Unbroken Shackles (3)
"If you wished to leave House Coutelli so badly, why didn't you just say so? I would have gladly sent you on your way myself."
Count Coutelli's voice was a low, crushing weight as he looked down upon the three knights who had failed their mission. To be sent on one's way by the count meant only one thing: silent, permanent disposal. Paralyzed with terror, one of the three men prostrating on the stone floor cracked under the pressure.
"F-Forgive me, my lord... We are so deeply sorry..."
"Sorry? Ha. I seem to be hearing that word quite often these days. But tell me, do you know what that means to me?"
"M-My lord...? Guh!"
The count drove the heavy heel of his boot into the knight's jaw, cutting off his plea in a spray of blood, and continued calmly.
"'Sorry' is the word I loathe most in this world. After all, it is nothing more than an admission that you failed to carry out my orders."
The remaining two knights took the hint and held their tongues, their trembling foreheads pressed flat against the floorboards. Their fates still rested entirely in the count's ruthless hands. Desperate to claw his way out of the jaws of death, another knight scrambled to speak.
"I—I know how we can bring Lady Sylvia back, my lord!"
"A way?"
"Yes! The commoner girl we took in her stead... it seems she is Lady Sylvia's dearest friend...!"
In short, he was proposing they use Henna as a hostage.
"How is your friend doing?"
"Well... the doctor said it's Stage One Mana Exhaustion."
"Phew. What a relief."
Losing consciousness was a textbook symptom of Stage One Mana Exhaustion, and she hadn't suffered any internal or external injuries. With enough rest, she would wake up before long. But right now, that wasn't the real problem.
"Here. I bought some drinks so we could wet our whistles while we wait."
"Thanks."
"Still, what on earth could have happened for Senior Sylvia to be chased down by knights from her own family...?"
Leaving Renias to her murmuring, I searched my memories, trying to recall what had occurred around this time in the previous timeline.
...I'm sure of it. Back then, it was already too late.
I remembered a day when Senia had suddenly screamed that we needed to go somewhere, offering no explanation. None of the team, myself included, had understood what was happening at the time. All we could do was saddle our horses and race after her. The entire roster of Team Tembris had been bewildered, but when we finally caught up with Senia and reached the Coutelli Estate, the tragedy had already played out.
If that incident had been connected to Sylvia all along... then there was no way I could simply look the other way.
Still, I couldn't be entirely certain yet. Unlike my past life, the academy festival had unfolded without a hitch, and my own actions had shifted the entire timeline forward. If I jumped to conclusions and misread the situation, that would create a disaster of its own.
Rattle.
The sound of the infirmary door sliding open drew our attention, and Renias carefully stepped inside to check on Sylvia's progress.
"W-Wait! Where do you think you're going in that state?"
"What's going on?"
"Senior Junon..."
Renias called out to me, her voice laced with flustered disbelief. Once I stepped through the doorway and saw the scene for myself, I understood her reaction immediately.
"...Sylvia. Don't tell me you're planning to move around like that."
Sylvia had already finished changing back into her civilian clothes.
Mana exhaustion was the body's inevitable revolt after pushing its magical reserves past their limits, which was why absolute bed rest was mandatory when symptoms manifested. Yet despite having succumbed to it only a short while ago, she had changed her clothes and was actively trying to slip out of the infirmary. It was only natural that Renias stood blocking her path.
"It's the festival, after all. It feels like a waste to just lie here."
"..."
"..."
The festival? Did she really expect us to swallow that excuse? What was with that strained smile tugging at the corners of her lips, acting as if nothing had happened? One thing was certain: the girl wearing that expression wasn't the Sylvia I had come to know.
Looking at that painfully awkward, forced grin, I realized that she had retreated back into being a hollow mannequin. And somehow, Renias seemed to have picked up on the incongruity as well.
"Senior Sylvia. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but it's painfully obvious you're forcing that smile to brush this off."
"Forcing it? I'm not—"
"You'd be far better off just telling us what happened and asking for help. Your mana circulation is still erratic, so you must be dealing with muscle spasms and dizziness. What kind of festival could you possibly enjoy in that condition?"
Cornered by Renias's sharp, relentless prodding, Sylvia cast a desperate glance in my direction, wordlessly pleading for rescue.
I'm sorry, Sylvia, but I have no intention of bailing you out.
The cold, unfeeling Sylvia who couldn't even manage her own expressions had been nothing more than a puppet and a plaything for House Coutelli. When I told you I never wanted to see you like that again, I meant every word.
So why are you slipping right back into that mold?
"Just be honest with me. Sylvia, what are you so afraid of?"
"Junon... why are you doing this too? If you keep pushing, I'll have to call the hospital staff."
The hospital staff. Right. If she made a formal request at the front desk, we, as outside visitors, would have no legal right to intervene. That would be the worst possible path this situation could take.
Even so, the solution was straightforward enough. I could counter by threatening to summon Lady Ophelia.
As the student council president, head of the disciplinary committee, and daughter of the Grand Duke who ruled our sovereign nation, Ophelia was the ideal person to resolve this mess. She had the authority to stop Sylvia from recklessly walking out of the clinic under the pretense of enjoying the festival, the willingness to listen to an individual student's plight, and the royal standing to extend a merciful hand of protection to one of her subjects. If I simply relayed what I had learned back during the end-of-term evaluations, handling the matter would be easier still.
Yet Sylvia was clearly concealing something vital—enough to force her exhausted body to spin clumsy lies just to rush somewhere else. The moment I contacted Lady Ophelia, the immense pressure on Sylvia would only multiply, and the last thing I wanted was to make her feel further cornered. Driven to her psychological limits, there was no telling what she might do behind our backs.
So, instead of pressing her, I reached out, gently took hold of both her trembling shoulders, and spoke in a steady, reassuring voice.
"Sylvia. I don't want to see you go back to that place. Even setting that aside, we're friends. Let me help you. Please?"
"..."
"I'm not trying to get in your way. Remember how many times I told you before? If things get painful, if things get hard, to come and tell me. Am I really so worthless of a friend to you?"
At those words, Sylvia's shoulders flinched violently. And then...
"Then what am I supposed to do...? No matter how much I think about it, this isn't something you can help me with..."
Her voice dissolved into muffled sobs, and once again, tears began to track down her pale cheeks.
Now that I was certain, I could offer her a definitive promise.
"Trust me and tell me everything. I swear on my life, whatever it is you're dreading won't happen."
House Coutelli and Sylvia. The way Senia had charged recklessly toward the Coutelli Estate in my past life. The horrific scene that had greeted Team Tembris upon our arrival.
All of it was connected. There was no other explanation.
What was more, even if the dates had shifted forward, the sequence of events remained unchanged. That unrecognizable thing we had found inside the count's manor had been the final, broken remains of someone who had abandoned all hope in reality. It was then that I intuitively understood why a certain name had vanished into complete obscurity after that day, swallowed by silence.
I would not let the past repeat itself. I would not arrive after the tragedy was already carved in stone.
I couldn't let Sylvia slip out of my sight.
The clearing appeared completely deserted at first glance, but Senia could tell at once that a violent skirmish had taken place.
Tracing the scorched earth and the residual flow of mana, she deduced the clash had been a two-on-two. The assailant who had abducted Henna hadn't unleashed any overt magical discharge, which meant someone else must have intervened midway to turn what had been a two-on-one ambush into an even fight. Judging by the traces of weapon enhancement magic, two of the combatants were clearly knights—most likely from the same household as the man who had seized Henna and fled.
Next, she analyzed the opposing traces. The condensed, whip-like marks of pressurized wind magic left no room for doubt.
In all of Lebrant Academy, only one student fought by forging condensed wind into tangible armaments.
Sylvia Coutelli. Daughter of Count Coutelli.
Still... something doesn't add up.
"Aris. Where is House Coutelli's domain located again?"
"Huh? House Coutelli... their territory is out in eastern Algenib Province."
The direction matched. Tracing the path the mounted knight had taken with Henna pointed straight toward eastern Algenib.
"What else do you know about them?"
"What else...? Well, they're prominent members of the Noble Alliance. Like I mentioned earlier, they despise commoners to an absurd degree. Along with Marquis Flochan's family, they're the absolute worst of the lot when it comes to spearheading the purge against commoners."
If they were so rabidly anti-commoner, this made even less sense. Why would they abduct a third-year female academy student who had no political leverage whatsoever—especially a commoner vanguard like Henna? Henna might be famous throughout the campus for baking extraordinary bread, but high nobles employed pastry chefs whose skills far surpassed hers. Seizing Henna was an inherent contradiction.
"Senia. Wouldn't it be better to just report this to the administration? If we let them know an academy student was kidnapped, Lady Ophelia might step in to help."
"No. Absolutely not. If Henna really is being held as a hostage, the moment word gets out, she'll disappear without a trace."
"I-I see..."
Looking at Sylvia's connection to the knights, the picture became clearer. Henna's only link to the situation was that she had recently become Sylvia's closest friend. But that was merely a superficial motive; it wasn't enough on its own. Why would knights pledged to House Coutelli draw their blades against a noble daughter of their own bloodline?
That was the crucial pivot.
The target the knights had originally intended to kidnap was Sylvia herself. But when an unexpected interloper crashed the ambush and spoiled their plans, they had settled for the next best thing, dragging Henna away to salvage the mission.
That was the hypothesis Senia pieced together.
No matter which angle she looked at it from, this reeked of something far dirtier than a simple abduction. If Henna was truly being held hostage, no one outside of Sylvia and the people directly involved at the scene could be allowed to know.
"For now, don't breathe a word of this to anyone. That goes for the rest of Team Tembris, too. Understand?"
"...Understood."
Having brought Aris around, Senia turned and set off alone into the distance.