The Induction Period (1)

"You wanted this...? Training this punishing?"

"Yes."

Isabella blinked in disbelief, her gaze sweeping over my attire.

Of course it would look that way. My training uniform was already in ruins, and my face was caked head to toe in the dust of the training grounds. Any trace of the noble young lord Karsein that Isabella knew had vanished without a remnant.

"Why must you push yourself like this? There was never any need to go to such extremes."

"..."

"I did not send you off hoping you would endure treatment like this. This is practically punishment."

Her tone begged me to say something—anything—but I gave no answer.

"Let me at least wipe your face first. Come back with me, Karsein."

She drew a handkerchief from her pocket and reached out to brush the dust from my cheek.

I dodged her hand.

Even as I registered the handkerchief approaching, I straightened my trembling body, and made for the place where I properly belonged—the back rank of the apprentice knights, where I fell into formation beside them.

"Salute to the Duchess!"

Handkerchief still clutched in her fingers, Isabella's hand hung frozen in midair, with nowhere left to go. Her eyes, heavy-lidded, fixed on me.

"Karsein..."

"I am, at present, a trainee who abides by the rules of the training grounds. Not the young lord of House Bagrand."

"If it is the sword you wish to learn, then I understand. But this is not the way. Once I have punished those who forced training of such excessive intensity upon you, I will find and secure a proper, worthy instructor. So please, put an end to this training. Will you?"

There it was. With this, this choice would be brought to a close.

"So now you intend to punish all the fine instructors as well."

"Karsein...?"

"Who decides what counts as training of 'improper intensity'? Is it me? Or is it the standard of the Duchess of Bagrand?"

"That would be..."

Naturally, it would be Isabella's standard.

"I have never once voiced a complaint while training alongside these men. If you believe otherwise, would you care to ask them here and now?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

And naturally, they would all say the same—that I had never uttered a single word of complaint. Because I truly hadn't. Not one.

"And now you seek to take from me even the right to train at the training grounds of my own accord."

"What is that supposed to...! No. That is not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean? Why punish the very men who provide the exemplary training I need? If that isn't taking something from me, what would you call it?"

"..."

Unable to answer, Isabella pressed her lips shut once more.

"You told me that if there was anything I wanted, I need only say the word."

"Karsein. Don't tell me...!"

"Pay no mind to what state I'm in. Whether this training is excessive or not is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for me to judge. Do not interfere. Whatever I do, leave me be at the training grounds, so that I may stand there as one knight among them. That is—call it a birthday present, if you like—what I earnestly desire."

Pressed relentlessly without a moment's pause, Isabella ultimately could not open her mouth again, and yielded to my wishes.

"If that is what you say... then I shall interfere no further."

Even so, unable to fully bring herself to let go, she tried once more to brush a little of the dust from my face with the handkerchief. When I turned my head away even from that, the hand holding it lowered of its own accord.

"I will take my leave. Please look after Karsein well."

"Yes, my lady!"

With those parting words, Isabella turned to go. Though she said it so firmly, her steps halted several times along the way, as if to steal one last look back at me.

In the meantime, the Status Window displayed the results.

Sure enough, the knights seemed to have set down a heavy burden—sighs of relief escaped them, and more than a few visibly swept a hand across their chests in gratitude.

Thanks to that, the gray boxes had noticeably paled, and the crossed-out ones had thinned to the point of standing out by their very absence. In the case with the widest gap, more than half had vanished outright.

That much, at least, seems handled.

It was an event made possible only because I had raised the intimacy stat beforehand, but Karsein now stood in possession of an ally beyond compare.

Isabella Bagrand.

With a single word from her, the First Knight Order would not dare open their mouths carelessly against me. They had, after all, forced training of reckless intensity, and some among them had even deliberately tried to retaliate midway through. If I borrowed Isabella's authority in this state, I could hold them accountable for their crimes with ease.

But as always, this game was riddled with traps.

However great the influence of intimacy, this was an obvious one. The moment I whispered a word of accusation to Isabella, sentiment within the knight order would sour catastrophically, and I would meet my death—unable to evade the approaching Dead Flag by any means whatsoever.

Besides, the Dead Trigger hidden in Episode V would remain unresolved.

And with that, the pattern made itself felt once more.

The beginning of Episode V.

It was exactly the same as back then. The hint was identical.

Just as it had been in the early stages, Karsein must accept no reward whatsoever. That law was carrying through, unbroken, to this very moment.

Time to move ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on to the next part.

I asked Mark directly.

"Today's training is done, but the next schedule looks rough. I take it I'm free to head back first?"

"...Yes."

Mark answered without a word of protest.

Understandable. With Isabella having come down here in broad daylight, what more could anyone possibly say? The other knights were no different. From the moment they laid eyes on her, none of them could lay a hand on me now even if they wanted to.

Still, a few wore expressions of open disappointment. Probably the ones in Emma's pocket, no doubt. They must have figured that tattling now would work out beautifully—a moment like this was perfect for stirring up ugly rumors about me within the knight order, so they assumed driving me out would be easy.

Sorry to disappoint, but today won't be the only day. For the four days remaining, you will never manage to chase me out.

Laughing at them inwardly, I was the first to slip out of the training grounds.

Her footsteps were heavy.

They had been none too light on the way to the training grounds, but now, having failed to bring Karsein home, they weighed heavier still.

By the time Isabella had arrived at the ducal residence in response to the telegram Claire sent, intending to mediate the quarrel between Arina and Karsein, she was already far too late. The moment she grasped the situation, Karsein had already departed for the training grounds.

"Mother."

"Mother."

Upon returning to the ducal residence, her three daughters were there to greet her.

What had become of Karsein, who was said to be at the training grounds? Surely they were dying to ask. Isabella simply closed her eyes tightly and shook her head.

"Karsein is staying at the First Knight Order's training grounds. As a trainee, it seems."

"...A trainee?"

"Yes. Today marks his third day, I'm told."

Claire's face twisted at once, and she raked her hands through her hair.

"If it was going to come to this, maybe we shouldn't have boarded up the Annex... Why on earth does he insist on sleeping in a place like the knights' barracks, of all things?"

She meant no slight against the knights' quarters. These were men devoted body and soul to House Bagrand, and measured against the Empire as a whole, their lodgings ranked among the very finest. But Karsein was a noble—and not just any noble, but one of House Bagrand itself. For a young lord of the ducal house to sleep in the same rooms as the knights of the training grounds... Claire was venting that, frankly, leaving the Annex open would have been the better choice all along.

Even if they had, Isabella consoled her, it would have made little difference. The image of Karsein dodging the handkerchief she'd offered to brush the sand from his face still lingered vividly in her mind. It seemed he had been thoroughly, deeply angered by the whole affair.

Steadying the ache in her chest, Isabella turned to Arina.

"What has become of the culprit?"

"Still under investigation. Going by Heron's testimony, we suspect the maids assigned to the utility room near Karsein's chamber."

"Mother! No matter how I think about it, it has to be that wretch Emma, doesn't it?!"

"Claire. The evidence is insufficient."

Arina moved to cut her off, but Claire pressed her case again.

"Insufficient how, exactly, Sister? I saw it all with my own two eyes—the way she nitpicked at Karsein the day he went out!"

"He still deserved rebuke for that. The ban on going out had not yet been lifted."

"Even so—the head maid nitpicking her master's outing and telling him to go borrow permission from you? That makes no sense unless she already harbored a grudge against him!"

"Those who look poorly upon Karsein are plentiful even within this ducal house. You must not let your feelings narrow the list of suspects."

"And who flits in and out of the utility room more than anyone? Emma, that's who. She fits well within the range of suspicion, if you ask me. Sister."

As the two daughters bickered back and forth, Isabella chided them to stop.

"I understand what each of you wishes to argue. But on the matter of Emma, I believe it best we find common ground."

"How so?"

"Heron has elected to confine Emma to solitary for the time being, pending this matter. After all, failing to keep the utility room maids in line can reasonably be laid at the head maid's feet."

"...If that is the extent of it, I can agree."

"Haah. I'm telling you, she's a hundred percent guilty, though."

Arina conceded to a degree; Claire remained visibly unconvinced. Contrary reactions, certainly—but for now, no better compromise existed.

"More to the point, Mother—you said Karsein has entered the training grounds as a trainee. What condition was he in today?"

"...He was sprawled across the field, covered head to toe in sand."

"You don't mean—after he had been training?"

"Yes. To be specific... it looked as though he had been pushed through somewhat reckless training."

"Just as I thought."

Arina pressed a hand to her forehead, as if something had finally clicked.

"Mother, that was not simply reckless training. It was the knights' hazing ritual for new recruits, of a sort... From what I've seen of it firsthand, the best thing is to bring him straight back to the ducal residence."

"But the boy wishes to remain at the training grounds, Arina."

"Training that grueling will continue day after day. For a noble, attaching a proper instructor would be—"

"I tried to persuade him along exactly those lines."

Isabella cut Arina off.

"I relayed to him everything you just said, word for word... but he refused. It was not what he wanted."

Karsein did not wish to return to the ducal residence. He wished to remain there, training alongside the knights. Isabella passed on to Arina, untouched and unsoftened, his words—that whether the training was excessive or not was for himself alone to judge.

"Haah... that stubbornness of his will never budge, will it. Digging his own grave. I know it's the knights' culture, but he has no business being able to endure something like that."

"How bad can it possibly be?"

"A vile custom, Claire."

When Arina offered a few choice examples, the faces of Claire and Isabella darkened at once, and the two of them began worrying over Karsein as well.

"...Tomorrow, I will go myself."

"You, Sister? But you just said you couldn't bring him back."

"Right. I can't bring him back. But with me standing right in front of him, he won't be able to pull anything mid-training, will he?"

"Oh. Huh, that's true!"

"In exchange, you go the day after. It would be the perfect chance to have a training uniform made for him, too."

"Aha. As a birthday present?"

"Now that is a fine idea."

The faces of Claire and Isabella brightened. It would head off the vile custom while allowing them to keep an eye on Karsein besides—and now that they knew his interests lay at the training grounds, they could gift him the birthday present while they were at it. There would be chances, too, to smooth his mood a little if the timing was right, and perhaps even to turn his heart through honest conversation. Their worries settled into a soft hush.

And so the three began planning with easy laughter. How exactly they might satisfy Karsein, what time of day would suit best—before long it had swelled into something close to a full conference. Then, at length, every eye turned to the youngest.

"Mother, Sister. Let Flora go on the last day."

"U-umm? Me?"

"Yes. You haven't given Karsein a present either, have you? Let's pull that weed out at the root, once and for all."

At those words, Flora flinched.

Far from giving him a present, she had tried to torment him—so the reaction was only natural. But while her family noticed nothing, Flora was thinking of something else entirely.

Unable to shake her questions about Karsein, she was being swept into a whirlpool of confusion.

I don't know. I can't tell. Which one of it is right...!

Not a word of the discussion around her reached Flora's ears. All she wanted was to be rid of this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠inexplicable, unpleasant feeling.

Tak! Tadtak!

Inside the blonde girl's room, a thumbnail cracked, and cracked again. The nail, worried at by her teeth over and over, had grown so short it was on the verge of bleeding. And with one more bite, the precarious flesh finally flared with a sharp sting.

"Ah."

The torn bed of her nail flushed red as liquid began to pool. Bit by bit it welled up, then traced down the curve of her finger. Having gnawed at it with her mouth this long, there was no taking it back now.

She snatched out a tissue and dabbed frantically to stop the flow—but the blood only soaked the tissue red in slow widening blooms. Press as she might, it kept coming, and something close to fear crept over her.

She couldn't hold out any longer.

...That person would know the answer.

Ever since the family conference—which had ended with the decision to take turns visiting the training grounds—Flora had remained in this state, and now she slipped away soundlessly toward somewhere.

"Why is nobody here?"

Wrapped snugly in a shawl, Flora tilted her head at the training grounds, emptier today than she had ever seen them.

"Oh. Right—sometimes the schedule gets moved outdoors, doesn't it?"

She'd been told that when the grounds emptied out like this, it usually meant outdoor training was on the itinerary. Had she come all this way for nothing, then? She considered turning back toward the estate—but by now, he ought to have returned.

With only a slight change of destination, a single knight soon came into view.

"Lady Flora?"

"Sir Theo!"

Beaming, Flora broke into a quick little trot and ran toward him.