The Great Forest Inspection Delegation
And so, with complete disregard for my own opinion, my journey to the Great Forest was settled. I was in the middle of packing for the trip when a new visitor came to my door.
A knock sounded at my dormitory room. I tried to ignore it at first, but the knocking kept ringing out, stubbornly refusing to give up. Worn down by the noise at last, I opened the door — and there stood a woman I had never seen before.
She was a maid dressed much like Ella, with long black hair spilling down her back. And behind her stood a man who, at a single glance, could only be the young master of some wealthy house.
Green-haired and smooth-mannered — handsome enough to be called a fine gentleman — he stepped toward me, while the maid who had been knocking slipped to his side without my noticing, hands folded in deference.
"You're the one who captured the elf princess's heart, I hear? Jenison, is it?"
"No."
At the sheer absurdity of the man's opening line, I moved to shut the door.
"Please, wait just a moment."
Before I knew it, the maid had slipped her hand into the doorframe and stopped it.
I put more weight into it, determined to close it anyway —
"If we've rubbed you the wrong way, then I apologize. My apologies."
"...No."
But when a man apologized so openly to my face, I could hardly ignore him and slam the door in it. He flashed an embarrassed little smile and stroked his chin.
"Well, no need to drag out the introductions. I am Robette, head of this Great Forest inspection."
"...."
"For the record, I'm not one of the Four Great Families... but I am the eldest son of Duke Blen."
"...Is that so."
"A pleasure."
With that, he extended his hand in one smooth motion, and reluctant as I was, I had no choice but to take it. He might not be one of the Four Great Families, but a ducal house was not something to be treated lightly.
"...My name is Jenison."
"Haha. And yet a moment ago, it was 'no,' was it?"
"...."
"No matter. I only came here to pay a courtesy call."
"A courtesy... call?"
Still smiling, the bastard tightened his grip on my hand — just enough that a frail man would have let a small groan slip.
"That's right. A courtesy call."
"..."
"I don't know why a being like the Elf Queen would put your name forward, but..."
"..."
"...we are in no position to want any sort of trouble in the Great Forest."
"...I... see."
"And you, from where we stand, happen to be quite the unforeseen variable."
"...."
"As you know, your track record has been rather... colorful, shall we say..."
As he spoke, Robette clamped down on my hand once more. This time, unmistakably, it was the kind of grip that would have made anyone cry out and tear themselves free.
For all the smile still fixed on his face, the crushing force was downright vicious — and yet when I didn't so much as whimper, he seemed to take it as a personal affront and kept trying harder.
The pressure kept mounting, and on top of it I could feel him drawing up his mana as well. But no matter how hard boys his age strained themselves, they were not going to wring a scream out of me.
How long had we been standing there, hand in hand? At last the bastard seemed to grasp something; he withdrew his hand and shook his own out a few times.
"Ahem... well. I trust you understand my meaning by now."
"...In other words: you'll grudgingly bring me along, but I'm to keep my head down and quietly make myself small. Is that it?"
"Hm, I wouldn't have put it quite that way... but yes, that's about the shape of it."
"I'll bear it firmly in mind..."
"...You follow along faster than the rumors gave you credit for. My thanks for hearing me out."
Wearing a look of mild surprise, Robette turned away as though the message had been delivered — then opened his mouth again.
"Ah, and once the inspection preparations are fully wrapped up, I'll send her to let you know."
"...?"
"The one there, standing before you. Her name is Arno."
"I look forward to working with you."
The person he indicated was the maid, still standing expressionless at his side. And with that, the two of them strolled off down the corridor at their leisure, while I — left alone — slammed the dormitory door hard enough to make the frame rattle.
After all, so long as I could get my hands on a Spirit Stone, I had planned to stay holed up in my room for the entire inspection. I passed the hours slowly, telling myself that this time there would be no reason for me to step forward — and it was not long before the maid I had met earlier was knocking at my door again.
"Please act always with the welfare of the Empire and the Great Forest in mind. I trust you, Robette Blen."
"Of course. I will not sully my family's honor."
Only after a send-off ceremony of no small scale had run its course were we finally able to set out for the Great Forest.
Countless flower petals rained down over Robette. A carriage far too lavish for anything so modest as a forest inspection. Silver-armored knights fanned out around it as though on escort duty. I caught myself wondering whether an inspection — of all things — truly warranted this kind of expenditure, but I quickly swallowed the question. There was no sense dwelling on it.
And besides that, I had worries enough of my own. For instance...
"Young master, are you feeling unwell?"
"...No. I'm fine."
Like Ella, standing before me with her hands folded neatly together. She seemed to have grown tired of forever waiting behind me, because this time she had declared she was coming along, clutching my hand — and I hadn't been able to shake her off. Nothing seemed likely to happen in the Great Forest, and no one was going to raise a fuss over a single attendant.
So I had allowed it — though now that the moment was actually upon us, I found myself wondering whether I'd made the right call. Because something really could happen, however slim the chance.
But as if to prove my fears groundless, the carriage bound for the Great Forest rolled along in comfort without a single stop. Ella did come down with motion sickness partway there, but beyond that, truly, nothing happened at all.
We rode on and on, and before I knew it we had reached the outskirts of the Great Forest's border. From that point the carriages could advance no further, and we were forced to continue on foot — the stated reason being that their wheels would trample the grass and the branches.
I did hear someone grumbling about it along the way, but there was nothing to be done. We were the guests, and the Great Forest belonged to them.
We disembarked and walked for a good while longer, until signs of life stirred — and with them, elves appeared in our path. Among them was her, the one who, not so long ago, had left an impression I could not forget.
"A blessing of the Great Forest upon you all. I am Sylvia, entrusted with your guidance — and as you are no doubt aware, the princess of the elves."
"Haha, well met! I am Robette, representative of the Empire."
The one stepping toward her — toward that still-expressionless, coldly honed presence — was none other than Robette. Grinning to the hilt, his oiliest smile in place, he extended his hand for a shake, but she did not return the greeting. She merely kept glancing around.
"Haha, now my hand feels rather foolish—"
"Where is he?"
"...Pardon?"
It would surely become, for Robette, a first impression he would never forget.
Robette, eldest son of the Ducal House of Blen, was, at this very moment, in a spectacularly foul mood.
When he had first been chosen as the Empire's representative, his mood had been excellent. So what if the Four Great Families had all declined to step forward, leaving the post to fall into his lap by default? A post was a post. He was the Empire's representative.
True, an uninvited guest had been tacked onto his party — but he could stomach that. The wretch had no family, no name, nothing left to him anyway. If anything, Robette looked down on the man in the privacy of his own heart.
Even though he, a duke's own son, had been made to climb down from his carriage and walk on his own two feet through a forest crawling with insects, he could still endure it. Sweet honor would be waiting to receive him when he returned to the Empire.
Right around when even the walking had begun to wear on him, beauties of nation-toppling allure came out to greet the delegation. Watching the elves descend toward them, long luxurious hair swaying, he caught himself swallowing — drool pooling in his mouth before he even noticed.
And among them, one woman stood out above all the rest: the princess who had visited the Academy not long ago.
When he had first heard of her beauty through rumor alone, he had assumed the stories must surely be exaggerated. But the rumors fell short of the truth. Hers was a face that made lust rise of its own accord at a single glance.
Her modest breasts stirred a hunger to possess; her cold, distant air, a craving to conquer. Her graceful figure awakened the artist's soul in him, and her hands — slender as carved jade — only added to her beauty.
But whether she had sensed him imagining their union in the theater of his own head, every ounce of effort he poured into a good first impression came back to him as nothing but her cutting demeanor.
She ignored his proffered handshake as though it were of no interest whatsoever, radiating a proud, untouchable air.
And as if that were not enough, Sylvia cut off his next words outright, scanning the surroundings as though searching for someone else entirely.
Perhaps the knights behind him found her manner unbearably insolent, for they flinched — and he himself was none too pleased either. Never once in his life had he suffered such an insult.
But he could not let it show. At the very most generous count, he was 'merely' a ducal house. She was, by the Empire's reckoning, royalty — and before royalty, a ducal house had no strength to flex.
Robette, who understood this truth better than anyone, swallowed the slight without a flicker and smoothly picked the conversation back up. Besides — that haughty bearing of hers suited his tastes rather well.
"Haha... my, what a remarkably blunt lady you are. Have no fear — the one you requested is doing very well..."
Once more he approached her, taking pains to keep his voice honey-smooth and pleasant to the ear —
"I asked where he is."
"...."
Unfortunately for him, Sylvia was no ordinary woman. Still coldly disregarding him, still searching for someone.
At the sight, Robette's features crumpled yet again — but once more he forced his fury down, repeating to himself, yet again, that he had come as the Empire's representative.
Refusing to concede, he lifted his smile and started toward her once more — but she, as though she had at last found what she was looking for, struck out straight in a single direction.
"I'm glad you arrived safely, Jenison."
"...Lady Sylvia?"
It was only when he came back to himself that he realized bitter blood was trickling from his lips. The inferiority complex welling up inside him, he never noticed at all.