Where the Heart Leads (2)

At the mention of a deal, Harnie's eyes went wide.

"You want to make a trade. Now, of all times?"

"What's so strange about that? You're the one who poked at my blind spot."

"..."

"Not that I'm proposing anything sinister. In short: forget what you just saw. That's all."

What good would it do to explain the reason anyway? That I'd been drifting away from that street because of my family. That I'd noticed my family keeping watch over me and deliberately slipped away. That I'd simply been walking to clear my head instead of enjoying the festival with the time I had left. None of it would carry much weight.

But Harnie seemed unwilling to let it go.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

"And why not?"

"Because you're the one who said it. That we're in the same boat. I'm grateful that you, Young Lord Karsein, smoothed things over for me back there—but this is a separate matter, isn't it?"

"Are you trying to say you need to know my situation?"

"Yes. Just as you did for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me, maybe I can help you too."

We were bound by a contract, and helping each other toward our respective goals wasn't such a bad arrangement in principle. But even that had a proper limit.

"I don't judge that to be a particularly wise choice."

"I know. Since ours is a contract engagement, the best course would be for each of us to extract just enough benefit and leave it at that."

"Then why make such a proposal when you understand that perfectly well?"

At those words, Harnie closed her eyes gently and smiled.

"I'm going to go where my heart leads me. You helped me, so I simply want to help you a little more in return. That's all there is to it."

"..."

With that stunning beauty of hers, she beamed and said it once more.

"And if that doesn't sit right with you, then call it a trade. As you yourself put it—we're in the same boat, aren't we?"

So the very words I'd used to persuade her had come sailing right back at me. I had no rebuttal.

But more than that...

I still couldn't get used to this. Being on the receiving end of someone's help.

"This isn't the place for this conversation anyway. Shall we head to the carriage for now?"

Harnie signaled that she was ready to board. It had gotten quite late. I was starting to think it was about time we returned to the ducal estate as well.

"Let's."

And yet, it seemed my time with my fiancée wasn't quite over.

***

With the etiquette that had long since become second nature, I escorted her to the carriage—and this time, I stepped inside with her.

Shortly after the carriage set off, Harnie broke the silence first.

"Shall I go ahead and listen, then? Starting with why you were there."

"Hmm. Then might I have a moment to gather my thoughts?"

"Take your time. It's not as if the ride back to the estate will be short."

It didn't actually take very long. The time I needed wasn't for thinking—it was for tearing myself away from the festival hours with Harnie and facing reality again.

About fifteen seconds. That was plenty.

"First of all, as I'm sure you've already guessed, I didn't come out to enjoy the festival. That's why I was walking in the opposite direction from the festival street."

"I knew it," Harnie murmured, betraying the suspicion she'd been harboring all along.

"As the world knows it, I am not the true bloodline of House Bagrand. Not even a bastard—just a child picked up off the street. Because of that, my standing within the ducal estate is abysmal."

"...No. You can't mean—"

By now, she would be piecing the reason together herself.

"You'll remember what I told you when we made our contract. The purpose of this contract engagement."

"I do... but, that's..."

She stared straight at me with wide, startled eyes. It was the look of someone who couldn't understand—and yet, at the same time, had already glimpsed the shape of an answer too plausible to dismiss.

"Escaping House Bagrand. Spoken plainly like that, it must sound absurd. Why would someone standing atop the pinnacle of the aristocracy—enjoying the greatest power and wealth in the empire after the imperial family itself—walk out of his own accord? Coming from a commoner who used to grovel in the slums, they'd call it outright madness."

And they'd be right. That was the ordinary, reasonable way to think.

But.

"Because a lowborn wretch became a noble. Because someone who should never have received those benefits received them. Because I climbed that mountain without knowing my place—I now bear deeper humiliation and condemnation than anyone else in this empire."

My every move was watched. The smallest action drew suspicion, and was obstructed. As if that weren't enough, rumors of things I'd never done were spread on my name.

"Crying that it's unjust means nothing. Not even my own family believes me—suspicion and blame come first. The slander painted across my name has swollen fat and bloated, and it hangs not only over the nobility but over the ducal house itself."

"The ducal house...? Then don't tell me, today, from your own family—!"

Harnie's eyes darkened with pity, as if she understood exactly what that meant. No further explanation was needed.

"It is the price of receiving what I never deserved. I am not treated as family in Bagrand."

The family who should have been my allies had transformed into my enemies. And not just any enemies—the worst kind.

And so Karsein Bagrand had chosen this one-year engagement. To break free of Bagrand. To cast off this status where absence would have been better than presence, and build the strength to live in this world alone.

That was why this contract had begun.

Harnie listened, understood, and fell silent for a while.

"I'm sorry. I only offered because I thought I could help... but if that's how it is, then there's not much I can actually do for you, is there..."

"Not at all. There's a great deal you can help me with."

"Like what?"

To Harnie, who wore an expression of complete bafflement, I gave a faint chuckle and named a few requests.

Even after hearing all of them, she still looked puzzled.

"Will that not do?"

"It's not that it won't... but are you really sure that's all you want?"

"Yes."

More than sure. Every last one of them would be of use to me.

—Neigh!

Just as our conversation was drawing to a close, the carriage rolled to a stop. The coachman announced our arrival at the Theresia Marquisate, and she began preparing to step down at the mansion.

When I escorted her out with all the proper ceremony, Harnie stuck out her lower lip in a pout.

"There's no fun in teaching you, you know. On occasions like this, you're supposed to make mistakes so I can scold you and blow off a little steam."

"Then I'll take it as high praise that I've learned so thoroughly."

"And don't get cocky—you still have plenty left to learn from me! You'd better brace yourself. I'm quite the strict teacher, and I'll be very harsh when you slip up."

"Hmm. In that case, I suppose I'll need to review. No help for it—I'll just have to read through that book aga—"

"Th-throw that book away! Throw it away right now!"

***

By the time I'd dropped the grumbling girl off at her mansion and returned, night had deepened around me.

Well, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I did let the conversation drag on longer than planned.

In order to make use of the skip event, I'd had to fritter away just the right amount of time.

Returning home after a certain hour meant shorter conversations with the household—and in some cases, missing them entirely. From Karsein's standpoint, the less he crossed paths with them, the better. That way, he could secure what he wanted with greater certainty.

The catch was that the timing had to land precisely at peak hour. Any later, and he'd start bumping into the family again. Roughly speaking—the fireworks beginning, the night market contests in full swing. If he hadn't met Harnie by then, he would have turned back.

No matter how late, I needed to walk in having encountered at least one of them, guaranteed.

And there she is, conveniently enough.

Through the window, a wave of pink hair swayed gently. It would be Claire.

A blessing in disguise.

Of all of them—Flora, Arina, Isabella—she was by far the easiest to deal with.

"We've arrived, Young Lord Karsein."

The coachman of House Theresia, who had seen me all the way into the estate grounds, announced that it was time to step down. I climbed out of the carriage and fished the money out of my coat, handing it over.

"My thanks. Consider it a tip."

"I couldn't, my lord. A tip? I only did what any coachman ought to do."

"You've made the round trip to this estate twice at this hour. You've more than earned the wages for it. And—though this is neither here nor there—I'd ask you to have some consideration for my dignity as well."

"My lord..."

The coachman bowed his head in gratitude and accepted the money. The truth was, it wasn't my money at all—it was borrowed from Harnie... but well, that much wouldn't be a problem.

The carriage pulled away. Claire would have watched the whole scene from nearby, and I had upheld the dignity of House Bagrand. One fewer thing to be called out on. She was bound to lecture me for coming home late regardless, but at least this way she couldn't fault me on the details. The rest was at my discretion.

"Karsein!"

Spotting me, Claire shouted and came scrambling down the steps. Then she looked me over from head to toe and said something utterly bizarre.

"No injuries... huh. Good."

"What's wrong with you? Creepy."

When I said that and pushed her hands away, her pink bangs fluttered in my breath. Then she pinched my cheek.

"Ow—what was that for?"

"Creepy? Hey. You're telling me this situation gives you the creeps? Huh?"

It didn't hurt, exactly, but it was deeply unpleasant. I peeled her hand off quickly.

"Well, excuse me for finding it creepy when you grope all over my body with your face an inch from mine. Maybe you should remember how you normally behave."

"Why, you little—!"

This time she pinched my side. Ugh. Seriously, the second sister—her temper, her everything—is exactly like the other one, and it drives me up the wall.

After I'd twisted away a few times, Claire let go on her own. And having apparently worked some of her frustration out, she got down to business.

"Come home early! Early! Did you really have to wander around outside until this hour? If you'd been even one minute later, I was about to order the knights out to search for you."

"Seriously? Why would you even do that?"

At my curt reply, Claire's eyes turned sharp again.

"Why do you think? Because I was worried, obviously."

—Ding!

The options appeared. Meanwhile, Claire kept talking, her eyes still narrowed.

"I remember that day too. When you came back beaten black and blue and collapsed into Mother's arms. When I think about that time... how could I not worry?"

Claire, pouring it all out like a lament, seemed almost deranged—as if she'd eaten that spicy fishcake by mistake and lost her mind. I almost threw in a few other words just in case, but she kept going.

"After you came back like that, you were bedridden for ages. You'd stood out in the falling snow so long you caught a cold on top of everything. That's why I checked your body first."

Unlike Arina, who remembered nothing of it, Claire had recalled the Snowflower Festival from the Memorial memory in surprising detail.

Normally, I'd choose option 2 and take the path of least resistance. But now, with everything as it was—option 4 seemed the right way to brush past it smoothly.

"I just stayed out late because I was pretty angry. That's all."

Claire fell silent for a moment, then murmured under her breath.

"...Right. Of course you would feel that way, from where you stand. It was our fault."

"I take it Arina said something to you?"

—Nod.

"After I'd burned off my temper running around with the knights looking for you and came back empty-handed, Sis told Mother everything right in front of her. She already knew, apparently?"

It wasn't as if I needed to deny it—and this was precisely why I held the upper hand here. So I simply answered that it was so.

"After that, Sis said she'd take full responsibility and bowed her head to Mother, telling her not to punish you. I... I had my own faults too, so I apologized along with her. And right now she's probably out searching for you, since it's gotten so late."

"She's out searching for me?"

"After you came home beaten that day, Sis tormented herself over it for the longest time. She clutched the hair ribbon you gave her and did nothing but drink, that's how bad it was."

"..."

"So I thought, what if it happens again this time? It's already this dark, so I sent the servants ahead and ordered them to search for you. If you'd seen Sis's face then, you'd never have said 'why bother worrying about me.'"

And so Claire filled me in on everything that had happened in my absence.

"So cool off a little, will you? Don't shut yourself in your room for days on end like last time. You can even go out with your fiancée like today—I won't say a word. Sis talked to Mother, so the confinement order's been lifted too."

The words of Claire, always so barbed, felt strangely gentle. Because of what had happened before, I supposed. That was the reason.

But.

You'd have said the exact same thing anyway—'why bother worrying about me.' Claire.

Indifference would be far more comfortable than this.

Swallowing the words, I glanced at the Status Window again. As expected—it didn't appear. The options should have popped up at this moment. Claire's line about cooling off instead of holing up in my room should have changed, and I should have been free to decide whether to shut myself away before walking into the estate.

The game's progression had shifted. And dramatically in my favor.

My eyes drifted, unbidden, to the affinity box.

...I suppose that tracks.

Isabella's affinity, which had been rising ever since the game began, stood at 30%. Claire's, which had started climbing at some point, was now closing in on that figure. The affinity had quite likely influenced the way events unfolded.

As I stared at Claire's affinity box, something drifted down from above. Tiny, snow-white clumps.

"Oh, and Karsein—you, back then... no. Never mind. That's not mine to say."

"Say what?"

"Ugh, I don't know! Ask Sis yourself! Anyway, it's snowing, so get inside before you catch a cold and end up bedridden again."

Claire, lips twitching like she wanted to say more, finally just urged me in out of the cold.

Unlike the game's progression, without a single hitch, I was able to follow Claire into the mansion just like that.

"Oh, wait. Karsein. Isn't there something you forgot? About me?"

"Forgot?"

"There is, isn't there? Something really important."

What now? What else could there be? Something I'd forgotten on this route...

Nothing comes to mind?

—Smack!

"Ack!"

Since I clearly had no idea, Claire brought her hand down hard on my rear.

Ugh. Of all places? That's exactly where Harnie hit me...!

"Oh, boo! My mistake for expecting anything. Just keep doting on your precious fiancée forever, why don't you!"

With that, she stomped off in a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sulk, each stride a declaration of pique.

You asked the question—why are you the one sulking?

"What on earth was that about..."

Just my personal opinion, but...

Is it a second-daughter thing? Is this just how they're all built?