Mana didn’t only power mana-based devices; it also affected one’s natural regeneration. Nobles naturally had large supplies of mana, so even if they didn’t Awaken to any powers, they still tended to be more sturdy than commoners. They also healed from wounds and illnesses more quickly.
Estelle was no exception. Come next morning, she had already recovered enough to be able to sit up. She couldn’t move her left arm and still had a slight fever, but her appetite had returned. After she’d eaten a meal that was easy on her stomach, had her bandage changed, and had the sweat wiped from her body while she was at it, she felt considerably better.
Another scar, she thought. When her engagement had been broken off, that had left a scar too, a scar that still hurt; now she had a physical one to go with it.
Disregarding the maid’s efficient attentions, Estelle gently touched her bandaged upper arm.
The Rogells’ family doctor had come first thing in the morning and told Estelle about the state of her injury. Luckily, the bullet had only penetrated the flesh of her left upper arm, so the wound wouldn’t take too long to heal. However, he had told her that it would most likely leave a scar, as the weapon the assailant had used was a mana pistol.
Mana-based guns could only be used by those with sufficient mana. Every time the trigger was pulled, some of the wielder’s mana was absorbed and converted into energy, which was then fired as a bullet. It was said that the blasts from these weapons always left scars, even in spite of a noble’s regenerative ability, due to the fact that they brought another’s mana in contact with the victim’s wound.
This meant that Estelle could no longer wear dresses that exposed her shoulders and arms—and that her value as an unmarried woman had been brought down once more. As a noble, she was glad she had managed to protect a member of the royal family. But when she thought of her own future, she regretted not running instead.
“Um, it’s difficult to say this, miss...” began the maid, hesitant.
“What?”
“His Highness Prince Arcrayne—as well as my master—have said they wish to speak to you... May I let them in?”
Estelle had gone two days without a bath due to her injury, and all she had for clothing was the dressing gown over her nightwear. She was reluctant to be seen by a man in such a state of undress, but she couldn’t turn down a prince’s request.
“Very well. I’ll see them,” replied Estelle, since she had no other choice.
Arcrayne and Claus entered the room a few moments later, looking dazzling enough to make Estelle even more ashamed of her current sorry state.
On one side, a blond prince and a silver-haired marquess. On the other, a woman with plain brown hair, with one scar from losing her fiancé and another from a pistol. Compared to these two radiant noblemen, Estelle felt she looked shabby and pitiful. She hung her head and adjusted the shawl the maid had given her with her unharmed right hand, seeking to hide her body to whatever extent she could.
Arcrayne took a seat on the chair by the bed and flashed a smile at Estelle. Claus stood behind him.
“Allow me to first express my gratitude, Lady Estelle. Thank you. It is because you risked your life that I live to see another day.”
“My body moved before I could think, Your Highness. It is wonderful to know you were unhurt.”
“How do you feel? I’ve been told your fever has gone down.”
“I still have a slight fever, but I feel better than yesterday.”
“I’ve also been told the bullet will leave a scar. It’s an inexcusable thing to happen to an unmarried woman. I intend to do whatever is in my power for you. For example, introduce you to a new fiancé.”
Estelle’s gaze snapped up.
“I’m aware of the misfortune that has beset you, Lady Estelle,” he continued. “Your engagement to Earl Wyntia’s son was broken off due to Pautrier’s involvement, was it not? His company supports the second prince. Have you, by any chance, sided with me to avoid encountering them?”
“It is as you say, Your Highness,” replied Estelle after a brief pause. “I would be delighted to be introduced to a man who would be of benefit to House Flozeth.”
A magnanimous smile appeared on Arcrayne’s face.
“Very well. I’ll introduce you to someone who’s a perfect match for you...but first, there’s something I need to ask you about.” Arcrayne’s mana clouded over in an instant.
What’s going on...? wondered Estelle.
Arcrayne wasn’t the only one with dark mana in the room. The same went for Claus’s.
Fear crept into the confused Estelle. Arcrayne was smiling—but for a brief moment, he seemed to her like a ferocious predator who had set his sights on her.
“The way you moved in our dance before the shooter pulled the trigger... It was rather suspicious. Almost as though you were guiding me somewhere. Why was that?”
Estelle went pale. What do I do? I can’t tell him. I can’t let people know of this power. How do I explain it away? A barrage of thoughts appeared in her mind, one after another.
“You cannot answer because you have a guilty conscience. Am I correct? Estelle Flozeth,” cut in Claus. “You and Lord Flozeth were first-time guests that day. Perhaps you arranged for that man to sneak in here because you wanted to curry favor with His Highness?”
“What?” It took some time for Estelle to process Claus’s words. “My lord, are you saying that assassination attempt was some sort of ruse concocted by me and my brother?”
“Simply put, we’re investigating the possibility you were the masterminds behind it. And your brother just so happens to be staying here too, at the moment.”
“What is the meaning of this?! What have you done with my brother?!” Claus’s high-handed manner had aroused fear in Estelle.
Arcrayne intervened. “That’s uncalled for, Claus. She’s still only a suspect.” But his graceful smile did not touch his eyes, and his mana was still dark. “We haven’t done anything to Lord Flozeth yet, other than have him stay in another drawing room. He has seemed awfully haggard from worry these past two days.”
Estelle held her breath.
“Let me see my brother, please.”
“I can’t do that. It would be a problem if you two collaborated on a story to tell us. Whether we interrogate your dear brother or not is something I plan to decide after hearing what you have to say for yourself.”
“My brother would never do something so outrageous. It should become clear if you properly investigate the matter!”
“The shooter killed himself. At the moment, we have no clue as to his motives or anything else about him,” Claus informed her with a cold expression.
Arcrayne’s expression, on the other hand, remained gentle. “Could you tell us if you happen to know anything? For your dear brother’s sake too.”
If you looked at their attitude alone, this was a case of carrot and stick. Claus was putting pressure on her with his high-handed attitude, while Arcrayne spoke gently, as though trying to reason with her. But since Estelle could sense their mana, it was no different from both of them threatening her.
“I saw that man in the crowd while we danced,” Estelle finally said. “I could tell he was aiming at you, Your Highness, so I wanted to distance ourselves from him to whatever degree I could.”
“You’re telling me you noticed the shooter at such a distance, and in that crowd? If you’re going to give us this rubbish, at least come up with something less cliché.” Claus shot an icy glare at Estelle—a look so cold it befitted his title of Lord Ice.
“Claus, you’re scaring Lady Estelle.” The smiling prince with dark mana was another source of dread for her. “Look, my patience is starting to run out. Would you answer me while I’m still asking nicely?” Arcrayne’s smile vanished at once, leaving only those furious blue eyes that seemed as though they could see right through Estelle. His mana grew even more sinister.
I’m scared, thought Estelle. As he was both royalty and an Awoken, Arcrayne’s mana was denser than that of anyone of lower status—it was so massive that it covered his whole body. And that dense mana was now murky with his anger.