House Aeperos (2)
Nobility.
Commoners look up at those who belong to that class, envy them to the point of madness, and beyond that, even revere them.
They say nobles are born noble from the very cradle, that even their bloodlines arrive in this world blessed.
And it wasn't an entirely wrong thing to say.
After all, to be born the child of a brilliant general who led wars to victory, a hero who purged the land of monstrous beasts, or a mage who uncovered the truths of the world—well, that truly would be a blessing.
But not every noble received such a blessing.
At the very least, Harnie would have put it differently.
"Is there anything you can do perfectly? Anything at all!"
That was what Harnie heard from the Marquis every single time she failed to meet his expectations.
Everything she did was lacking.
Nothing she did was of any use.
Wouldn't she go and disgrace the family's honor?
From her earliest childhood, the Marquis's abuse had pounded into her ears until calluses formed on them.
"Remember this, Harnie. Even if you are not of this family's true blood, I took you in to prove you had some use to me. At the very least, you must not become a shackle around Belian's ankles, must you not?"
Each time, all Harnie could do was bow her head and murmur an apology.
When she was young, she truly believed it was her own fault.
She had lived her whole life being told she fell short compared to the other young ladies, so she came to genuinely believe she was deficient.
Just as he said—she was not the legitimate daughter, only an illegitimate child.
So she thought she ought to know better than anyone how to make up for what she lacked.
Even when she was treated differently from the others in the Marquisate, she paid it no mind.
She believed that she, and her own insufficiency, were the problem.
And so, she studied harder.
She studied harder, if only to earn recognition.
Desperate to be praised like Belian was, she spared no effort whatsoever.
Years passed this way, and at long last she accomplished something that genuinely benefited the family—so much so that the household's title rose from Count to Marquis.
This time, Harnie thought, surely Father will acknowledge me.
No. She was certain of it.
She had done something worthy of nothing but praise.
She never once doubted that her father would grant her, his daughter, at least a single word of approval.
And yet.
"Don't get so full of yourself over such a small achievement, Harnie. You were merely lucky, weren't you? Belian would have accomplished the same thing half a year sooner!"
What came back to her was a single, heartlessly indifferent remark.
And a reprimand she could not possibly understand.
Was even that much effort not enough?
Was even that much not satisfactory?
No. That wasn't it at all.
From deep inside the Marquisate's trash bin, Harnie happened upon a single examination paper.
The moment she laid eyes on it, she knew exactly what it was.
It belonged to the eldest son, Belian Theresia.
"H-haha..."
The moment she registered two facts, a hollow laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
The first was that the paper bore an abysmal score—riddled with errors, so poor it couldn't even be compared to her own.
The second was that Belian, with those very results, had still been praised by the Marquis. Well done.
How could laughter not bubble up, bitter and unbidden?
That temperature difference between them came down, in the end, to a single reason.
Legitimate blood, and illegitimate child.
Though both were nobles, there were those who enjoyed everything and those who did not—and the line was drawn exactly there.
Even as it tormented her, Harnie accepted that cruel reality with wide-open eyes.
That there was no place for her in this family.
That she was not the Marquis's daughter, but merely an illegitimate child to be used up and discarded.
That from the very beginning, she had never been treated as family at all.
After that day, she no longer had any intention of helping the Marquisate.
And so her achievements declined compared to before, and the duties she had once carried began to falter.
Whereupon the Marquis, with the Eastern Noble Conference drawing near, coldly ordered Harnie to attend a certain gathering.
"Did I not tell you? Your accomplishments were nothing more than a stroke of luck. So this time, go and learn—learn well, so that you do not drag the Marquisate's dignity through the mud at the Eastern Noble Conference!"
That was the reason Harnie had come to sit in this place.
Do not disgrace your own family's honor.
Support will be provided, so show off your skills like before and do something useful for the Marquisate.
That was how it could be read.
"Now that Lady Harnie has joined us as well, shall we begin without further ado?"
─Yes, of course!
The moment the light greetings ended, the conversation began in earnest.
"What is everyone's take on this conference? It does feel a little unusual compared to last year, doesn't it?"
The topic, naturally enough, was the Eastern Noble Conference.
For nobles all preparing to sit the Crown's examination under the name of a "conference," it was the most natural subject of small talk imaginable.
And yet, for all that a great test loomed before them, none of the women gathered here seemed particularly anxious.
"Ah, you mean because we cannot borrow the strength of our family heads?"
"I hardly see that it warrants any concern at all."
"Neither do I. All this fuss seems excessive. We've learned quite a bit ourselves, after all."
"Every one of us has received a proper education as nobles. I'm sure we'll be fine."
The young ladies sang from the same hymn sheet, tittering away as though it were nothing at all.
That topic soon sank beneath the surface again.
And straightaway, another rose in its place.
"Speaking of which, couples whose courtships led to engagements find it so convenient to help one another at times like these, don't they?"
"Indeed. It's an enormous advantage, isn't it?"
"All the more useful this time around, I'd say."
The advantage of having a fiancé—of being in a committed relationship.
It was certainly more favorable than facing the examination alone.
But the reason they had raised this particular topic just now was something else entirely.
"And what about you, Lady Harnie? For this Eastern Noble Conference, where one can't even borrow the family's strength, I hear it's quite reassuring to have a lover looking after you. But your fiancé can't look after you at all, can he?"
Yes. That was exactly the remark they'd been waiting to unleash.
A stooge chimed in on cue.
"Oh my, oh my. Whyever would he be unable to look after you? Is he truly so indifferent? I'd thought the two of you were rather close, from what one sees at the banquet hall."
"Lest there be any misunderstanding, allow me to correct that—the two of them are deeply devoted to one another."
"Then why ever not?"
A smile curved at the corner of someone's lips.
"Your fiancé is none other than Prince Karsein, after all—the man who failed so spectacularly at territorial management. The Shame of Shatren, remember?"
The answer carried a blade inside every word.
And Lady Heli, as though she'd been waiting for exactly this moment, answered the question herself.
"Well, she does have someone else she could lean on. Even for the Ducal House, it would be one thing if it were the two young ladies—but surely she cannot expect help from Prince Karsein, the man who left that infamous blot called the Shame of Shatren behind him."
"If anything, he might bungle it further just by laying a hand on it. I suppose that's why, then."
"I was worried as well, so I asked the Ducal House whether Prince Karsein would be coming. The only answer I got back was no."
"He cannot afford to touch it. Yes, that must be the correct way to see it."
With Lady Heli at their head, they began to air Karsein's flaws at every opportunity.
"At this point, I'd say she's walked herself onto a very shaky rope indeed."
"She'll hardly manage to resolve this one on her own either, will she? I hear the work she's handling now keeps failing to produce results."
"Lady Harnie, just say the word. I'll introduce you to a fine gentleman. It's not as though there's only one or two men in the world."
"As it happens, there's a rumor going around that the Marquis himself has taken a dislike to Prince Karsein. Seems like rather a good pretext for arranging a new engagement, don't you think?"
At those words, Harnie bit down hard on her lip.
So that was what this was really about.
She had wondered why the Marquis would send her here merely to waste time—but he had woven this scheme to engineer a broken engagement with Karsein.
She could not sit back and simply absorb the blow.
A simple rebuttal won't be enough, most likely. If I push back carelessly, it'll only harm Prince Karsein... I have to end this with my own hands, before any worse rumors can spread.
But at the very moment Harnie steeled herself to answer—
"Is it certain, then, that the Marquis has taken a dislike to me?"
"Wha—who dares to barge in here like—hup!"
"I've never once received a formal letter severing the engagement. The bond between my fiancée and me remains perfectly intact. So tell me—why is it that I've never heard a word of this 'news' myself?"
The most ideal scenario imaginable had unfolded: Karsein himself had appeared.
—Scrape.
One more chair slid up to the round table.
A man took his seat.
And not just any man—the very subject they had been tearing apart moments ago.
"You don't mind if I join you, do you? I never received an invitation myself, but this hardly seems like a gathering I'd be unwelcome at, all things considered."
"That is... um..."
"What? Is there a problem?"
What more could possibly be said?
They had claimed an invitation had been sent—which meant the man originally expected to attend had arrived. They could hardly tell him to leave, protesting that he wasn't a guest they'd summoned.
The young ladies had no choice but to admit Karsein to their circle.
He settled into his chair and crossed one leg over the other.
"Now then, shall we pick up where we left off? Let's see... something about how far from helping Harnie, I might well ruin things for her, so she'd best resolve it alone?"
"...!"
The young ladies' breath caught in their throats all at once.
He had heard everything.
"And that wasn't all, was it? That I'd walked onto a shaky rope. That my fiancée couldn't handle this on her own, so she ought to find another man. That there are plenty of men in the world, so they'd be happy to introduce a good one—oh, and I should take that as my pretext, should I? Listening to it all laid out like that, I must say, I'm rather impressed."
Karsein shifted, crossing his legs the other way.
And even as he did, he turned toward Harnie with a faint, sardonic smile.
"Harnie. What say you? Am I truly such a distasteful man?"
This was, unmistakably, a cue to play along—not an intrusion at all.
Given a proper opening to respond and even the floor handed to her, Harnie found she could answer with far greater ease than before.
"No, you are not."
"Then do you believe I would be a hindrance to you at this conference?"
"I have never once thought so. I know perfectly well that you are a man who keeps his word and his honor."
"And this notion that you've walked onto a shaky rope?"
"Even setting aside the House of Bagrand, I have never regretted meeting you. And in the first place, I never intended to solve anything by leaning on someone else's help."
"And my supposed lack of competence? No doubt such talk could easily take an ugly turn."
"Even if my fiancé were lacking, there would be no reason for it to devolve into ugly gossip. Every noble faces the Crown's examination fairly and on equal footing. Besides—I believe you never truly know how long or short a rope is until you've walked it yourself."
Whatever question came at them, the two wove their answers together in perfect rhythm.
Always toward the interpretation that favored them both.
Always so that flaws and weaknesses remained veiled.
They traded questions and answers back and forth, ensuring that nothing spread as denial, distortion, or slander.
And with every question that piled up, the nobles' expressions hardened a little further.
"So, in sum—this entire matter is false, and it amounts to nothing more than an inflated rumor. Is that correct?"
"Yes. That is precisely how I see it as well."
Harnie replied with a serene, graceful smile.
—Thud!
A heavy impact struck the table.
"Let me summarize, then. Lady Harnie appears to have no intention whatsoever of breaking our engagement. Indeed, no such letter has ever arrived from the Marquisate. And yet, it seems there are parties spreading strangely inflated rumors to slander us? Parties, say, very much like the ones sitting before me right now."
"Th-that is not slander!"
"We would never dream of such a thing!"
"Oh? Then it isn't slander? And where, precisely, do you lot find the standing to pry so into the affairs between the House of Bagrand and another family?"
"We were only worried for Lady Harnie's sake..."
At that, Harnie stepped forward herself, without hesitation.
"Why, exactly, would you worry about me? You are all just as much under examination as I am—so remind me, who was it that brought up finding me a new fiancé before she even knew how her own results would turn out?"
"This goes beyond slandering Bagrand. Frankly, it borders on outright contempt."
At those words, the young ladies blanched and began stammering vague excuses.
The moment the conversation had shifted from Harnie's situation to her rumored romance with Karsein—to the House of Bagrand itself—they had overstepped, badly.
"If I hear talk like this drifting into my ears again, I'll have no choice but to start questioning whoever organized this little gathering. Wouldn't you agree, Lady Heli?"
"...!"
Karsein moved to Harnie's side and took her hand, deliberately conjuring the tender air of a devoted couple.
"Shall we, then? To think they were whispering such suspicions about us. I'm sorry I couldn't look after you more."
In that instant, Harnie's whole body gave a start and trembled.
Why on earth are you doing this?
S-shush, quiet.
How could anyone just say things like that? Even she had no immunity to such saccharine lines.
And yet—for Harnie, this was the perfect pretext she needed to walk out of this place.
"We'll be going now. It seems I must set aside some time for my fiancé—the very man you all seem so suspicious of."
And so the two of them left the café, hands intertwined with unmistakable tenderness.
To any onlooker, they were the very picture of young lovers, hopelessly smitten.
—Crack.
Somewhere, a woman's teeth ground together.
—Ding!
▶ The rumors that had been circling in the shadows have been put to rest. ◀
▶ Your Recognition score is rising. ◀
[ Recognition at ??? : +30 ]
...I only crashed the party to blow off some steam.
He didn't know what the ??? stood for, but either way, there seemed to be nothing bad about it.
More importantly, it was about time someone said something. They'd put a fair distance between themselves and the café by now.
"It seems everything worked out rather nicely, all things considered?"
"Hm? Ah—yes."
"I believe I'm owed an explanation or two."
At that, Harnie let out a long, deep sigh.
"It seems the Marquis staged this whole affair to force a broken engagement with you. Since you're of the Ducal House of Bagrand, he can't simply sever the marriage on a whim—but he must have reasoned that if he could drag out your vulnerabilities, he'd have his pretext for calling the engagement off."
"Hm. So that's why all that talk of engagements with other men kept surfacing. Quite the scheme they had in mind."
"More importantly—are you going to be all right? If word of this reaches the Ducal House..."
"No problem there. It won't be reaching them anytime soon."
"Wh-what?!"
Harnie's eyes went round with astonishment.
"C-can you really do that? However you look at it, they're still your family..."
"If I show my face, they're bound to spew their filth. There's hardly any need to march over there and take that abuse head-on, is there?"
This was never a question of could or couldn't.
In moments like these, staying clear of the house was simply the wiser course.
"...I suppose you're right. There'd be nothing in it for you but ugly words."
Exactly. Walking back to your family just to get an earful of abuse was a fool's errand—he was far better off not making that particular mistake.
"Karsein, then where will you be staying tonight?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"You said you weren't returning to the Ducal House. Which means you must have somewhere to stay. Don't you?"
Well—yes, he did, but...
"...And why, exactly, are you asking me that?"
Harnie answered with a bright, mischievous smile.
"Because I'm going to follow you, of course."