A Show of Gratitude
Louis wore a look of pure bafflement.
"What the hell? Out of nowhere?"
Anyone would be thrown off if the person they had just shown kindness to suddenly turned on them like that.
But Felice pressed on, her voice cold and cutting.
"I meant exactly what I said. Teaching someone else your family's secret sword techniques in the first place is absurd. I have no idea what you're scheming."
Thinking of her father had chilled Felice's mind, letting her reason with a colder clarity. Passing down a house's secret sword arts to someone from another family—especially to their heir—was simply unthinkable.
In truth, Louis was not originally of this world. He lacked that kind of common sense and felt little attachment to the Wallenstein name, which was why he had made the offer so freely. To Felice, who had to receive it, suspecting some ulterior motive was only natural.
Without hesitation, Felice turned on her heel. Yes. This was the right thing. She was of the Ansberg family, and he was of House Wallenstein—
"Hey."
From behind her came Louis Wallenstein's voice. It caught her by the ankle. Unlike his usual cheerful tone, it sounded painfully sad.
"I know you hate me, but I honestly have no idea why."
The reason was obvious. Because he was a Wallenstein.
"If it's not just that you can't stand me, at least tell me why. That way I can fix it."
No. It could not be fixed. Because it was not his fault.
Felice did not leave, yet she did not open her mouth either. She simply stood rooted to the spot, listening to him speak.
"Just now, too—there was no scheme. I was trying because I want to get along with you. We're going to be in the same party for three whole years. We can't keep going on like this forever."
No. That couldn't be true. It had to be a lie. She wanted to believe that. Yet Louis's words rang with such sincerity that she could not.
Leaving him behind as he finally fell silent, Felice fled the training ground as if running away.
The next day, Felice's heart remained unsettled. She had barely slept the night before. No matter how hard she tried not to care, Louis Wallenstein's words kept tormenting her. Even during class she kept stealing glances in his direction. Unlike usual, he made no attempt to speak to her. That was exactly what she had wanted—yet somehow it left her feeling hollow.
Right. Just stop thinking about it.
She steeled herself that way, but the sad, sincere, almost desperate sound of his voice refused to leave her head. Naturally, she began recalling how she had treated Louis until now. No matter how kindly he tried to start a conversation, she had ignored him. Yesterday she had even cursed him out when he tried to offer her kindness. Given that her father had ordered her never to associate with a Wallenstein, it was only natural—yet that same behavior had also violated the chivalry her father always preached.
Seeing Louis look more dejected than usual, she made her decision. As a knight, what she had done yesterday was clearly wrong. She would apologize and accept his proposal. If it turned out to be some underhanded scheme, she would simply smash his plans to pieces. Her father would approve of that. And if there truly was no scheme, if he had genuinely wanted to grow closer to her…
I'll think about that later.
When class ended, Felice called Louis aside where no one else could see. Behind the classroom building she bowed her head to him.
"I am truly sorry about yesterday. I apologize."
Still bowed, she waited for his reply. There was no reason for it, yet she felt a little nervous. After a brief silence, his answer came.
"Nah, it's fine. People get heated sometimes, right? Ahaha!"
She had no idea what "getting heated" was supposed to mean, but it was the same playful voice as always. If anything, he seemed to be exaggerating on purpose to lighten the mood. For reasons she still did not understand, she felt a touch of relief.
"Then… about my proposal yesterday…"
"Yeah. I'll take it."
From that day on, she learned the Wallenstein family's swordsmanship from Louis. Hating the idea of being seen with him by others, she deliberately met him late at night in the training ground. Even though he surely understood why, Louis never commented on it. Contrary to Felice's expectations, there was no scheme behind his offer at all. He simply taught her the techniques and chatted about trivial things—mostly Louis talking while she listened. And it was rather enjoyable. Whether that enjoyment came from learning a new sword style or from spending time with Louis, she could not quite tell.
As they spent time together, the two of them grew steadily closer. She no longer ignored him when he spoke, and when they were alone Felice even shared many conversations with him. For someone as naturally quiet and blunt as she was, that was remarkable. The more time passed, the more Felice came to believe Louis was a good person. Growing closer still did not seem like such a bad idea.
On a day like any other, while he was teaching her swordsmanship—
"Get up. Call yourself a man and you're already down from just this much?"
"Ugh, I don't care. I'm resting. I'm tired."
"Hmph. Useless."
"Hey! After all the trouble I went to teaching you, that's harsh!"
"I was joking."
"Don't make jokes with a straight face, you idiot!"
"Hearing you yell like that, I'd say you've rested enough."
Felice had grown close enough to Louis to trade banter and jokes. Yet she still found it too embarrassing to thank him for teaching her the sword techniques, or to apologize for ignoring him before. She had rarely ever expressed her own feelings. Instead, she said to him,
"Hurry and get up. And…"
"Hm?"
"…Once I've learned everything, next I'll teach you my family's swordsmanship."
Felice's face flushed red. That was the greatest apology she could offer, and at the same time a show of gratitude.
In the end, however, she never finished learning the Wallenstein sword arts from Louis. Nor did she ever teach him her family's techniques.
It happened on a weekend when she made time to visit her family home. While dining with relatives she had not seen in a long while, they exchanged the usual polite conversation about academy life.
"I heard you ended up in the same party as the Epsilt ducal heir."
"Yes, Father."
"How is he? Have you grown close?"
Felice hesitated a moment before answering carefully.
"…From what I have seen, he does not strike me as a particularly diligent or admirable person."
"Mind your tongue. He is of one of the three founding ducal houses of the Empire. Show him the respect that is due. You have not committed any discourtesy, I trust?"
She shook her head. She had almost retorted without thinking, Isn't the Wallenstein family the same?—and the fact that she had nearly talked back to her father shocked her.
"Good. Be sure to stay on friendly terms with him."
Then her mother spoke up.
"Oh! That reminds me—at the last tea party I heard a rumor that you've been getting close to the Wallenstein boy."
The moment those words left her mouth, the atmosphere in the dining room turned ice-cold.
"What is the meaning of that?"
The count's voice was frigid. She could have denied it, or apologized. There were several options open to her. Of them all, Felice chose to defend Louis. The old her could never have imagined doing such a thing, yet now she desperately wanted to. At the same time she held a faint hope that if her father learned what kind of person Louis truly was, he might change his mind.
"Father, Louis Wallenstein is not the terrible person everyone says. In fact, unlike his family, he—"
Bang!
Felice went deathly pale and shut her mouth. The count had risen from his seat.
"Never let such words reach my ears again. That is an order."
The count's word was absolute.
After that, Felice and Louis's relationship reverted to how it had been before they grew close. No—it became even worse. Louis wanted at least to know why she was acting this way, but Felice pushed him away and, following her father's command, instead tried to strike up conversations with Leo Epsilt. She had always been blunt, yet even Louis could clearly sense the difference. To shove away the Louis who kept clinging to her, she deliberately treated him coldly. In the end Louis seemed to grow disappointed in her as well. For some reason that fact made her chest ache.
Then, not long ago, Leo Epsilt—who had clashed with Louis over every little thing—proposed expelling him from the party. Honestly, she did not want to. Even if she could no longer be close to him as before, if he left the party it would truly be the end. Yet she could not oppose it. She could not allow word to spread that she had spoken against Louis's expulsion. She could not disappoint her father again. If the disappointed count decided not to pass the family headship to her, everything she had lived for until now would be denied.
Even so, deep down she had cheered for Aine, who held out in opposition until the very end. In the end Aine switched to agreement as well. On the day they declared his expulsion, Felice too felt a little disappointed in Louis. He had deliberately provoked a gargoyle they had no reason to fight and put the party in danger. Yes—she had decided to end everything while still feeling that disappointment.
Today, a letter arrived for her.
A letter informing her that their territory had been attacked by a swarm of gargoyles.