The Love Hypothesis
Twinkle, twinkle. Crack.
The atmosphere in the drawing room, which had suddenly grown lively at the mention of the Third Grand Duchess’s name, settled once more into quiet.
Ariel had to sit back down with an awkward smile.
“I talked too much on my own, didn’t I? Sorry.”
“…It’s fine.”
“I’d read the novel where the Grand Duchess is the heroine five whole times. She’s one of my favorite protagonists, so I just got carried away with the fuss….”
She scratched the back of her head, half-hoping the other girl might ask for the title—but unfortunately, something as delusional as a self-insert autobiography held not even a shred of interest for Lumiang.
In the end, Ariel set her expectations aside and returned to the main point she had momentarily forgotten.
“So… what message did the Grand Duchess want to give me?”
What could the Third Grand Duchess—someone she had never even met, someone who shouldn’t even know she existed—possibly want to say?
And under cover of this late night, in the dark, no less.
With a somewhat tense face, Ariel wrapped both hands around her teacup. She had wanted to feel its warmth, yet the cup had already gone cold—just like the air in the drawing room.
A moment later.
Another name left Erincia’s lips, and only then could Ariel faintly guess why the Grand Duchess had sent her person.
“You’ve been reading together with Young Master Elden Raphelion lately, haven’t you?”
It was probably similar to the reason her maid had expressed concern about dining with a candidate for the Engagement Contest.
But Elden had withdrawn, and since she had not interfered in that declaration at all, she had been certain she would never hear a scolding from the Grand Duchess or have any books confiscated.
An academy classmate she had reunited with by chance.
A classmate with whom she simply shared a common hobby.
A classmate she only ate with because he had no one else to share meals with.
A classmate who was only just opening his eyes to the new world of reading.
To Ariel, Elden was that kind of person.
Of course the time they spent together was so enjoyable that her smiles never stopped, and of course her gaze kept drifting toward the way he happily read the books she recommended—but that smile and that gaze were only because she was glad to have found a reading companion.
The way she looked forward to their reading sessions was only for that reason; the way those sessions always felt too short was for the same reason; the regret she felt at parting was for that same reason alone.
It was a relationship that had begun through the common ground of pure literature, a relationship that would never have started otherwise.
And since Elden himself showed her no romantic interest or affection, there was no reason this wholesome little reading club would ever face reprimand.
That was why she answered so easily.
“Yeah.”
At the same time, Lumiang’s eyes narrowed sharply— a gaze that signaled the true verification of her hypothesis of love was about to begin.
“And you dine together as well.”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Then you must have heard that Young Master Elden Raphelion declared his withdrawal?”
“Yeah. But I also heard it was rejected.”
“Did he happen to mention the reason?”
“He said it was because he lacked the qualifications?”
It matched what she had already heard, so Lumiang gave a faint nod.
She had never expected to seize what she wanted from the very first exchange.
She would dig persistently, subtly, until she unearthed the true answer behind Elden’s withdrawal.
“…Is that so. Nothing else?”
“Nothing else?”
“Well, I was wondering if there might be another reason for the withdrawal.”
“There wasn’t.”
“Then did he speak of his future plans?”
It had been yesterday at lunch.
In the middle of talking about books, the topic of future plans had suddenly come up.
On the premise that a withdrawn candidate could never win, she had asked what he intended to do once the Engagement Contest ended.
Elden had answered without a moment’s hesitation—with a face so happy it looked as if he were already living that plan.
“He said he’s going to go on a gastronomic journey?”
“…What?”
Lumiang’s brow furrowed.
At the same time, the index finger of her right hand—still holding the teacup—began to twitch.
It was the same unconscious habit she had shown at her first meeting with Elden: the habit that appeared whenever she observed an interesting subject. And for Lumiang, who had never imagined something like a “gastronomic journey” among Elden’s future plans, this was interesting information indeed.
“A gastronomic journey…….”
“Yeah. That’s why he even asked if I could recommend any books related to Monster Cuisine. Unfortunately I don’t have that hobby, so I couldn’t help him.”
“…What? Monster Cuisine?”
Monster Cuisine.
The moment that phrase entered the conversation, the image of Elden deliciously tearing into the leg of a loathsome Red Longer rose in Lumiang’s mind—the way he had taken a firm bite of the flesh and then sucked the grease from his fingertips.
Could it be that what she had intended as food torture, meant to teach him terror, had instead opened his eyes to a new flavor?
No wonder… he really did look like he was enjoying it.
The hand that had set down the Red Longer’s leg after claiming he would only take one bite because he was a withdrawn candidate had looked so reluctant—and that reluctance had been genuine.
Strength poured into the hand gripping her teacup.
Her molars ground together hard.
The feeling that she had somehow done a “good deed” for Elden, the same Elden who kept ruining her plans and slipping away so irritatingly, was no different from the time she had chewed insects.
It was revolting.
Her teeth ached with the urge to grind them.
Even so, she had to maintain composure in front of Ariel, so she expelled everything in a single sigh.
“Haa…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Did he happen to say he has no intention of retracting his withdrawal?”
“Doesn’t seem like it?”
“…Not even a speck of intention?”
“Not from what I saw.”
“….”
It was the stifling sensation of swallowing boiled potatoes one after another without water.
Every question she threw bounced right back as if a mana barrier had been cast.
With the flow running completely opposite to what she had expected, Lumiang decided to bring out the main point.
“…Young Lady, do you perhaps have any guess as to another reason for his withdrawal? For instance… that he has fallen in love with someone else?”
But Ariel pursed her lips.
It was not as cold as the night air that had grown chilly, yet a frosty light settled in her reddish-brown eyes.
The feeling of being interrogated somehow informed her that even Ariel’s always-cheerful eyes could hold displeasure.
“But are you here to deliver the Grand Duchess’s words, or did you come to interrogate me?”
“Ah… if I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. These are all questions the Grand Duchess ordered me to get answers for.”
In her heart she wanted to reveal that she herself was Lumiang Winterfell, the Third Grand Duchess, and force a proper answer—but she did not wish to do that to Young Lady Ariel, who was merely a third party.
Toward a good person who did not associate with villains, a request was more proper than coercion.
Today’s meeting was only for the sake of persuasion and securing the credibility of her hypothesis.
So Lumiang stepped back one pace and apologized in earnest, and Ariel likewise set aside her displeasure and stepped back as well.
“Well, it doesn’t seem like any romantic rumors are circulating about him?”
“Is that so….”
Lumiang carefully observed every detail of Ariel’s expression, breathing, gestures, and reactions, searching for the faintest traces of perjury or falsehood—yet unfortunately nothing caught her eye.
Just as when she had spoken alone with Elden, everything appeared entirely truthful.
Annoyingly so.
“But why are you asking me all this?”
Now it was Lumiang who found herself receiving a question from Ariel, the one who had deflected every inquiry.
Since this was the situation she had hoped for, she delivered the answer without hesitation.
“This is a message the Grand Duchess is conveying because she trusts that you, Young Lady, will not leak it.”
“What is it…?”
“The Grand Duchess hopes that Young Master Elden’s declaration of withdrawal will be retracted.”
“Why?”
“She also hopes that Young Master Elden will give his all in the Engagement Contest.”
“…Why?”
Until now it had only been the preparatory stage for verifying her hypothesis.
With the preparations finished, it was time to move to the next stage.
Lumiang smiled softly and opened the curtain for that next step.
“Because the Grand Duchess is in love with Young Master Elden.”
[Love]
The hypothesis that had begun with that word would now be verified by that same word.
If Ariel were secretly dating Elden, or even exchanging feelings of a similar kind, she would show some subtle reaction.
No one would welcome the appearance of a powerful rival intent on interference, after all.
Just as expected, Ariel’s face froze in shock.
It was the first good reaction Lumiang had seen since Elden’s withdrawal declaration.
“What…? Sh-she’s… in love with Elden…?”
Lumiang hid her smile.
The hypothesis that had undergone verification was now on the verge of being proven.
If, after the shock faded, hostility or wariness appeared, then Elden’s withdrawal would have been because of love.
If the emotion was strong enough to abandon the restoration of his house, it would surely be a deep love rather than a shallow one-sided crush.
She would finally be free of this unsolvable worst-case riddle.
“Yes. She fell for him at first sight…”
Unfortunately—
“Holy—crap! Th-then if Elden retracts his withdrawal, he could become the Grand Duke’s son-in-law? He’d become part of the great Winterfell Grand Ducal House?”
—to a mere bookworm who only found happiness in reading time with Elden, who only found joy in sharing impressions with him, this was something to welcome.
After all, anyone would gladly return joy to the person who brought them joy.
“Then the Grand Duchess wants me to give Elden the courage to retract his withdrawal declaration!”
Twinkle~ twinkle.
Ariel’s eyes sparkled with the expectation that she might be able to help the heroine she admired from her novel—the Woman of the Secret Snowfield—and she clenched both fists tightly, firming her resolve.
Tomorrow morning she would visit Elden’s annex first, before the library.
“……….”
Crack.
The captain of a ship that had run aground just short of landfall, whose promising hypothesis for solving the riddle had shattered, whose sole lamp that could have cleared the thick fog had gone out, had no choice but to clench both fists and swallow her rage.
In the end she had learned nothing.
In the end she had only repeated the failure of her hypothesis.
A fire of frustration began to blaze in her gut beneath the boiling flames of anger, and Lumiang was once again swept up in an unquenchable thirst.
Just like the time she had withered because she could not extinguish her thirst for learning.
Just like the time she had dried up because she could not suppress her obsession with research.
“Tell the Grand Duchess she can trust this Ariel!”
And so, the final evaluation before the face-to-face meeting was drawing near.