Revealing the Truth (2)

Shock.

Aria's claim was shock itself. Dismay that the Duke of Reinhardt — a man so aloof, so dignified — had abandoned his own child. Astonishment that even the man they had all cursed with a single voice had, in truth, his reasons. The cadets around her, even now struck speechless or sunk into their seats, were proof enough of that.

"Th-then... everything he said was true...?!"

"D-Duke Reinhardt... he'd never... that's a lie... hck...!"

Some there tried their best to deny the scene unfolding right before their eyes, but knowing how utterly meticulous Aria was, there was no chance she would have brought only a single witness.

"Um... er... as for what he was like..."

"Take your time, Senior Caerlin."

"He was... gruff, I suppose, but... he didn't seem like nearly as bad a person as the rumors made him out to be."

Caerlin. The woman who had hunted intermediate-rank demonic beasts at Jenison's side. Timid and delicate by nature, she looked like someone who lacked the nerve to tell a lie even if her life had depended on it.

"...He was the complete opposite of the rumors. There were moments I wanted to erase the past me — the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me who judged him on nothing but idle gossip."

"Th-that's..."

"The man I saw, at the very least, showed no taste for tormenting people on a whim."

Brihen. Like Caerlin, a man who had fought beside him to subdue intermediate-rank demonic beasts. A noble, yet without a trace of arrogance — a big, warm-hearted man of blunt honesty. Perhaps because of that, he had no shortage of friends despite his family's rather modest title.

One witness after another stepped forward to echo them, and in the end the crowd had no choice but to concede — that the scene they had witnessed with their own eyes was the truth.

"B-but...!"

Someone opened their mouth. Someone who still could not bring themselves to accept the truth in front of them.

"But... if that's how it really was, then you can't blame us for getting it wrong, can you...?!"

"...."

"R-right... now that I think about it, there was no way we could have known."

"Y-yeah. This isn't on us."

The mood flipped. The guilt that had been oozing up only moments before vanished in an instant, leaving not so much as a trace behind.

But Aria had seen that coming, too.

'...I never expected people like this to feel guilty over something like this in the first place.'

And then — from somewhere, once again — came the sound of murmuring.

"Hey... but if this is real... House Reinhardt's... honor... reputation..."

"...Should I... tell my father... or...?"

Two cadets off in the distance, ear pressed to mouth, whispering loud enough for anyone to overhear. And theirs were not the only voices.

A man rubbing his chin, lost in grave thought. A woman holding a fan to her lips as she beckoned her attendant close and gave some quiet order. Students abruptly producing magical communication devices and reaching out to who-knows-where. And more besides.

"...Excuse me, could I record this scene—"

"You there — run to your lord father this instant and tell him exactly what happened—"

"Yes, it is most likely true. Now, a discussion on where best to make use of this—"

With a member of House Reinhardt standing right in front of them, not one of them showed even a token effort to hide what they were doing. It seemed everyone was scrambling to pass the news on to someone — anyone at all.

After all, this was nothing short of information capable of scarring the honor of the Ducal House of Reinhardt — and, by extension, of all Four Great Families — the kind of intelligence that would fetch a steep price from anyone absent from this courtyard.

And this, too, was exactly what she wanted.

Anyone else watching might have asked why on earth she would want to wound her own family — but the Aria of this moment did not care one bit.

She simply could not bear the sight of a house built upon honor that her brother had paid for with his own sacrifice. And she hoped — she prayed — that the father she had once looked up to would repent his wrongs, even a little.

'...I want to stand tall. In front of my brother, and before the whole world.'

A pair of eyes had been watching Aria from close by as she turned these thoughts over. A woman whose pink hair swayed as she toyed with the dagger at her thigh — one of those who had hunted monsters at Jenison's side, and, like the girl before her, a daughter of one of the Four Great Families: House Charlotte.

Shino Charlotte.

Having taken her time watching Aria, it took her only a heartbeat to lick her lips and draw out her communicator.

"Hello? Um, Daddy? I think I've just heard something reeeally interesting..."

Her face was in full bloom with a grin that said she could hardly contain how much fun this was.

"You there! What do you think you're doing!"

"Class is beginning! Inside, all of you — get to your classrooms and prepare for your lessons, quickly now!"

By the time the Academy's professors, sensing that the atmosphere had turned dangerous, came out to disperse the crowd, it was already far too late. Nearly every cadet present had already reported the affair to their families — and the story was already spreading in secret across the Empire.

"Young Master, why did we stop here, though?"

"...There are things I need to buy."

"Oh! Then shall I run in and get them for you?"

Faced with Ella practically vibrating at the thought — just give me any errand, anything at all — I snorted a quiet laugh, fished out a sheet of paper and a pen, and began writing out the list of things I needed, item by item.

"Huh...? Young Master, what are you planning to do with all of this...?"

"...Call it insurance. None of it hurts to have on hand."

"Oh... yes, sir! Understood! I'll be back before you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠know it!"

With that, Ella bounded out of the carriage in high spirits, and I settled back inside as it stood waiting quietly for her, closed my eyes, and let myself sink into the comfortable cushioning at my back.

"Um, siiir...? Ah — he's asleep."

"...."

"Hmm... a short nap shouldn't hurt. Whew... hurry, hurry...!"

At last even the coachman ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vanished toward the privy, and before long the only sound left in the air was the soft, shallow breathing of Jenison, fast asleep.

Tap—

Tap-tap—

Rustle, rustle.

That is, if you didn't count the faint sound of his bag stirring, little by little.

What was the world, to her?

Darkness. Nothing else.

Her eyes would never open. Her body sat frozen, curled up small, and the flow of time was beyond all guessing. She did not know why she was like this. She did not know why she was here.

A voice that echoed through her skull without end. A voice that seemed branded into her very flesh. In her memory — scooped hollow — that voice was the only thing left, and now it echoed yet again.

What could her sin be? What could her shed skin be? How was she to wash away something she could not even remember?

When the voice had sounded at her ear for exactly the 18,023,037th time, despair and hope took root in her frozen body and mind at the very same moment.

They're never letting me out. I'm sure of it.

No — just a little longer, and they'll pull me out.

Both of those thoughts existed in her head at once.

The voice rang out again. That voice, commanding her to wash away every sin and every shed skin.

The voice echoed once more — and just as the count reached its 39,431,249th repetition, something began to seep into her closed eyes. A very small light.

'...Huh?'

"...Huh?"

It was the first time — the first time her mouth had moved exactly as she willed it.

This, too, was a first: eyes snapping open, her body moving on pure instinct. Her flesh raced toward the light — toward that tiny, tiny light.

Up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠close, it was less a blinding white than a calm, quiet silver, but she paid it no mind. It was the first color she had ever seen, so what shade it was hardly mattered. At the very least, it was not black.

The instant her hand met the light, the darkness surrounding her began to lift — the way a window shatters. Splintering, fragmenting, slowly breaking apart. And colors began to appear before her. Beautiful, harmonious, vivid colors started piecing themselves together all around her, bit by bit.

Buildings embroidered along the streets. Lively sounds drifting in from somewhere. The singing of a breeze that stirred now and then. Things she never could have felt, or seen, or heard in the darkness swarmed about her on every side.

"...."

"...."

And yet none of these were what seized the gaze of one who had lived nearly her whole life inside the dark.

It was the human before her — eyes closed, cocooned tight in darkness, exactly as her old self once had been. Black — just as she had been.

"...Sir!"

"...."

"Sir...!"

"...?"

"Ah — you're awake?"

At the sound of someone calling me, I pried my eyelids open by force — only to find the coachman from earlier standing before me.

"I'm truly sorry for waking you while you were sleeping, but... a certain someone asked me to deliver this to you right away."

"...?"

"Young Master!!"

For a moment I could only blink at the envelope that had landed in my hands — then the carriage door burst open and Ella rushed in, breathless with urgency, her arms still full of everything I'd sent her to buy.

"...Ella, what's got you in such a state—"

"Young Master, look at this!!"

"...Ha. What did you drag home this time?"

What she hastily pressed into my hands was none other than a single sheet of paper — one covered in tiny print, with a photograph pasted beside it.

"...What is this?"

"I... I'm not really..."

The sheet I had accepted without a second thought was covered in sentences that made me doubt my own eyes — and the largest among them, read aloud, went as follows:

"Th-this is... about you, Young Master... isn't it? It is, right?!"

"...."

I have no idea. What the hell is this.