An Inescapable Grudge (1)
Because the Imperial Academy's Class Placement Exam was both important and long, a tradition had taken root over the years: families waiting outside the exam grounds for their children to emerge.
But Luid and Hershey had been admitted early. There should have been no one waiting outside for them.
“Ah, Luid. You're a little late?”
Amelia came waving, her hair damp with sweat — it looked as though she'd come straight from training.
“Sister, what are you doing here?”
“Well, you're Luid, aren't you? No way you'd want to sit through a whole week of that, so I figured you'd find some way out no matter what.”
Amelia glanced over at Hershey, who stood beside him looking flustered.
“And who's this?”
“A friend.”
At Luid's matter-of-fact answer, Hershey flinched.
A friend…?
Hershey had never had many friends, even as a child. She and Sophia were close, in a way, but there had always been distance between them — even now, they still addressed each other with formal honorifics in front of others.
So when Luid had so readily called her a friend, Hershey had been overjoyed. If no one had been watching, she might have actually cheered.
“It's a pleasure. My name is Amelia Windsor. Thank you for keeping my little brother company.”
Amelia placed a hand over her chest and inclined her head in a measured, elegant bow.
“H-Hershey Minerva. The p-pleasure was all mine.”
Flustered as she was, her voice came out hiccuping. Hershey covered her mouth, her face flushing red.
What if she thinks I'm strange? B-but she's gorgeous. So this is the Sword Princess…
In terms of fame alone, Amelia Windsor was a bigger name than Luid himself. From a young age, her formidable swordsmanship had spread her name far and wide. Combined with her striking looks, the way she handled a blade was said to resemble a dance — hence her epithet, the Sword Princess.
Seeing her in person, she was even more beautiful. Her hair fell only to her shoulders, on the shorter side, but her dignified bearing made it impossible for anyone to treat her carelessly.
“Now then, here.”
Amelia abruptly held out her hand to Luid. Luid stared blankly at it.
“Your score report.”
“Oh.”
Luid fumbled it out and handed it over. Amelia took the report and read it carefully — though it was only a few lines long at best. When she finished, she gave a pleased little hum and ruffled his hair.
“Well done, Lui. Not even I or our older sister got an Out-of-Spec designation.”
She pulled Luid into a firm hug and rubbed her cheek against his. She smelled wonderful. Amelia was in a terrific mood.
Luid, however, was not.
Just wait until I'm taller.
Being treated like a little kid pissed him off. It was his sole complex from his modern life, after all.
Reading his expression, Amelia broke into a round, knowing smile.
“Aw, that's the face of a boy saying 'just wait till I'm taller.'”
“……!”
“That's never happening, so give up on the dream now. Have fun with your friend!”
A crease formed between Luid's brows. The corners of his mouth twitched.
Watching him, Hershey thought:
He really is adorable…!
The Academy grounds were enormous — vast enough to rival the Imperial Palace itself. They were broadly divided into east, west, south, and north, with the Magic Department occupying the south and the Swordsmanship Department the north. The division wasn't strict, though. They were all students of the same Imperial Academy, and the departments freely made use of one another's facilities.
Luid and Hershey made their way to West Town, where the amenities were clustered — a street lined with shops, half of them restaurants. Any Academy student worth their salt took their meals here.
The place they settled on was a restaurant called the Feast of Magic. It was the most expensive establishment in West Town, with prices that would make even a moderately wealthy noble wince.
But expensive as it was, it remained popular, and the tables were scattered with diners.
“Look at that — Lady Minerva and Young Lord Luid.”
“They're first-years, aren't they? Don't tell me they actually failed?”
“How odd. My guess is Young Lord Luid got bored and begged Lady Hershey to come out with him.”
“Haha. Now that's a realistic take.”
They'd taken a window seat, and the murmuring drifted over from nearby. Luid's sharp senses picked it up as clearly as if they were whispering right beside him.
Why am I the one doing the begging, exactly?
Being made the subject of gossip was fine — he was used to that — but the content of it rubbed him the wrong way.
“Ahem. Today's on me, so order whatever you like.”
“You don't have to treat me.”
“Fufu. Don't hold back. I know all about it, you see? I've heard House Windsor is terribly strict about allowances.”
Hershey declared this with great confidence. In the Imperial Capital, a certain saying was well known: If you ever meet the heir of House Windsor, buy them a fine meal — for one day, that tiresome chaperone watching over them will vanish without a trace.
Not true, though.
None of it applied to Luid. As the youngest of House Windsor, Luid Christopher was only twelve years old. For a family to send a mere hatchling off to the Academy and then ration his allowance? Unthinkable.
Still, when someone offered to buy, there was no reason to refuse. Money was the kind of thing that was always better in greater quantity.
“You know a lot about my family, don't you?”
“It's one of only two Ducal houses in the Empire, isn't it? Not knowing that would disqualify anyone from being a noble. And besides that… you helped me, so repaying you is simply good manners.”
“All I did was keep a promise.”
“You're the one who said it, Luid — whatever you give, I should just accept. So I'm throwing those exact words right back at you. No more arguing; order your food.”
Was it because of her good exam results? Hershey's spirits were utterly soaring. She'd been beaming nonstop.
She looks nice when she smiles.
With that thought, Luid placed his order. The waiter took it, bowed politely, and headed off toward another table.
“Is that really enough? You could order more, you know…”
“I can't eat much anyway.”
True to his small frame, Luid's appetite was small as well.
“By the way, do you plan to stay the fairy of Delrin's Lake from now on?”
“Probably? But drop the 'fairy' part.”
“Yessir. …Though it does suit you.”
Hershey looked genuinely disappointed.
Luid deliberately changed the subject.
“What about you, Hershey?”
“I plan to focus on my weaker subjects. Magic Psychology, Potion Crafting, that sort of thing? It's lucky I'm in the Expert class — Magic Psychology is only taught there.”
As they traded bits of small talk, the time slipped past quickly. The aroma of a delicious steak wafted over, and Hershey's face took on a faint look of regret.
…I wanted to keep talking.
Among the dining etiquette of the nobility was a rule against talking much during a meal — a courtesy meant to let one savor the food's full flavor. Conversation was meant to wait until afterward, over dessert. The flow had been cut off, and that was a shame.
“A savory stew of finely diced onion and unicorn meat, and a steak of unicorn tenderloin roasted to the perfect temperature.”
“Mm.”
The food was headed not to Luid's table, but to a different one. A table that had ordered after theirs.
And it was the exact same menu, at that.
“I think there's been a mistake. Judging by how that's a different waiter than before, I'd say the order never got relayed properly.”
Hershey said this, blinking. Luid stared at the other table for a moment. The students who'd received the food immediately dug in. It didn't look like their order had gone there — just a coincidence, apparently, of identical menus.
“What are the odds. Who knew coincidence came in flavors like this.”
“The unicorn stew and steak are the Feast of Magic's most popular dishes.”
“Maybe I should have ordered the steak.”
“Couldn't you still change it now?”
“Not worth it. Too much hassle.”
“Or you could just order another one. I was planning to splurge on you, and it's honestly a problem that you only ever order one thing.”
Luid shook his head.
“The unicorn would be sad.”
He'd come to a restaurant to eat unicorn meat, and now the unicorn was sad. Hershey gave him an exasperated look.
“…You're surprisingly considerate, Luid.”
Luid gazed out the window and sipped his tea. Nothing more to it — just his usual habit of zoning out.
And then.
“Huh?”
“There they are.”
The protagonist's group had appeared. Apparently they'd stuck together even after the exam ended.
Luid had been quietly observing, but now they were heading this way. He sighed.
This is straight-up sabotage. You're kidding me.
Out of all the restaurants in West Town, why here? Why the most expensive one, of all places?
…Is Sophia the culprit?
He watched as the three of them chatted, then Sophia took Catherine's hand and dragged her along. It seemed Sophia was the one planning to pay.
Shouldn't matter, though.
They were the protagonist's group, after all — surely they wouldn't pick a fight with people quietly eating their meal.
Luid decided to trust in the excellent character of the protagonist, Justin.
But just in case.
“Hershey.”
“Yes?”
“That, uh — there's that commoner. The one who took your feather.”
“Justin, was it?”
Hershey frowned slightly, as if struggling to remember.
“Are you going to press the matter?”
“Of course. He's a feather thief, after all. And not just any feather — a genuine Phoenix Feather, no less. A commoner with thoroughly sticky fingers deserves to be put on notice. However.”
Hershey smiled brightly.
“This is not the place for it.”
Luid nodded along. Then it was no concern of his.
Watching him, Hershey asked carefully:
“…Do you want me to press the matter, Luid?”
“Absolutely not.”
Right on cue, the protagonist's group walked in. For some reason, the atmosphere around them felt oddly awkward and busy.
Hershey hadn't intended to spare them so much as a glance — until she noticed Sophia among them and gave a small nod. Sophia mouthed 'we won't bother you!'That's not what this is about, Hershey answered back — but her cheeks flushed red all the same.
Luid's eyes met Catherine's. She was glaring at him with a positively ferocious expression — vulgarly put, a look that screamed annoying as hell.
He ignored her completely. Do you step around dung because you fear it? No — you step around it because it's filthy.
Dung. Now that's an apt metaphor.
To Luid, the protagonist's party was no different from dung on the road.
“Your order, please.”
The same waiter who had taken Luid's order earlier hurried over at a brisk pace to take the group's.
He'd wanted not to care. He couldn't manage it — their table was directly within his line of sight.
And whether he wanted to or not, he could hear every word of their conversation.
“Hmph, acting all high and mighty. Turns out they failed too, in the end.”
“I don't think talking behind people's backs is a good look.”
“We're too far away for them to hear. And this much is fine. We're the ones who got unfairly cut because we wouldn't flatter them, aren't we?”
Annoying.
There was nothing worse than overhearing someone badmouth you behind your back. Luid took a sip of water and spoke.
“I wonder when the food's coming.”
He wanted nothing more than to eat quickly and get out of this place.
“Right? It's enough to make me wonder if they forgot our order. Should we ask?”
“Yeah.”
Hershey gave the waiter a light wave.
He needed no asking. The moment the waiter reached Luid's table, he realized his own mistake.
“I-I'm terribly sorry. It seems there was some kind of mix-up. I'll relay your order again at once.”
The waiter bowed his head so excessively that anyone watching would have felt sorry for him.
“It's quite all right. Take your time.”
When Luid said this, the waiter responded with deep gratitude.
“N-no, please, forgive me. I'll bring it out as quickly as I can.”
Luid nodded, and the waiter vanished at a considerably faster pace than before.
Hershey watched his retreating back for a moment, then turned to Luid with a bright smile and picked their conversation back up where it had left off.
“By the way, Luid, what's your signature magic?”
“Our house is cold.”
“Ah, the frost attribute, then. How very Windsor of you. It suits you perfectly. …Is it very cold, though? The North?”
“Want to come visit? You'd find out in an instant.”
“R-really? You mean that?”
“…Why so surprised?”
Conversation with Hershey was never unpleasant. She was a good listener, and the earlier unpleasantness had washed cleanly away. Maybe that was why —
“Thank you for the long wait. Your unicorn stew and steak, sir.”
The food arrived, and he actually felt a pang of disappointment that the pleasant talk had been interrupted.
Well, there's plenty of time.
He'd simply save that pleasure for later.
Luid picked up his spoon in good spirits. He had just scooped up a mouthful of stew when —
“We ordered first, so why is their food coming out before ours?”
…Catherine's irritated voice cut through the air.
Loud enough that it might as well have been meant for his ears.