Freshman Welcome Party (1)
Roy spent the next several days in a whirl of constant motion.
He had thrown himself into the groundwork for making money in the capital, and it left him no room to breathe. Even so, he had barely managed to get started. He had done this sort of thing once before and had expected it to come easily—yet without merchants he could freely command, progress crawled at a painfully slow pace.
"If I'd known it would turn out like this, I should have brought them all with me. If Corks himself couldn't come, at least his son."
"It wouldn't have been that simple even then. They have no foundation in the capital either. Starting from scratch would have been the same for them."
"Ah… I was slow to understand."
"Don't worry about it. More importantly, I have to attend the entrance ceremony today, so I need you to ask around and find me some useful merchants. If you go to the Karl Mercenary Group, they ought to be able to help."
"I will see to it at once. But will you truly be all right at the Knight Academy without me?"
"Come on, of course I'll be fine. Anna already gave me the rough explanation. There won't be any problems."
"Very well. Then I shall do as you say."
Roy left the business preparations in Marek's hands and set out for the academy. The distance was not particularly great, but as befitting a noble he rode in a carriage with Anna.
"Do well. And don't cause any trouble."
"Sure. But they said this whole week is nothing but banquets anyway. What kind of trouble could I possibly get into?"
"Even so. You talk back to older people, so you're a danger."
"That's only because the other person is Anna."
Anna puffed her cheeks out until they were round as apples and glared at him with open dissatisfaction.
"Just be careful. Most of them come from houses with higher ranks than ours."
"To think the day would come when I take advice from Anna… People really do have to live a long time to see everything, don't they?"
"Treating me like your little sister at school is absolutely forbidden!"
"Okay, okay. See you this evening."
"Mm."
And so Roy's first day at the Royal Knight Academy finally began.
The Royal Knight Academy stood at the far eastern edge of Crown City. The grounds alone were larger than the whole of Parolas; the scale was staggering. Admission was permitted only to the children of titled noble houses, so the student body was not especially large—yet neither the grandeur of the facilities nor their sheer size left anything to be desired.
No matter how splendid the place looked, however, it remained first and foremost a knight academy. Whether one studied the sword, the spear, or magic, everything had to be performed equally well from horseback. A knight who could not handle a horse was simply unthinkable.
Come to think of it, I ought to buy a proper horse. I can hardly show up at a knight academy riding a carriage nag, can I?
Anna stepped down from the carriage bearing the Greenhilt crest and vanished without a backward glance. Roy made his way alone toward the place she had described to him in advance—the largest building on the entire campus, spacious enough to hold every incoming student with room to spare.
As he drew nearer, the crowds ahead swelled dramatically.
The Grand Hall, was it? And they said the crown prince is coming? I suppose a first day for the great houses demands a spectacle this large.
Roy walked alone toward the entrance of the Grand Hall. At his waist hung both a magically enchanted sword and the blade the baron had recently given him as a gift. Across his back was strapped a staff nearly as long as he was tall.
Every eye turned toward him. He was the only person present who had appeared without a single attendant. Many of the other students had even arrived with their parents in tow—central nobles rooted in the capital, or families whose territories lay close by. Against that backdrop, a boy striding forward alone with perfect composure naturally drew every gaze in the vicinity.
"Who is that?"
"I have no idea. Why would he come without a servant?"
"He must have brought one and then sent him on an errand. Who would come here alone?"
Here and there, eyes widened at the sight of the long staff strapped to the boy's back. The children themselves mostly remained indifferent; the surprise belonged to the servants and parents.
"Roy!"
An angry girl's voice cut through the murmur. Roy turned without thinking. A tall, slender beauty in immaculate butler's attire—no, the little girl standing beside her.
It was Chloe.
"Oh? Chloe. It's been a while."
"What do you mean, 'a while'?!"
"Huh? Why are you so angry? Three days isn't that long, but I was happy to see you, so I said it."
"…That is not what I meant! You clearly told me I could visit your house whenever I wanted!"
"I did. Come anytime."
"…I already did. Yesterday! And you were out!"
"Ah, right. Someone said a visitor came yesterday—that was you? You should have sent word first. What am I supposed to do if you just drop by unannounced? I'm not home every single day. And why didn't you even leave your name?"
"…Hah. Fine. Forget it."
"Hm? Don't tell me you're angry just because you didn't get to see me? What was it about? Was it something important?"
"No. Could you move? I'd like to go inside."
"Ah—r-right…"
Chloe was thoroughly furious. Fair enough—making the trip only to find the person you came for was gone would irritate anyone. Sensing that something in their relationship had gone badly awry, Roy hurried after her.
"I'm sorry. Next time you want to come, just tell me. Actually, why don't we set a time right now?"
He kept talking as he followed, but the girl never once looked back. She simply walked ahead with her attendant. Then, without warning, she stopped, shot him a sharp glare, and—with a loud hmph!—strode off in the opposite direction.
…Honestly. What a difficult personality. What am I supposed to do with her?
To Roy, Chloe's face looked exactly like an ogre's heart-pouch mid-fermentation of Elven Liquor: one wrong move and it would burst, spilling everything onto the floor. He needed to stitch it shut before that happened. His mind was entirely occupied with the problem when yet more figures approached him.
The first was a girl.
"Um… excuse me, are you by any chance Lord Roy of House Greenhilt?"
"Yes. And you are?"
"Ah, hello. I-I'm… Sana Bitterleaf."
Bitterleaf?
Bitterleaf was the family name Ana had used before marrying the baron. The Bitterleaf barony lay directly north of Greenhilt lands. Though they were related by marriage and lived close by, the two houses did not visit each other often. In truth, the name was almost never mentioned inside the Greenhilt manor, so Roy possessed almost no information about them.
Even so, he could hardly treat her coldly in a place like this. Thinking of his mother Ana, he greeted Sana with deliberate warmth.
"Ah, hello. Does that make us cousins, then?"
"Yes. My father, the lord, is Aunt Ana's older brother."
When Roy responded kindly, Sana smiled with open delight.
Ah, so Sana is the daughter of Ana's brother—my maternal uncle. Got it.
"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Roy Greenhilt."
"Ah, I-I'm Sana—"
"I heard you a moment ago. I look forward to the next four years."
"Yes, I look forward to them too."
Quiet, gentle, and soft-voiced, Sana seemed almost out of place in an academy like this. Her slender wrists in particular made one wonder whether she could even grip a sword properly.
Can she even ride a horse? Well, if she turns out to be a mage it won't matter to me… but being from a baronial house with weak mana is a drawback.
Roy was already regarding every person present as a potential member of his future party, and he assessed her with that cool-eyed practicality.
"If you're finished with introductions, could you step aside for a moment?"
Another intrusion cut in—this time a boy roughly the same height as Roy.
"Ah, I'm sorry. I've taken up too much of your time—"
"No need for apologies. Just move. Good to meet you, Roy. I've heard a great deal about your reputation. I am Daniel Biswald."
Another nuisance has rolled right up to me.
Behind his smiling face, Roy's expression curdled. He already disliked the way the boy had treated Sana. And then there was that name—Biswald.
"A pleasure. Forgive me, but whose…"
Margrave Biswald, whose death had been rumored to be imminent for years, was still very much alive. Roy asked which of the margrave's sons had fathered the boy standing before him.
"Hm?"
The boy showed not the slightest comprehension.
"Forgive me, but what is your father's name, Lord Daniel?"
"My father? My father is, of course, Margrave Biswald himself."
"…Excuse me?"
Roy calmed his startled heart and re-examined the meaning of what he had just heard. Not the margrave's grandson—his son. That made him the brother of Benjamin Biswald, the nearly forty-year-old man Roy had seen at that seventh-birthday party years ago.
A late child, then? Well, it was possible. Ten years earlier the margrave's illness had not yet begun.
Roy forced himself to focus and studied the boy in front of him.
Daniel… Daniel… That's strange. He wasn't in the information the baron gave me…
The baron had ordered the butler Ibaldo to prepare a list of every child the same age as Roy who would be entering the Knight Academy that year. From that list he had selected several houses that required caution and handed them to Roy. Roy had memorized them thoroughly. The faces were all unknown, but names would become familiar soon enough once academy life began. What mattered was their backgrounds—nothing more.
Yet something was wrong. The name Biswald had not appeared on that list at all. Roy could not understand how that was possible; if a Biswald were enrolled, the name would never have been omitted.
He let none of his confusion show and simply returned the greeting.
"I look forward to the next four years, Lord Daniel."
"Likewise. I've heard the rumors that you defeated James, Benjamin's son. I look forward most of all to the day I face you myself in this academy."
"…What?"
What kind of absurd statement was that?
Why would the margrave's own son want to face me?