Residue of Malice (6)

"Y-you've come as Lady Flora's escort knight?"

"Yes."

Caught completely off guard by the unexpected answer, Pitea Gelgeton blinked her eyes repeatedly, as if at a loss.

What is this?

The troublemaker who caused scandal after scandal. The center of controversy, whose mouth was perpetually full of lies. The Bagrand household's one and only adopted son, and its single, indelible stain.

Those were the epithets that defined Karsein Bagrand, the tags that could never be torn off him.

And so, in the past, he had never let go of his status.

Karsein was not a noble. He was a commoner Isabella Bagrand had picked up off the street. Because status was the only weapon he had, he'd clung to it desperately, never once willing to surrender his place.

And yet now, Karsein had cast that weapon aside with his own two hands.

Noble status. Membership in the ducal house. Watching him throw away both at once by declaring himself a mere escort knight, one couldn't help but tilt one's head in bewilderment.

Just as silence began to settle over the room, one of the young ladies suddenly seemed to realize something and shot a hurried signal to Pitea. The girl seated right beside her lowered her voice and whispered into her ear.

Karsein... has to be seated at the table?

The lady nodded and nodded again.

It made no sense. Why on earth?

She could understand him escaping the trap they'd prepared by claiming to be an escort, but there was no need to actually seat him at the table.

And yet a moment later, Pitea clapped a hand over her own mouth.

My goodness. How could I have failed to see this...! If we leave him standing, we'd be insulting Lady Flora and the Bagrand Ducal House!

Karsein was a commoner, not a noble, and so their blade had been honed to torment him quietly, through methods that never touched the Bagrand name itself.

But that approach rested on one essential precondition.

However unpleasant it might be, they had to acknowledge him outwardly as a noble, as the son of Bagrand.

Not one of them would ever truly accept him as an equal in their hearts, but on the surface he was the legally adopted son of the Duke. Who among them would dare slight the Bagrand Ducal House?

Letting that private contempt show was tantamount to declaring war on the Bagrand family — the very house even the imperial household dared not touch carelessly.

But the current situation shattered that precondition entirely.

Because he had declared himself an escort knight, he now appeared to be someone whom this tea party refused to acknowledge as a noble, as a son of Bagrand.

And if they accepted him as an escort, since it was Flora who had brought Karsein along as her supposed "companion," it would amount to insulting both her and the Bagrand Ducal ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠House at once.

Pitea hurried to smooth things over.

"P-please stop with that little joke, Lord Karsein. An escort? Really now."

"What joke? I am Flora's escort, plain and simple."

As Karsein countered with a perfectly composed expression, her stomach began to churn.

She had no choice. It was the last thing she wanted to say out loud, but right now, getting past this crisis came first.

"With the child of the Bagrand Ducal House — the very pinnacle of the nobility — gracing us with her presence, how could you possibly be placed on the same footing as the escort knights, as though you were no guest at all? Please, I beg you, think no more of it."

Even if he was nothing more than a commoner, they had to acknowledge him as a noble. They had to accept him as a member of the Bagrand house, and concede that he outranked everyone present. Only then could they avoid leaving him standing as an escort.

But Karsein didn't grant them even that sliver of an opening. No matter how badly they might have to grovel, he refused to budge from where he stood.

This was — he had stepped right back into their trap, only in reverse.

Then, in the middle of it all—

"Don't say such ridiculous things!!"

Someone leapt to their feet and shouted.

The voice belonged, unmistakably, to Flora Bagrand.

At her indignant outburst, the atmosphere of the tea party began to chill over, frost creeping across the room. After all, she was the one person whom any slight against Bagrand could not be tolerated from — least of all in this situation.

Pitea Gelgeton swallowed hard and moved to explain that there had simply been a misunderstanding.

But then—

"The seat next to me is Karsein's. Stop hanging around with the escort knights and get over here, now!"

The person Flora was addressing was not Pitea. It was Karsein.

In that instant, Pitea realized that fortune had smiled on her.

There's still a chance!

Flora didn't grasp what had happened, and she was inviting Karsein to sit down. Which meant—

"Th-that's right! That seat belongs to Lord Karsein, who was invited as Lady Flora's companion!"

Here, they had to rally behind Flora.

"Indeed! An escort? Please, withdraw such a thing at once...!"

Some of the nobles had been murmuring, puzzled by Pitea's sudden change of tune, but by this point they too caught on. One by one, they chimed in.

"Just as Lady Pitea said. Who would ever dream of slighting the Bagrand house... Right?"

"Y-yes! Exactly!"

"To speak plainly now, we all feel the very same way?"

"How could Lady Flora's companion possibly be a mere escort knight? She clearly brought Lord Karsein here as her guest!"

"There's hardly any need to guess who the thirtieth guest is. D-don't you agree?"

"Of course!"

"No one but Lord Karsein may sit in that seat!"

Flustered and scrambling though they were, they fell in behind Flora's wishes, all so that Karsein would not remain an escort.

Thanks to her, every noble gathered in this room had managed to avoid turning their backs on Bagrand.

"See? Everyone agrees. Sit down already. Hurry!!"

As Flora kept prodding him to come sit beside her at once, the anxious undercurrent among the nobles gradually faded. The awkward laughter that had rippled through the room gave way, little by little, to sighs of relief — because at last, he had taken his seat.

Karsein snorted softly and swept his gaze around the room.

So they're taking a step back, are they?

These were people who had looked ready to pounce and tear into him the moment he put a single foot wrong — yet now they were groveling with their tails tucked, because they didn't want to be at odds with Flora or the Bagrand Ducal House. It was almost laughable.

Their desperation to paper over the mess came through so transparently that a chuckle escaped him unbidden.

Well, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I never expected this to be settled in one blow anyway.

Even so, if these nobles were shrinking back this far, the results were shaping up to be decent enough.

Watching them trip over the very snares they'd laid for him was thoroughly amusing. It seemed he'd left a proper scratch on their pride, too.

Of course, wounded pride might drive them to lunge at him all the more savagely.

All he had to do was land one decisive blow at exactly that moment. Once they became beasts gone mad with rage, there was no easier prey to handle.

"You could've just sat down from the start. Why did you have to do something so weird?"

"I'm telling you, I came here as your escort."

"Nope, wrong! I didn't bring you here as an escort! Keep that up and I'm telling Big Sis everything?"

To Flora, the one who had brought about this whole situation—

He could simply spell it out for her.

The fact that this was the residue left behind by Flora Bagrand's own malice.

"Mmph..."

Claire let out a groan of misery.

Her footsteps, which had paced back and forth across the same stretch of floor more times than she could count, traced their endless circuit like a Möbius strip.

"...Still, I probably shouldn't have yelled at him like that?"

No matter how she tried, the memory kept surfacing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in her mind — the way she had shouted at Karsein in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rear garden.

It was true she'd been frustrated and angry on so many counts.

There he was, getting scolded like an idiot while hiding something that wouldn't have earned him any punishment at all if he'd simply told Mother the truth straight.

There he was, reaching out to Rusmayer Territory — a land with no noble house to shield it — to try to help them, without so much as cracking a smile about spending that money on something so right.

Sure, she'd snapped when he asked why any of it was her business, and flared up again when he insisted that what she'd done — not wrong at all, but plainly right — was somehow a mistake anyway...

Argh, you dense idiot! Fine! Go on, keep being stubborn as a mule, you absolute fool!

Thinking it over calmly, she really hadn't needed to lash out with curses on top of everything else.

All I had to do was ask him once, plainly, for his help. Honestly, is that why he keeps getting knocked around everywhere he goes? And for what — so he can carry that pointless, infuriating pride around!

Her grumbling as she'd stormed out of the rear garden was the same story.

She'd said it as though she couldn't care less whether Karsein heard her or not — but if he had, no one could have blamed him for being hurt by it.

"Ugh, honestly!"

Claire raked her fingers through her hair yet again.

Things could surely have been talked out nicely, all around. Yes, Karsein had pushed her away, but if she'd wrapped her point in gentler words and persuaded him properly, she could have cleared up Mother's misunderstanding too.

No — come to think of it, there'd been no reason to lace her words with curses like that in the first place.

It was all her own fault.

Her impatience always put her hands ahead of her words, and by the time the ugly ones left her mouth, the damage was already done.

It had been especially true where Karsein was concerned.

After grumbling and mussing up her hair so many times, the pin holding it in place began to wobble loose. The moment it slipped free, Claire lunged to catch it.

"Phew. Almost dropped it."

Fortunately, she felt it land in her palm. Spreading her fingers open, she saw the pink flower hairpin was unharmed, and relief washed over her.

"I absolutely cannot lose this. Someone gave it to me."

A hundred of the extravagant hair ornaments the nobles paraded around couldn't outweigh this one trinket. Even held up against the jewels Princess Arsien wore, to Claire it would pale beside this pin.

Because it was a gift from none other than Karsein himself.

She checked the pin carefully for any damage, then fastened it back where it belonged, securing it firmly in her hair.

With the pin back in place, her thoughts finally began to settle, if only a little. She let out a long breath, and the exhale lifted her pink bangs.

"Right. What did you even do wrong? If anything, you only did things worth praising. The one who's in the wrong is me — for getting worked up over nothing."

Either way, she needed to see Karsein.

He'd be in his room by now, so she figured she'd go speak with him face to face. But just as she set off toward Karsein's chamber, Arina came walking toward her from the opposite direction.

"Claire? What are you doing over here?"

"Ah. I was thinking I'd have a word with Karsein."

She couldn't exactly tell the truth, so she scratched her cheek and answered with an awkward little laugh. At that, Arina tilted her head.

"Karsein went off to the tea party with Flora, though?"

"When? How long ago?"

"A while back now. Flora was oddly insistent on dragging him along. Some tea party at the Gelgeton viscount family's villa, I think? She said everyone brings one companion each."

"...The Gelgeton viscounts?"

The moment she heard it, an old memory surfaced unbidden in Claire's mind.

The Gelgeton viscounts...

A particular day came back to her.

It was the Gelgeton estate she'd sent Flora to, telling her to go look after her health — the girl did nothing but whine and wilt, after all. But the instant Flora returned, Karsein had sworn he would never go out with her again.

Not only that — that day, Karsein had reprimanded not just Flora, but Arina and Mother Isabella too, all three of them.

And after that, as I recall, Karsein was laid up in bed for a whole day, so I called for Shayden...

She couldn't say for certain the Gelgeton estate was to blame, but she found herself unable to shake the thought: could it happen again?

"Arina. Where's the villa holding that tea party?"

"Hm? You're going too, Claire? The invitation will be a problem, though?"

"I'm not going to play. I just... something about the two of them being sent off alone doesn't sit right with me."

"With nothing but nobles there, there'd be hardly anything to worry about unless Karsein caused a scene... All right, then. Go. Honestly, it puts my mind at ease having you there."

"Okay. I'm off, Arina."

It was nothing but a baseless worry, and yet somehow, her gut told her it wasn't good.

"Things seem awfully gloomy around here — shall we change the subject to something a bit lighter?"

"Yes, let's!"

With Karsein seated among them, the nobles' anxieties had melted away, and they now set about steering the conversation elsewhere, as if determined to lift the mood of the tea party.

"I trust you don't mind either, Lord Karsein?"

Pitea asked, half inviting, half prompting.

"Of course not."

The moment he agreed, the corners of Pitea's mouth twitched.

She was no doubt grinding her teeth behind that smile, vowing to repay him slowly and thoroughly. He could see exactly where this was headed.

And that was precisely why he wouldn't retreat.

After all, there was a way to break straight through the front — it just hadn't arrived yet.

"Well then, since everyone's in agreement, we ought to put forward a fresh topic, shouldn't we? Now, what shall it be?"

As Pitea feigned deliberation and flashed a signal, once again one of her accomplices stepped forward.

"Here's the hottest topic of the day, Lady Pitea."

"The hottest topic?"

"Yes. The Eastern Noble Conference is about to convene — how could we possibly let that go unmentioned?"

"Oh my, you're quite right."

As the two young ladies drummed up their rehearsed lines in a well-worn duet, the moment he'd anticipated arrived.

Since this was treated as a main episode, choices had appeared — but they weren't the truly crucial part, the root of this episode.

The big, decisive choice would come from somewhere else. And it seemed this was it.

Betting everything on it, they'll start pontificating about what qualifies a noble and try to lay hands on the Rusmayer Territory.

He had already gained the relevant information once through the Memorial, so there was nothing to fear. Better still, he'd already caught them committing a contradiction he could strike back at — so if this unfolded the same way as before, he need only bare his fangs and bite down on the backs of their necks.

Arms crossed, radiating the message that it didn't matter how they came at him, he waited—

And then, out of nowhere, the antechamber door swung open.

"H-hahem. My apologies. There was some trouble with my carriage. Ahem, ahem."

A man hurried in, drenched in sweat.

From all the throat-clearing, it was clear he knew he was late — he looked thoroughly sheepish.

Come to think of it, one seat had been empty all along.

His own number had originally been thirty, but even before that, someone whose number had been called had never appeared. In fact, there was still one more vacant seat here in the room.

So that's Hemnon Modric — that bastard?

How should he put it? An exquisitely fitting outcome.

The people of Rusmayer would be utterly delighted to learn of this.

And of course, he had no reason whatsoever to pass up something like this either.

"A noble who can't even manage basic punctuality to a promised engagement. It seems someone's etiquette education was rather lacking, doesn't it?"

In that instant, the tea party room went as cold and still as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over the whole gathering.