Penalty Time (1)
The morning after the praise baptism, which had been pure hell, dawned—and there I was, buried in my blanket despite the sun having risen hours ago.
Under normal circumstances, I'd already be at the training grounds loosening up my body, same as every single day since I'd enrolled at the academy. But not today. Today I hadn't gone outside—hadn't even gotten ready to go outside.
If you asked me why, I'd have no reason to give. I just felt like being lazy, so I decided to be lazy. I've been sprinting myself half to death ever since I set foot in this world, haven't I? Doesn't a girl deserve a day of doing absolutely nothing once in a while?
And honestly, there was no desperate scrambling that needed doing at the moment anyway. Nakrad, who was supposed to be the villain of the second semester's main storyline, was currently buried in the Art Cult's underground facility being interrogated. What was the point of killing myself over that?
Back when I'd gone to meet the Art Cult Apostle to pick up my accessories, I'd asked him what exactly was being done with Nakrad. I'd left the man a wretched, laughable mess, but I hadn't cut his lifeline outright—so naturally I couldn't help wondering what he was up to down there.
The Apostle, as if he'd fully expected the question, told me without a moment's hesitation: first, that Nakrad had been rendered completely powerless so he couldn't pull any tricks; and second, that they were in the process of squeezing all manner of information out of him.
'Since we haven't finished cross-referencing everything yet, I can't tell you much at this stage. However, once it's all concluded, I'll relay the details to you through Lady Karia.'
His account had so many conspicuous holes in it that even I could spot them, but I didn't bother prying. Well, more accurately—there was no room to pry. The moment I'd opened my mouth to press the Apostle further, the Face-Con Fox had popped out and started demanding loudly to know where her portrait of me was.
The sight of the Fox clutching my bunny-girl portrait in its frame, wringing her paws in helpless adoration, made my eyes fill with pure disgust on reflex. And when she saw the accessories fastened in my hair and toppled over backward, I actually thought, please, just die like that.
My opinion hasn't changed. If the Fox had expired right then and there, there'd be no Fox today sprawled asleep, hugging the handkerchief I used yesterday and giggling to herself in her dreams.
...Thank goodness she wasn't beside me during yesterday's praise baptism, by the way. If she had been, what on earth would she have shrieked? Ugh. Just thinking about it makes my face burn all over again.
I never knew I was this defenseless against compliments. I know it's not like people were praising me on my own merits—they were watching the people standing next to me. I know almost none of it was sincere. But listening to all those voices springing up from every direction, my head got so tangled it went white, and nothing would come to me at all.
If Carl hadn't arrived mid-crisis and whisked me off under the pretext of needing to discuss the combat theory exam, I'd have made an emergency escape through the window. In any case, thanks to him finally acting like a proper escort knight for once, I escaped that hell—and I tried to express my gratitude to him somehow.
'I see our young lady has an endearingly tender side after all. His Lordship will be absolutely delighted when I report this.'
That single sentence obliterated every ounce of my gratitude. Carl—that idiot believed Arthur's group's misunderstanding like it was gospel. No, seriously, this makes no sense! Am I the kind of person who's considerate?! My usual image is the polar opposite of thoughtful! Where in this runt who runs around screaming loser and scatterbrain and idiot and hopeless scrub did he find room for that delusion?!
Flashing back to the praise baptism made me recoil in horror, and I threw everything I had into explaining it was all a misunderstanding—but that damned Carl just let my words flow in one ear and out the other.
'Ahaha. Of course, my lady. I'll take your word as the truth, of course... Kgh!'
My heartfelt punch to Carl's abdomen was legitimate self-defense. A mere guard dog attempting to tease his master? How insolent. I left him there milking a blow that hadn't even landed that hard and headed for the dungeon studies professor's office—there was still something I needed to tell her, and I'd promised it would come after her dungeon's demonstration run was over.
I figured if I waited in her office, she'd eventually return once the commotion settled, so I strolled down the corridor at my leisure. And as I walked, conversations drifted past my ears—ones I wasn't even trying to overhear. Conversations entirely different from what usually leaked out around me.
Normally, the chatter that followed in my wake amounted to nothing but she's annoying, she gives me the creeps, can't stand the sight of her. The academy was still stuffed to the rafters with people who hated me. They couldn't come at me openly, wary of my people and my household, but plenty of ugly talk still flowed behind my back.
Yet what reached my ears that day was, for the most part, beyond anything I could have imagined.
'Has she really changed?'
'She has! The young lady is a good pers—gasp! Forgive me, I raised my voice!'
'You think she just worries about the people close to her?'
'The Saintess wouldn't have said it for nothing. She must have repented, blessed by the Chief God.'
'I told you from the start, didn't I? That she's a good person. Someone willing to throw away her life to save a nobody like me—no way she's bad.'
'Were we the ones who had it wrong all along?'
People had actually appeared who believed what Arthur's group had said—to at least some degree! Their numbers were small, but the mere existence of anyone believing I'd changed was astonishing.
Because I'm Lucy! Think of the rampage the old Lucy went on! Does it sound remotely plausible that that lunatic changed?
Well... considering that most of the people having this conversation were commoners or low-ranking nobles—people who had no idea what Lucy used to be—it made sense that they'd tilt their heads in confusion. If they ever heard the list of things Lucy did in the past, there'd be no talk of change at all.
'They're giving that witch far too much credit.'
'She's obviously just planning to mock us and call us losers again.'
'Lucy Aln doesn't have an ounce of that kind of consideration in her.'
'Like that lunatic could ever change.'
The majority of academy students—in other words, the ones who knew exactly how Lucy Aln had operated in high society—didn't buy a word of Arthur's group's story. That wasn't all: they'd correctly grasped the original intent and even figured out the truth, that Arthur's group had simply misunderstood.
In my opinion, this side was the sane one. Consider the karma old Lucy racked up. Anyone who witnessed it firsthand would naturally conclude that Lucy Aln lacked the intelligence to consider other people's feelings. So overall academy opinion hadn't shifted much—
But hearing even a few voices of belief made me genuinely happy. Happy enough that, for a fleeting moment, I actually felt grateful to the three people who'd inflicted that humiliation on me.
Why only a fleeting moment? Because a little while later, I realized something important. The academy's shifting opinion was based on people who barely knew me—those who knew only the old Lucy, or who knew neither the old Lucy nor the current one at all.
So among that crowd, sure, someone might pop up with a hopeful thought. But what about the people close to me now?
'I understand the young lady bypassed protocol out of consideration for them, but I cannot grant them special treatment. It would compromise fairness.'
Carl's reaction was not dramatic at all! Anyone who knew I'd grown softer compared to my past had accepted Arthur's group's misunderstanding as gospel truth!
Under the dungeon studies professor's knowing smile, I desperately insisted it was all a misunderstanding, but she didn't believe a single word—she just took it for embarrassment being papered over. Watching the corners of her mouth creep steadily upward, I gave up on convincing her and simply changed the subject. Nothing I said would land, so I had no confidence in persuading her.
However she chose to interpret that maneuver, the professor obligingly moved on to the actual business. It was nothing earth-shattering: she planned to keep the final exam dungeon open until vacation started, and she wanted to publish my dungeon in an academic journal. That was the extent of it.
I'd grown deeply attached to the first dungeon I'd ever built, and I wanted more people to recognize its true worth, so I accepted her proposal. After that... well, nothing else happened. I'd skipped even my usual evening training and shut myself in the dorm—what was going to happen?
Knock, knock.
The sound of knocking pulled me out of my thoughts, and I held my breath.
"Young lady? Are you not in?"
"Lucy Aln. If you're in there, answer."
Damn it! I'd holed up here precisely to avoid meeting them, and they'd come looking for me themselves!
Pressing my lips tight, I tried to imitate the way Karia used to conceal her presence. I absolutely could not let them discover I was here. If they did, I'd get dragged out by the scruff and subjected to penalties!
"Strange. I was certain she hadn't gone out."
"Same here. Where could she have gone?"
Yes! That's it! Believe I'm not here and go search somewhere else! Hurry!
"No, everyone. The young lady is in this room."
At Phoebe's voice, I felt goosebumps break out across my skin and hugged my arms.
"I can feel warm divinity from inside. There's no way I could mistake the young lady's divinity for anything else."
Right. If I can locate Phoebe through her divinity, then Phoebe can locate me through mine! GYAAAH! How did I fail to remember something this basic?! I curse my stupid, stupid brain!
"Come out at once, Lucy Aln. If you keep this up, we'll have no choice but to change what we ask of you. For example... let's see. Wearing a maid's outfit for an entire day—"
'What kind of deranged nonsense is that?!'
"PUWAHAHA! Wow, Your Pitiful Highness! Have you given up even pretending not to be a pervert now?! Gross!"
"Who's a perv—ahem! In any case, come out! You've been found already!"
Guh! To slip up, stunned by an idea worthy of the Face-Con Fox herself!
I bit my lip in frustration, but there was nothing I could do. Bound by the penalty to obey their demands, I was the absolute bottom of the food chain. Dragging my unwilling feet to the door, I took one deep breath and opened it.
"Oh my. Did we just wake you?"
"This is my first time seeing the young lady so rumpled."
And there it was—Joy, Phoebe, and Arthur all gazing at me with indulgent smiles, exactly as I'd predicted. Except... no. Why was Arthur staring off into empty space? I'd fully expected him to have something snide to say.
As I puzzled over him, Frey popped out from behind Joy and blocked my view.
"Lucy. Lucy."
'...What?'
"Why. You do that. Dummy swordsman."
"Lucy's actually a bashful person, isn't she?"
The moment that guileless question hit me, my voice died in my throat. Tilting her head like she genuinely didn't know—that is pure evil. Even worse was the fact that Joy and Phoebe were openly wearing those loose, dreamy smiles.
Because those smiles meant that in their heads, I was already a tiny little girl who'd been caught being kind and was now embarrassed about it.
GYAAAAAH! I knew it! This is exactly why I didn't want to see them! Stop it! Don't look at me like that! Don't look at me with those eyes, I saaaid!