Chapter 127

Despite—or rather, because of—a major incident involving a cursed dragon, the trade negotiations had gone incredibly smoothly. Count Malé, who had been staunchly opposed to expanding trade with the kingdom, softened up visibly after they’d slain the cursed dragon. After weathering that crisis together, the Farfolian guests seemed to have developed a sense of solidarity with Felix and the others. When the prince suggested that Ridill and Farfolia might work together against future dragonraids by sharing information and performing joint training exercises, the Farfolian delegation was beyond enthusiastic. Currently, dragonraid countermeasures varied by country, and different nations seldom worked together. This suggestion could bring Ridill and Farfolia into a cooperative partnership. Together, they could lead other nations in dragonraid countermeasures and—most importantly—firm up relations between their two kingdoms. Felix had not only won an increase in Farfolian grain imports but also an opportunity to strengthen Ridill and Farfolia’s relationship. These were major gains. And once the story got out that he’d slain a cursed dragon and achieved success in diplomatic talks with a neighboring nation, the nobles supporting him would be delighted indeed. …Of course, the cursed dragon wasn’t a natural threat but a man-made one—courtesy of Duke Clockford. As Felix sat in the carriage on his trip back to the castle, staring idly at the scenery outside the window, he reflected on everything that had happened in the Duchy of Rehnberg. The previous night, a servant had disappeared from the duke’s mansion—an elderly man named Peter Summs. Felix had been suspicious of him ever since arriving at the estate. That man was probably the one who had triggered the cursed dragon incident—all to make Felix into a hero. …They’d planned for me to slay the cursed dragon, but Peter lost control of his cursecraft and very nearly killed me. Perhaps he feared Duke Clockford’s censure and ran away. Everyone at the mansion, not least Eliane, had been worried about the missing Peter. He’d been acting extremely frightened ever since the cursed dragon attacked him, and it seemed the prevailing rumor was that it had traumatized him, and that was why he had left. Duke Clockford must be running out of options. Just before departing from Duke Rehnberg’s mansion, Felix received a letter. Its contents essentially said that the third prince’s faction would capitulate to his own. Apparently, Queen Phillis—the third prince’s mother—and Duke Clockford had struck some sort of deal. The third prince had few supporters to begin with, and he was the last in line for succession. Phillis had probably decided to ally herself with Duke Clockford in advance, in order to assure her son’s future. The third prince might not become king, but this would guarantee him some degree of status. The king has fallen ill, while the second prince is being showered with praise for slaying a cursed dragon. And now the third prince’s faction has allied with us… The throne will change hands very soon. The foundation for Felix to become the next king was essentially complete. And now he, who had always acted like a good little puppet for Duke Clockford, would finally have to take action. Peter Summs had used shamanic techniques to try to make a dragon into his puppet. Victor Thornlee, a former Serendia Academy professor, had been researching mental interference magecraft. When Felix considered the special talents of the people Duke Clockford had assembled, it was clear what he was after. You want to make me into a true puppet, don’t you? Mental interference magecraft could certainly interfere with a target’s mind and memories, but there was still no spell that could bring another person under one’s complete control. And so Duke Clockford had gathered talented mages and shamans in order to find a means by which he could create the perfect puppet and place the whole kingdom under his command. It would be nigh impossible to make a puppet of the king himself—he resided in the royal castle, surrounded by guards. But Felix was the duke’s grandson. He would have plenty of chances to cast a spell on him. I need more cards in my hand if I want to fight back… Fortunately, I had a bountiful harvest this week, including on a more personal note. The first positive outcome had been his exchanges with Glenn Dudley. While Glenn’s master, the Barrier Mage, supported the first prince, Glenn himself didn’t seem to have much interest in politics. His incredible mana capacity is very attractive. And I’m sure this incident will only make him grow. Glenn would be a Seven Sages candidate in the future. If Felix could put him under his thumb now, he would be extremely useful down the road. For these reasons, he hoped to continue building a friendly relationship with Glenn. Felix thought highly of his abilities, and he rather liked how he wore his heart on his sleeve. And the second… Felix took a sheaf of paper out of his luggage as a thin smile appeared on his lips. It was the report he’d had the Silent Witch correct for him. He’d worked little by little on his essay, between all the affairs of state and school activities he had to attend to. The fact that the mage he most looked up to would deign to read it still felt like a dream to him. I’m one step closer to her. The Silent Witch—that incredible mage served by the Black Dragon of Worgan himself—she was at Serendia Academy. Was she a student? A teacher? Or neither—a servant, perhaps? Whatever she was, it shouldn’t be very difficult to narrow down the options. According to the Abyss Shaman, the bruises from the curse that had affected the Silent Witch and Glenn Dudley would disappear, but the pain would persist for a month or so. In that case, all he had to do was look for a woman at Serendia Academy whose left arm hurt. …Soon, I’ll be able to meet her and see her face. He could barely contain his joy. Stifled laughter clicked in his throat. “Welcome home, Brother.” When he got back to the castle, the third prince, Albert, was there to greet him. Albert would be fourteen this year. He was a brainy-looking boy with straight blond hair and hazel eyes. He always acted politely toward Felix, but his gaze was sharp for his age, and he watched Felix very carefully. “Thanks for coming to greet me, Albert. How is His Majesty?” “…Not well, I hear. The doctor says he can’t see anyone. I believe he will still be making an appearance at the New Year’s ceremony, though.” “I see.” Felix made a sad face, and Albert stared hard at it, as if trying to glean any information he could. The letter from Duke Clockford said the third prince’s faction had given up on the throne and joined the second prince’s group… Apparently, though, Albert wasn’t happy with the situation. His mother, Phillis, had probably been the one to make the decision, while Albert himself hadn’t yet accepted it. Felix narrowed his azure eyes into a gentle, brotherly expression. “Albert, I hear you plan to leave Minerva’s and transfer to Serendia Academy.” “…I do.” Albert’s face twisted into a bitter expression. Most people knew Minerva’s as the most prestigious school for mages in the kingdom. But it had one other important characteristic: It was politically neutral. For Albert, moving from Minerva’s to Serendia—which was under Duke Clockford’s control—meant surrendering to the second prince’s faction. He probably hadn’t wanted to transfer, and this, too, was something Phillis had put him up to. “Well, I for one will be happy to see my adorable little brother at school. Serendia Academy’s facilities and teaching staff are both first-rate. I hope you’ll apply yourself earnestly to your studies and meet Queen Phillis’s expectations.” Queen Phillis’s expectations—in other words, to remove himself from the line of succession, accept a middling position, and make his mother look good. Albert must have understood what he meant, but the third prince wasn’t yet able to fully control his own emotions. Humiliated, his cheeks twitched, and his body trembled. Still, he managed to squeeze out a few words. “…Yes. I’ll do my best to become an upstanding person like you, Brother.” Several ministers were waiting behind Albert; they all seemed to want to talk to Felix. There was no need to drag this out. With a short “I’m looking forward to it,” he slipped past his brother. Albert set a dark glare on Felix as he watched him greet the ministers and discuss upcoming plans. Felix, however, didn’t even spare him another glance. Albert left the room, suppressing the urge to stomp his feet. Once he’d turned two corners, his patience ran out, and he started to run. He stopped at the end of the hallway and called out, “Patrick! Patrick!” A boy about his age sauntered over to him. “Yes, Lord Albert? Did you call?” His servant, Patrick, was a plump boy with wavy, light-brown hair. It wasn’t just his hair, either—even his smile and manner of speaking seemed somehow wavy and soft. Unhappy with his servant’s attitude, Albert stomped his feet. “Patrick! Why are you so relaxed?! When a master runs, his servant should run, too!” “Oh, but I don’t think it’s good to run in the halls.” Patrick was correct. But Albert pursed his lips like a sulking child. “Patrick, did you see my brother’s attitude?” “He seemed the same as usual to me.” “He doesn’t care a lick about me. It was written all over his face!” “The same as always, then.” “It’s his fault I have to leave Minerva’s! I have a talent for magecraft, you know—unlike him! I could have done amazing, wonderful, brilliant things if I stayed there! But he’s making me… He’s…” Albert began to claw at his blond hair in frustration. Patrick patted it down and straightened it out for him. As he let his servant fix his hair, Albert issued an order. “Patrick, I want a thorough investigation of Felix’s school life. What subjects he’s good at, which ones he’s bad at, his interests, his special skills, his friends, his marriage candidates, the things he wants to keep secret, and anything else you can think of! Doesn’t matter! Just find out as much about him as you can! Maybe we can spot a weakness or two!” Patrick’s tone stayed slow and relaxed. “Do I have to?” he asked. “Lord Felix is perfect. Do you really think he has a weakness?” “It’s your job to find one, Patrick!” “Well, all right. I’ll give it a try.” As Albert continued to pompously order around his servant, he thought. Ugh, this is the worst. He resented all of them—the adults pulling him this way and that and his brother, who looked down on him like he wasn’t even a threat. Albert was better at schoolwork than other kids his age. His motor skills were a little below average, and he couldn’t seem to hit anything with a sword. He was scared of riding horses and a slow runner. But for all that, he tried twice as hard as anyone else in the classroom. And yet nobody cared. Nobody looked at him. It was like they thought a third prince might as well not even exist. …It really doesn’t matter if I’m here or not. I’m just a third prince. Nobody cares about me. Not Father, not Mother, not Felix… Though I guess Lionel’s different. Albert didn’t resent the first prince so much. In fact, he kind of liked him. Lionel could be a little overbearing sometimes, but he showed Albert affection. He didn’t make fun of him just because he couldn’t ride a horse—instead, he’d ride the horse with him. Everyone else said Lionel was unrefined for a prince. But while Felix may have looked kindhearted on the outside, Albert thought that Lionel was much nicer. The adults all say Felix is best suited for the throne. But you can never tell what he’s thinking. What’s so good about him? …And he isn’t even upset that Father’s sick. When he’d told Felix about their father’s poor health, his brother had made a sad face, but his eyes hadn’t looked sad at all. I mean, okay. Royalty isn’t supposed to get emotional. But isn’t that a little cold? Even Lionel is sad. He was barely eating. To be honest, Albert found Felix creepy. He had a pretty face, but it always seemed to be hiding something. I’ll expose Felix’s true colors… We’ll be going to the same school once the break ends. This is my chance to figure out his weakness! A week had passed since the start of winter break, and Hilda Everett was at a total loss. She’d turn forty this year, and while she was unmarried, she was a scientist at the Royal Magic Research Institute and made good money, so she was able to live in a snug house in the royal capital. Hilda was disastrously bad at chores. That was why she left them all to Matilda, her veteran housemaid. But now Matilda had two weeks off for the winter solstice and New Year’s break. The ever-considerate Matilda had made a big batch of food for Hilda that wouldn’t go bad and lined it up on the table, telling her to share it with her foster daughter if and when she came home. Despite all this, one day during the break, Hilda decided on a whim to try making some soup, thus ruining every single one of the meals Matilda had left for her. “That’s strange. I was only trying to make soup. How did all this happen?” She’d thrown in whatever ingredients she could find, then turned the heat up to maximum without stirring them at all. As a result, the soup had boiled over and the bottom had burned. It was a disaster. As Hilda was hastily trying to clean up the pot, she didn’t realize its handles would be hot, too, and she’d wound up flipping the whole thing over. She was a talented scientist, a genius who had mastered the use of all kinds of experimental devices. And yet, sadly, she couldn’t even figure out how one of her own pots worked. This alone would have made any housemaid slump to her knees in despair, but the tragedy didn’t end there. In order to clean the soup off the floor, Hilda had tried to wash it away using water magecraft. Unfortunately, the stains weren’t coming out. Frustrated, she continued her chant, strengthening the water pressure, until— “…Ah—” —the surging water, strong enough to be an attack spell, destroyed one of the table’s four legs. Naturally, the table tilted over, and all the food Matilda had left on it fell onto the soaked floor like an avalanche. And that was why Hilda Everett was now at a complete loss. Though she claimed she had only been trying to make soup, it was obvious that other factors were at play. As Hilda was considering improvements to her magecraft formula—partially as a way to escape from the reality in front of her—there was a reserved knock at the back door. Is that her? she thought, her chest swelling with anticipation. She went over to the door, her boots squelching against the soaked floor, and opened it. “I-I’m…home.” A petite girl with light-brown hair delivered her typical, awkward greeting. It was Monica Everett, Hilda’s foster daughter. “My!” Hilda exclaimed in spite of herself, wrapping Monica’s slender body in a hug. “Welcome home, Monica. When I got your Shelgria card, I was sure you’d come home this year… But why did you come to the back door?” “Ummm, I used the knocker on the front door. But nobody answered, so…” Monica had lived in this house until only a few years ago, and she still had a key. She could have just let herself in. But as always, she ended up overthinking it. “Well, it’s too cold to stand outside talking, so come in—but you’ll need to go back around to the front.” “Huh?” “My wonderful daughter is finally home. I want to greet you properly, at the front door,” said Hilda, moving so Monica couldn’t see the disastrous state of the kitchen. Monica went around and entered the house through the front door. Once inside, she looked around at her former home, to which she hadn’t returned in some time. Hilda’s house was more than big enough for a woman living on her own, but it was a mess, filled with books and experimental apparatuses. Nevertheless, the place was clean of dust and spiderwebs—thanks to the housemaid’s efforts, no doubt. It’s been…so long…