Arc 35: The Genuine Article

The sound of Frondier smashing the wall brought all the nearby students running. They followed his gaze to Quinier, whose entire face had turned red, right up to her ears.

"It’ll only take a moment."

"Y-you, you—are you seriously insane?!"

Quinier felt a cold breeze blowing through the hole in the wall. Its touch told her that the scene before her was real.

Meanwhile, more students gathered to watch the standoff between her and Frondier. Whispers of "What? What is it? What happened?" came from every direction.

Quinier genuinely wanted to die. Oh, was that why Frondier had made a hole in the wall? So she could jump out?

"... Frondier."

Someone called his name in an icy voice. It was Jane, his teacher.

When Frondier turned, she fixed him with a look that seemed capable of piercing straight through him.

"Before you speak with Quinier, why don’t you have a little talk with me?"

"... Ah, I have something very urgent to attend to—"

Frondier tried to avoid her gaze, but Jane took hold of his shoulder and refused to let go.

"I’ll only need a moment, too."

Jane smiled. Frondier smiled as well.

In the end, he followed her. Watching him march away, Quinier finally let out a sigh.

Then Frondier craned his head back toward her once more.

"I’ll see you after school, then. I’ll come to your classroom."

"Fine, just get lost!!"

He caused a commotion in the hallway right to the very end.

* * *

Damn it. Jane had held me up longer than expected. Or was that my own fault?

She had given me one hell of a lecture. The fact that I’d meant to do a good deed had barely counted in my favor. As for the broken wall, well, my family would cover the repairs.

When I went to Quinier’s classroom after school, she was thankfully waiting for me. Her expression immediately soured when she saw me, but that hardly mattered under the circumstances.

"You waited. What a relief."

"Just get to the point. I’m busy."

"Not here. Let’s go somewhere else."

Quinier glanced at me, suspicion in her eyes.

"Is it really that important? Important enough to destroy my peaceful school life?"

"I came to protect your school life."

That wasn’t a lie. If what Gregory had said was true, the Indus student hiding in Constel would be targeting Quinier.

"... Ugh, fine."

She rose with an air of resignation.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Hmm, let’s use a training room."

"A training room? All that way? There are empty classrooms nearby."

"I recently learned that ‘Wind Whisper’ isn’t completely secure, either."

Wind Whisper was a soundproofing spell. It wasn’t some shoddy trick that merely muffled sound; it blocked it completely. But it wasn’t as foolproof as I’d thought. Malia’s Sensory Sharing ability alone proved that.

The training rooms, by contrast, were designed with every consideration for uninterrupted training. Their security was already airtight.

"Hmm. Fine. We’ll see if this really deserves all that trouble."

Though clearly annoyed, Quinier cooperated without a fuss.

... Of course, I didn’t bother mentioning that I planned to train after sending her off, so this would save me a trip.

...

Inside a private training room, Quinier and I sat facing each other at a comfortable distance. I explained the situation to her.

Of all those rumors, hers alone had a different smell to it. Gregory had linked every rumor to Frondier to draw as many students’ attention to him as possible.

But the rumor about Quinier was different: malicious gossip aimed solely at her.

... And the fact that it was true made it all the nastier.

"In other words, it was someone else?"

"Yes. Someone saw an opportunity amid all the rumors flying around."

"Hmm."

Quinier lowered her eyes slightly and rested the tip of her fan against her lips. Her gaze moved slowly from left to right, as if something were written in front of her.

Watching her, I asked, "Can you think of anyone? An enemy of yours, perhaps?"

"... My enemies alone could fill Constel’s entire sports field."

What kind of life had she been living?

Oh, come to think of it, I wasn’t much different.

"But surely there are fewer among the students? The culprit is most likely a Constel student."

"A student..."

This time, Quinier tilted her head.

"Now that you mention students, I’m not sure. I’ve always dealt with people from other families."

It was hard to imagine her making enemies among the other students. She probably wouldn’t even have the time.

Was the enemy Indus, then? Were they after her family? Was money their goal?

"... But you know, Frondier."

"Yes?"

"To be honest, I’m a little suspicious of you, too."

Quinier glanced my way. True to form, her gaze had already become a set of scales, weighing me.

"You said something to me before. ‘You don’t like seeing people die.’"

"... That was—"

"If you’re going to say, ‘Nobody likes that,’ I really will get angry. You used it to persuade me. You knew from the start."

So she wasn’t going to let it slide that easily.

Of course I knew about Quinier’s fear of corpses. I even knew when it had started and what had caused it.

But as always, ‘I played the game’ wasn’t an explanation I could give. And if I carelessly lied to her, she was well placed to uncover it someday, being both a merchant and a source of information.

Which was why...

"It’s a secret."

Unless I lied, that was all I could say.

"... What?"

Quinier frowned.

"I can’t tell you."

TAP

Quinier rested her fan against my chest. It looked like an insignificant gesture, but that fan contained blades that could be launched at high speed.

"I just told you I suspect you. Are you prepared for the consequences of saying that?"

Quinier had used all sorts of methods to extract surrenders and confessions from countless people. Those methods included death threats like this one. In that respect, she resembled Empress Philly.

The difference was that I genuinely worried I might die in front of Philly. With Quinier, I didn’t.

If Philly was gray, Quinier was white covered in black cellophane. She merely wrapped her heart—so kind it could bring tears to your eyes—in a shell of evil.

So, for someone like me, who knew what an extraordinarily good person she was...

"Even so, I can’t tell you."

Threats like this were bound to lose much of their effect.

"... Fine. Then answer just three questions."

Quinier held up three fingers.

"One. How long have you known about my ‘weakness’?"

"For a very long time."

Long before I’d entered this world.

"Two. Did you hear about that weakness from an ‘informant’ or someone like that?"

"No."

I’d seen it myself.

"Three. Have you ever shared my weakness with anyone else? Or did anyone learn about it at the same time you did?"

"No."

Even if someone else knew, that was a matter for my previous world.

"..."

Quinier quietly studied my eyes. Since I’d told nothing but the truth, I felt no unease.

"All right. Fine."

She withdrew her fan. Apparently, I’d passed the test for now.

"If it wasn’t you, then yes. I do have a rough idea who it might be."

"Really? Who?"

I leaned forward at this unexpected information. Finding the culprit quickly was all I could ask for. Getting a lead on Indus would be even better.

"Ah, but before that."

"Before that?"

Quinier held out her fan again, this time right in front of my nose.

"I need to collect what you owe me."

"... What I owe you?"

At my question, her eyes blazed as if to say, ‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.’

"Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?"

I’d read her eyes accurately.

"Ah, what was it?"

"When the controlled students were swarming toward the auditorium! Don’t you remember how I put on a mask and lured them away?!"

Oh.

I really did owe her for that. Plenty of people had helped hold off the students, but Quinier’s contribution had been unmistakable and immense.

Above all...

"You know about my weakness! You of all people shouldn’t be acting like this!"

She was right. And so I bowed my head.

"I’m sorry. You did me an enormous favor. Of course I should repay you."

"... Hmph. Good. If you understand, get up. Let’s go."

"... Where?"

"Where else? My house. There’s work to do."

With that, Quinier dusted herself off and stood. I looked up at her.

"Well, of course I owe you, and I’ll do whatever you need, but could it wait until later?"

Finding the culprit who had slipped that rumor in was more important to me. Surely it was more important to Quinier, too?

"No. The goods arrived today. I took this job assuming I’d be leaving it to you in the first place."

What the hell?

Didn’t that mean she’d planned to put me to work from the start?

"Besides, if I’m right, catching the culprit can wait."

"What?"

"Anyway. You haven’t forgotten what happened at the museum, have you?"

"... Oh."

Was she talking about that fake painting? Then the goods she’d brought in this time couldn’t be...

"Let’s put that ability of yours to use."

Quinier grinned at me. It had been a while since I’d seen her looking so much like the ‘Little Devil.’

* * *

An unexpected welcome awaited me at Quinier’s mansion.

"Welcome to the Biet Family estate."

"Ah, yes. You’re very kind to welcome me so warmly."

I bowed to the man who appeared to be a butler. He smiled.

"I hear you are an exceptionally skilled appraiser, despite your youth."

"... Ah."

I was about to say something, but Quinier spoke up confidently beside me first.

"That’s right. An appraiser who can tell at a glance whether any item is genuine."

... I see. Quinier had introduced me as an appraiser. That explained the warm welcome.

"Then please come inside. The head of the family has ordered a great many items."

"Duchamp, was there a little sting in that remark?"

"Perish the thought."

Apparently, the butler’s name was Duchamp.

Quinier and Duchamp guided me along, exchanging light conversation. When we arrived, I found an enormous assortment of ornaments piled up, just as promised.

"Please take that seat, sir. Our servants will place the items on the shelf in front of you. You may then proceed with the appraisal."

The butler led me to a chair at the back. It had an antique elegance to it, and, just as he’d said, a clean shelf stood in front of it.

Anything placed on the shelf would be at eye level for the person sitting in the chair. A thoughtful touch.

"You must be tired from the journey. Would you care to rest a little? Refreshments, tea, and coffee are available whenever you wish."

"No, let’s begin right away."

Wanting to finish quickly, I sat in the chair he’d indicated. The butler nodded and called a servant.

"Here is the first item."

The servant carefully lifted an object and placed it on the shelf. It was a necklace. The gemstones set into it suggested a considerable price.

"The ruby in the center was flawlessly worked by the jeweler Brian—"

"It’s genuine."

I cut off the butler’s explanation. As I’d said, I wanted to get this over with quickly.

"... Genuine? But you’ve only just begun looking at it."

"Yes. That’s right."

The butler, Duchamp, stared at me for a moment. His expression grew somewhat stern, and he approached Quinier to whisper something to her.

At his words, she narrowed one eye. She said something in protest, but when Duchamp whispered again with an even more serious look, she tipped her head back wearily.

‘... Ah, I should’ve at least put on an act.’

It looked like finishing quickly was out of the question.