Sudden Outburst
Arsha Swordhorn had beaten Sara Leoris. From this day forward, at least, that proposition was true.
It was a thing she had wished for so fiercely it had visited her in dreams—and yet, in a corner of Arsha's heart, an unease she could not quite conceal still lingered.
She had gone into the contest as if it were a duel to the death. She had thrown down the challenge to Sara Leoris with the resolve that defeat would mean being dashed against the rocks at the foot of a cliff.
And yet Sara, having lost, showed not the slightest burst of indignation. She wore the look of someone who did not even know a contest had taken place.
The truth was, Arsha had been certain of her own defeat. Mini wyverns were monsters far more comfortable for a mage than for a swordswoman. To face the continent's foremost prodigy, in a discipline that already put her at a disadvantage? Coldly speaking, it had never been a fight she could win.
And yet when the results came in, she was the one who had won. Anyone else might have concluded that Sara's reputation had been inflated—that her true ability was a fraud. Arsha was not anyone else.
She had watched Sara Leoris work magic more than once. Her rival's magecraft was, infuriatingly, so powerful that she had no choice but to acknowledge it. The mere sight of it was enough to make her feel the wall of talent standing between them.
In the end, there was only one reasonable conclusion: Sara had not taken this exam seriously.
Sara had certainly declared that she would approach the exam in earnest, for the glory of her house. But no one in this world kept every word they spoke. And besides—their contest had not even had spectators, had it?
The Sara Leoris that Arsha knew would have produced a better result than this even on an off day. The hypothesis that Sara had grasped the exam's worthlessness and held back sounded far more persuasive than the notion that she had simply accepted a poor showing because she was out of sorts.
Sara Leoris. Do you not even consider me a rival?
The emotion burning hot inside her was rage. A fury that boiled like magma heated her through.
That Sara Leoris stood ahead of her did not matter. The world had never been fair to begin with. She herself possessed talent that others would not even dare to look at. That Sara possessed still greater talent than her own was something she could fully accept.
But that Sara would not even look at her—that was an insult too great to bear. How many years of grinding endurance had she spent for the sake of surpassing Sara Leoris?
Sara…. You stole my mother from me! So the least you could do is look at me!
In her ears, the words her mother had spoken at that social gathering still rang as clearly as if they had been said yesterday.
She had no need of a hollow victory like this. To make her mother look at her again, she needed the title of Arsha Swordhorn—the one who had beaten Sara Leoris.
And so Arsha was about to challenge Sara to a duel on the spot. But then—
"I'd like to invite Miss Swordhorn to a banquet at our estate this evening…. Do you have the time?"
Just like that, she had received an invitation to Sara Leoris's mansion.
The Royal Capital was, of course, the most expensive land in the kingdom. But not every corner of the Royal Capital was the same.
The capital was divided, clockwise from the palace at its heart, into Districts 1 through 20. The lower the number, the closer to the palace, and the steeper the price of the ground beneath one's feet. Once the number dropped to five or below, it became a wealthy quarter where even ordinary nobles could not easily settle.
The Academy stood in District 3. Sell the entire campus and you could easily purchase two or three provincial territories.
The Leoris family's estate in the Royal Capital was in District 1—directly opposite the Royal Palace, no less. If you asked where the most golden scrap of land in District 1 was, every hand in the city would point to the same place.
"We sincerely welcome you to the House of Leoris."
Sara smiled and offered a greeting in the proper noble forms, and the mansion gates opened. An elderly butler of kindly countenance, a monocle at his eye, bowed even more courteously than Sara, in the posture of a servant.
"It is an honor to receive such distinguished guests. I am Vincent, butler to the House of Leoris. For as long as you remain with us, I shall endeavor to see that you want for nothing."
At that seasoned, elegant welcome, Sierra muttered with a tense look on her face.
"Wow…. We're actually visiting a noble estate. I can't believe it."
"Once you enroll at the Academy, this sort of thing happens from time to time."
Yohan gave Sierra's tense shoulder a light pat as he spoke.
Arsha, Yohan, and Sierra went in together.
The Leoris estate drew gasps from the very threshold. Even Sierra, who had no cultivation in the arts, found herself marveling at the works that filled the place, and the interiors were so refined and noble it felt as if they had stepped into another world. Carpets from the East, sculptures and paintings from the West, furniture from the North. The mansion was a vast meeting-ground where every nation and region converged—and in the way such disparate things had been gathered without a hint of disharmony, one could feel the tremendous depth of the House of Leoris. These people were a different breed entirely from the capital's famous nouveau riche.
Arsha swallowed, dry-throated, before she could stop herself.
She had known it in her head. That the Leoris family ranked above the Swordhorns as a great house. But knowing with the head and seeing with the eyes were entirely different matters. Human beings were, at their core, ruled by sight.
I can't let myself be cowed.
Arsha composed her face into the calmest expression she could manage. It was at least a small mercy that a commoner was present. Sierra was busy gawking around the mansion like a country bumpkin who had only just come up to the capital—behavior no one with even a shred of noble breeding would ever display.
"I'll show you to your seats. You don't mind if we dine at once, do you?"
At Sara's invitation, Arsha nodded. She had no intention of lingering here long. She had come as a kind of reconnaissance.
The four of them sat side by side at a square dining table. Vincent the butler and the attendants under him began to bring out the food. The dishes, too, were without exception as luxurious as the house demanded.
"It isn't much, but please eat plenty."
Sara said it with a beaming smile.
The meal was delicious. The cooking was so excellent, so refined, that one felt the rigid etiquette had been worth observing. The explanations of each dish were given by the estate's head chef, Bart, in person.
"We've placed a mushroom foam atop the scallop and finished it with a rich demi-glace. I recommend taking it in a single bite."
"A beverage of green apple, pear, and Eastern tea. A light sip before the main course will cleanse the palate."
The dishes on the plates were luxurious. The tableware that held them was luxurious. The man explaining them was luxurious. Even in this unfamiliar situation where nothing was not luxurious, Sierra lavished praise on the food without the slightest reservation.
"Yohan. How much would a meal like this cost outside?"
"Hmm. A course of this caliber would run you at least ten silver, I'd say."
"T-ten silver!? That's more than my food budget for a whole year."
"Without the beverage pairing, around that, yes. Yohan, was it? For a commoner, you've got a surprisingly good eye."
Arsha, who had been enjoying the meal, answered Yohan's remark.
"Haha. Thank you for the kind words."
There was not much conversation during the meal. Even Arsha found her attention stolen by the food.
"Our head chef originally specialized in desserts. I'm often too busy to eat proper meals, but I never skip dessert. Please, try some."
It was time for dessert, the last of the courses. The dessert was bite-sized cookies—a somewhat rustic offering, but the flavor was astonishingly superb.
When the meal ended, Sara spoke with sparkling eyes.
"Did you enjoy the meal?"
It had been a thoroughly satisfying meal. Arsha was intensely annoyed, but she could not deny the fact. Finding fault here would only be spitting in her own face.
"It was fine."
Arsha assessed the Leoris family's culinary prowess in the most restrained terms she could manage.
"It was excellent."
Yohan, the commoner, offered an honest impression. The reason he had not reached for more rhetoric was simply that none had come to mind.
Hearing Yohan's praise, Sara shook her head with a bright smile. Strangely, this man's compliments were more pleasant to hear than anyone else's. That was surely because his praise was so sparing. People naturally assigned greater value to what was scarce.
"I've never eaten food this delicious in my life. It was amazing!"
Sierra, too, gave an evaluation honest to her feelings.
"Though the dessert Yohan made was even better."
A little too honest.
"W-what did you just say!?"
Bart, exclusive head chef to the House of Leoris, who had come out of the kitchen to inquire after the meal's satisfaction, started at Sierra's words and demanded an explanation.
"D-did my dessert fail to please you? Did a hair perhaps fall into it?"
"Ah—no. Chef, you're bald. The dessert was delicious. I only said that because the dessert Yohan made was even better…."
"Yohan? I have spent over thirty years in this profession, and I have never heard of a chef by that name! And I am not bald. I merely submitted to an involuntary tonsure for the sake of hygiene! The two are entirely different, so you must distinguish them with care!"
"Th-that is still bald, though, isn't it? And Yohan is right here."
Sierra pointed to Yohan sitting beside her. Yohan waved at Bart with an awkward expression. At that, Bart clenched both fists in fury.
"Better at desserts than I am…! Guest of the young lady or not, that is a statement I cannot accept! That a green brat like that would be superior to me is absurd!"
At Head Chef Bart's sudden outburst, Sara waved her hands with a look of dismay.
"Chef. You seem a bit overexcited. Please, calm down first…"
"Bwahahaha! What a truly amusing situation."
Then a hearty male voice rang out from the far side of the kitchen.
Arsha turned toward the sound on reflex. There stood a man with the same crimson hair as Sara.
"I heard my daughter was holding a banquet and came out of curiosity—but I never expected something this entertaining."
The Sage of Red Hair. The sole Archmage in the Royal Capital.
Ralph Leoris.