, his hood pulled low over his eyes, stepped forward. Charlotte watched him cautiously. He was dressed completely differently to the others. As he approached, the larger man opened his mouth.

“This is them, right?”

The hooded man nodded. He wasn’t talking; he likely wanted to keep his identity a secret. After a while, the larger man spoke again, this time addressing Lecia and Charlotte.

“Come with us.”

“Do you even understand the gravity of your actions? Kidnapping children of noble heritage is a serious crime!” Charlotte protested.

“You can tell it to the guy who hired us.”

The guy who hired them? Did he mean the man in the hood?

“Is that you?” Charlotte asked him.

No response.

“Answer me!” She raised her voice.

The next moment, the larger man had his broadsword at her throat. She didn’t even have time to react. Even if she had, the difference in strength would render her actions useless.

“Please keep calm, Madame. You too, Miss Raytheft.”

Charlotte swallowed.

“P-Please do not harm Charlotte!” Lecia called out.

“I won’t, as long as you behave. Just do what we say and don’t resist.”

Lecia was forced to shrink back, despite her courageous outburst. The two of them no longer had any choice but to follow after the men. They were led far away from the noble residences to an area which was totally deserted. There stood a carriage waiting for them.

Drawn by two horses, the carriage was much more splendorous than it had any right to be in a desolate area like this. The windows were adorned with heavy curtains that blocked anything that was going on inside from view.

Lecia and Charlotte were ushered into the carriage by the ringleader and the hooded man, who got on after them.

“Charlotte...” Lecia whimpered.

“We shall find our chance to escape,” Charlotte promised her.

Lecia nodded.

“And if not...”

“I know...” Lecia whispered, her voice trembling, “I know what I should do if it comes to the worst.”

She meant that she would kill herself.

They were in danger of being sold off or used as their kidnappers pleased. That was usually what happened to kidnapped children. To be treated like that, as a child of nobility, was nothing but disgraceful. Death would be a preferable fate in order to protect the honor of your house.

Charlotte was determined not to let it come to that. Especially not for Lecia. If not herself, she wanted her friend to escape, at least.

The carriage moved on, and eventually they arrived at Count Gaston’s estate.

Charlotte recognized it at once, the extravagant building still etched into her memory from the night of the party. Alighting from the carriage, they passed the gate and followed the path to the mansion, moving past lines of bronze statues by famous sculptors and toward the tiled terrace—still furnished for abundant company—where the scent of roses surrounded them.

“Does this mean that the man who hired you is—”

“Quiet. Just follow us.”

The pair were led to the guest room, where they were invited to sit down on the sofa. A servant appeared shortly to serve them tea. There were tea cakes piled high on the table in front of them, as though they were completely ordinary guests.

Charlotte was slowly starting to realize just what was going on. Judging by the nervous look on Lecia’s face, she knew too.

After a brief wait, a single man entered the room. With his silk jacket and golden hair, he exuded an air of great importance.

“Marquess Gaston...”

“I must apologize for bringing you two ladies here in the way that I did,” he began.

Despite his words, he didn’t look sorry in the least. He was completely composed, and it was clear his apology was wholly a formality.

“How do you do, My Lord,” Charlotte said. “If I might be so bold, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Firstly, I have some gifts I would like to share with you, by way of apology.”

“I intend to report this to my father,” Charlotte told him.

“Of course. Do as you wish.”

She tried to make her tone as icy as possible, but the marquess simply brushed off her words with a warm smile.

“Your Lordship seems utterly unconcerned,” she remarked.

“Of course. Something like this is unlikely to affect the good relationship I have with your father.”

“I suppose not...”

“This is how you play politics. I suggest you start taking notes.” Cutting himself a cigar, Gaston took three deep drags.

It was clear that he expected no consequences from his actions whatsoever. If he was bluffing, it was an elaborate, long shot bluff. Nobody witnessed the kidnapping itself, and now he was treating Lecia and Charlotte as guests. For him, it would be a simple matter of claiming that he was saving the girls from danger, and that they were just mistaken as to what the source of that danger was. Sending them home with gifts would be even more evidence to corroborate his version of events. Charlotte’s father might even thank him for it.

Even if the existence of the kidnappers was discovered, Gaston could claim that they were moving of their own accord. There was probably no evidence of their connection to Gaston anymore, if it even existed in the first place. The marquess was certainly powerful enough to make that happen.

“I suspect you two already have an inkling of why I’ve brought you here.” Gaston looked from Lecia to Charlotte and back again.

Lecia was perfectly composed as she responded. “Why?”

“You cannot outwit me, Miss Lecia. I already know you have them by the way you are conducting yourself now. And by ‘them,’ I presume you know what I mean.”

“The documents?”

“Well, yes. If documents were all you had, I wouldn’t need to do this. However, it is the ledger which I really need returned to me.” Gaston paused. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I do not have it with me,” said Lecia.

“Then allow me to ask you something. Have you given it to somebody else? A surveillance officer, for instance?”

Lecia didn’t respond. Instead, she returned Gaston’s stare evenly. If she came clean, she would be betraying her code of honor. Once it was clear she wasn’t going to answer, the marquess let out an exasperated sigh.

“I do not want this to be more of an issue than it needs to be. As long as you return the documents and the ledger, all shall be well.”

In other words, if she didn’t, things might end up much less than “well” for her. But still Lecia remained silent. She wasn’t about to give in without a fight. The moment she discovered the contents of that bag, her pride as a noble took over. She was raised with a strong sense of integrity, and her silence screamed that she was not going to allow it to break. It was that integrity that allowed her to keep strong under Gaston’s pressure.

“It seems you’re unwilling to deal with me. But no matter. I planned ahead for this sort of response. Come!”

That final shout was not for Lecia, but for the kidnapper who had been waiting behind the girls. At Gaston’s command, he reached forward and grabbed Charlotte’s arm, who couldn’t help but let out a shriek.

“Charlotte!”

“Careful.” The man held a dagger to her throat.

So Gaston was planning to use her as a hostage. He looked at Lecia once more.

“I shall ask you again. Where are the documents and the ledger? I’d answer if I were you, if you do not wish harm upon Lady Charlotte.”

“You do not have to tell him, Lecia. He is only bluffing! There is no way that he shall—”

“This is no bluff. That man is completely under my command.”

Charlotte felt the cool metal of the dagger against her throat now, where it had been hovering a few inches away before. It was sharper than she reckoned with; if she so much as twitched, the blade would pierce her skin.

“You shan’t get away if you lay even a finger on me!” Charlotte warned.

“I can do what I like. It isn’t as though there are any witnesses here, after all.”

Lecia turned her anxious gaze toward Charlotte. If Gaston was serious, she was sure he was willing to go so far as to kill her. For Lecia now, it was her values or the life of her friend. Lecia trembled as she struggled to disentangle her rage from her sense of justice and her anxiety from her confusion. After what seemed like an age, she looked down resignedly.

“I gave the bag with the evidence in it... to my brother,” she finally admitted.

“I see.”

The marquess wasted no time in giving his next orders—orders which were clearly targeting Arcus. The kidnapper let go of Charlotte.

“You two ladies will stay here until the bag is retrieved. Please excuse me, Miss Lecia, but I’m going to have you gagged. I’m just taking precautions, you understand.”

With that, Gaston stepped out of the room.

Arcus sat in his room meditating, a practice he took up quite a while ago. As he sat quietly with his eyes closed and his mind empty of thought, he was interrupted by a servant at the door.

For any servant apart from Noah to come and see him was rare nowadays. In Noah’s absence, any matters that concerned Arcus were passed to him on his return, which meant that this matter in particular likely could not wait.

The servant came bearing a single envelope. Arcus asked him about it, but he claimed ignorance.

“I was just told to give this to you as soon as I could,” he explained.

“Who delivered it?” Arcus pressed.

“All I can say is that they were dressed rather well.”

The servant hadn’t asked who the letter was from, and it didn’t have any kind of indication of its sender either. Surely the servant understood that it was careless not to ask, but on the other hand, he likely knew that nobody was going to punish him if he didn’t. Arcus asked once more just to be sure, but he received the exact same answer.

In any case, it was clear this was some kind of letter. But Craib was the only one who sent Arcus letters like this...

“Where’s Lecia?” Arcus asked.

“Miss Lecia is currently out.”

“Okay. Thanks. You can go now.”

The servant gave a quick bow before leaving the room. Arcus studied the back of the envelope carefully, but there really was no hint of the sender to be found.

He wondered at first whether it might be the man who passed the evidence on to Lecia, but he dismissed the thought quickly. Such a letter would be sent to her, not him. Assuming this letter was unrelated to that, though, it was strange that the deliverer made no attempt to identify themselves. Anxiety began to gnaw at the pit of his stomach.

He arrived swiftly at the worst-case scenario.

Sitting at his desk, Arcus hurriedly slit the envelope with a letter opener. Inside was a single letter confirming his worst fears.

Bring the items given to you by your sister to the specified location. Do not tell your parents, or both girls will die.

“Goddammit!” Arcus slammed his fist down on the desk.

Lecia was the only one who knew he had the evidence, yet here was this letter, addressed specifically to him. A letter threatening death. There was no way this was from the man who originally passed on the bag to her, which meant there was only one person it could be: the person who the evidence threatened.

The marquess, Cau Gaston.

Arcus looked back at the letter.

“Both girls will die”... Who’s the other girl?

Was there someone else with Lecia who was caught up in all of this?

Just then, there was a knock at the door. “May I come in, Master Arcus?” called a voice from the other side.

“Sure. Go ahead, Noah.”

The door opened to reveal Noah Ingvayne himself, bringing a citrusy scent along with him.

As usual, he was dressed immaculately in his morning coat. His short, indigo hair was well brushed, and his golden monocle was perfectly placed on his handsome face. He gave a grateful bow before opening his mouth.

“I just ran into Jerry coming from your room. Did something happen?”

“He gave me this.”

“A letter?” Noah asked.

Arcus nodded, flinging it toward him. The servant scanned it quickly before looking up again.

“What is this all about?”

“When Lecia went to the marquess’s party, she came back with something she was told was evidence of his corruption.”

Arcus pulled out the black bag he had hidden away as he continued to explain to Noah. Once he was finished, Noah’s eyebrows knitted in concern.

“Do you mean to say you were hiding something this significant from me?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I never thought the marquess would find out.”

He thought it would be fine; the servant would come to collect the evidence, and that would be that. He hadn’t reckoned with Gaston looking into it before then.

“I shall keep my thoughts on that point to myself for now.”

“Thanks.”

“However, since Miss Lecia’s involvement has been discovered, we can assume that something already happened to the servant.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Dammit...” Arcus grit his teeth in frustration.

Thanks to that servant getting Lecia involved, she was now in danger. Whether the servant had ratted her out or Gaston had just made a lucky guess, Arcus was furious.

“In any case, we know that Miss Lecia has been taken. Shall I inform your parents?”

“Not yet, no.”

“But Master Arcus, I do not believe the marquess would actually go through with his threat.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, either.”

It would be absolutely unthinkable for the marquess to kill the viscount’s daughter. If that was really Gaston’s intent, he would have needed to make sure the Raythefts couldn’t fight back first. Either that or he would have to get rid of every last shred of evidence that he was involved in her death.

“I do believe that informing somebody of this would be the most prudent course of action,” Noah advised.

“Right. Could you tell Craib for me?”

Politically speaking, Craib was higher ranked than Joshua. He would be more useful should things get ugly, and if Lecia’s parents were informed, then the entire estate would go into an uproar, which could prompt Gaston to act.

The marquess had to be desperate if he’d already resorted to kidnapping. Arcus suspected that the ledger was the most vital piece of evidence in his possession right now.

“I’m going to meet them, Noah,” Arcus added, gesturing to the letter.

“I doubt they are calling you out in good faith.”

“I know. They’ll probably grab me the moment they’ve got their hands on the evidence.”

“Yet you intend to meet them?” Noah pressed.

“Yeah, but I won’t take the evidence with me.”

Arcus had put some serious thought into his decision.

“What exactly are you planning, in that case?” Noah asked.

“I’ll let them take me, and then I’ll escape with Lecia and this other girl. They probably don’t realize that I’m a magician, too.”

His assumption was made on the basis that even in a magically advanced kingdom like Lainur, children usually didn’t study magic before the age of twelve at the very youngest. At ten years old, he was beneath consideration, although they might be a little wary, since he came from a martial family.

“How about the possibility that you won’t be able to reunite with them?”

“That’s what Plan B is for. You’ll be in charge of that, Noah. While I’m doing all that and buying time, I want you to find out where at the marquess’s estate Lecia is being kept. You can do that, right?”

“Suppose I answered ‘no.’ You would ask me to do it anyway, wouldn’t you?”

“Bingo.”

“What is... Never mind.” Noah sighed. “You can be quite troublesome sometimes, you know.”

“I know. Anyway, when you’ve found Lecia—”

“I shall ask Craib to ‘do his thing.’”

“Yup. It’s not like he can storm in there without knowing where she is, right?”

If they had no proof Lecia was in there at all, and someone as high ranking as Craib broke in, there would be trouble—to put it very gently. They needed two things. The first was information, and the second was time to gather that information.

There was only so much Arcus could do to obtain those things. Whatever happened, relying on someone with Craib’s status was going to be his best bet.

It won’t end there, though...

That stark realization suddenly came to him. No matter what, Lecia’s safety was his top priority. But just saving her wouldn’t be enough to end things once and for all. He had to come up with a way to settle everything before he acted. Should he rescue Lecia and leave it at that? Or should he expose the marquess for the corrupt official he was? Deep down, Arcus knew that even that wouldn’t be enough.

“Master Arcus?”

It was important to figure out the root of the problem. The ledger aside, it shouldn’t be a problem for a powerful man like Gaston to destroy the other evidence which pointed toward his misdealings. The official who gathered the evidence and passed it on to Lecia was likely someone from the Surveillance Office. But in that case, he should have been aware of how easily Gaston could destroy them, so why did he gather these documents in the first place?

Making them public called for careful planning if it was to have any meaningful effect on such a prominent social figure. The evidence needed to be absolutely watertight for any accusation to have a chance of sticking. Arcus was adamant that these documents were not enough for that, even combined with the ledger.

The other issue was why the official acted when he did, despite the lack of evidence. If he held out for longer, he might have gotten his hands on something more concrete, but by stealing the documents when he did, he threw that opportunity away. Perhaps he was just incompetent?

Not only that, but he identified Lecia as Joshua Raytheft’s daughter and handed the bag over to her, knowing who she was. Arcus had no idea where to start with this question, and all these unknowns and suspicious individuals were giving him the creeps. It was like they were crawling around every corner, watching and waiting.

Maybe it was just his imagination, or maybe there was something more going on that his instincts were trying to warn him about. All he knew was that he didn’t know.

“Noah. There’s something else I want you to look into, if that’s all right.”

“My, you do know how to keep a man busy, don’t you?”

“Not as much as Craib, I’m guessing.”

“No, perhaps not. Yet.” Noah sighed. This wasn’t the first time he’d voiced such a complaint.

Despite his grumblings, however, he never failed to do what Arcus asked of him.

With every part of his plan to rescue Lecia firmly in place, Arcus headed out to the location specified in the letter: a plaza within the capital.

Being quite a way away from the center of the city, this plaza in particular saw almost no traffic and was bound to be deserted. Clouds lay thick in the air today, blocking the sun enough that even the vampires in the tales from the man’s world might have ventured out during the afternoon.

An unfamiliar smell suddenly hit Arcus’s nose as he approached. It was somewhere between mold and sewage; either way, it wasn’t pleasant. This was doubtlessly one of the other reasons people avoided this place.

Still, Arcus stood there in the spotless outfit that Noah lent him. Mainly blue and white in color, he had both a shirt and a jacket. With his cute, round face, if only he wore a skirt and ribbon, you might even mistake him for his sister.

There was a shortsword on his hip suitable for a child. In one hand he held a black bag filled with the decoy evidence he prepared. Apart from those two items, he had nothing else.

Arcus waited. After a short while, he heard something stir.

“So he came...”

Someone noticed him. The small noises he heard were the faint rustling of clothes and footsteps on the cobbled path. The next moment, men approached from every corner and alleyway leading onto the plaza. It wasn’t just one or two, either; there were a total of six. Before Arcus knew it, they had already surrounded him. A particularly large man, one who Arcus could only assume was their leader, stepped forward.

“Are you Arcus Raytheft?” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” Arcus replied evenly. Though he hated showing even the slightest bit of respect to these men—likely the same who kidnapped his sister—he knew he had to play his part for now.

He had to pretend to be the perfectly-mannered, helpless noble son that he wasn’t. That was of the utmost importance right now.

He studied the group of men carefully. None of them looked like a good sort. The leader didn’t look quite so bad, but his hair was ungroomed, and decent definitely wasn’t a word which came to mind. Their clothes were grimy; everything on them that was supposed to be white was instead a dingy off-yellow.

From their choice of arms, Arcus was convinced they weren’t run-of-the-mill alley-lurking bravos. Those scoundrels were usually armed with wooden clubs or blackjacks bungled together from rocks and cloth. The more dignified ones might have a dagger or knife on them.

The men in front of Arcus, however, were decked out with leather shoulder pads, shin guards, swords, and metal maces. They were dressed like the bouncers you’d find in a pub on the city’s outskirts. Though every man was equipped differently, they moved as one.

Are they mercenaries, perhaps? Arcus wondered.

It was common to see sellswords passing through the capital. These guys certainly weren’t ordinary soldiers, but at the same time, they looked like they knew this area well. Seeing how they were comfortable working in a group, Arcus was confident in his deduction.

It was likely that they were a group loyal to the marquess, who in turn was ready to cut them off at any time.

Just then, the leader turned around, as though indicating that they were moving on.

“Follow us.”

“W-Wait!”

“Huh?”

The man turned around. Meanwhile, Arcus had unsheathed his sword and was pointing it toward him.

“Where’s my sister! Give her back!” he demanded.

The man instantly burst into laughter.

“Fancy yourself a swordsman, little man? Still, you’ve got guts, but your posture’s all wrong!”

He was right: Arcus was slouching. With his neat clothes and poor posture, he must have looked like a coddled noble boy unused to fighting. And that was exactly what he wanted.

He wasn’t intending to fight these men here right now. All he wanted was to feign some resistance and give off the impression that he didn’t stand a chance against them, should it come to it.

Arcus approached the man completely unguarded, with his sword still pointing out toward him. He was careful not to use any of the stances he learned in his fencing training. Leaving himself totally defenseless, he was quickly sent sprawling, and his sword clattered across the cobblestones.

“Oof!”

“See? A kid like you can’t do anything against us!”

“N-No!” Arcus lamented, careful to show frustration on his face. “I-If only I could use magic!”

At the word “magic,” something in the leader’s head seemed to click.

“Oh, yeah. I heard the Raythefts’ son was useless.”

Arcus groaned. It had nothing to do with his act this time, though. Just how far had the rumors about him spread, that these oddballs knew about him? Although, given how much Joshua and Celine loved to talk about themselves, it probably wasn’t a difficult rumor to overhear.

Arcus rearranged his disgruntled features into a pleading look before thrusting his hand out toward the man.

“F-Fire! U-Um... Go! Fire!”

“Ooh, call that magic?” the leader guffawed. “Think you could get me a rabbit from a hat next?”

His laughter was echoed by the men standing around him.

The next moment, Arcus was seized. He allowed himself a hidden sigh of relief that everything had gone to plan.

Humans were easy to understand if you broke it down. They tended to believe what they wanted to and favor information that confirmed their biases. Arcus showed them that he was a weak little boy with no hope of using magic, and they were now unlikely to change their view on that.

“Is this what he asked for?”

Arcus heard the men whispering behind him.

“They look like documents to me, yeah. I think that should be it.”

He looked over his shoulder to see one of the mercenaries opening up the black bag and checking the contents. It didn’t sound like he could read. The bag was full of page after page of complete drivel. Arcus made them in a hurry, worried that it would be suspicious if he took too long, but fortunately they were doing their job.

The mercenaries took Arcus to a nearby waiting carriage. After a short journey, they stopped in front of an extravagant estate, which must have belonged to the marquess. The entire building was covered in gold, and the perfectly landscaped garden was filled with large, carefully placed trees. Stone statues and golden fountains sat around the house’s perimeter.

The first word that came to mind was “gaudy.” Arcus cringed as he surveyed his surroundings out of the corner of his eye, and the men led him into the estate and to a certain room. It appeared to be a storage space—a far cry from any sort of guest room.

Lecia wasn’t there. It was annoying, to say the least, but Arcus planned for this.

“Did you get him?”

“Yes, Milord!” cried out the heavy-set leader.

The man who entered the room then was incredibly well-dressed. In fact, he was too well-dressed. He gave off an imposing air even next to the muscular mercenary; he was as ridiculously tall as Craib.

He must have been Cau Gaston himself. He was just as Noah described him.

He didn’t look like the sort of penny-pinching rat that you might expect, thinking of a white-collar crook. The way he walked, stood, and conducted himself had a certain dignity about it, and not one that could be dismissed easily.

He did look like a villain in his own way, but Arcus would be more inclined to refer to him as an “evil mastermind.” In any case, he was certain this man was not good news. The marquess approached him, and he almost found himself having to take a step back to accommodate his overwhelming presence.

Was this what the people at the very top were like? It seemed that these sorts of people (in this world at least) had so much dignity and overbearing personality that it was almost tangible, and only moreso the higher up the ranks you got.

“Are you Arcus Raytheft?” Gaston asked.

“That’s right. You must be Lord Cau Gaston.”

“Indeed I am! And I don’t suppose I have any need to hide it.”

“In that case, Your Lordship must be the one who sent that letter.”

Gaston simply nodded in response, as though he felt a full explanation would be too troublesome.

“Is my sister safe? Please, let her go!”

“Is that the ledger?” Gaston turned his gaze toward the black bag in the mercenary’s hand, who held it out to him immediately. Gaston examined the contents. “This isn’t what I asked for. I believe I asked you to bring the evidence your sister gave to you.”

Arcus didn’t respond.

“Where is it? Answer me.”

“The official already took it back.”

Gaston didn’t even flinch. Instead, a faint smile rose to his lips.

“Commendable effort, my boy. But if that were true, you would have no reason to even be here.”

He was right. If the official had the evidence, there was no need for Arcus to risk showing up just to get himself captured.

“Tell me where it is. Otherwise, you’ll only have yourself to blame for what happens to your sister.”

As Arcus was expecting, the marquess moved on to threatening Lecia. Completely standard practice for someone who had taken a hostage. Arcus saw it all the time in period dramas from the man’s world.

“I left the real evidence at home,” Arcus said.

“Is there anyone else who knows it’s there?”

“No. I hid it behind my closet,” he lied.

“Oho.”

Apparently having grown tired of the conversation the moment he had what he wanted, Gaston turned around. He began to mutter to himself, and it sounded like he was trying to work out how to retrieve the evidence. Arcus decided now was a good time to pour on more of his feeble-noble-boy act.

“Please, let my sister go! Then I promise I’ll give you the evidence!”

“No. I cannot hand her over without being sure what you have is real.”

“P-Please...”

“This is your own fault. If you had brought the evidence with you, I would gladly have returned Miss Lecia to you. You’ve already worked to fool me once! I am not going to let it happen again!”

Gaston doubled down. Words alone wouldn’t be enough to get Lecia back. By blaming Arcus for everything, he was probably hoping to weaken his resolve. Playing along, Arcus made a show of hanging his head.

“Milord, what should I do with the boy?” the mercenary asked.

“Take him away. I have no use for him now.”

“Should I take him to where the girls are?”

Arcus’s breath caught in his throat. Meeting up with them was the biggest part of Plan A. At the very least, it would allow him to ensure Lecia’s safety. After that, he could simply wait for his chance to break his cover and escape.

He already had a portfolio of spells in mind. In his dream, he learned about the refraction of light, which gave him the knowledge needed to create an invisibility spell. He also had a spell that would send his opponent straight to sleep. Though neither of their effects lasted very long, there was no doubt they would come in handy.

If things got ugly, he could always use his Black Ammo to drive enemies off or his fire magic to set the place alight.

He had a bevy of tools he could use in their escape. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t look like things were about to go his way.

“Yes, take... No, wait.”

“What’s the matter, Milord?”

Gaston didn’t reply immediately, instead stroking his chin and narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. He then slowly turned around.

“Take him to the Holy Tower, just in case. I shall sort out the paperwork.”

“Huh?!”

“What?!” Arcus gasped at the same time.

Why wasn’t Gaston keeping him here in the estate? Fortunately for Arcus, the mercenary seemed just as confused as he was.

“But why, My Lord? I understand if Your Lordship wishes to keep him apart from the girls, but in that case, I can take him to another room in the estate. But to take him to the Tower...”

“He is a Raytheft,” Gaston said, “and they are a martial family. It never hurts to be safe.”

“Is Your Lordship worried he will try and escape? I’ve seen him holding a sword, and he’s useless! He can’t use magic, either. I thought he was famous among the upper classes for his lack of skill.”

“Indeed. However, I do not wish to take the chance that it was all an act.” Gaston’s gaze slid from the confused mercenary to meet Arcus’s eyes.

He bent over, peering at him carefully. Arcus stared back at him as his face got closer. There was something in those eyes that sent a shiver down his spine. It was like the marquess could read his every thought. Anxiety gripped and curled around the boy’s every limb.

This was it. The overbearing presence peculiar to the upper noble classes. Beads of sweat started forming on Arcus’s neck as Gaston made him realize just who he was dealing with here.

“I think Your Lordship might be overthinking things. It doesn’t look to me like he’s hiding any special sword or magic skills. Plus, he’s a kid. I could just gag him and be done with it.”

“Enough. Take him to the Tower. That’s an order.”

“All right, Milord. Come on then, you.” The mercenary began to pull Arcus along, who stumbled after him.

He couldn’t believe he was being sent to the Holy Tower. From what he heard, it was a prison for magicians who committed crimes in the capital. There were anti-magic measures in place, and escape was said to be impossible, thanks to its famous impenetrable guard.

“What then, Milord? If the evidence is at the Raythefts’ place, it’ll be hard to take back.”

Gaston would need a very good excuse indeed to search another noble’s estate. It wouldn’t be an easy matter to sneak in, either. Their estate held all sorts of documents pertaining to the kingdom’s military affairs, and as such, security was tight. This mercenary could have fought a hundred battles, and Arcus would still bet he couldn’t break in.

“Yes, it is certainly a troublesome matter,” Gaston said with a sigh. “I suppose I would like you to go and see how things are first. I’m sure they are losing their heads with both children missing. Then, assuming they are not working to do anything against me...”

“What then?”

“We shall leave them be. It would mean that none of them suspects me, after all. When things have quieted down a bit, we can send someone in undercover.”

“What about the girls, Milord?”

“It is best that we get rid of them, just as planned.”

“Hey!” Arcus couldn’t let that last remark slide.

Gaston looked at him over his shoulder.

“Are you insane? I know viscounts aren’t exactly top of the pecking order, but they’re still noble kids, you know!”

“Exactly. It is not unusual for children of such status to go missing.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Gaston replied airily.

“Just because you make them ‘disappear’ doesn’t mean people won’t catch on to what you’ve done! The Raythefts are a powerful martial family! As soon as they look into this, they’ll find out what happened right away!”

“The Raythefts shall do diddly squat. Everything will go according to plan.”

“How are you so confident?”

“Listen to me, young man. This world is run entirely by money. Money can buy you loyalty and sweep almost any sin imaginable under the proverbial rug.”

“So that’s it? You think money can solve anything?” Arcus pressed.

“I do not think. I know. Society works based on who has less and who has more. And as long as you have money, you can buy as much affection and as many adoring fans as you want.”

He was insane, which was exactly why Arcus was so afraid right now. He had to do something. Anything.

“Come on now, don’t squirm,” said the mercenary.

The next thing Arcus knew, something hard collided with his head, and then everything around him went dark.

Some time had passed since Arcus was knocked out, but Lecia and Charlotte knew nothing of those events. They were still on the sofa in the guest room with their hands tied behind their back and their weapons taken by one of Gaston’s men. Nobody was there to guard them, and so they were completely alone.

How careless, thought Charlotte, most people would be much more careful, even with regular hostages.

Having tied them both and gagged Lecia, they probably thought it would be no problem leaving them unguarded. Although, with their weapons taken, there was no way for Charlotte to cut her own rope, let alone take the gag out of Lecia’s mouth.

“Lecia, are you all right?”

Lecia could only nod in response, although there was a slight glint of guilt in her eyes. Considering her serious personality, she likely blamed herself for all of this.

“This is not your fault, Lecia,” Charlotte said gently. “It is the marquess’s fault...”

Who should enter the room at that moment, but the man himself? Charlotte stiffened, wondering what he was after now. Gaston smiled slightly.

“I apologize for the wait. However, everything looks like it will settle soon.”

Meaning that he wasn’t finished with them just yet. Assuming he already met with Arcus, that could only mean one thing.

“Does Your Lordship mean to say that Arcus did not bring the evidence?” Charlotte asked.

“You are certainly sharp, My Lady. Just as you suspect, the boy did not supply what I asked of him.”

“In that case, where is he?”

“He was starting to misbehave, so I had him put to sleep. Afterward, he shall be sent to the Tower.”

“Th-The Tower?!”

Could he mean the Holy Tower? But why would he send someone like Arcus to a place full of criminals? He was only a child!

“But Your Lordship cannot possibly send a noble child to a place like that without good reason! The viscount will surely...” Charlotte trailed off.

“Oh? What would the viscount do? Personally, I believe he shan’t lift a finger. Everybody knows he has shunned his own son. In fact, he shall probably think I am doing him a service.”

“He...” Charlotte began, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

She looked at Lecia, who was staring at the floor. That alone told Charlotte that her friend agreed with what Gaston was saying. She already knew Joshua did not look kindly on his son in the least.

At that moment, the door to the guest room opened. There was the lead mercenary with his broadsword. Immediately on entering, he bowed deeply.

“Pardon the intrusion, Milord.”

“What is it?” Gaston asked.

“I’ve finished the arrangements to have the kid sent to the Tower.”

“Ah. Good.”

The mercenary then turned to the girls and walked until he was standing right in front of Lecia. He grinned down at her nastily.

“Your brother was real entertaining when I was capturing him. He tried to threaten me with his sword, even though it was clear he had no idea what he was doing. You should’ve heard him whimpering!”

The mercenary carried on, taunting Lecia by rattling off insults about her brother. About how he tried to fight with a sword he didn’t know how to use. How he gave in the moment it was clear he couldn’t win. How it was the first time the mercenary had seen such a pathetic kid.

Lecia glared up at him, her cheeks pinkening with rage as he continued to talk poorly of the brother she respected so much. It only seemed to spur him on, causing his mocking smile to twist further.

Lecia had spoken before of how hardworking Arcus was and his impressive command of magic, but listening to this man speaking now, Charlotte was convinced it was all just her bias talking. While it was brave of him to come and meet the marquess alone with fake evidence in hand, he was caught in the end anyway, making the whole thing meaningless.

“And he can’t even use magic, even though he’s from a martial family! You should’ve heard him!” The mercenary put on a squeaky voice. “Fire! Go fire!”

His crude laugh bounced off the walls.

Charlotte was confused. According to Lecia, Arcus was able to use magic. In fact, she claimed he was even able to use Flamlarune, a spell inspired by those usually reserved for the battlefield.

Somebody in the equation was lying, and Charlotte had a hard time believing it was Lecia, who was always such an honest girl. So what was going on? She didn’t have time to think any more deeply into the matter before Gaston brought his face close to Lecia’s.

“Miss Lecia. Is your brother really as talentless as everybody says?” he asked sternly.

So he was suspicious, too. With the gag in her mouth, Lecia was unable to respond. She simply met his gaze evenly.

“Your Lordship really is wary of him.”

“I am more concerned about the attitude he displayed,” Gaston said.

“His attitude?”

“Let me ask you something. When you captured the boy, he was docile and as naive as any other noble child. Correct?”

“That’s right, Milord. It was like he’d barely set foot out of his own house before.”

“However, when you brought him to me, he wasn’t the least bit afraid.”

“Huh? Why would he be scared, Milord?”

“Back then, I was doing all I could to intimidate him, and yet he was able to keep up with the conversation without even batting an eyelid.”

Charlotte knew just how intimidating Cau Gaston could be. It wasn’t just his size, but the dignity that he built around himself as one of the most powerful figures in the entire kingdom. Even a fully-armed soldier might have trouble standing up to him. While he would be no match for the head of a martial family, a child was a different matter.

Gaston brought his hand to his chin in thought.

“Remember, too, how quickly his demeanor changed when I suggested sending him somewhere else.”

“Oh... that’s right!”

“He didn’t falter at all when I told him I was not going to return his sister, but everything changed when I said I was putting him somewhere else. It is almost as if I ruined some plan of his.”

“Is that why Your Lordship said he was being sent to the Tower?”

“That wasn’t the only reason. I simply did not want him to be able to meet with the girls, should that have been his aim.”

“I don’t know, Milord, that seems a bit too paranoid to me. He’s only a kid. Of course he’d be unpredictable. He probably just didn’t react at first because he knew there was nothing he could do. I honestly don’t think he’s hiding anything at all.”

“I should hope he isn’t,” said Gaston, staring out of the window. But his gaze showed that he didn’t agree with the mercenary.

The window looked out onto the royal castle at the capital’s center. What was going through the marquess’s head as he studied it? Luckily, the mercenary was there to ask the question on Charlotte’s behalf.

“Is something the matter, Milord?” he asked, frowning in confusion.

“A question. Have you ever met a terrifying child?”

“A terrifying child?”

“I have. The crown prince,” Gaston said.

“Oh, I’ve heard about him! They say he’s a genius.”

“They do indeed.”

The Prince of Lainur. Though he was around Charlotte’s age, they said he was the greatest genius that the kingdom had ever seen.

It was common for the royal family to make a spectacle of praising the newborn heir to the throne. They said he was a “genius,” blessed by divine spirits, and more powerful than any mythical beast. Usually, such hyperbolic language would be used to send a message of the royal family’s power to both those within and without the kingdom, but since the royals themselves were already incredibly strong, it was unlikely to be an exaggeration.

The marquess turned back to address the room.

“Neither Lady Charlotte nor Miss Lecia act as typical children their age do because of their noble upbringing. Any child can be made to behave like they do if educated from a young age. But the prince is different. He is an open-minded, determined young man, and it is not something that has been forced upon him. He is dignified far beyond his years, even though he is only around ten or so. Speaking with His Royal Highness is like speaking with one my own age.”

“He’s still human though, isn’t he?”

“It is easy to say that if you have never met him. Easy to say that, no matter how powerful the royal family, they are still flesh and blood like the rest of us. That the only reason people fear them is because of their status. But they are not like us. They are not human. They are leaders—a different race entirely.” A single bead of sweat rolled down the marquess’s cheek.

“What about the King then, Milord?” the mercenary asked.

“I would advise you not to speak of His Majesty nor his son so casually,” Gaston rebuked, his expression grim with fear.

Just how powerful was the prince, to be able to have the marquess shaking in his boots like this?

“I have spent days wondering just what His Royal Highness hides beneath that exterior of his. And yet, after all that thinking, I have found no answer but gaping darkness.”

“Pardon me, Milord, but where is all this coming from?”

“Because I sensed something very similar from young Arcus Raytheft. That isn’t to say he compares to His Royal Highness, but he was similar. When I spoke with him, it was almost as though I wasn’t speaking with a child at all.”

The words escaped on a sigh from his lips. But then the marquess changed course, instead peering down at Charlotte. His face was completely expressionless now, and it sent a chill down her spine.

“Since it has come to this, I shall have the two of you die for me, and I may do it rather soon. I do hope you understand.”

It was the final threat that Charlotte was expecting all this time.