THE next day, an incident occurred at school. A falcon flew around the school with a wig in its beak. Needless to say, that was all a part of Mr. Vil’s cunning plan. Since the falcon stood out like a sore thumb—I mean, how could it not?—he was certain that the owner would frantically try to retrieve it.
Students and professors tried to capture the falcon, but not as we’d hoped. They tried to chase the bird away for causing a fuss, but none of them tried to retrieve the wig. Finding this plan a bust, Mr. Vil carefully had the falcon retreat. We then made lost-and-found posters about the wig and even asked Professor Whipp if any employees wore a hairpiece, but our efforts were for naught. We ultimately resorted to carefully studying everyone’s heads to see if any of them might be secretly wearing a wig, and three days passed with little results.
After class, I met with Mr. Vil in the courtyard. It was the clearing under the big tree where I initially encountered him, and I had Gem stand guard a short distance away to ensure that no one was sneaking up on us. An army of squirrels had gathered by Mr. Vil’s feet, and the animals looked at me like I was some kind of vixen intruding, but I ignored them to listen to his report.
“I decided to give the wig to the school,” he said.
“Really? It’s a valuable piece of evidence, isn’t it?”
“I gave them a fake wig. The real one’s still with me.” He even cast a charm on it to track anyone who tried to steal the fake wig.
“You’re so smart!” I praised.
All we could do now was pray that the culprit would fall for the bait.
As Mr. Vil had predicted, the wig was stolen that night. Thefts were often covered up at Vizer so as not to cause an uproar. Mr. Vil had sent a magical creature to eavesdrop on a conversation the headmaster had with someone.
“I sent some mice to listen in on the school,” Mr. Vil said.
“You’ve got your bases covered.”
But why is the headmaster involved in covering up a theft? I wondered. Normally, an incident like this would be reported to the knights so they could launch an investigation.
“The headmaster didn’t steal it, did he?” I asked.
“Who knows,” Mr. Vil mumbled.
He wasn’t sure who the headmaster was talking to, but he tracked down where that fake wig ended up. I stared at him with disbelief.
“The royal castle,” he revealed.
“What? I-I don’t understand why it would go there…”
“Me neither.”
He said that his father worked at the castle and suspected that someone close to him was the culprit. It came as no surprise that the castle and its nearby areas were under a barrier that obstructed all sorts of magic and spells; Mr. Vil was only able to get a vague location of where the wig was. If we wanted to delve deeper, we had to enter the castle.
“I’d like to head to the castle, but it’s not a place where I can swing by for a visit,” he grumbled.
I gasped. “Mr. Vil! I was actually invited to a societal debut ball that’s hosted there!” If we could sneak inside, I felt like we could investigate further. “I planned on declining the invitation, but maybe it’s a good opportunity for us to do some snooping.”
“Huh? Wait, why did you plan to decline?”
“Er…”
I gazed into the distance, but a nearby squirrel urged me to speak instead of making silly excuses.
“Um, these debuts cost a lot of money,” I said.
My father gave me enough money to buy a normal dress, but that wasn’t nearly enough—after all, a dress for a societal debut was an expensive occasion. A normal dress wouldn’t cut it; it was tradition to wear a pure-white one with long hems. Each dress was a custom, made-to-order outfit. I couldn’t just buy one on the fly.
“And I need a chaperone as well…” I added.
Usually, a married woman took care of the younger lady making her debut. She’d find proper dance partners and chase away any men whose societal status didn’t match the lady’s. She’d also try to introduce the young lady to men who were her match and act like a mother sending her baby chick down the right path into adulthood.
One had to request a woman to be a chaperone a few years in advance so they would have more than enough time to prepare for the young lady on her big day. Since I assumed that I’d marry Rudolph, I had no intention of making a debut in society and told my mother as much. I thus had made no preparations.
“Debuts are usually events where young men and women find a marriage partner,” I said. “Since I had a fiancé back then, I didn’t plan on attending.”
Mr. Vil furrowed his brow and let out a loud sigh.
“Um… Did I say something odd?” I asked.
“You’ve only said something odd,” he griped. “A societal debut isn’t just a place to find a marriage partner. That’s more of an add-on.”
“Oh…”
“Your governess or someone probably told you that these debuts are only for romantic reasons, so I don’t blame you, but…”
My wet nurse did mention that it was an occasion to meet my fated man, and it was a place to act like a beautiful noblewoman so that I would be fancied by a splendid man. Hence, I always just assumed that debuts were used for nothing else.
“In our nation, a debut allows a family to introduce their daughter to the king to prove that she has matured into a lady,” Mr. Vil explained. “Not all nobles are invited. It’s an honor to simply receive an invitation.”
“R-Right…” I stammered. I felt embarrassed for being so wrong about debuts.
“It’s not your fault for not knowing,” he said. “Had you been in the royal capital, your image of the occasion would’ve been different.”
Households with ladies who would make their debut would prepare a year or two in advance, and it was often a popular topic.
“My younger sister is making her debut this year, and it’s been quite chaotic with her preparing for it the past year,” he added.
“Ah, you have a younger sister…”
He always seemed to be in his own world, so I assumed he was an only child. Mr. Vil’s younger sister was seventeen, the same age as me, and was attending a finishing school.
“Will you be attending her debut with her?” I asked.
Generally, a man would act as a guard when a lady made her debut, and family members were perfect fits for that role.
“With my sister? You’ve got to be kidding,” he spat.
“Then, will she attend with her father?” I asked.
“Who knows?”
Sounds like he doesn’t really get along with his family or have much to do with them. Still, it seems like I should attend this occasion. My biggest concern is the dress.
“Even if I order a dress right now, I doubt I’d make it in time,” I muttered. “And I’m sure ready-made ones are already all sold out.”
Could I gather up all the lacy fabric in my house and stick it onto a white dress? If someone squinted from afar, one might think that I was a lady making her debut, but even then, it’d be a cheap costume at best. I certainly couldn’t wear such poor attire in front of His Majesty the King.
“Wh-What do I do…” I mumbled.
“Why not rely on Marquess and Marchioness Leviathan?” Mr. Vil suggested. “He’s your guardian and the one to rely on in the royal capital, no?”
“Yeah. How do you—” I cut myself off with a gasp of recollection. Mr. Vil had been at the marquess’s house when I went to visit.“Are you friends with Marquess Leviathan?”
“You can say that,” he replied.
It sounded like he didn’t want me to pry further, so I shut my mouth.
“The marchioness was the queen’s former seamstress,” Mr. Vil said. “I’m sure she can fix something up for you.”
“I had no idea…” I muttered. “But I wonder if I can just suddenly pose such a difficult request to her.”
“Why not? I think they’ll be happy to hear it.” He urged me to act quickly and suggested we head to their manor immediately.
“Um, but I should prepare a carriage to head there first,” I said.
“I’ve got that covered,” Mr. Vil replied. He used his fingers and let out a shrill whistle. A massive shadow loomed over us.
“What?! Eep!” I shrieked.
A strong gust of wind hit me and almost blew me away. Even the army of squirrels braced themselves and stayed put, but I could hardly stand for much longer when Mr. Vil grabbed my arm and drew me close, supporting me at my waist. He was so close that I immediately felt embarrassed, and my heart began to pound.
BAM! A massive dragon descended before me in all its glory. It was larger than a truck, and its snow-white body was dazzling.
“Wh-What is this beautiful creature?!” I cried.
“My familiar, Sacred,” Mr. Vil said.
Its name meant “holy beast,” and it was apparently a divine dragon. A dragon stood at the top of all familiars and boasted supreme power. The squirrels also looked surprised; they must’ve never seen it before.
“If we fly on Sacred, we can get to the manor in a flash,” Mr. Vil said awfully casually.
“Can we fly on a dragon?!” I gasped.
“Sure can.”
I’d only seen people riding on dragons in manga and anime; I never would’ve dreamed of experiencing it for myself. In this magical world, anything seemed possible. Sacred lowered itself so that we could climb on its back. Mr. Vil jumped on first and told me to get on.
“O-Okay!” I shouted. “Gem!”
My spirit, who’d been keeping watch, rolled over to me. It didn’t seem particularly surprised or amused when it saw a sacred dragon.
“Mr. Vil, can Gem get on, too?” I asked.
“Sure, but won’t it roll away?” he inquired.
At once, my familiar leapt up and turned into a saddle on Sacred’s back.
“Gem! You’re so smart!” I cried.
The saddle would provide more stability in the skies. With Mr. Vil’s assistance, I climbed on Sacred’s back; Gem turned into a seatbelt of sorts to ensure that I had a safe trip in the air. At my private instructor’s signal, Sacred flapped its majestic wings and took to the azure sky.