One Hundred Laps and Unwanted Help

My head was throbbing.

Mark and the regular knights were all flat on the floor, foreheads pressed to the ground, shouting their apologies. Heron and Shayden, who in this episode should only have shown their faces at the trial, were nowhere to be seen. The two of them had at least sent word ahead that a meeting would be difficult — but Harnie, who had no real stake in this incident whatsoever, had shown up too.

Scene after scene that simply didn't exist in the game came crashing down on me all at once, and for a moment I thought my brain was going to seize up entirely.

First thing in the morning, seriously... ha.

For now, I had to get these knights back on their feet.

"Everyone, up."

"We cannot!"

The refusal came back at me like a blade.

"We deserve a harsher punishment!"

"We neglected our duty to manage those beneath us, never imagining such a thing could happen to the Young Master!"

"We let our vision grow clouded, fell prey to prejudice, and regarded the Young Master with unjust eyes!"

"We displayed a shamelessness unbecoming of knights!"

They recited their sins in perfect unison.

These were the very words Karsein had yearned to hear until he was sick of waiting for them.

As I scrambled to talk down men who were so willingly confessing their guilt and offering their necks for punishment,

"We ask that you pass judgment upon us!"

the knights roared all over again, voices ringing through the hall.

Ugh. My head.

Fine. Fine. Let me just ask one of the knights up front.

"...Hey. Where's the captain?"

"Captain Radiel asked not to attend, so that there might remain room for our sentences to be reduced!"

"So that's why he's not here?"

"Yes! Because all of us must demonstrate our resolve to accept in full whatever punishment the Young Master delivers!"

Goddammit. These guys are absurdly thorough about the wrong things!

So you realize you were in the wrong now?

And your response is to demand a punishment?

I pressed a hand to my forehead and glanced sideways at the Status Window flickering into view.

There aren't any choices here? Not even... some thought Karsein might have had?

Yep. Nothing. Moving on.

The Status Window stayed silent, as if saying exactly that.

"Young Master. In moments like these, it is better that you, as their lord, give the word."

As I stood there at a loss, Heron drew near and murmured quietly.

"And what exactly am I supposed to say?"

"Since they are knights, it would be best to handle it in the manner of knights. Starting with, say, one hundred laps around the training grounds."

"...One hundred?"

Isn't that the kind of thing that kills you halfway through?

"This is a method genuinely employed in many households when disciplining knights for their transgressions. Of course, given the standing of the Bagrand Ducal House, the figure has been doubled in consideration of both your dignity, Young Master, and the honor of the knights themselves. But should you find it insufficient, you are free to multiply it several times over—"

"Enough!"

That old man Heron is no saint either.

Coming from someone who's actually run those laps, that's a genuinely dangerous thing to suggest.

Nobility? Dignity? A knight's honor?

I don't know anything about that.

I'm just going to do things my way.

"We start with a run, right now! If anyone arrives later than me, then and only then will you get your real punishment!"

With that bellowed declaration, I bolted out of the quarters first and tore straight off toward the Training Grounds. The knights, who had frozen stiff in their punishment stances at my baffling order,

"Young Master! What about the number of laps! You have to tell us how many!"

"Is now the time to be thinking about that?! Just run!"

"What are you doing, you idiots! Move!"

scrambled upright and burst into a sprint all together.

Mark, who overtook me faster than anyone, roared back at the knights trailing behind.

"Any bastard who falls behind the Young Master had better not plan on coming back alive! As Vice-Captain, I'll ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠personally take care of you!"

And so a training session of the usual brutal intensity began.

Then—

Something else I never saw coming was rolling in.

An unscheduled lap around the grounds — one born of my own hand.

Perhaps because being punished was merely for show, they sprinted far ahead of me and kept running, and running. Thinking back, they probably could have managed Heron's hundred laps after all.

By the time we'd run a reasonable amount, the knights seemed more or less settled. A few ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠came charging up to slam their heads down again, insisting this wasn't enough, but when Heron hinted that a fiancée was watching, they all slunk back to their posts.

Of course, I hadn't run all that distance with an empty head, either. I used the time to untangle the mess in my mind, and to work out why this whole affair was unfolding in the first place.

As I lay sprawled on the ground catching my breath, Harnie came over and dabbed the sweat from my face with her handkerchief.

"It seems those people weren't the ones behind it? If they had been, they wouldn't have turned back so meekly."

"Right. Well..."

More importantly, I needed to get my own side in order.

"You didn't have to come, even if Heron did call for you."

"Why not?"

"Because this was something I could have handled alone. No — to put it precisely, I should say it wasn't a matter for Lady Harnie to involve herself in."

Bringing Harnie here had almost certainly been Heron's solo maneuver. The knights, Mark could rally on his own — but Heron must have judged this his chance, precisely because it involved the fiancée.

Theo declared a life-or-death duel and demanded a trial, after all. He must have decided that having a fiancée named Harnie in the picture would work in our favor.

A seasoned operator is a thorough calculator, too.

If Radiel was the direct witness and victim, Heron was better understood as a circumstantial one — someone with a hazy awareness of Emma's meddling. And so, when the trial actually comes, it's practically a given that he'll take the stand as Karsein's witness. Yet Heron had never once breathed a word of this to Karsein.

The reason was obvious.

He calculated that he couldn't be the one to press charges against Emma himself.

Karsein was the sole injured party in this affair, and without hard evidence, an indirect witness could just as easily find himself cornered instead. He was in the same position as Radiel — unable to step forward directly — but unlike Radiel, he'd foreseen from the start that his testimony alone would fall short.

Which was exactly why he'd summoned Harnie here — because he was determined to seize this opportunity when it came.

At that, Harnie pursed her lips into a pout.

"Weren't we supposed to tell each other when something like this happens?"

"...I'm sorry, what?"

"You said it yourself, at the festival. That we'd stay informed of each other's situations and step in to help whenever we could."

Well, I did say that.

It was because Harnie had been practically swarmed by the ladies of high society at the time.

"But that hardly applies now, does it? You didn't even know the situation, and it's hardly the sort of thing that needs your help."

I'd already gotten what I asked of her. This wasn't even ducal business, and there'd been no reason for her to walk all the way out here over an incident at the Training Grounds.

"Hmm. Well, I'd say I'm involved now."

"What?"

"You used my handkerchief, didn't you? And I've heard the whole story from Butler Heron."

"No — you're getting involved over that?"

"Of course. It just so happens to be a situation I can help with su~fficiently?"

Harnie smiled graciously as she folded the handkerchief she'd wiped my sweat with. In contrast, my expression had turned thoroughly sour, and that gentle smile curdled at once into indignation.

"And what's that look supposed to mean now? You don't like it?"

"You're getting in too deep. This is a matter within the Knight Order."

"Exactly. Which is all the more reason I should step in. It's a perfect opportunity to reveal that you have a fiancée, you know."

...That, I can't argue with.

I'd promised I wouldn't hold back when the chance came for a grand announcement.

"And when I say I can help, I'm not just saying it."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know how nobles actually fight it out in a courtroom?"

"Uh..."

"You barely know noble etiquette, so how would you know any of that? Underestimating it could land you in serious trouble."

Hard words to refute.

Think of what Karsein got wrong in the past. Lack of composure aside, he'd been censured for failing to properly fulfill the duties of his noble standing. How many times over nineteen years of life had that lesson been beaten in?

Ignorance leads straight to defeat.

"If this goes to trial, it really would be best for someone experienced to step in and advise you, wouldn't it?"

"...Fine. Teach me, then."

Harnie beamed again.

"Now, up you get."

"Wh-what? I'm drenched in sweat right now..."

"If I leave you lying there like that, you might get even dirtier?"

It was a command, not a suggestion. I couldn't stop her as she took my arm and hauled me upright — sprinting at full power had left me with nothing left.

And then.

Without meaning to, I saw it.

The intimacy boxes of Heron and Shayden — something I had never once seen in all my time playing the game.

The moment I moved to follow Harnie, a wave of stares came pouring in.

Well, of course they would. I'd just revealed that Karsein had a fiancée, so naturally they were curious. They were men before they were knights — of course they'd want to see who their lord's fiancée was.

"Everyone, inside already."

When Radiel stepped out and barked at them, there was a small farce of the knights retreating inside with visible reluctance.

Something about needing to give the two of us time alone, and whatnot. I wanted to tell him to cut the nonsense, but I couldn't.

Radiel had cleared us a spot suitably out of anyone's earshot, and Harnie dove straight into business.

"The fact that you had a fiancée — and that they not only didn't know it, but went so far as to touch her belongings and insult you — seems to be a considerable advantage. Shall we start there and work through it?"

Their first offense: tampering with the fiancée's possessions.

Starting from that line, she began drafting a list of aggravating factors in elegant script, organizing everything that could justify a harsher sentence.

"Hitting two noble houses at once is the crucial point. Since we'll want to foreground your standing as a noble over your Trainee status, you should avoid the title of heir to Baron Ramster whenever possible. If they try to strip it from you, we counter immediately by—"

She distilled parts I knew nothing about into crisp key points, and it appeared she'd even prepared airtight arguments for when the opposition ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠inevitably pushed back.

It was impressive competence. Enough to instill a real confidence that we wouldn't be outmatched, even proceeding exactly as we were.

Afterward, Harnie asked me, carefully,

"The trouble is, I can only testify as far as this point. As for the rest of the incident... I'd like to hear the story."

Testimony was only ever testimony. But if I understood the full context of the case, I could position myself that much more advantageously.

"Of course, if you'd rather not, or if you'd prefer not to recall unpleasant memories, you're free to refuse."

It had nothing to do with Karsein's past, after all.

That was why she phrased it so delicately — so as not to wound his feelings.

Kindness like that felt awkward to receive.

But.

"No. I'd rather tell you."

I answered without hesitation. If I was to navigate the trial's pitfalls and hold the high ground, I needed the feedback.

So I told her the story of the frame-up.

Harnie tried not to let it show, but her trembling pupils and quivering fists betrayed just how furious she was.

Perhaps because of that, she prepared all the more meticulously. She organized everything more thoroughly, dug in with greater precision, and anticipated the opposition's every argument.

She went one step further and readied rebuttals to demolish each claim outright — and by then, hours had slipped away.

"If we prepare like this, I think our odds are quite high. Although..."

Suddenly, Harnie's expression darkened.

Before I could even ask what was wrong, she turned the question on me.

"Are you... going to be all right? After having something like that done to you?"

Good question. Who knows, honestly.

If it were Karsein, the answer would be obvious — of course not. But that's not who I am, is it?

That was why I found it hard to answer glibly either way.

"I'm sorry. That was an unnecessary question..."

"Why are you apologizing? If anything, I should be the one thanking you for letting me help."

"..."

"Don't worry. Things like this don't wound me."

"Is that so?"

The darkness on Harnie's face lifted, just a little.

"Then... might I see you again sometime soon?"

"What, afraid the nobles will get suspicious?"

"What? Ah — yes...! It's just that we haven't been able to see each other for so long..."

Huh. She seemed a little flustered, somehow.

"A-anyway, whatever — contact me before the trial. It's gotten late, so I'll head back first!"

With that, Harnie hurried off.

That wasn't like her at all.

"She's definitely hiding something, isn't she."

Still, I'd gotten an enormous amount of help today. Preparing all of this alone would have sharpened my tongue considerably already, and with her evidence added on top, I could send both of them to their graves for certain.

Even if the choices tried to get in my way.

As I gathered up the pages Harnie had drafted and stepped out of the refreshment room, a familiar head of golden hair was wavering outside.

Right. It was about time she showed up.

This was the timing when choices were supposed to appear — it would've been stranger if she hadn't come.

Flora flinched the instant our eyes met, her whole body shuddering.

I'd administered shock therapy, sure, but I had no desire to waste a single word on her.

I simply walked right past Flora as if she weren't there.

"U-um...!"

Whereupon the little brat grabbed my sleeve first. The cuff, damp and clammy with sweat, should have been unpleasant to hold — but she didn't let go.

"I heard... there's going to be a trial..."

A voice creeping in from the margins. Without meeting my eyes even once, Flora pressed on.

"I came... to help too..."

A second-choice prompt appeared.

It didn't matter which I picked.

So I shook off the sleeve clutched in her grip and started walking again.

"I-I can help! Emma, and Theo — they both said things to me, I heard everything—!"

Tap.

Flora, chasing after me at a scramble, seized my arm with both hands this time, as if determined not to let go.

"That's why I..."

Smack!

As I tore both her arms away roughly, Flora stared up at me with startled eyes.

"I-I really did come to help! I know what Emma and Theo have been doing all this time, so I came to help you—!"

"I don't need it."

"What...?"

Normally, the smart play is not to choose.

But right now, I'm going to choose.

"I don't need your help."

Rather than accept help from this little brat, I'd sooner settle everything on my own.