Claire's Coming-of-Age Ceremony (8)

The affinity system, generally speaking, had two uses.

The first was to unlock predetermined episodes. Once you built up a certain amount of intimacy with a character, you gained the ability to take additional actions through sub-episodes.

The second was to receive indirect help clearing episodes—hints about where a Memorial was hidden, nudges toward the right dialogue choices, that sort of thing, casually tossed your way.

In other words, either way, the affinity mechanic existed to slightly ease the difficulties a player ran into while progressing through an episode.

So naturally, it was always better to raise affinity with any character, and in practice I had played by doing exactly that—raising intimacy with as many characters as I could in pursuit of better choices.

But Heron was a difficult case when it came to that kind of grinding.

His affinity box existed, yet no matter the circumstances, Heron's affinity almost never budged. That was precisely what made his type the hardest category to handle.

He seemed to know a great deal, but the game's systems alone could never win him over. No matter how many times I failed and tried again, the old butler remained unmoved.

Absolute neutrality.

A man standing on a line that took no one's side.

A stone of a man who could not be pulled into your camp by any means.

The affinity mechanic barely worked on him at all.

Which was why I expected him to push back on what I'd just said.

My promise not to cause trouble and my demand for information about Claire's ceremony and the banquet were contradictory, after all. Handing those things over to me would only make it more likely that I'd ruin the ceremony spectacularly, so from Heron's standpoint, he had every reason to block the request.

'I know it's a contradiction. That's exactly why I think an exchange is the best option here.'

That was why I'd left my question hanging earlier instead of pressing him for an answer right away.

Each of us holding one thing we'd rather not answer—a way to clear the air of suspicion.

"One moment, please."

But after a brief hesitation, Heron left the room without raising a single objection. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠What's more, he returned shortly afterward carrying everything I had asked for.

'What?'

Nothing was missing.

The ceremony pamphlet, of course, along with a detailed schedule, a floor plan of the interior, even the guard deployment chart—all of it exactly as I remembered seeing it in the game.

"Is there anything else you require?"

"This is more than enough."

Having finished his business, Heron made no attempt to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cross the line any further. Perhaps the reason he hadn't even asked the one question he could ask was that same restraint.

He'd left himself no room to be pinned down.

'This man is never an easy opponent, as expected.'

But he hadn't fully dispelled his own doubts either, because he asked something else.

"Young Master. Might this old man ask you one thing?"

"What is it?"

"Do you... by any chance hate the Vagrand Ducal House?"

Whether I hated the ducal house.

I had no idea what thread of connection had led him to that question, but this one was easy to answer.

What change would those words bring about?

How would they affect the main episode?

I honestly couldn't say.

Right now, my own feelings as Kim Minhyuk—my refusal to give this family even a shred of affection—were pushing their way to the front.

Once my conversation with Heron ended, the game slowly reached the scene I knew so well.

Karsein, waiting alone in his room as the sun sank lower and lower outside.

Claire's ceremony had to be nearing its final stretch by now.

I looked at the choice window once more.

"Haah. So there's really no dodging this, huh."

The third option—the wait-and-see choice—was gone. Meaning there was no putting it off any longer.

I had actually kept watching for a while, wondering if some clever little trick during this window of free movement might make the choice window disappear, but in the end it played out exactly as I remembered from the game.

"Well. I already figured as much."

After finishing with Heron, I'd turned the problem over in my head and arrived at a rough estimate.

First, the second sister I remembered had a personality very similar to Claire's. Just like on her birthday, if I failed to attend the ceremony, there was no way Claire would let it slide with her temperament.

In fact, if that somehow became possible, my affinity with her would likely plummet. In the worst case, some dead trigger I didn't even know about could fire.

Attending the ceremony was, in effect, a predetermined step.

Still, it wasn't as if I'd shown up without any plan at all.

-Click.

I'd summoned Camilla to relay word that I was going to the ceremony. When she stepped into the room and saw me, her face twisted into an expression of pure disbelief.

"Young Master, you're... you're surely not planning to go like that?"

"Why? Is there a problem?"

"N-No. There's nothing wrong with the clothes themselves, but... this is the Vagrand Ducal House's banquet, after all..."

I knew what she meant.

But.

"I don't exactly have anything else to wear, do I?"

There was a perfectly clear reason for it. Thanks to the Kelvia fruit, Karsein's proper clothes had been deliberately ruined—this was all I could put on.

"The young ladies will most certainly have something to say about it."

"I know. If I show up looking like this, I'll only smear the name of the ducal house. Is that it?"

At those words, Camilla's eyes lit up.

"Then... you are planning to change into different clothes for the banquet hall, aren't you?"

"No? Why would I?"

"...What? But Young Master, you just said—"

"I'm going exactly like this. Of course, like I mentioned before—as long as I don't smear the ducal house's name, that's all that matters, isn't it?"

It had to sound absurd. I'd just told her I was walking into the banquet in an outfit that was an insult to the ducal house, yet I had no intention of changing into anything else.

Camilla tilted her head as if she couldn't possibly have heard me right—then, within moments, it clicked, and her jaw dropped. She couldn't even bring herself to voice the thought, covering her mouth with her palm instead.

And yet she couldn't talk me out of it. The clothes meant for the party were already ruined beyond wearing, and even if she called a designer right now, I had no intention of allowing it.

Ordinarily, dressing up for an occasion like this devoured hours on end, which was precisely why this stretch of time should have been painfully tight. But with such a plain servant's uniform, it wouldn't take long at all.

That saved time—that was what I intended to spend goofing off.

"Is there anything left to do today?"

"Ah, that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is..."

Camilla hesitated, and her faltering made it clear she intended to stay with me a while longer.

It was a special day.

For Claire, the second princess of House Bagrand, who greeted the coming of the new year and her nineteenth birthday in the same breath, tonight could not possibly be anything but blessed.

Distinguished guests would pour in from across the land to celebrate the lady come of age, trading pleasantries and presenting gifts through a bustling, lively day.

And yet, on this ceremony she had looked forward to with everything she had, Claire's expression was far from bright.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.

She should have been savoring her hours of celebration as the undisputed star of the evening.

Instead, a strange sensation lingering in her palm kept circling back to haunt her.

"..."

Claire spread her right hand open and stared at it. The hand that had slapped Karsein across the cheek at the dinner table.

-My, how unfair this all is. I didn't do a single thing wrong.

She had thought her feelings on the matter were settled—then he'd gone and shocked her, abandoning even the dining etiquette he'd been drilled in so thoroughly, tearing into his meat like some wild beast.

She had shouted at him to stop, but when he shamelessly carried himself as though he bore no fault whatsoever, her hand had moved before she could stop it.

And yet—the source of all that commotion had not been Karsein.

-I apologize for being a vulgar, filthy creature. A thing like me is better off not showing its face at a coming-of-age ceremony, isn't it?

-Things I can't stand to look at get thrown out first. Enjoy your meal, everyone.

That voice—Karsein's voice, blood seeping from one cheek because of the rough hand she'd laid on him—had echoed through Claire's head without end.

"..."

"Lady Claire? Lady Claire?"

The guest who had come seeking her called her name a few more times, but she only hung her head as though her soul had left her body, and at last Arina, unable to watch any longer, stepped in.

"Claire."

"Ah."

Only after a hand settled on her shoulder and a few quiet warnings did she come back to herself. The people around her were already lined up, waiting their turn.

"These are the guests who came to celebrate you. You need to stay with us."

She hadn't even noticed the ceremony end while that brief thought consumed her.

"...I'm so sorry."

"Heh heh. It happens. They say it's a common reaction in children ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first crossing into adulthood. Lady Claire is no different, and I find it rather endearing."

"We were just debating what our own daughter might do, you know. Please don't fret over it."

They laughed and wrapped the whole thing up as a minor slip.

It had been an unmistakable breach of etiquette. Drifting off into her own thoughts while guests waited on her one after another was grounds for a scolding and then some.

Yet every single one of them glossed over it instead of calling her out.

They weren't particularly close to her, either.

Sons and daughters of other houses she'd met through society—aside from the handful she genuinely got along with, most were little more than passing acquaintances, or people whose names she knew only from business dealings between their families.

Widening the view further, there were plenty—far more than a few—who had never so much as met her face, having come solely to worm their way into the good graces of the ducal house of Bagrand.

Watching even those people scramble to excuse her behavior, Claire's heart grew only more tangled.

Because she could have handled it first—handled it properly—and hadn't. Because she'd lost her temper and struck him. That sensation kept pulsing endlessly through her head and her hand.

'Has Karsein... come?'

She hadn't seen him. Her palm throbbed, and even now, right before the ceremony proper began, there had been no sign of him. Surely he hadn't not come?

'No. That can't be. Mother said she would bring him.'

So she resolved to believe it and keep waiting, trading small talk with the guests as she did.

Deciding it was time, I stepped out of the mansion—and a window popped up out of nowhere.

'What's this?'

This was the kind of message you'd occasionally see upon clearing a sub-episode.

But "follow-up matters"?

I had no idea what follow-up matters I'd supposedly dealt with.

All I'd done was step outside the mansion because the timing felt right.

-Hahahaha!

Just as my head was getting complicated, laughter from the nobles spilled out of the banquet hall. Ironically enough, it was that very sound that snapped me back to my senses.

"Whew. Right. This is no time to be fretting over little things like that."

A main episode was running—if I let myself get distracted now, it could be a straight road to the underworld.

For starters, when it came to choices that popped up here, avoiding the obvious routes was generally the wiser play. The reason was simple enough.

Karsein was not a noble.

In a hall packed with aristocrats from every corner of the empire, the presence of Karsein—a boy fished out of the slums—was a single, glaring stain.

Watching a lowborn thing stand tall among those of noble blood was said to twist the insides of the high and mighty something fierce.

Not coming at all would have been the best option, of course, but refusing to attend led directly to a death ending, so there was no choice but to set foot inside.

And once inside, the ceremony episode would properly begin...

-Look at this little bastard? You dare play at being a noble, you?

-Even if the maids scrubbed day and night to wash away your past, that filthy blood of yours won't come off, you idiot!

The moment Claire's ceremony ended, the nobles of his own age would swarm in, provoking Karsein and picking fights.

'And Karsein, unable to hold back his rage, beats them down. Add a well-crafted lie on top of that, and good and evil are sorted nice and neatly—against him.'

And that would be the worst outcome. Public opinion was never going to favor Karsein.

'Absolutely not. Not now.'

When I'd first encountered this episode, I'd wondered whether there might be a way to stick close to one particular family member from the ceremony all the way through the banquet.

The plan sprang from a simple thought: if the nobles carelessly insulted Karsein while one of the other Bagrands stood right beside him, they'd effectively be insulting a second Vagrand to their face—and they wouldn't dare.

And it had actually worked. It was the single most effective choice in the game.

But I was no longer in a position where I could pick that option—or should pick it.

Because of what had happened just a few hours ago.

The wall of the Kelvia allergy was a sturdy one, true, but that didn't change the fact that the atmosphere had turned ugly. I'd singled out one of the four and openly wrecked her mood—that was reason enough not to let my guard down.

And most important of all: I had no idea how far the hidden episode's influence reached.

Not knowing how much the story had changed—and in what ways—because of an episode that never appeared in the game was a massive drag on my footing. If I wanted to confirm the branching points and steer things along the route I knew, I had to move with extreme care.

Which meant that for the moment, a second-best option that drew as little attention as possible was all I could manage.

"Hold on. You—who are you?"

Oh... you absolute mad choices.

Both of those would send Karsein's infamy soaring.

I ignored them and waited, reading through every option. I needed to know exactly which branch I'd entered.

Three and four were no different, and by the time I reached option five, I had a rough idea.

"My apologies for the delay. I received an urgent summons and came straight away."

"Hm? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, I know. The urgent summons—that would be the embezzlement investigation, wouldn't it? A few people from the ducal house were sent off to look into whoever's been skimming funds."

"Ah, so this one's part of that group?"

"Exactly. And showing up at this hour means he can't be one of the original staff... newly hired, then? For a new hire, he looks awfully unsteady on his feet."

"Unsteady as I may look, I do get the work done properly."

"Is that so. Well, fair enough—the ducal house doesn't hire people without reason, I suppose."

None of them had any idea what Karsein actually looked like. Which suited me fine. I nodded along here and there, mumbled agreement, and muddled my way through.

"Then there's no need for an inspection. Ahem. Plenty of distinguished guests tonight, so mind yourselves."

"And watch out extra hard if that brat Karsein shows up! If sparks fly your way, we'll all be in real trouble, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

The guards let me through without a flicker of suspicion.

'They saw me just moments ago and not one of them batted an eye? Nice.'

To anyone watching, my current appearance screamed servant, not noble—a plain, simple uniform. Not a shred of doubt to be had.

Besides, I hadn't set foot in here when the ceremony began. I'd deliberately timed my entrance for the transition into the full-blown afterparty and banquet. That way I stayed out of the nobles' line of sight entirely, dodging any friction that might otherwise find me.

Once inside the hall-turned-banquet-space, I could move freely.

'A single brief appearance near the end will be enough to dodge the dead trigger. The real question is, where do I hide...'

The place where Karsein had held out until the banquet ended was painfully obvious—no different from the game, plain as day at a glance.

So then, where does one hide in a hall this vast?

Nobles' eyes, servants' eyes—it didn't matter whose. In a banquet hall this size, there was really only one kind of place to vanish into.

Certain of it, I opened the door.

And then...

-CRASH!

"...?!"

"Ack!"

We collided. With some woman, of all people.