Claire's Coming-of-Age Ceremony (3)

"Just keep your mouth shut, pretend to work, then head out. That way, you'll be able to dodge Claire's suspicion."

"Wh-what? But..."

"Sorry, but you make me deeply uncomfortable. Don't make me say it twice."

She knew better than anyone why she made me uncomfortable. She knew, too, that I'd picked out the best available option for evading Claire's suspicion. And she knew that if she tried any other funny business, even this arrangement might vanish.

After that, Camilla stopped responding altogether.

"Aside from this rag, I could wash the towels you use... would that be all right with you?"

There it was — the last choice.

Once I picked it, the branch for Episode III would be decided before long.

And yet, staring back at me was the very sentence that had bothered me even back when I was playing the game. There was a time I'd grumbled about it out loud: how could anyone extend ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this kind of courtesy to the woman who'd tormented him? So that one was the last thing I wanted to choose.

"Well. If you really want to, go ahead."

After that, Camilla silently washed the two of us' worth of laundry in the bathroom. The washing itself took a good while, but in a way, you could call that quick thinking on her part. She was stalling for time under the pretense of working while simultaneously obeying my order to stay out of my hair. When she came to collect the dishes after I'd finished a simple meal, the anxiety in her expression seemed to have faded considerably.

The status window stayed quiet after that, only reappearing once Camilla had left my room.

"Finally."

In this game, heading straight for the main episode was far better than grinding through extra branches first — and this was exactly that situation. I'd secured the route I wanted, so now it was time to start thinking about the events of the episode proper.

Intimacy carried enormous weight in this game. If the system's Recognition stat reflected the degree of hostility toward Karsein within the duchy and altered my available choices accordingly, then Intimacy magnified that influence enormously — but narrowed its scope dramatically, changing the choices for a single target. So if there was a chance to raise it, raising it was always the right call. All the more so if the person in question held serious influence within the ducal house.

And here came my chance. Since I'd taken the route of refusing a personal maid, this was my opportunity to raise Claire's Intimacy.

But I couldn't jump to conclusions. Raising Intimacy was my goal, yes — but the situation was tangled up with the need to defuse Dead Triggers. If I ever had to choose between the two, I would have to abandon Intimacy without hesitation and kill the Dead Trigger instead.

Having carefully gathered my clothes and dressed, I stepped out of my room.

Let's see... Claire should be in the second-floor library around now, right? I'll head straight there.

But the status window flashed a message as if to say otherwise.

"Huh? She's in the kitchen?"

Why there? Following the story as I remembered it, she was supposed to be reading something in the library at this point... But then again, the progress window never lied about this kind of thing.

The warning popped up the instant I tried to walk the other way. I had no idea why, but the one thing the two paths had in common — going to meet Claire — didn't seem to differ much. So, as instructed, I turned on my heel and headed in the exact opposite direction: the kitchen.

Before long, just as the status window had promised, a head of pink hair came into view. Claire was standing there, staring intently at something in the kitchen.

Seriously? You hand me choices and THIS is what you give me?

Option 3 looked like a straight road to the afterlife, and option 2 looked like a guarantee of getting my jaw rearranged. With the 2% Intimacy I'd earned in advance, I'd half hoped for something a little more palatable, but there didn't seem to be much difference. Was 2% just too negligible to matter?

Letting out a long sigh, I chose option 1.

"What are you doing here?"

"K-Karsein?"

Claire flinched and spun around.

What was that about? All I did was ask what she was doing. Why the hell was she the one startled?

"That's my question — why are you here?"

"This. It's the tableware I dropped when I was sick with that cold. Found it while cleaning, so I brought it back."

"Hah. You're supposed to hand that to a maid. Why are you carrying it yourself?"

"Beats me. Could have something to do with something someone once said?"

Because of what YOU said, that's why.

At my pointed look, Claire downed a whole bowl of water as though her mouth had turned to ash.

"Ugh... fine. Forget it. Just don't bring it up. I won't tell you to use the maids from now on. And..."

She drew a breath.

"It's honey water. I watched every step of it being made right in front of me, so you can drink it without worrying."

Claire held out the cup that had been sitting in front of her.

Wait. What is this. Don't tell me — she's giving this to me to drink?

So THAT was why she was in the kitchen instead of the library?

Unbelievable. The fact that a choice window even popped up meant that was genuinely what she intended.

How did things get so tangled?

I could guess the "correct" answer. If we'd met in the library, she would simply have found and handed me a book that helped with cold recovery, and my Intimacy would have ticked up upon receiving it. In this near-identical scene, I was instead supposed to accept Claire's kindness. If I picked option 2 like a lunatic out of wounded pride, my Intimacy would drop for nothing, and option 3 was just the disappointing choice that squandered a free opportunity.

"Forget the tableware — drink it while it's warm, at least."

But right now, I prioritized managing Dead Triggers over Intimacy. So there was something I needed to say, loud and clear.

"Don't worry about me. The cold's completely gone. But — do you realize that every time you pull this, my position gets even more awkward?"

"I tell you to drink and you start spouting nonsense instead?"

"I'm telling you to leave Camilla alone."

The flicker of curiosity in Claire's eyes at that name frosted over in an instant.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Karsein. You're the victim here, and you're telling me not to suspect the suspect?"

"A suspect, exactly as you said. Someone under suspicion of a crime — not a criminal."

"Don't talk rubbish! That bitch is the most obvious suspect, out in the open where everyone can see her!"

She was right. Naturally, I thought so too. The position of personal maid put Camilla in the perfect spot to torment Karsein. But I said it again anyway.

"I'll say it once more. A suspect is not the criminal. Just a presumed one."

"Don't tell me you're actually taking Camilla's side right now? Have you lost your mind?"

Of course I have. Because if she dies because of you, I die too.

Defusing my Dead Trigger came before even honey water like this. Even if it meant giving up a slice of Intimacy.

"Rigomos leaf extract. Rigomos sap. The stimulant and the stimulant-enhancer, respectively, that went into my desserts. You remember that much, right?"

"Perfect timing, actually! Food, bathwater, even the water in the kettle — fine, I'd believe the other maids did all that. But THIS is the evidence that can single out the culprit!"

"No. It's the opposite. It's actually the grounds for her being innocent."

"What?"

"How would a mere maid — a maid whose movements are restricted, no less — get her hands on materials like that all by herself? And by what means did she keep it hidden from everyone?"

At that question, the ferocity in Claire's glare dimmed a degree.

"Shayden would never give a faulty diagnosis. But we can't confirm Camilla as the ringleader. Someone else must have procured those things for her."

"Do you know who the culprit is, then? Who the hell is it?!"

"I don't know. But tell me — how many people in this duchy do you think hate me?"

"...!!"

Claire fell silent again.

Right. There was no need to count them one by one. It would honestly be faster to tally up the people who showed me kindness instead.

Time to drive the wedge home.

"And that's not the only reason I'm certain it isn't Camilla."

"What else could there possibly be."

"Camilla actually had a solid reputation among the maids — diligent, well-liked. But she carries one enormous burden."

"...You mean the story about how she's drowning in the cost of her sick mother's medicine?"

"That's the one."

Truthfully, I knew very little about Camilla's mother. Other branches' choices handed out bits of information on the subject, but the full details were locked behind following those routes — and a survival-first playthrough never got that far.

The cost of her sick mother's medicine, huh.

One more piece of information gained. I could probably wrap things up with this.

"That maid was thrown into solitary confinement because she fell under suspicion because of me. And after she was finally released and came back as my personal maid — if you keep squeezing her like this, you'll drive away the one maid I actually have. And if that happens, the normal meal I ate today might turn right back into a salted one."

Camilla had brought me a perfectly normal meal today. If Camilla really were the culprit, as Claire insisted, why had today's food not been laced with salt? I threw that back at her as a challenge — explain it, if you can — and Claire went silent for a long moment, as though ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the floor had dropped out from under her. She'd never realized that her own crusade to hunt down the culprit had been cornering Karsein instead.

Even if my reasoning had been laced with lies, it seemed to have landed cleanly.

"Claire."

When I called her name and pressed for an answer, her face twisted and she exploded.

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"Ugh, DAMMIT! Fine! All I have to do is keep my mouth shut, right?!"

"Again — the odds of Camilla being the ringleader are low."

"I SAID I got it! So shut up and drink that already and get out of here, you soft-headed fool!"

I was well used to reactions from hotheads like her. If I hadn't built up my case carefully first, a slap across the face and a scream of quit spouting nonsense would have come flying long ago. But as it was, she'd listened to me all the way to the end.

Which meant it was now my turn to give her what she wanted. Give and take was the best way to deal with a temper like hers.

I downed the honey water, just as Claire had said — but since I'd chosen option 3, my Intimacy shouldn't have budged. Even so, I figured this counted as a pretty decent trade.

While the status window announced the honey water's effects, the displeased edge in Claire's eyes softened, just slightly.

"Hey. You'd better finish every last drop before you go."

"What?"

"My coming-of-age ceremony, obviously. Just try drinking all that and then not showing up on account of being 'sick.' I dare you."

Ah. So that's what she meant.

With the urgent fire put out, I'd actually been racking my brain for a way to skip that ceremony somehow.

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Dammit. Shouldn't have drunk it.

But I knew better than anyone that cursing myself in hindsight was already too late. This game allowed no take-backs.

Reprimanding me in a voice thick with irritation, Claire stalked out of the kitchen, grumbling under her breath the whole way. Just as that pink hair was slipping out of my line of sight—

The status window unfurled with a chime.

Huh?

For a moment, I doubted my own eyes. I was sure I'd chosen option 3?

"Tch!"

Claire, heading out the door, glanced to her right and clicked her tongue, turning her head away. But her eyes never landed on me.

Beneath the automatically-opened status window, a line appeared: I had produced an outcome beyond what the choice itself demanded. No proper reward had been granted yet, since the episode wasn't cleared — but...

I never expected to pull off both.

The Intimacy I'd been prepared to sacrifice in order to kill the Dead Trigger had gone up anyway.

Well. I'd call this plain good luck resolving itself nicely. No — maybe I should say I handled it well because of a similar experience from before? Ah, come to think of it, I did technically accept the honey water, so it might have gone up for that reason.

Plenty of guesses. But I honestly didn't know which one was right. I'd never run into a situation like this in the game, either.

Still — if I caught both rabbits, that's a win, plain and simple.

Claire's footsteps faded steadily into the distance.

But my attention was so thoroughly caught up in the status window that I never noticed the truth: those footsteps had belonged to two people, not one.