Arc 16: Attack (2)

It was a little late in the evening, and incongruously bright lights shimmered at the Richae estate. Gentle music mingled pleasantly with laughter, drifting beyond the mansion’s walls.

“... Whew.”

Elodie sighed to herself.

The Richae family often hosted social gatherings like this. Judging by their prestige, one might expect the Roach family to do the same, but their family head was far too frugal.

Elodie adjusted the frills painstakingly packed even inside her collar. She wore dresses fairly often, yet still could not get used to them.

“Have I gained weight...?”

She had meant for no one to hear, but the men approached with uncanny timing, each offering a comment.

“Impossible. You look as beautiful as ever today, Lady Elodie.”

“Of course. Even if you had gained a little weight, it would not put the slightest blemish on your beauty—”

Did he actually think that was a compliment?

Elodie pulled the corners of her mouth into a smile.

... In truth, she did not mind dealing with men like these. How must they feel, having to lavish embarrassingly effusive compliments on a girl of only seventeen? Even if they genuinely liked her, at a social gathering they had no choice but to repeat the same stale, formulaic lines.

Elodie was the finest jewel the Richae family had ever produced. If anyone tried to reach out to her in earnest, the other families would hardly stand idly by. That was why everyone around her maintained a discreet distance. Ironically, the men here also knew that expressing interest through hackneyed compliments was the best way to preserve that distance.

And so, whenever she attended these gatherings, Elodie felt desperately alone.

The women were either brimming with jealousy and envy or, conversely, so consumed by inferiority that they bowed and scraped with a deference she had never wanted. The men, wary of what others might think, neither drew closer nor pulled away.

Gossip, flattery, pretension—none of that mattered. Those were not what hurt her. She was simply confronted with the fact that not a single person spoke honestly to her.

It left her endlessly lonely, and endlessly bored.

‘... Has he stayed away again?’

Pretending to listen attentively to the men, Elodie scanned the room. She was looking for Frondier. If anyone could give her room to breathe on an occasion like this, it was him.

She did have friends of noble birth at Constel, but gaining entry to a gathering hosted by the Richae family was no easy matter. Even if they came, they would be busy mingling with the children of other families.

Frondier, however, had never shown his face at a social gathering. His characteristic laziness and lethargy were the first reason. The second was that the Roach family never interfered with his social engagements.

‘... No. I shouldn’t call it laziness. Elodie, you of all people shouldn’t think that.’

She corrected herself.

Until now, she had assumed he was merely lazy, but the recent mana exhaustion incident had suggested another possibility: rather than being lazy, Frondier might be working himself half to death behind the scenes.

... It was still only a possibility, though.

In any case, the chances of Frondier making an appearance this time were slim. His reputation at Constel had gradually begun to change lately, but that was entirely separate from high society. Besides, he and Elodie’s older brother were on terrible terms. That alone brought the likelihood of his visiting the Richae estate close to zero.

Or so it should have been.

CREAK

“... Oh.”

The sound escaped Elodie’s lips.

A man quietly opened the mansion doors and entered. It was not just Elodie whose attention he drew.

An elegant, refined black suit. Stylishly groomed black hair. Dressed up like this, his perpetually sleepy eyes took on a mysterious charm.

Frondier approached the head of the Richae family and greeted him politely.

“Oh, Frondier. I’m delighted you could come. I hope we’ll see you more often from now on.”

“Don’t we see each other quite often at my home?”

“Haha, I don’t mean just me. Surely you ought to let everyone here get to know you as well.”

The family head, Ortel de Richae, was genuinely pleased to see Frondier. Or rather, he welcomed Frondier’s political influence more than Frondier himself. The boy might be unimpressive, but behind him stood the Roach family. If Frondier forged good relations with another family here, Ortel could share in the benefits.

Indeed, some nobles were already whispering at the sight of him. Most of those present were seeing him in person for the first time. In appearance, at least, Frondier was every inch an aristocrat, and several young ladies could be seen whispering with slightly flushed faces.

“Then, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course. Have a look around.”

With another greeting as polite as his first, Frondier turned and walked straight toward Elodie.

“...!”

She startled without knowing why.

This was the same Frondier she saw all the time at Constel. His face was all the more familiar after their encounter during the Aktober incident.

Yet when he stood before her, her lips moved uncertainly for a moment. Should she treat him as a friend, or observe the formalities befitting a noble?

Just as Frondier opened his mouth to speak, the music changed. People stepped forward in pairs, clasping hands and beginning to move. It was time to dance.

Noticing this, Frondier smiled sheepishly.

“Then, shall we dance, my lady?”

He asked as though the idea had just occurred to him.

His unexpectedly gentle tone made Elodie forget what to say. She simply nodded. Taking her hand, Frondier led her into the ranks of dancers.

Frondier was neither a particularly good dancer nor a bad one. To put it kindly, his partner had no cause for worry. Less kindly, she might grow bored.

Elodie, however, had no time to be bored, for a variety of reasons. After glancing here and there, she spoke.

“This feels awkward.”

“What does?”

“You and me, here, like this, um... doing this?”

Her words had conveyed almost nothing, but Frondier nodded as though he understood.

“This collar is bothering me.”

He adjusted it with one hand as he spoke. Touching one’s own clothes while dancing was outrageously rude, but seeing him do much the same thing she had done earlier somehow made Elodie laugh.

“So? Why are you here? This isn’t like you. Have you suddenly developed an interest in high society?”

A little more relaxed now, Elodie asked.

“Of course not. I came to see you.”

Frondier answered plainly. So plainly that his words invited misunderstanding.

Elodie shot him a narrow-eyed look.

“Could you be a little more specific?”

“I came to ask for your help. You’re the only person I can trust.”

That, too, invited misunderstanding, but it was better than before. And Elodie preferred hearing this, anyway.

“What kind of help... Whoa!”

Frondier pulled her close. To onlookers, it was a perfectly natural dance step, but Elodie, caught off guard, raised her voice.

“Wh-what? Why so sudden?”

“Constel is going to be attacked.”

“...!”

Frondier whispered in her ear, telling her everything he had learned: Ales’s confession, the disciplinary hearing, and his predictions about the teachers’ countermeasures.

At first, Elodie’s expression wavered slightly, but the more she heard, the more impassive it became. She had realized that she must not let this conversation show on her face.

When she had heard him out, she asked, “So why are you telling me?”

“When the attack begins, repel the monsters as spectacularly as you can. Make sure the students and teachers realize at once that something serious is happening.”

“When it begins? Didn’t you say the teachers were working on countermeasures because they don’t know when that will be?”

“I know when.”

Frondier’s declaration was perfectly straightforward. He placed no emphasis on it. There was not even a hint of an attempt to persuade her that he was telling the truth, which made him all the more believable.

“If you know, why not tell the teachers?”

“They wouldn’t believe me. I have no evidence, and no way to prove it.”

“You have no evidence and no way to prove it, but you think I’ll believe you?”

“You don’t need to trust me.”

“... What is that supposed to mean?”

Frondier drew away again, another natural movement in the dance.

“I trust you, so it’s all right.”

“... You’ve picked up some strange line from somewhere again.”

Frondier merely smiled at her sarcasm.

“When the time comes, you’ll understand that it wasn’t a strange thing to say.”

* * *

The morning sky was gloomy. It did not look as though it would rain, but seemingly endless clouds filled the sky.

... Clouds that bring no rain are darker.

With that unexpected thought, I finished getting ready to leave.

Ordinarily, it would have been time to head to Constel. Today, however, I took a slightly different route.

And then—

“Where are you going?”

Malia caught me. She stood at the top of the hill I was climbing, as though she had been waiting for me.

“This isn’t the way to Constel. Are you planning to skip school?”

“... Then aren’t you doing the same, Mom?”

“Hehe, I suppose I am.”

Malia laughed, her smile unclouded.

“How did you know I’d come this way?”

“Mothers know everything.”

“Are you going to stop me?”

“No. Why would I stop you?”

Malia brushed a hand through her long hair. As she walked slowly toward me, I caught a familiar scent.

“It’s starting, isn’t it? The monster attack.”

“... Yes.”

“And you’re going to stop it?”

“Stopping it is the other students’ job.”

I was not going to stop the attack. I was going to eliminate its cause.

Malia’s hand slid gently onto my cheek.

“In the past, that would have been your excuse to run away.”

Yes. Now I knew what that familiar scent was.

“But your eyes aren’t the same as they used to be.”

It was a mother’s scent. Entirely different from my mother’s scent before I came here.

And yet.

“Go on, then. But first...”

The hand on my cheek shifted slightly, covering my right eye.

Averil Family Hereditary Skill

Sensory Sharing

Her hand shone against my right eye. I felt nothing in particular, but I knew what it meant.

Before marrying Ampere, Malia had lived under the name Malia Averil. The Averil family possessed a hereditary skill passed down through the generations, just as Philly, a descendant of the völvas, possessed Foresight.

Malia’s Sensory Sharing allowed her to share one of the five senses with another person. This time, she had linked herself to my sight. She could see what I saw through my own eyes.

“I’ll borrow your eyes, so I can come to you whenever you need me.”

Her face was full of maternal tenderness.

Looking sheepish, I said, “Please protect Constel instead of coming to me.”

“Of course. As long as you come back unhurt.”

That seemed unlikely.

I blinked for a moment, then said, “I will.”

VROOM

Just then, the sound of a car engine reached us from the distance. A luxury sedan stopped in front of us, and a rear window lowered.

“Are you ready?”

It was Philly. She waved at Malia, who stood before me. She did not seem particularly surprised to find her there.

“I’ll be going, then.”

“Come back safely.”

I bowed my head to Malia and turned away. As soon as I got in, the sedan set off.

“Now, where should we go?”

“Three kilometers west of the Imperial Palace. Please stop there.”

“Is that where my daughter is?”

“No. We’ll walk a little after getting out there. Let’s send the car on to the Imperial Palace.”

“Can’t we drive all the way?”

“We need to go into the forest. The car can’t get through.”

That was one reason for sending the car to the Imperial Palace. The more important reason was the risk of Elysia spotting it and fleeing. If that happened, she would go to the Imperial Palace and turn the tables by falsely accusing Philly.

We had to avoid that complication.

“Hmm.”

Apparently satisfied with that explanation, Philly nodded.

“I still can’t believe it. One of my two daughters is the culprit.”

Her words came with a sigh. She still did not know that the culprit was Elysia.

“... Philly, may I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Can you truly treat your own daughter as an enemy?”

I knew how Philly would answer. In terms of gathering information, the question was meaningless.

But it had to be asked. For Philly’s own sake, too, I had to ask it.

“Of course. If someone is my enemy, I simply eliminate them, whether they’re my daughter or anyone else.”

... Yes. That answer was true. It was an honest answer, born of her genuine feelings.