Three Ways to Ruin Elysia
"So you're planning to back Serin as Tower Master instead of Zenon?"
Yuriel nuzzled her soft cheek against my palm again and looked up at me with those clear, transparent blue eyes. She had plainly caught on to my intent: to crush the elders' opposition, cut their patronage off at the root, and twist the original story by installing Serin as Tower Master in Zenon's place.
"That's right. To claim the seat of Tower Master, you're supposed to complete three tasks set by the deputy Tower Masters. They dress it up as a test of a candidate's qualifications, but in practice they allow every kind of underhanded infighting imaginable. And once the competition turns vicious, it's not uncommon for a bloodbath to follow."
"Mm... that's why I never wanted to go to the Magic Tower, even if my Divine Power hadn't manifested. Something like that happens once every few decades..."
She murmured the words, still rubbing her cheek against my hand.
"If a slaughter that brutal is an open secret... then using that chaos to kill Zenon should be possible as well."
At the chill that settled into my voice, Yuriel pulled her cheek away for a moment and looked up at me. She seemed to like the calculation—turning the cruel rules of the Tower Master selection against him, and disposing of Zenon in the one arena where killing was permitted. The corner of her pink lips curled, just slightly.
It didn't last. A moment later she pressed that soft cheek firmly back into my palm.
"We're done talking now... so please don't talk about other girls."
For a while she half-closed her eyes in satisfaction, rubbing against my hand like a cat. Then a faint presence stirred beyond the door, and her cheeks puffed out in a tiny sulk.
Once she confirmed who was standing outside the lecture hall, her lips pushed into a pout, as if it offended her that another woman had shown up the instant she'd told me not to talk about other girls. Even so, she made a point of scooting even closer, sitting flush against my side for anyone to see.
Confirming that the very person I needed to meet, Renee Belfort, was walking in of her own accord, I let the corner of my mouth lift.
Renee stepped into the lecture hall, took in the two of us pressed together in the empty room as if we'd been holding a secret tryst, and twisted her mouth into a sneer.
"Caelus Hatelion. That bitch Elysia has been running around meeting every man behind your back, so you've decided to do the same?"
She let out a short laugh and kept going.
"Whatever. She stabbed you in the back first, so whether you shack up with some other girl is none of my business. Hell—thinking about how she'd lose her mind if she saw this might even make it better. Go on, then. Do worse."
Renee laughed as she threw the provocation, but I only looked at her, my gaze indifferent. When I didn't rise to it, she narrowed her eyes and raked a sharp look over my face, as if trying to read my intent.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong? ...Don't tell me you still want to cover for her, even knowing what she's done?"
As her tone turned jagged, I held her gaze and spoke quietly.
"I know perfectly well how much you hate Elysia, Renee Belfort."
"Of course I do! Do you have any idea what I've been through because of that bitch—!"
Watching the flare of her temper, I went on as if it were nothing.
"And I know the helplessness you felt when Cyan Windsor's schemes brought your trading company down and your house to ruin."
The instant Cyan's name left my mouth, Renee clenched her fists so hard they shook, her whole body trembling with rage.
"...Why the hell are you bringing that bastard's name up. What do you know about it, running your mouth like that?"
She forced the words through trembling lips, spitting them as best she could.
"No matter how sharp you hone your blade of revenge against Elysia and Cyan, in your current position you can't accomplish a single thing. However unshakable your will, without a foundation and capital to back it, that hatred of yours is nothing but a dull lump of iron. It won't cut anything."
Renee bit down on her lip. She had no rebuttal. Hearing her most painful circumstances laid out so plainly left her with nothing to throw back.
Once I was sure she was shaken, I finally put the real offer on the table.
The proposal was so abrupt, so outrageous, that Renee stared at me as if the air had been punched from her lungs. Her pupils shuddered wildly, as though her thoughts had seized up on the spot.
"You're telling me to take your hand...? Why would you even...? Even if you want revenge on Elysia, there's no reason to reach out to someone who's had everything taken from her..."
Watching her freeze under the shock, I spoke in a low murmur.
"If you want to hear the rest, come tomorrow at midnight. The dilapidated spherical observation dome on the outskirts of the Old Town. Come down to the basement there."
It was a meeting place Bella had secured in advance. Even the Windsor Merchant Guild's eyes wouldn't reach it. Whether she came and took my hand was, from this moment on, entirely in Renee Belfort's hands.
"I'll hear your answer tomorrow."
"Why the hell..."
Vengeance and fury were already goading her to seize my hand this instant, but cold reason and suspicion kept slamming on the brakes.
"Why are you setting this up? What do you even want from me...!"
The feelings she had been holding down burst out of her in a sharp, almost screaming demand. I only watched her, still wearing that unhurried smile. Faced with a composure so calm it bordered on arrogance, Renee seemed to realize, a beat too late, that she was the one in the weaker position. She forced her mouth shut.
In the end, unable to bear the weight of the silence that had settled over the lecture hall, she dropped her head as if conceding defeat.
"...Fine. I'll go, all right?!"
The words came out like a cry. As if she couldn't stand to look at my face any longer, Renee fled the lecture hall.
I was watching her run when I felt a tug at my sleeve. Looking down, I found Yuriel with her lips pushed into a pointed pout. It was a wordless protest: the conversation was over, so look at her, not some other girl. Her cheeks were puffed ever so slightly as she jabbed the edge of my coat sleeve with a fingertip, poke, poke.
Then, as if she'd taken a liking to the sensation, she began rolling the cuff around her finger and unrolling it again, fidgeting in tiny, restless motions. The spoiled little complaint nearly startled a laugh out of me.
I reached out and lightly brushed back the silver hair of the girl still clinging to my sleeve and fussing with it. The moment my hand touched her, Yuriel gave a small start—then her pale ears and face flushed red.
She'd been so pleased with herself while she was the one doing the touching, and yet the instant I so much as laid a hand on her, she crumpled into embarrassment. The contradiction was absurd, and strangely adorable.
I stroked her hair slowly as she tried to hide that burning face, and beyond the lecture-hall window I watched Renee's figure recede into the distance.
Theodore had already bowed his head beneath Hatelion's banner, and Sienna, once her contract ran out, would swear her loyalty as my knight. In the savage melee for the Tower Master's seat, I would join hands with Serin and cut Zenon's life short. Backed by the Grand Duchy, Renee's trading company would rise again and return every crime Cyan had committed, measure for measure. And last of all, the new Western Continent route I had opened would smash House Florence's coffers to pieces and trample that arrogant family that had dared to swallow the Grand Duchy.
Steal away the people who stood at her side.
Bring down her house.
And execute, one after another, the men she relied on.
Until I had stripped her of the glittering honor she enjoyed, of her wealth, and even of the lives of the men with whom she shared her secret trysts—every last thing.
The first day I had endured as Caelus Hatelion's knight.
I dragged my exhausted body to my room, opened the door, and spotted a letter that had been slipped through the crack.
I tore the envelope open and checked the contents. Just as I'd expected: a nagging demand for renewal, sent with the contract's expiration only a few days away.
A contract I no longer needed to extend, and one that wasn't even worth a moment's hesitation. From the instant I decided to enter Caelus Hatelion's service, I had every intention of cutting that squalid tie to House Florence without a shred of lingering attachment.
I snorted, picked up the fountain pen waiting on the desk, and wrote my reply without the slightest pause.
Effective upon the expiration of the current contract, I hereby notify you that no further renewal will be undertaken.
The moment I finished the reply and set the pen down, a clean, satisfying lightness settled through my chest. I folded the paper slowly in half, slid it into an envelope, and tossed it onto the table.
Then I raised my middle finger at the envelope stamped with that insufferable count's crest.
"It's been filthy. Let's never see each other again."
Now, at last, that stubborn entanglement with Elysia Florence was truly over.