Sealed Encouragement
At the Royal Academy, where people of every status and class gathered, first-year students took a vow that was nothing short of a sacred oath at their entrance ceremony.
They swore never to wield rank or title as a weapon in the pursuit of learning.
Under the sanctity of education, this was the sole world where all were equal and innate superiority held no sway. With that truth carved into their hearts, they stepped through the academy gates.
They enrolled at sixteen and graduated at nineteen.
Then, in the year they turned twenty, they made their formal debut into high society, putting the knowledge and wisdom gained at the academy to use as they crossed the threshold into the world of adults.
In that sense, the academy was also a place for advance practice—a training ground for the life that awaited them.
Communities formed along class lines. Students from neighboring regions pledged future alliances. Some quietly marked partners for their society debut. Flattery and tribute began to flow as the ambitious sought footholds in the upper ranks. All of it happened here.
A place where scholarly study and the lessons of life unfolded side by side.
Yet in that fierce arena of learning, there was one who never found a single point of contact.
Ariel Elrond, daughter of Count Elrond.
Though she was the daughter of a high-ranking noble house and the young ladies beneath her station tried desperately to offer tribute and flattery, she never spared them a glance.
The life lessons meant to prepare her for the adult world, the academic study required to become an outstanding talent, even her parents’ hope that she would graduate at the top of her class—Ariel cast every last one of them beyond the edge of her vision. For three full years she cared only about the academy library.
Naturally she had no close friends, belonged to no community, and hadn’t the faintest idea how to mingle with the upper crust.
A student whose presence approached zero.
A student interested in neither academics nor socializing.
And yet a student who went about her days endlessly smiling, thoroughly entertained.
A student who stuffed her enormous bag full of novels instead of textbooks.
Even when her maid fretted that she would turn into a bookish dwarf, stuffing that bag to the brim with novels remained the happiest part of her day.
It was only natural that Ariel Elrond had no friends from her school days.
Her grades scraped the bottom of the fierce competition for last place; anything resembling achievement was a fantasy.
Fortunately she was the youngest of three sons and three daughters, free of responsibility and therefore free from her parents’ stern scrutiny.
In those three years she read every novel in the academy library. On days without lectures she scoured the surrounding territories for new books and read those too.
The Royal Academy stood at the kingdom’s heart, in the capital.
In this barren, distant land of bitter cold, there was no one who would know her face. Even if a former classmate from the Royal Academy happened to be here, they would have no reason to seek her out.
She felt no particular difficulty with human connection, nor was her personality so prickly that friendship was impossible. She simply refused to let anything steal time from her reading, and so she remained alone.
Well, alone except for a handful of fellow obsessive readers with whom she would dive into the deep sea of books.
Unfortunately they all preferred romance novels, so sharing impressions was out of the question.
At any rate, identifying the guest who had come calling this late at night was no difficult task for her.
Unaware that the final evaluation rules forbade candidates from leaving their lodgings after dark, Ariel’s mind naturally settled on one name: Elden.
“The guest has been shown to the drawing room.”
“Mm. Thank you.”
What could he want at this hour?
No—wait a second.
Come to think of it, I never told him where my lodgings were.
How did he find me?
With every step the questions piled higher as Ariel made her way to the drawing room.
Two knights stood guard at the door. She stepped through as it opened and called his name without thinking.
“Elden…?”
The rest of the question—what brings you here?—never left her lips.
It was a woman.
Standing by the window without her hood, gazing outside, was a woman whose pure white hair marked her as a northerner. The back of a stranger. Ariel’s feet stopped of their own accord.
An inexplicable sense of wrongness prickled at her.
She asked carefully,
“Who… are you?”
There had been no northerners among her academy classmates.
Of course not every northerner had white hair; the trait simply appeared only among those born in the north, and so it had become their symbol.
A moment later the woman turned from the window.
Dazzling white hair. Clear, cool blue eyes. A straight nose and crimson lips. A sharp jawline and a slender neck that seized the eye.
The face was familiar.
Yet that face had most definitely worn red hair—deep, ripe rose-red.
“Hoho. It’s been a long time, Lady Ariel.”
“Uh…”
The voice tugged at a name that hovered just out of reach, half-remembered.
While Ariel pieced the letters together one by one, the woman spared her the effort.
She swept a hand down the ends of her white hair.
“Ah, the hair color must have thrown you. It’s me.”
“W-wait.”
The name finally clicked into place.
The student who had possessed red hair set against those same clear blue eyes.
The student who, unlike Ariel, had burned with more passion for her studies than anyone else.
The student whose nature had been the complete opposite of her own, who lived so far away that the chance of ever meeting again had been nearly zero.
“E-Erincia… was it…?”
“Hoho. I’m delighted you remember me. It’s an honor to greet you like this. I am Erincia Beloque, daughter of Baron Beloque.”
Lumiang the optics prodigy and Ariel the bookworm.
Different yet alike, their reunion began just like that.
“Pervert.”
“…….”
You don’t have to look at me with that much contempt.
Thanks to my overwhelming reflexes it was only a light contact accident, you know.
Pat, pat.
I dusted off my rear and stood up.
“It was an accident.”
“Still, you made it look quite natural.”
“You’re the one who launched a surprise tackle in the first place, Master.”
“I merely wished to confirm your reflexes.”
No, you didn’t.
You were clearly punishing me for failing to give the author of that cringe-inducing fanfic a proper thrashing.
When I narrowed my eyes as if to say I knew exactly what she was thinking, Rachel averted her gaze.
Walking the righteous path as she did, she was clearly terrible at lying.
Of course, that was an excellent virtue in a bodyguard charged with protecting her employer.
“So? Did the confirmation go well?”
“It wasn’t bad.”
“Good to hear. Then let’s continue.”
“Yes.”
The training that followed dragged late into the night and left me completely drained. Now Rachel and I were on our way back to the annex.
She had worked me so hard my arms and legs felt like jelly.
A few more days of this and I might evolve into a soft-bodied invertebrate.
Whether that counted as evolution or devolution, I had no idea.
“Good work today, Rachel.”
“Shall we continue tomorrow as well?”
“If the evaluation match ends early.”
“Understood. I’ll be ready.”
We finally reached the annex and stepped through the front door. Head Butler Rendler hurried toward me with quick steps.
Behind him I spotted Central Aide Gelwood.
Gelwood drew close and spoke in a low voice.
“Young Master.”
“What is it?”
“Sir Gelwood the aide says he has something to deliver to you.”
“…Something to deliver?”
“Yes.”
“You could have just taken it for me.”
“Well… he insists it is a message from Her Grace the Grand Duchess and must be delivered in person.”
……Hmm.
What scheme is our heroine cooking up this time to urge me into the fray?
It certainly wasn’t approval of my withdrawal request, so I looked at Gelwood with a rather lukewarm gaze. He offered a polite greeting.
“Haha. We meet again, Young Master Elden. Seeing you soaked in sweat, the training must have been quite grueling.”
“It wasn’t easy. But what brings you here at this late hour?”
At my question Gelwood gestured courteously, inviting me for a walk—toward the garden inside the annex grounds.
“If it would not be too much of an imposition, might I ask for a moment of your time?”
Part of me wanted to refuse, but curiosity won out.
What could he possibly need to convey under cover of this deep night?
What message was so important that the heroine herself would not deliver it but send a third party instead?
And so I followed Gelwood into the moonlit night garden.
Crunch, crunch.
In a garden deep at night—where birds had long since sought sleep and only the insects still pursued their living—silence and peace reigned supreme.
Strolling through it under the moonlight made for a rather fine rest.
Had Gelwood not brought what he had, I might have walked on forever, lost in thought, so cozy and gentle did the garden feel.
Gelwood’s voice drifted into that quiet calm.
“Of the four annexes, this garden is the most beautiful.”
“This is my first time walking it, and it truly is splendid.”
“Haha. I’m glad it pleases you.”
Second only to the king in power.
True to that reputation, the annex garden boasted an expansive scale—grand and lavish enough to rival the grounds of any powerful count’s estate.
Of course, rooted as it was in this harsh land of bitter cold where life struggled to take hold, the garden painted a rather different picture from the usual.
Instead of broadleaf evergreens or deciduous trees, the garden was filled with conifers. Rather than flowers, snowflakes embroidered the paths.
As we walked and enjoyed the view, Gelwood’s voice came again.
“Tomorrow is the final evaluation match before the formal introductions, is it not?”
“I suppose so.”
“You have my sympathy, enduring evaluation matches that hold no interest for you simply because you are a candidate for Her Grace’s hand.”
“It’s not hard. I’m only fulfilling the bare minimum of my duty.”
“Have you no thought of withdrawing your intention to forfeit?”
At my lukewarm reply, Gelwood asked the question with surprising directness.
It was the first time I had heard those words since declaring my forfeit, and they seemed to carry a certain hope.
A wish that I would reverse course.
Unfortunately.
“I have no intention of withdrawing it.”
“Is that so. A pity.”
Gelwood’s footsteps stopped.
A pity, was it.
For a Central Aide who was supposed to maintain strict neutrality no matter the circumstances, the words carried a rather biased feeling.
“What exactly is a pity?”
Gelwood smiled and held something out.
A neatly folded note.
I took it.
“We have held the marriage tournament five times already, yet this is the first time I have seen a candidate receive a personal note from the principal. My task is finished, so I shall take my leave.”
Gelwood bowed his head and turned back the way he had come.
……If I simply reverse my forfeit, I become a powerful favorite for victory and a member of the Grand Ducal house. Is that what he means?
It was easily the most chilling thing I had heard in recent days.
One more reason never to reverse it, I thought, and unfolded the note.
There should be a cave eight hundred meters northeast of the starting point. I truly hope you will claim victory in tomorrow’s evaluation match. Truthfully… I fell for Young Master Elden at first sight
I folded the note.
I checked the surroundings, then dug into the dirt.
I placed the note inside.
Over it I fashioned a thin cross of twigs, then covered everything with soil.
I pressed down hard with my hands so it could never reincarnate.
Then I fled straight back to the annex.