The Chapter Pulled Forward (1)
Two days had passed since that enormous incident.
Unlike Theo Ramstair, who had retched and passed out in the wind-blasted cabin, and unlike Karsein, who had collapsed bleeding from blade wounds all over his body, Flora had come home in the best condition of them all.
Back at the ducal estate, she should have been the sole object of her family's anxious attention. The youngest, suddenly abducted and returned—the news alone would have drawn worry and love from both her sisters and her mother in generous measure.
But things were not as they once were.
There had been a time when Flora would have leapt for joy, weeping about her family being stolen away by Karsein. Now, her mind was tangled in knots of a different kind entirely.
She, too, was drowning in worry. Because Karsein had not opened his eyes in two days.
“...”
Today, once again, Flora stood before the door of Karsein's room.
She couldn't even remember what the physician had said anymore. Please wake up. Please open your eyes today. That was all that remained in her heart.
Knock, knock.
On the faint hope that something might have changed, she rapped on the door. Silence. Not a single sound came back. The fragile hope that he might be awake by now crumbled where she stood.
Do I really just have to turn away again today...?
Mother. Arina. Claire. All of them had told her the same thing—Karsein was only a little ill, so don't fuss over him and just go rest. Give it a bit more time, they'd said, and he'd be back on his feet in no time. You've had a shock too, they'd added, so sleep well and come see him looking bright and healthy again.
Those were the words Flora had overheard the moment she got up that morning and made straight for Karsein's room.
Pressing her lips into a tight line, she let every one of them wash past her and reached for the door handle. I'm done pretending not to see anymore!
She understood perfectly well that Karsein was sick and couldn't get up. Which was exactly why she had no intention of walking away today the way she had yesterday.
Click.
In the hour when no one was watching, the door to Karsein's room swung open. She slipped inside, wound tight with nerves, and saw him face-to-face for the first time since that day.
Still. His eyes were still closed.
Fearful of being caught by anyone, she shut the door behind her and hurried on tiptoe to his bedside. Up close, Karsein looked exactly as he had in her dream.
“Hic... hic.”
She tried so hard to hold back the tears. But she couldn't. They welled up on their own.
“You're hurting... that's why you can't get up, isn't it?”
Flora pulled the thing she'd kept in her pocket and reached out, taking Karsein's hand. Into that rough, callused hand covered in wounds and scars, she pressed a small object. She had given it to him once before—but its meaning had changed so much now.
“I'm giving you this, so please... don't huuurt anymore...”
Slumped over the edge of the bed, clutching his hand at last, she wept. The little cylinder was unquestionably an ointment salve. Not pretend you don't see me this time, but a genuine plea—rub this on and please, don't hurt anymore. That was why she had pressed it into his hand.
Too weak to hold anything, his hand kept letting it slip. Again and again, Flora placed the salve back onto his open palm. Each time it slid away and tumbled onto the bed, it felt as if Karsein himself was refusing to accept it.
Her worthless little tears spilled down and fell, and fell again.
“Because I was bad... so bad, please don't huuurt...”
Plop. Plop.
“I'm sorry for all the lying... all this time. I'm sorry I made you get in trouble. So please, don't huuurt...”
Plop. Plop.
“I'll never, ever do it again, I promise. Hic! So please...”
Please don't hurt anymore. Please, please wake up. Please don't disappear like this.
Soaking Karsein's blanket through with her tears, Flora wept without a sound, and wept, and wept again. And after murmuring those words over and over for a long while, the salve finally came to rest—still and unmoving—on Karsein's palm.
The servants of the ducal house had been swept out and replaced wholesale. Emma, who had embezzled the funds meant for young Master Karsein, had scattered that money to entrench her control over the household staff—so everyone who failed to prove their innocence through the testimony of the few honest servants and the subsequent investigation was severely punished and driven out.
And the one who had appeared at that trial, asking the other servants to hand over Emma's evidence and testify against her, was none other than Camilla, who had returned only that day from her week-long vacation.
“...It should be my turn soon enough.”
Camilla was no different from the rest of them. Whatever her reasons had been, she had committed a grave wrong against Karsein—and it was an act that could not be forgiven. So she felt no lingering attachment. Being allowed to keep her life was already more than enough. Receiving the Shuhupep tree root so her mother's illness could be cured was more than enough. Being granted even the smallest chance at atonement at the crucial moment when Emma's crimes needed proving was more than enough. It had been kindness beyond all deserving.
It stung that she had never repaid a single measure of his generosity properly—but a sinner was still a sinner.
And so Camilla made her way toward Karsein's room, to see her master one final time. Just before she walked to the ducal house herself and confessed the atrocities she had committed, seduced by Emma's money.
Master Karsein should be fine. He seemed likely to wake on the third day.
Chief Physician Shayden had said the wounds weren't deep, but that Karsein had been utterly exhausted, and would sleep soundly for a day, maybe two. And today was precisely the third day. It was time for the young master to wake.
This will be my final duty as a maid, I suppose.
Shayden had added that even on the third day, Karsein would likely wake later in the day rather than in the morning. So Camilla had come a little early on purpose. Cleaning was all she knew how to do, after all. She wanted to tidy this room one last time and leave before Karsein woke.
Click.
It was presumptuous, but just for today, she entered without permission. Carefully. More carefully still. Her plan was to clean swiftly without waking the young master from his deep sleep.
But someone had already beaten her here.
“...Mar... ry...”
“Lady Flora...?”
Flora—the youngest daughter who had despised Karsein so thoroughly—lay slumped over his bed, sleeping fitfully. No. To be more precise, she had cried herself to exhaustion and collapsed.
“...”
What on earth was she supposed to do with this?
Camilla found herself in a thoroughly awkward predicament. According to Shayden, Karsein would be difficult to rouse, so he might not stir—but the moment she began cleaning, Flora would wake at once.
What do I do...?
Just as Camilla was fretting over the impossible situation—
“...Mar, ryyy...”
“Ngh...”
Karsein himself woke, entirely without warning.
“Who's... there?”
His vision hadn't returned yet, so he couldn't make out who it was—but there was nothing to be done now that he was awake.
“It is Camilla, my lord. I had hoped to finish cleaning before you woke... I have committed an intrusion. I beg your forgiveness.”
“...Your vacation's over, huh. Right.”
“Yes, my lord.”
She bowed her head at once. This wasn't why she had come—but there was nothing for it now except to say it plainly.
“The truth is, my lord... I did not spend my full week away before returning to the estate.”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard from the other maids that something had happened at the ducal house. From what they said, it seemed you were in danger of being framed for something, my lord... so I came back in haste.”
Karsein let out a soft sigh.
“I see. I did wonder where those servants' testimony in the courtroom had come from. So it was you, Camilla.”
“...Yes. It was.”
There was nothing left to be surprised by. With a hollow smile, Camilla confirmed his sharp question.
“What exactly did you do?”
“After visiting the knights' quarters, I investigated Emma's movements whenever I found the time.”
“Tailing her?”
“I am ashamed to admit it, but I, too, once received money from Head Maid Emma and met with her in arranged places. By process of elimination, removing each of her usual haunts one by one, a single list emerged.”
“Hm. That must have been dangerous. Ah—so that's how you turned the servants' hearts.”
Karsein nodded, satisfied.
“And what brings you to me today?”
“...Well, there is something I must tell you, my lor─”
“Camilla. Don't tell me you're planning to confess that you received Emma's help.”
She had hesitated, choosing her words carefully—but her lord had already read her intentions.
“Whatever your reasons, the fact that you hurt me hasn't changed. Like the maids who got swept out, you'll mention that you had contact with Emma, and bring up everything from the past. That's the shape of it, isn't it?”
As if he were peering directly into her mind. He hadn't missed a single syllable.
“...Yes.”
Camilla could offer nothing but confirmation.
“Then don't say anything at all.”
“My lord, but...”
“If your opinion reaches Arina, or Claire, or Mother's ears, I'll undoubtedly be summoned. I was the one who personally accepted you as my exclusive maid after you proved Emma's crimes, after all.”
It was the natural next step. Claire would scold him far more harshly, demanding to know why he had kept such a person at his side all this time.
“I despise making more trouble for myself. So don't do anything unnecessary.”
“...I understand, my lord.”
Though he had given her the warning, Camilla still looked tormented. Having stopped her from volunteering her confession, Karsein immediately changed the subject to keep the matter from surfacing again.
“Camilla. How long was I lying here?”
“Counting from the day you were laid upon this bed after collapsing... roughly three days... gah.”
As if she had only just remembered something crucial, Camilla clapped a hand over her own mouth in a panic.
“I—I shall bring your meal right away.”
“No, take your time with that. More importantly...”
Karsein had already pushed himself upright, and now stared down toward the foot of the bed with a bitter expression. He pointed a finger at Flora, slumped asleep over the covers.
“Did you bring her here too?”
“No. As for Lady Flora, I couldn't say...”
“Then what about this salve in my hand?”
“...I hadn't noticed that at all. My only thought was to clean quietly and slip away...”
“Ha. Unbelievable.”
Heaving a long sigh, Karsein passed the salve to Camilla.
“Put it in whatever drawer holds the same kind of thing. No use for it.”
Then he asked her to bring his meal—and added that while she was at it, she should fetch Claire or Arina, if either happened to be visible, so they could carry Flora out.
The expression the young master wore in that moment was utterly, bone-deeply cold. Such a stark contrast to the girl who had soaked his bed sheets with tears before falling asleep that the two might as well have belonged to different worlds.
Before long, Claire and Arina arrived together and came to collect Flora, who had cried herself asleep in my room.
“Sleeping in a place like this...”
“And here I was planning to bring her in only once you were awake.”
Once the maids and attendants were called in, Flora was swiftly carried out in someone's arms. But the two of them still had not left.
Ding!
Of course they hadn't. A choice was floating in front of me.
“If your business is finished, could you both give me some space?”
“Hey. What's with the cold shoulder? At least tell us if anything's wrong with your body—”
“My body? It's a wreck. I just woke up after three days and I'm a complete mess. And I need to get a proper meal down soon, too.”
I answered indifferently and turned my back on the two of them.
This choice wasn't of any great consequence. It came down to which to prioritize between managing Affinity and spending Action Points—choosing to see Isabella now would raise Affinity. The only drawback was that it would drain stamina for nothing. I'd only just woken, and Karsein's body was in poor shape, so it was far better to finish a quick meal, bathe, and sleep. The Affinity gain wasn't worth much anyway.
Separately, since I'd cut Claire off mid-sentence, I braced myself for a lecture.
But contrary to expectations, Claire left the room without a single complaint.
“Once you're fully recovered, we're talking. Got it?”
Arina likewise said nothing more than that.
By the original game's story, both of them should have barged in with a laundry list of grievances.
So that's why. Now that I see this, it makes sense.
Arina Bagrand
Affinity: 26%
▮▮▯▯▯▯▯▯▯▯
Claire Bagrand
Affinity: 37%
▮▮▮▮▯▯▯▯▯▯
There it was, plain in the white boxes—both sisters' Affinity had climbed higher than before. That was the conclusion.
Well, that was that. There was another reason I'd set the two of them on Flora.
“The maid named Camilla told me you have something urgent to discuss with me?”
“Yes. Harnie.”
Whatever I needed to say to Harnie alone, this seemed like the right moment for it.
Chapter 2 had already been pulled forward. An episode meant for Chapter 2 had bled into the events of Chapter 1, and once things had spiraled into their worst possible shape, letting my guard down was no longer an option. Which meant the breathing room between Chapters 1 and 2 might have shrunk far more than I'd anticipated. Against whatever accident might come, I needed a plan of my own.
“I require lessons. On territory management.”
Fwoosh—!
The report met the brazier's flames and vanished in an instant. The man holding it let out a hollow laugh, as if the absurdity of it all had finally gotten to him.
“How exactly do you have to botch a job for it to end up like this? Driven out of a mere ducal house—because you couldn't drive out a single commoner?”
She was supposed to be the head maid who knew the ducal house inside and out. That someone like her had failed to expel a child who wasn't even treated as family after being brought in from outside—it defied all comprehension.
He had even handed over every scrap of information on the ducal house. With that, she could have seized control of the household effortlessly, then exploited its every weakness to crush Karsein outright. Setting aside her failure to drive him out, hearing that she'd been thoroughly gutted at the trial besides—it was laughable.
“Anything else on her whereabouts? Did she run off with the money?”
“She is dead, sir.”
“Huh? Dead?”
“It appears she tried to bribe her way into comfortably expelling Karsein, only to have it blow up in her face. The one who killed her was a knight she'd bought with that very money—a man named Theo Ramstair, I believe. A complete nobody.”
“...That's all?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Unbelievable. She's dead? Killed by the very knight she paid off? I knew she was a money-grubbing lunatic, but I never imagined she was this far gone.”
He let out a flat, lifeless sigh.
“Well, no matter. I've still got plenty of pieces to work with.”
Even he had never imagined that the beggar he'd crossed paths with by chance would end up entering the ducal house and stirring up all this trouble—but pulling him back out would be no difficult task.
A boy who had suffered every manner of abuse would surely be brimming over with rage by now. According to Emma, they'd piled slander upon slander on him until he wasn't even treated as family.
And so, he was waiting. Anticipating.
“Ahh, I simply cannot wait to meet him. Karsein Bagrand.”
That rage, turning its blade toward the empire and the ducal house of Bagrand—what a magnificent sight that would be.
That electric thrill of a son pointing his sword at his own family.
He was looking forward to it.