Once the banquet ended and the guests had departed, Liliana made a hasty retreat from Fortier. Her father would return to the royal capital a day later, after reviewing the situation in the duchy. She suspected it would take some time for her grandparents to finish packing, and her mother and brother weren’t going anywhere. Belinda lived at the estate, and Clyde would remain with her for the time being.
Liliana had assumed that staying at the estate would be tolerable enough. Yet now, on her way home and finally able to relax, she realized she must have been tense from the moment they arrived.
I didn’t even learn anything important.
Only on her first day had she discovered anything of value. From the second day onward, her family and the servants had made it difficult to explore the manor in secret, so she had spent her time holed up in her chambers.
I suppose I can at least say my brother doesn’t seem to hate me all that much—a stark contrast to the game. Still, I don’t know whether his path has changed, or if fate will intervene to alter his feelings toward me.
Liliana couldn’t read while the coach was in motion, so she simply sat and reflected on her stay in Fortier. She looked at Petra Myyrylainen out of the corner of her eye. The mage hated nobles, so she had spent as little time in the estate as she could get away with.
Unconsciously, Liliana touched the necklace hidden beneath her clothes—the amulet Petra had given her. She didn’t know its purpose, but it had been in perfect condition when she received it. Since her conversation with the Minister of Magic, however, she had noticed a white crack running down the center of its sugilite inset.
Did this happen during the gathering, when I heard that metallic noise?
Though Liliana had devoted herself to studying magic, she didn’t yet know enough about magical items to draw any firm conclusions. She would need to consult someone with more experience.
“Petra, would it be all right for me to visit your room tonight?” she asked through telepathy.
The mage glanced at her, nodded, and then returned to staring out the window. It happened so quickly that Marianne didn’t even notice.
With Petra’s permission secured, Liliana slowly closed her eyes. Drowsiness crept up on her—and before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
✦ ✦ ✦
As night fell, the coach arrived at the only town where Liliana had ventured outside to eat—the one hemmed in by dense forest. She went out for a meal, returned to her lodgings to bathe, and then teleported with practiced precision to Petra’s room.
“There you are,” the mage said. “Take this. I tried it on the way to Fortier and thought it was good, so I picked up some more.”
Liliana gratefully accepted a bottle of apple juice before sinking onto the couch. Sitting without her teacher’s permission was hardly proper noble etiquette, but Petra didn’t care—she was too absorbed in her own drink. A bag lay on the floor nearby, and on closer inspection, Liliana saw it was filled with dried meat and other foods the mage had said she wanted to buy as gifts.
“You must’ve felt constrained at the manor,” Liliana said, then brought a hand to her chest. “And thank you for this magical pendant.”
Petra raised an eyebrow. “I only called it an amulet—never said it was magical. But I knew you’d notice anyway.” A pleased grin spread across her face, more satisfied than surprised. “I did feel constrained at the manor, yes. And I sensed something off about it. But I was barely there, as I’m sure your handmaiden told you. It’s all right; nothing happened to me. I’m sure you were fine too.”
The mage’s unease had been the reason she gave Liliana the pendant in the first place. Perhaps she had brought it for her own use; it would explain why she had largely avoided the estate after passing it to her student.
“It kept me safe, but there’s something that’s been bothering me.” Liliana set her juice on the table, then removed her necklace and held it out. “The mineral cracked.”
“It cracked...?” Petra muttered, her expression turning serious as she accepted the amulet. She held it up to the ceiling light, inspecting it closely. “Yes, so it did.”
“Does this mean it blocked some kind of attack?”
Petra didn’t reply immediately. She rose, retrieved a pen and paper from her bag in the corner, and returned to her seat. Quickly, she drew a sigil—a neat circle adorned with strange patterns and writing. Placing the necklace in the center, Petra channeled her mana into it.
“By my name, I command thee to reveal the true form of that which thou hast thwarted.”
Though it was different from the incantations Liliana had read about, Petra’s spell clearly bore some relation to the magic used in Slivegrandia. Liliana watched closely, captivated by the unfamiliar sight.
When the incantation ended, a black haze parted from the mineral, coalesced into strange letters, and then dissipated. Petra exhaled, sweat beading on her forehead. She retrieved the necklace and incinerated the paper bearing the sigil, reducing it swiftly to ash.
“I’ll dispose of the amulet safely,” she said.
“Um, what did you find out?” Liliana asked, still struggling to comprehend what she had just witnessed.
“I got the gist of it, but nothing more. The pendant blocked an attempt to meddle with your mind.”
Liliana blinked in surprise—mental interference magic was strictly forbidden.
“It was a high-level spell,” Petra continued, her displeasure evident. “And of course, no one would have noticed it. I don’t know what the intended effect was, but we can safely assume the caster had no concern for your well-being.”
“A person capable of using that kind of magic must be well-known.”
And wield enough status to know a banned spell in the first place.
“Right,” Petra said with a nod. Though her displeasure had eased, her brow remained tightly knit as she fiddled with the pendant. “Was there a mage at the banquet? I gave it a miss, remember.”
“Nicholas Bergson, the Minister of Magic.”
“That bald buffoon...” Petra hissed. “I don’t doubt he knows the spell, but he lacks the ability to cast it alone. His use of mental interference magic would be extremely limited.”
“Was he not made minister for his talents?” Liliana asked, head tilted in confusion. The mage’s low opinion of him seemed at odds with his position.
“Not for his talents, no. For his parents’ connections.” She paused, took a steadying breath, then continued in a more measured tone. “If there were no other mages around, that smooth-headed sneak must be to blame. I’d wager he was trying either to amplify an existing emotion or to remove a spell already cast on you—a hex, most likely.”
She was right on the mark.
“So he was trying to bring my voice back?”
“That seems the most plausible explanation,” Petra said, wrapping the necklace in a cloth designed to block magic and hexes before tossing it to the bottom of her bag. “I won’t know for certain without a proper analysis, though.”
“Do magical items make a sound when they’re damaged?”
“Yeah. The noise this one made was probably metallic—and too high-pitched for older people to hear.”
Everything matched perfectly with what Liliana remembered. Petra’s hypothesis was all but certain to be correct—not that Liliana had ever doubted anything she said about magic or hexes. The mage always drew a strict line between fact and opinion, never claiming more than she knew.
“You told me before that dispelling a hex is dangerous. Could it really have been done so easily?”
“Definitely not. You or the other party might’ve died, or the hex could’ve bounced back on that bald fool and left him mute. Though personally, I’d call that a blessing—spare the world his yammering for good.”
Perhaps Bergson simply hadn’t known the risks of dispelling a hex, and the pendant had saved them both. In that sense, Liliana had been doubly lucky: She had escaped death and managed to remain voiceless.
“I’m glad it didn’t work. Even if I got my voice back, I wouldn’t want anyone to know.”
“Oh...?” Petra blinked a few times in shock. Liliana had asked for help regaining her voice, but this was the first time she’d revealed her intention to remain mute regardless of the result.
“I’m a candidate for the crown prince’s fiancée, but I don’t want to be. As the daughter of one of the three most prominent dukes, though, I can’t simply withdraw from the running.”
“Makes sense...” Petra gave a throaty chuckle, caught off guard by Liliana’s response. “Still, I’m pretty sure most girls your age would want to marry a prince.”
“Some would, but the burden would be far too heavy for me.”
Liliana’s thoughts drifted to Malvina Tanner, hostile as she was. If not for her nature, the girl might have taken her education as a crown princess candidate more seriously.
Petra shook her head. “I think I speak for most commoners when I say we’d prefer those at the helm to get there reluctantly, not out of a hunger for power or the resolve to do anything to keep it. The reluctant ones would understand us better, if you ask me.”
“It doesn’t have to be me, though.”
Liliana retrieved her bottle of juice from the table and took a sip, having settled the matter of the cracked pendant and put Petra’s half-serious remark about her candidacy to rest. Only one thing remained that she wanted to know.
“Did the minister notice his spell was repelled?”
“He could probably tell from the fact you still don’t have your voice. But even then, I doubt he’d know for sure that it was repelled by a magical item.”
“That’s good.”
Petra’s phrasing wasn’t exactly reassuring, but Liliana figured the duke hadn’t heard the pendant break either. With that thought, the tension finally left her shoulders. She enjoyed some idle conversation with Petra before returning to her chambers earlier than usual.
Come morning, their journey back home would resume peacefully—or at least, that was the plan.