Bringing the Truth to Light

Not long after the Pope took his leave, the door of the carriage I was riding in opened once more.

"It's all finished, Young Master."

"...Good work."

Only moments before, she had been outside helping the wounded soldiers along and lending the priests a hand with the cleanup. Now, instead of boarding, Ella stood outside and bowed her head toward me—sensing the eyes of the bystanders on her, she was even using her formal address as she lowered it.

"Young Master, what would you—"

"Pardon me a moment."

Before Ella, her head barely lifted, could finish her sentence, someone interposed. A deep, weighty voice.

"My apologies. I have some rather urgent business."

"N-no, not at all... Sir Luindel."

"Haha, and I thank you for saying so."

He could hardly have been unaware of his own station, yet he offered his apology without a trace of awkwardness—and Ella, flustered and fumbling, apparently never having dreamed he would apologize to her. If anything, the one receiving the apology looked more sorry than the man giving it. It was a thoroughly strange and bizarre scene.

"You are Jenison, I take it?"

"...I am."

Leaving behind Ella—who, with him standing before her, had no idea what to do—he turned his head to me. In a heavy voice, the complete opposite of the one he had used with Ella only moments before.

"I trust you have heard that His Majesty the Emperor wishes to see you."

"...I have."

"Then this will be brief."

With that, he rummaged here and there through his armor and drew an envelope from within his breast—a letter sealed at its mouth with wax stamped by the crest of the imperial family.

"Carry this on your person, and you will be free to enter and leave the imperial palace."

"...You came all this way just to deliver this?"

"I did. Is there some other reason I ought to have?"

"...No, it is only..."

Even so, it was hard to imagine the commander of the Emperor's own knight order stirring for so small an errand. Anyone in their right mind could hardly think otherwise than that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something more lay behind it.

"Ah, my apologies. I've just remembered what I failed to say..."

"...As I thought—"

"For what happened in the Great Forest... I am truly grateful."

To me—who had been waiting for the words to come out of his mouth, thinking as expected, thinking there is something more—he simply spat out a word of thanks. Without so much as a flicker of expression.

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Had the events of the Great Forest not been brought under control, we would have been forced to choose once again."

...

"War—or an unstable peace that could shatter at any moment. One of the two."

...

"By great fortune, you stood in its way. And for that, I am sincerely grateful."

Struck dumb by his utterly unexpected, out-of-nowhere expression of thanks, I could only stand there—and he turned his back just as he had come, walking away from me.

"S-so then... our son... is dead?!"

"...I am truly sorry to say, but yes—"

"Sa... save him! I said save him!!"

"That is quite enough, Duke."

Slowly approaching Duke Gren as he raged on, and with practiced ease quelling the man's outburst—that was the sight before us. Ella, who had been watching that retreating figure, boarded the carriage while glancing warily at the eyes around her.

"Young Master, what will you do now?"

"...?"

"His Majesty the Emperor says he wishes to meet you... shouldn't you go at once?"

Ella stared at me with anxious eyes. But the feeling in them wasn't pure worry—it was the look of someone watching a skittish foal that might bolt in any direction at any moment...

...It must just be my imagination.

"Young Master?"

"It's fine. There's no need to go right away."

"What? Young Master, won't you be in real trouble, putting it off like that?"

To Ella's urgent voice, I answered by waving the envelope instead of words—the imperial-sealed letter I had received mere moments ago.

"Well, I will have to go as soon as I can manage. It is the Emperor's command, after all."

"Th... then, you're saying you won't go right this moment?"

"That's right. There's somewhere I need to stop along the way."

...

"Don't worry so much. It truly is just a brief stop on the way."

Reinhardt. A ducal house—one of the Four Great Families. Scarcely anyone exists who does not know the weight of that name. The house that guards the north, and the house that has produced one illustrious knight after another.

"Wh... what are you saying, Lady Aria...?"

"Don't tell me those rumors are actually all true—"

"That Jenison—that bastard really made a contract with a demon..!"

Jenison. Until only recently, the petty, good-for-nothing wretch who had carried the Reinhardt name on his back. And now, the subject of the hottest rumors at the Academy—and the person who had once been the small older brother of the Lady Aria Reinhardt standing before them.

Perhaps it was only natural. That everyone was hanging on the words about to leave her lips.

"What I wish to speak of... is not about the rumors now spreading through the Academy."

Her single sentence scattered into the air, and the crowd's reactions splintered every which ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠way.

"...Huh? So it wasn't?"

"What, then? Did we come here for nothing?"

Displeased sighs rose from those who had simply assumed, of course, that it would concern the rumors,

"No, wait—what if it's something even more serious than the rumors?"

"...More serious than making a contract with a demon? What could that possibly be?"

And the curiosity of those who wondered what on earth it could be, if it was neither this nor that.

"...Aria Reinhardt. Still a beautiful face, as ever."

"Ah—Lady Aria, if you have the time, why not join us for a cup of tea—"

And those who had stayed for no reason other than their interest in Aria Reinhardt herself. By ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the time the attention and gazes of those three mingled crowds had turned toward Aria once more—

"Everything I am about to tell you and show you, from this moment on, is founded entirely on fact."

She took a single step forward. To leave a footprint vast enough to turn the whole Academy on its head.

The reaction of people who suddenly hear something wholly unexpected is, as a rule, always the same.

"What absurd nonsense is this, Lady Aria?!"

"...Oh my, Lady Aria—surely no one has been threatening you—"

"A great man like Duke Reinhardt would never say such a thing to his own child—"

"I believe you are mistaken about something. That wretch has been like that from the very beginning—"

First, they deny the claim. Paying no mind to whether it is a lie—or a truth they simply cannot bring themselves to believe.

"No—then are you saying that everything he has done until now was all because of orders?"

"Lady Aria, family or no, might you not have chosen the wrong person to take sides with—"

"Even if it were true, nothing that wretch has done could ever be justified by some order or other—"

And then they condemn the ones who voiced those thoughts. Calling it nonsense. Denying it with every fiber of their being. Not even attempting to listen.

"I asked him directly. What was the reason he changed so suddenly."

"Changed? What do you—?"

"Why he had suddenly become someone who wounds people. Why he had suddenly taken to draping himself in luxury and indulgence."

"Ha—that one was always a filthy wretch who dragged women into my chamber by the handful—"

"Did you see that with your own eyes?"

Her sharp gaze, which had been mid-sentence, came to rest on a single student.

"That you saw him bring a woman to his chamber. That you saw him take her there and lie with her. That you saw him cast her out afterward without shouldering the slightest responsibility—that is what I am asking."

"N-no, there were rumors..."

"How eloquent, from people who don't even know where those rumors were born."

Aria's gaze, which had been fixed on him, swept once around the crowd—and from the staff in her hand, a blue magic circle began to unfold.

"Please watch this."

"Wh... what?!"

"G... good heavens..."

The instant the blue magic circle finished unfolding from her staff, blue light burst forth. And that light conjured a single scene in the empty air. The scene of that moment—when she had stood face to face with Duke Reinhardt.

"Du... Duke Reinhardt?"

"And Lady Aria is in it too?"

"Is this... record magic? No... a magic tool, perhaps?"

She did not stop there. Perhaps showing alone was not enough—even the sound came through, vivid and clear.

And then that conversation rang out, immense and vivid. Loud enough for every student gathered in this place to hear.

"...What did I just hear?"

"It... it really was true?"

"...Ha, what a pack of fools. One look is enough—this is obviously fabricated information..!"

"Senior Lianna."

And yet there were still those who could not believe. The name of duke was far too heavy a thing to accept on the strength of this alone—and Jenison's infamy stood far too tall.

And so she called out once more. The name of the ally who would stand with her. To give these people certainty.

The voice flowing from the magic circle belonged to the girl who, alone among everyone at the Academy, had been singled out and tormented by Jenison—the one who could truly be called his greatest victim.

And now, at last, she found her courage and spoke. The words she had never been able to say before. The words she had only ever swallowed down inside came pouring out—what had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been done to her, what he had proposed to her and why she had accepted, and everything that had passed since. She told it all, without leaving out a single thing.

Aria's final words. That single sentence echoed out—over the crowd, which at some point had fallen utterly silent.