Franster? Milly, unfazed, fell silent for a few seconds before exclaiming, “Oh! Franster. You’re from the line of the Count of Magic, aren’t you?”
“Oh, then you have heard of us?”
“Yes. I was saddened by the news of Lord Neil. Illness, they said. But still, to pass away just one month shy of his hundredth birthday...”
“If you could remember my grandfather, I’d have liked you to remember me too,” Edgar said with a smirk. But Milly couldn’t help it. She truly had no memory of him.
The Franster family held the kingdom’s sole title of “Count of Magic,” treasured as pillars of Aviria, where sorcery reigned supreme. To Milly, who had devoted her life to study and magic, the Franster family was nothing less than an ideal to look up to.
If only I’d met the famed great sorcerer Lord Neil while he was still alive. If time was going to rewind, it could at least have arranged that much.
As Milly silently grumbled at fate, the bespectacled boy spoke up hesitantly. “Um, so then, does that mean you don’t remember me either?” he mumbled so quietly it was hard to make out.
Milly studied his face for a few seconds, then nodded without hesitation. “Correct. I don’t recall you at all.”
“But two years ago at a party I actually worked up the courage to greet you.”
“My apologies. If you would, perhaps you could summon that courage once more?”
“Amazing, saying something like that with such an innocent face.”
Milly looked him over again, but still found no memory stirring.
If anything, the hair falling all the way to his collar seemed sloppy, and the thin-framed glasses paired with his long bangs only made him look gloomy. He gave her no impression beyond being a dreary presence. If Kyle had laid eyes on him, he’d probably have screeched and hacked that hair short with scissors on the spot.
Unaware of the appraisal he was receiving, the boy murmured on, “I’m Nicholas Einzdohr, Class 2-A. I’m nominally the student council president, though really it’s just for show. I look forward to working with you.”
Einzdohr. The name rang half familiar in Milly’s mind.
As she puzzled over it, Gilbert, seated beside her, supplied the missing detail. “Nicholas is the eldest son of a ducal family. A distant relative of mine.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, though, does it?”
That additional information hadn’t, in fact, been of any help—but even if it had, she still didn’t actually know the boy. All that mattered was that she stayed positive here.
The council is supposed to have six people, isn’t it? Nicholas, Edgar, Gilbert, Lucius—who isn’t here right now—and me. Which means there’s one more.
Milly gave a thoughtful nod. One more member she didn’t know.
If I’m lucky, it’ll be another first-year, though that might be too much to hope for.
She mused on this while half listening to the idle chatter of the others, until the heavy doors creaked open again. Reflexively, Milly looked up. And then her thoughts snagged for just a moment at the sight that slipped through the gap.
The boy who entered had hair so pale it seemed to glow, a head of silver-white that was almost translucent.
So this is the last member of the council?
The scarf at his neck was red, the color of the first-years.
As usual, Milly felt no flicker of recognition, but Nicholas supplied the name. “You’re late, Ike.”
The boy called Ike lifted his downcast eyes and slowly swept the room with his gaze. At the head sat Nicholas. Edgar lounged with his usual air of boredom. Gilbert’s face had gone strangely tense.
Then Ike’s crimson eyes landed on Milly and his expression tightened. “Why is she here?” The voice was deep, far too low to match his ethereal appearance.
After a beat, Milly reacted. “I’m sorry?”
She was the only girl present, after all. Which meant he could only be referring to her. But before she could process that, Gilbert shot to his feet. “How dare you address the grand duke’s daughter like that?!”
“Answer me first. Why is she here?”
“Not until you curb your tongue.”
“Will no one answer?” Ike cut across Gilbert’s words, glaring at Milly. “Tell me why a woman of the grand ducal house is here.”
Silence fell over the council chamber, heavy and oppressive. Under Ike’s unblinking crimson gaze, Milly faltered. He had called her out, and yet she had no idea why he was so furious.
Why is he so angry? Do I know him somehow? But Milly had never seen Ike before. Naturally, she had no idea why he would be directing such hostility at her.
While everyone else wavered in confusion, Nicholas said, “Not ‘she.’ Lady Milly. The grand duke’s daughter is a council member as of this year.”
“What?”
“She’s no intruder. Her being here isn’t odd in the least. Why are you so shocked?” Nicholas’s reply was simple and correct.
Ike, however, only stared in disbelief. His blazing crimson eyes opened wide as he fixed them on Milly.
Something about his look unsettled her. “Um...”
At her side, Gilbert glanced at her in concern.
Milly gave him a small look to reassure him, then continued more firmly. “I’m sorry. I don’t actually recognize you.”
“What?”
“Have I done something to offend you? Is that why you’re angry?”
Though poor at dealing with people, Milly was doing her best to probe for the cause. She didn’t know who he was or what his circumstances might be, but the hostility aimed at her was undeniable. And as a fellow council member, she needed to uncover the reason behind it.
“Ike, is it?” In the heavy silence of the chamber, her question was the only sound. If she could understand the cause, maybe there would be some way to resolve it.
But Ike’s reply crushed that fragile hope in an instant. “Don’t... Don’t spout nonsense at me, you foolish girl!”
The furious roar shook Milly’s ears. Before she could even react, Gilbert was on his feet. “Ike! That’s enough!”
“Shut up! You don’t recognize me?! Say that again—I dare you!”
“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?! No matter who you are...”
“I said, shut up! The trash of the grand ducal house, sitting on the council?! Don’t make me laugh!” Ike’s rage boiled over, his shoulders trembling as he advanced on Milly.
Sensing real danger, Milly instinctively rose, but Gilbert stepped in at once, holding her back. “Stay behind me.” He pressed a steady hand against her shoulder to shield her.
The force made Milly stumble back a step, and in that instant, a sickening realization struck. Even as the shouting continued, she let out a faint groan. Her stomach churned audibly, cold sweat breaking across her brow. Alarms went off in her mind. She knew this feeling all too well.
“What’s this? After wrecking my family, now you play the victim?” Noticing her condition, Ike’s tone grew only harsher.
With every eye in the room fixed on her, Milly pressed a hand to her stomach. “I... I feel sick.”
“What?”
Milly bolted from the council chamber.
There was no mistaking it. The nausea roiling inside her was from the mountain of cake cream. What she’d half forgotten was now churning in her stomach, shaken loose at the worst possible time, and brewing the vilest of combinations.
Th-This is bad! I can’t possibly vomit at school! Water! I need water!
Clutching her mouth and gathering her skirt, she ran full tilt toward the dining hall. She had no idea that, back in the council chamber, the atmosphere had curdled into something strange. All she could do was flee.