15. Finance Director Fan Club (Not Really)
15. Finance Director Fan Club (Not Really)
The academy's charity ball—held in commemoration of the recent terrorist attack, if you could call it that—was proceeding smoothly in its preparations.
To be precise, the academy had announced that the canceled final exams would expand to cover the restoration effort, meaning students who didn't pitch in wouldn't receive credit. A few did object.
"So you're just not going to do it?"
"B-but this isn't even an exam."
"The Chairwoman herself bowed her head and asked us a few days ago. She's even offering scholarships."
"It's not fair."
"Sure, maybe not. Fine, don't do it. I'm going to, so I'll take the credit."
".........Ngh."
It was only a few hours of work, and it wasn't backbreaking labor. The students' role was essentially assisting the faculty and staff.
Rumors even spread that students who volunteered for longer hours had their time calculated by the academy and received additional scholarship money on top of the credit—which, from the students' perspective, was a sweet gig that paid both in grades and coin.
And aside from the administration-track students, the work wasn't particularly difficult for the martial-arts or magic-track students either. Under the faculty's direction, a great many students joined the rebuilding efforts.
It was an administrative move that could have sparked all sorts of complaints, but—
"The academy was attacked by terrorists. The least we can do is help."
"......Yeah, I guess you're right."
"The busiest people right now are the Chairwoman and the staff, aren't they?"
"Can't be helped."
The unprecedented circumstances of an academy terrorist attack buried a lot of the grumbling.
Even the dissatisfied students kept their mouths shut, at least for the time being. In this atmosphere, raising your voice just earned you looks that said, What's their problem?
Moreover, the residential dormitories were located near the outer district where the attack had taken place. So many students had witnessed the collapsed buildings and destroyed paths firsthand that it didn't take long for public opinion to coalesce around helping.
......Truth be told, plenty of students signed up for the pocket money, but outwardly everyone was spouting things like "Of course we should help" and "This is our academy."
The Carpenters' Guild, which normally handled all of the academy's building repairs, dispatched only a minimal number of specialists this time around to advise on the reconstruction. An added bonus: the administration-track carpentry majors got some excellent hands-on experience.
The one fact known only to a certain Finance Director, however, was that even with the scholarship payouts, the whole arrangement was still cheaper than formally hiring the Carpenters' Guild.
A week passed in this manner.
And so, at the charity ball where the royal family's First Prince, the great nobles, the kingdom's aristocracy, and even envoys from the Empire and the neighboring Delphia Kingdom had all assembled—
"This is nice."
"......Should we really be doing this?"
"Of course."
I was taking it easy.
Without participating in the ball at all.
"But, Finance Director, you really should attend......."
"Why would I? Showing up would only cause more problems."
"What?"
"Within the academy, I'm the Finance Director, a high-ranking official. But in the eyes of today's distinguished guests, I'm something else entirely."
Nobles and parents had gathered from all across the kingdom. As a bonus, the First Prince—currently leading the race for succession—the few great nobles the kingdom possessed, and even envoys from the Empire and the Delphia Kingdom had all shown up.
Me stepping forward at a gathering of such super-elite guests? That in itself would be a problem.
"I'm no aristocrat, and I'm a mere 1st Rank."
".........That is."
"My being at every function was strange to begin with."
Just like the entrance ceremony. Even then, I'd been nothing more than an aide to the Chairwoman. Hell, the only reason I'd even stood beside her was to immediately discuss investing in illusion-magic research—not because my own standing was high or anything of the sort.
You might ask, isn't this ball about the donations? From the Chairwoman's and my perspective, the donations are the top priority. But from the perspective of the guests, who still believe the Chairwoman to be the wealthiest person in the kingdom, the top priority is meeting the Chairwoman and forging a connection while they have the chance.
More to the point, even setting that aside, my status and Rank are the real issue. If I were a lowborn commoner but high-Rank, like Ciel the Chief Examination Officer at 7th Rank, that would be one thing. But a commoner 1st Rank is a rank generally treated with scorn.
In a world where the Rank system codifies very real differences in physical power, that goes double. To speak plainly, unless an organization is run by fanatics like the Wish Order, its leader usually has to be physically stronger than the rank-and-file to prevent rebellion or a coup.
In my case, I'm fine because I'm always accompanied by the Chairwoman, an existence that transcends any such concerns. And administrative work is somewhat less subject to those standards, but even so, every other department head besides me is at least 4th Rank.
So even if I wanted to attend this ball, my mere presence would be a complication. Hell, if I stepped up and started talking, there'd be plenty of bastards feeling resentment or outright disgust.
Work's always about having the right person in the right place.
Anyway, I'd already told the Chairwoman exactly how to move, and I'd attached the Head of Academic Affairs as her aide.
That old gentleman, you see, is from a great noble house himself, has a fair number of years under his belt, and is 4th Rank—he's perfect for the aide role. He's also a fanatical devotee of the Chairwoman, so he'll back her up well without ever being disregarded.
The Food Supplies Management Head and the Student Affairs Department Head are in charge of rebuilding the outer buildings. The Planning Department Head won't be stepping into the spotlight, but he's from a noble family, so he's managing the ball. The Chief Examination Officer and the First Guard Unit Captain are on patrol and security. And the Medical Department Head—that lunatic—is helping best by keeping the hell still.
Everyone's working at their own posts. So what about me?
Everything I've done up until now has been work.
"So let's take it easy. It's actually hard to get any rest without an opportunity like this."
"......Is that so."
"Student Milia, you should wrap that up and head out. I know you think things run more smoothly when I'm not here, but still—I'm going to get some rest here."
".........Tch."
Milia's ongoing campaign to chase me out of the office had failed once again.
As Milia gave up and processed documents with dead eyes, I lay down on a camp bed arranged in one corner of the office.
I could have gone right into the break room and properly slept, but I had to keep an eye on Milia and make sure she was working.
It's only for a little while, but let's get some proper rest.
Guests of that caliber can't linger at the academy for long anyway. It's not a matter of preparation or budget—they simply have too much to do back home. If anything, the First Prince and the great nobles even showing up here is the truly surprising part. Because of the Chairwoman's show of force? The fallout was pretty catastrophic, to be fair.
Anyway, tonight's ball will run all night, and by tomorrow, most of them—save for a handful—will likely head back. That's when the real work starts again. I'll have to total up the donations and agonize over how best to use them.
So I'll rest now, while I can. I've got to rest so I can work again tomorrow.
That was what I'd been thinking.
"Um...... Adam? Ah, people are here."
"......Laura? What's up?"
"Er, Finance Director. That female student over there?"
"Student Milia. She's helping out in the Finance Department because of her tuition situation. So you can speak comfortably, like when it's just the two of us."
"Ah, okay."
Laura had walked in wearing a distinctly bewildered expression, startled for a moment upon spotting Milia.
She quickly moved past Milia—who was keeping her mouth firmly shut and doing her work with an attentive eye—and approached me with an ambiguous look on her face, like she wasn't sure this was quite right.
What. What is it.
"Let me ask first: I was just about to lie down and rest. Is this the kind of thing I have to get up for?"
"Yeah."
"Damn it."
What on earth was it? Had someone destroyed another building? But I hadn't heard any explosions.
I looked up at Laura with a quizzical face, wondering what could possibly warrant seeking me out.
Laura answered, her voice sounding deeply conflicted.
"There are people looking for you."
"Looking for me? Is it the Chairwoman? Or the Head of Academic Affairs?"
"Ah, no. I'd almost feel relieved if it were."
I'd briefly wondered if the Chairwoman had forgotten some of what I'd told her, or if the Head of Academic Affairs had something separate to discuss—but Laura shook her head.
More than that...... She'd feel relieved if it were?
"Three people are looking for you."
"Three? Who?"
"......The Lord of the Empire's Magic Tower. The Margrave. And the Crown Prince of the Delphia Kingdom."
".........What?"
"All three of them are waiting for you, Adam."
Oh, fuck.
Why, exactly?
*
'Attire...... no issues. I've practically memorized all the names and family crests. All right!'
Risha Claudia was intensely nervous. Any midterm or final exam was a trivial matter compared to this.
A ball where great nobles, lesser aristocrats, royalty, and even distinguished foreign guests all gathered.
She had always assumed she would debut at such an event someday as the young lady of the Claudia family, but she'd never imagined she'd be doing so while still an academy student.
'For this many people to gather at a charity ball......'
Charity balls themselves were events Risha had attended often since childhood. The Claudia family was a margrave household, bordering the Delphia Kingdom and the sea, meaning small-scale battles were practically an annual occurrence.
Monsters crawled up from the ocean, naturally, and more spilled out of the Delphia Forest, which bordered their lands at the same time as the kingdom. Damage to villages and towns was frequent enough that charity balls to assist them were held from time to time.
You could ask why anyone would bother hosting a ball just to help a town, but a ball provided a legal and socially appropriate pretext for high-ranking figures to gather, and it served as a convenient occasion for all manner of negotiations. If the situation were truly urgent, they'd send support directly without any ball at all, but for localized damage, discussing matters through a ball was the custom.
Still, even when the great noble house of Count Claudia hosted a ball, only the nobles of the territories neighboring the Margrave's domain would gather. The same was probably true for the other great noble houses as well.
And yet, looking at the attendees now—
"Over there is......."
"The Viscounty of Marcel from the south. The only house to declare neutrality in the power struggle between the two neighboring great noble families. It's quite prominent, and famous for never attending banquets hosted by either side. An exception has been made here, it seems."
"That person."
"A margrave house of the Empire. It's not a family that borders our kingdom, but the margrave himself is said to be an alumnus of Grandis Academy. Above all, it's the only one of the Empire's margrave houses that does not possess an 8th Rank, so they appear keen to emphasize their connection to the Chairwoman."
"......Even His Highness the First Prince."
"He must have been concerned about leaving the royal palace empty with the Second Prince, his rival, still there. It's a bold move. The royal family likely decided to make a strong showing, since the Chairwoman is their greatest concern."
Whenever Risha, who hadn't yet memorized every house, discreetly asked, the servant following close behind answered rapidly.
Looking around, every face in the crowd belonged to some renowned house. All of them were families of considerable power, political influence, or elevated prestige.
And every last one of them had come—not to some grand state function, but merely to an academy, for a charity ball held in the wake of a terrorist attack.
At that fact, an involuntary shiver ran through Risha.
'If I can build connections here, it could be a tremendous help to the Claudia family.'
Normally, that role would be filled by her older siblings who'd already made their debut in society. But at this moment, Risha's status as an academy student gave her the clearest standing.
However, Risha's tension wasn't due merely to the gathering of so many great figures.
Step. Step.
Footsteps approached. Footsteps were common enough in a ballroom packed with people. But Risha knew instantly.
A peculiar gait, its steps spaced at precisely 1.3-second intervals. Every third step, a deliberate two-second pause, and the angle of the foot turned slightly askew.
She knew all too well whose strange footfalls those were.
Leaving behind the servant who hadn't heard a thing, Risha quietly inclined her head toward the empty air.
"You've arrived, Father."
"I have."
It had been empty air—and in the next instant, a person stood there.
An old man with gray hair swept back and a white beard. Yet his posture was ramrod-straight, and his forearms and calves looked so solid you'd wonder if this were some kind of disguise.
He'd walked through a ballroom full of people without the slightest difficulty, and not a single soul—the servant included—had noticed his presence before he stood before Risha.
The head of Count Claudia's house, a great noble of the kingdom and an 8th Rank being. Commonly known as the Margrave.
Gregory Claudia.
A vigorous elder well past the age of one hundred, he regarded his youngest daughter with keen eyes.
"You haven't neglected your training. I'm proud of you."
"Th-thank you!"
"You know well how important this occasion is. Risha, I am entrusting this place to you."
"Father......?"
The swell of emotion at realizing her esteemed father had acknowledged her efforts was brief.
At the words that followed—which almost sounded irresponsible—Risha's face went pale and she lifted her head.
"Don't fret. I've brought the head butler and several retainers. They'll instruct you on what to do. Raise the name of Risha Claudia high on this stage."
"Y-yes, Father! But, if I may be so bold......?"
Gregory's trust had steeled her resolve, but her curiosity remained. The Margrave of the kingdom, an 8th Rank whose very presence lent strength to the Claudia name—yet his words had sounded as though he needed to go somewhere else.
Count Claudia's domain and Grandis Academy were practically on opposite sides of the kingdom. He couldn't possibly mean he'd come all this way only to turn back home. Something else required his attention.
She knew the question was presumptuous, but Risha asked anyway. It was only possible because she was the cherished youngest daughter—practically a granddaughter, given how late in life she'd come.
At the question, Gregory briefly wore a resolute look.
......Resolute?
"I intend to go see an old comrade for a moment.........and at the same time, my brother-in-law."
"M-my apologies! I had no idea it concerned your own affairs, Father."
An old comrade. At those words, Risha realized her blunder. Anyone who knew anything knew the story: long ago, before Grandis Academy had even been founded, Gregory and the Chairwoman had traveled together.
She thought she'd very faintly caught the word "brother-in-law" at the end, but surely she'd misheard. The hall was still filled with countless distinguished guests in conversation.
Nevertheless, to have forgotten that and asked about it needlessly—for a moment, an "I've messed up" expression flickered over Risha's face.
"It's nothing. I should have told you in advance; the failing was mine. Risha, at any rate, I entrust matters to you. Even mistakes have their value. Treat this as good experience."
"Yes, Father......!!"
Merciful, and at the same time, strict.
Gregory was both the Margrave who guarded the border and a warm father to Risha.
Bearing Risha's respectful gaze, he quietly vanished into the crowd.
'......Hm?'
But on the spot where he'd stood, a single drop of water had fallen. Risha dismissed it as nothing.
Had she realized it was her father's cold sweat, she'd have been shaken to her core.
And just before the charity ball began—
In the back corridors of the ballroom, somewhere among the waiting rooms where the academy's staff bustled about—
"Nunim! It's an honor to see you again so soon!"
Wham!
Sir Julius, the Royal Knight Commander who'd come to the academy as the First Prince's escort, slammed his head to the floor.
"Nunim! My apologies for seeking you so late!"
"The world's gotten soft, hasn't it? A man shows up later than your idiot disciple and you think you've gotten comfortable, is that it?"
"No, Nunim!!!"
WHAM!!
Gone was the demeanor Gregory had worn moments before. With his hands clasped behind his back, he slammed his head down even louder than his subordinate had.
And the person receiving the greetings of these two men was, naturally—
"Still, it's been a long time. Gregory."
"Yes! Nunim!"
—the host(?) of this charity ball, and its true center of gravity.
The Chairwoman.