A Belated Birthday Gift (6)
"That comes to exactly right. With what the young lady paid added in, it's a perfect match."
The merchant, who had been hinting at throwing us out over fears the money would fall short, snapped right back into his sniveling huckster persona and closed the deal.
And yet, even with the transaction complete, my conscience sat uneasily.
I had followed the same course of events as the game and made the best preparations possible—but even so, the fact that I hadn't paid for all of it out of my own pocket left a sour taste behind.
Camilla, after all, was working at the ducal estate to cover the cost of her sick mother's medicine. The fact that a woman so notoriously sensitive about money had stepped in to cover part of the bill for me—that was what kept snagging on my mind, over and over.
"All wrapped up for you. Anything else you be needing?"
"No."
What answer could possibly come from thinking about it any longer?
Right. Time to head back for now.
I had no idea what had possessed her to chip in part of the money, but in the game, the Dead Triggers tied to Camilla had clung on with vicious tenacity right up to the very end. Which meant caution was warranted.
▶ The Episode IV Outing Branch is now in progress! ◀
▶ Ride your horse and return to the Bagrand Ducal Estate. ◀
Either way, prying into it could wait.
The status window itself was telling me to get moving. A glance around showed the sun was on the verge of setting. Whatever the circumstances, I needed to get out of here fast.
Between the dimming sun and the sunset slowly unveiling itself across the sky, I said nothing—I only gripped the reins and flicked them.
By the time the sun had sunk completely and the last of the glow had faded, Camilla and I were finally able to reenter the ducal estate.
She had stayed quiet the entire ride, and even now she hadn't said a word. Honestly, I'd expected her to speak up first.
"Thank you."
When I helped her onto the horse. When I helped her down.
Apart from expressions of thanks like this one, not a single word of conversation had passed between us.
Is something brewing here?
As long as her master, Karsein, held her leash, this could very well become an opening for a counterattack.
If we each held leverage over the other, there was even room to negotiate. That was exactly why I had moved in advance to prepare for this situation... and yet.
She had remained stubbornly silent all the way to the ducal estate by carriage, and only when the carriage driver finished at the stable and moved off did she finally speak up.
"I'll carry the parcels straight in, my lord. Please go on ahead."
"No need. It's hardly a hardship to carry them myself."
"You—you must be tired. It would be better to go in and rest right away, wouldn't it?"
"...I'm not tired from running a single errand to one place."
"Still, I think it would look improper if you didn't have a servant handle this sort of thing, my lord."
Camilla's behavior was odd, somehow. For someone simply carrying the goods inside, she seemed awfully restless.
You must be tired, so you should go rest first. It would look improper without a servant to do it.
Camilla wasn't the type to flatter with honeyed words, even if she did seem to be tiptoeing around my mood.
Which means...
I turned the thought over in my head.
Come to think of it, Camilla may have been showing signs of this for a while now.
Every Dead Trigger entangled with her had carried its own hidden story behind it—so there had to be some telltale sign lurking in her reactions. Just as there had been in the game.
Then the weak point is figuring out when I saw that foreshadowing.
I began counting back the moments, one by one.
While picking out the items? While dodging the shopkeeper's gaze? When we arrived at our destination?
No. Not here—there'd been no signs. I had to rewind further back.
So I rolled the memory further back. And further still—until a loaded, meaningful conversation surfaced.
-I don't know where you're headed, but... if you take me with you, I promise it'll help.
-The driver seemed to be keeping watch on your movements, my lord.
That was it—the moment she'd asked me to take her along while warning me about the driver's surveillance.
With my memory reeled back that far, Camilla's intent came into rough focus.
She wants me to leave this place quickly. Before I run into whoever ordered her to report on me.
All the more reason not to budge from this spot.
"Where have you been off gallivanting until this late hour, Lord Karsein Bagrand?"
A favorable battle is one you have no reason to run from in the first place.
Once Episode III—the finale of Claire's Coming-of-Age Ceremony—wraps up, Karsein is generally given two branching paths.
The branch that leads to the Training Grounds, and the Outing Branch.
Either way, this is where genuine choices finally open up for Karsein.
Choosing the former raises Arina's Intimacy. It's a branch that builds the perception that Karsein is atoning for his past deeds, and it can positively influence not just Arina but Dead Triggers that emerge later as well.
The drawback, though, is the penalty: cleaning the Training Grounds. The time wasted is painful enough, and considering the state of Karsein's body, it would be quite the ordeal.
In the current playthrough, having chosen the latter, Isabella's summons can be ignored. You get to enjoy the legitimate right of a birthday present and move freely for a set period of time.
I chose this route for its advantage—the chance to secure items in advance, like now... but the penalty is meeting Emma and walking straight into a crisis.
If I'd come back a little earlier, I could have avoided her entirely, but there was the matter of time spent making the contract with Harnie, and playing the lover meant I was reluctant to rush back too soon.
So this penalty was simply unavoidable.
"Even with age, my lord, you haven't changed a bit. To think you'd stay out roaming until the sun has nearly set. I truly cannot fathom why you insist on choosing nothing but the most reckless of behaviors."
Emma, as if she'd been lying in wait, pounced on my conduct the moment I returned from my outing.
"Pfft."
"Wh-what was that just now...! Are you laughing at me?!"
The absurdity of it had made me laugh out loud, outright. Her pride stung, Emma's face twisted itself into an ugly scowl as she flew into a tirade.
And through all of it, the choices still hadn't appeared, had they.
Every time I heard that line, I'd swallowed down the same silent retort: who do you think you are? And with no choice options on screen, this was the perfect moment to let it out.
"Still got that stiff back, Emma?"
"...!"
In that instant, Emma's swaggering face flooded with panic.
The flustered look lasted only a moment. This time she bowed stiffly at the waist and answered—getting my name right this time, title and family name attached and everything.
She clearly had zero desire to repeat her earlier blunder; the sight of her snapping into a rigid bow and enunciating every syllable with exaggerated care was, frankly, rather comical.
It must have been a bitter humiliation. A woman who held the honored post of Head Maid of the Bagrand Ducal House, forced to put an apology in her mouth to a discarded stray from the slums.
An experience she'd never, ever want to live through twice, I was sure.
Having finished her bow, Emma clenched her teeth and mounted her counterattack.
"As Head Maid of this ducal house, I must ask why you left the estate without permission, my lord. Why did you do it? Was this, too, an attempt to curry favor with the Madam?"
"Hm? Leaving without permission, you say. What on earth do you mean? Did the nobility of the Pecellos Empire ever have a custom of needing a head maid's approval just to step outside?"
When I challenged her to name even one example, Emma flinched and faltered. Her expression soured so badly I could see plainly how her pride had been bruised.
But her stammering panic lasted only a heartbeat.
"As if such a thing could exist! How could I, of all people, presume to grant or deny your outings, my lord? However—had you wished to go out, my lord, you should have sought Lady Arina's permission."
Because, you see, she has something to lean on.
-Ding!
This is precisely where the choice options pop up, right on cue.
Whichever way you slice it, the whole setup is absurd—there's no denying that—but lunging at Emma in a fit of emotion would be the stupidest move possible.
Which meant I had to flip this board first, nice and smooth.
Using the same innocence-proving gambit I always had.
"That's news to me. Why would I need Arina's permission to go outside?"
"Every one of your outings, my lord, has always required the eldest lady's approval. Do you happen not to remember?"
Apparently convinced she'd regained the upper hand, Emma pressed on with her chest puffed out again.
"And not just within the ducal house. At the Training Grounds, on the day of the eldest lady's Coming-of-Age Ceremony, in the territory you ruined—the same, every time. And on top of all that, after the trouble you caused, you were placed under restrictions on going out, were you not?"
She wasn't wrong.
Back then, Karsein really had been under constant restrictions on leaving. Even at gatherings where the whole family was required to attend, guards had been posted to keep careful watch so he was never left alone.
But this was nothing more than a flimsy deception.
That's exactly why I'd stayed in this room with such certainty.
Certainly. Without a single contradiction.
Because I had a way to snap Emma's argument clean in two.
Now then—time to dangle the bait, shall we?
"If my outings were restricted, then it would be perfectly natural for word of it to reach my ears through Camilla first. And I never heard any such thing."
"Well now. Could it be that you've simply forgotten, my lord?"
"Ah, so I forgot? Even though Camilla brought it up herself?"
"Even setting that aside, you've always had lies on your tongue. Perhaps you lied about forgetting."
"Then what if I went out for some other reason?"
"My lord. Forgive me, but what other reason could there possibly be for your going out? Run along to the eldest lady and grovel nicely, won't you?"
Emma took the bait I'd cast—and took it beautifully.
Not twice, but three times. She had most definitely chomped down hard.
"Isn't this a bit much, Emma? I went out for a genuinely important reason, and now I'm supposed to beg Arina for forgiveness over it?"
At that, the hovering choices vanished entirely—and someone hurriedly cut into the conversation.
"Karsein, you have to beg Arina? What is that supposed to mean?"
"L-Lady Claire!"
Welcome back, Pink Hair. Been a while.
My position here is decidedly unfavorable. Karsein's outings, for any number of reasons, drew hostile eyes at the ducal estate.
Drawing his sword and charging at knights who insulted him, for instance.
Or causing an uproar after being insulted by a maid within the estate itself.
Or knocking down a nobleman in that fleeting moment at Arina's Coming-of-Age Ceremony.
Or being buried under report after report and formal petition for bankrupting a territory's economy.
The mere fact of his stepping away or leaving the grounds carried with it the entrenched conviction that Karsein would stir up trouble yet again.
With misdeeds to point to in spades, and the belief rooted deep that who knew what havoc he'd wreak out beyond the walls, his position was unendingly disadvantageous.
Faced head-on against Emma, then, it would be a hundred battles and a hundred defeats. No matter which choice I picked, there was no dodging the loss of my family's Intimacy.
But if the number of listening ears grows, this whole story changes.
Right, Emma?
The moment I answered her flinch with nothing but a look, Emma's complexion deteriorated rapidly.
"Tell me what's going on. What are you two fighting about?"
Goodness. I'd despised Claire for serving up nothing but bad endings—and yet right now, she had never been more reassuring.
Thanks to the Intimacy I'd carefully managed in advance, every single choice option was a good one.
I answered with a theatrical little shrug.
"The head maid here tells me that since I left without permission, I ought to grovel to Arina for it."
"Hmm. So that's what this is about."
Stroking her chin, her gaze swinging between me and Emma, Claire spoke.
"Well, you have caused plenty of trouble before, so it's fair to raise the issue. That one's on you, though."
"So. Your point being that I should go grovel to Arina?"
"No, that's not it. You just need to say what you went out for, and it'll be fine. If you'd caused trouble somewhere, a letter would reach the estate by tomorrow anyway."
At those words, Emma's face drained chalk-white.
Mine, meanwhile, could barely keep the grin off it.
"So? What did you go out for, exactly?"
An opportunity like this could never be passed up.
"A birthday present."
"What?"
"Mother granted me permission to go out as my birthday present."
Claire's eyes wavered violently.
"Wh-what are you talking about? A birthday present?"
"Oh, right. You wouldn't know, would you?"
And to Claire, now stammering her way into confusion, I twisted the knife one more time with a smirk.
"My birthday is December 31st."
In that instant, the light drained from Claire's eyes.