The Truth About Aidan
"Why shouldn't I? Are work-study students not allowed to own anything expensive?"
It was Eli. He burst out, the emotions he'd been holding back finally spilling over.
"Aidan would never steal!"
"That's right! He's a bit rude, sure, but he's a good guy!"
Once Bayul and Schubik chimed in, several of the students who were close to Aidan began nodding along — yeah, that's right, that's right.
"Says who? You've got no proof, do you?"
Sensing the mood turning against him, Jared played his last card.
"Nathan?"
At his call, a boy named Nathan shuffled out, hunched and hesitant. He had so little presence that few knew him well, but he was one of Jared's lackeys.
"I heard it from Nathan himself. He saw it with his own eyes."
"Saw it? You mean he witnessed the theft?"
"Yes. He saw everything — the stealing, and the selling afterward."
"That's garbage! He didn't steal anything, so what exactly did he sell? You think I don't know you two are cooking this up together?"
"Aidan, what kind of language is that! Watch your mouth!"
"What's wrong with what I said? Is it a crime to call garbage garbage?"
"Why, you little—!"
"Aidan!"
Bayul and Eli hastily grabbed hold of him. They were just as furious, but getting worked up now would do no one any good.
Heh. Feeling ready to lose your mind over how unfair this is?
Jared, meanwhile, was triumphant. Everything was unfolding exactly according to script. Professor McKellen's appearance hadn't been part of the plan, but if anything, it was making things go even more smoothly.
Jared knew the type Professor McKellen belonged to. The man was ambitious. He might be wasting away as a mere professor for now, but his goal was to eventually enter politics — and he was courting Jared this assiduously in service of that goal, hoping to earn favor with Jared's father, who presided over the Imperial Council.
Let's just sit back and watch how he wraps this up, shall we?
As Jared took a step back, Professor McKellen barked as though he'd been waiting for the opening.
"Theft is a serious offense! You should be groveling on the ground begging forgiveness, yet you refuse even to show an ounce of remorse and carry on like a common thug. I cannot let this stand!"
At last, the hour of reckoning. How long had he waited for this day? Jared could have danced for joy.
"I will convene the Disciplinary Committee, where your crimes will be judged and your punishment handed down!"
"W-wait a moment! The Disciplinary Committee? What has Aidan done that warrants that? Aren't you jumping the gun, listening to only one side of the story?"
The Disciplinary Committee was not something convened casually. It only assembled for major incidents — campus violence, property destruction, and the like — and the punishments it handed down were never light.
"The stolen goods aren't just one or two items, and we have a witness to the theft itself. Yet Aidan clings to his denials to the very end. What choice is there? The Committee must render a verdict."
"The only evidence is one side's word. Professor, doesn't that strike you as strange at all?"
"Why won't you believe us and only listen to them?"
"Jared has been itching to get his claws into Aidan for ages. This whole thing is his scheme!"
Eli and Bayul protested, with Schubik joining in, but it was no use. Professor McKellen's resolve was ironclad.
"Until the Disciplinary Committee convenes, Aidan is barred from attending classes. He will reflect quietly in his dormitory!"
"Exams are coming up. Please let him attend class!"
"He may not even be allowed to remain at the Academy, and he wants to attend class? He should just quietly—"
"Why is it so noisy out here? First period is about to start — what's everyone gathered around for? Something entertaining happen first thing this morning?"
"Professor Rothius!"
The voice belonged to Professor Rothius. The students brightened at his arrival and parted to make way.
"Oh, Professor McKellen, you're here too. What's going on?"
"Ah, yes. Well, you see…"
McKellen's attitude toward Rothius was oddly strained. He coughed a couple of times, then gave a brief account of the situation.
"…So Aidan's been framed as a thief, and the Disciplinary Committee is being convened on that basis?"
"Yes, exactly. It would be best if the boy confessed and repented quickly, but he insists he's innocent, so…"
"So this is the saddle in question."
Professor Rothius picked up the saddle. All trace of its original pristine state was gone — it was covered in filthy, muddy grime.
"Tsk. This is not an object to be handled so carelessly…"
"What is that supposed to…?"
"Ah, I wonder if you're aware of this, Professor McKellen. Many years ago, a swarm of wyverns attacked the Imperial Palace. Wyverns aren't creatures that live in groups by nature, but that time — strangely — they did."
"You don't mean the Sky Invasion?"
"Oh, so you do know! Yes, exactly. The leader of that swarm was a red wyvern named Kaisei, and he was absolutely enormous. A wyvern that breathed fire, no less — a most unusual beast."
The so-called Sky Invasion — in which solitary wyverns suddenly appeared as a swarm and assaulted the Imperial Palace — was an incident significant enough to be recorded in the histories. The fighting dragged on for four months, costing countless lives, and left the palace burned and the capital in chaos.
"You're aware that an enormous bounty was placed on Kaisei's head, aren't you? People flooded in from every corner of the country, hoping to turn their fortunes around. They say the cities, already reeling from the war, were nearly paralyzed by the crowds."
"I'm roughly familiar with it, yes, but why bring that up all of a sudden…?"
"Ah — this saddle. It's made from that beast's hide."
"…I beg your pardon?"
"Back then, His Majesty promised that whoever defeated Kaisei would receive not only the reward money but the beast's hide as well. For three long months, not a soul could so much as clip a piece of its tail, and His Majesty was beside himself. That was when our hero, Count Leonett, appeared — looking rather sorry for the beast, I'm told!"
Professor Rothius's eyes softened as he gazed down at the saddle.
"Aidan, is Count Leonett still well?"
"Of course. Still hale and hearty as ever."
"Good. When you go home this weekend, give him my regards. Be sure to tell him I'm sorry I don't visit more often, too."
Professor Rothius gave the saddle a rough wipe with his sleeve and handed it to Aidan.
"Passing a wyvern-hide saddle down to his grandson. That's the Count for you."
"Wait till you hear how I managed to get my hands on it. You'll be shocked."
"I can imagine. When it comes to that man, I know a thing or two myself."
"P-Professor Rothius! What is all this talk? G-Grandson?"
McKellen's eyes wavered. His mouth had gone bone-dry, and some instinct told him this was about to end very badly.
"Did I not say so? This saddle belongs to Kaisei himself. Think of it as a trophy of war."
"Th-then…!"
He didn't bother repeating that Aidan was the Count's grandson. Everyone had already heard it. Professor McKellen and every student gathered there stared at Aidan, faces frozen in astonishment.
And what kind of family was House Leonett? Not only was it an old and storied noble line — if you asked anyone to name the richest family in the Empire, theirs would be the first name on every pair of lips. The sheer scale of their wealth was staggering.
Salt mines, railway companies, multinational merchant guilds — the conglomerate had its fingers in nearly every industry, and its head was also the master of Carrington itself, the largest city in the south and home to Carrington Academy.
That Aidan — mocked as a pauper, laboring away as a work-study student — was a descendant of House Leonett was beyond belief. Stunned by an entirely unforeseen reversal, Jared could only gape, his mind gone blank. Even Bayul and Eli, Jared's closest associates and steady suppliers of coin(?), were struck dumb.
Chapter 8 — The Ally's True Identity
"So. You're telling me this is real."
Eli circled Aidan with his arms crossed. No matter how many times he thought about it, it was absurd. How could this guy be a son of House Leonett! And not some distant branch of the family, either — a direct descendant, the Count's second grandchild, no less.
"Haah! Is that everything?"
"…Huh?"
"I said, are you hiding anything else? You might as well spill it all now, while you have the chance!"
"I wasn't hiding anything. I just never brought it up."
"That IS hiding it, genius? I didn't even know you were a noble!"
"That part doesn't matter."
"Right, doesn't matter at all. I'm just the only one who looks like an idiot."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I barely scrape by on weekend jobs while I've been throwing money around like a fool for the son of House Leonett. How hilarious is that? Don't tell me you were laughing at me in your head every single time?"
Eli had always secretly considered himself a cut above Aidan, subsisting as he did on weekend part-time work. His hourly wage was decent enough that he was relatively comfortable. But relatively was the operative word — he was still, in the end, a poor student.
"Why would I laugh at you? I was grateful for every bit of it. And sure, my family's rich — but I'm broke, and that's the truth too. I'm attending the Academy on the condition that I receive zero support from them."
"Wait, what? You don't take their money?"
"Grandfather disapproves. He couldn't understand why I'd go somewhere that costs money when I could just work under Father."
"You mean the business?"
"Yeah. It's the family trade, and I want no part of it. Commerce isn't my style — I'd honestly rather die than work alongside my brother."
"Aidan…"
Bayul, who had been listening quietly, was startled. Were things bad between him and his brother?
"Ah, don't get the wrong idea. Our temperaments just don't mesh. Call it oil and water."
Aidan explained with a laugh, Bayul's concern written plainly across his face.
"Anyway, that's why my financial situation won't be changing until the day I graduate. So bear with me a little longer, my friends!"
"Don't grin with a face like that. It's deeply unsettling."
One of Aidan's eyes was swollen nearly shut — who knew how many blows it had taken in that brief span? The gashes on his forehead and cheek were vivid, and his lip was crusted with blood.
"When is the priest supposed to get here, anyway? Are we going to miss second period at this rate?"
By Professor Rothius's stern orders, the group had skipped first period to come to the temple. They'd been told a healer would arrive shortly, but more than twenty minutes had passed without a word.
"He'll be here soon. You guys go on ahead — I'm fine on my own."
"Like hell. We're staying."
"I'm seriously fine."
"Fine, my foot. Can you even see out of that thing?"
At Eli's jab, Aidan cracked a grin and pointed to his uninjured eye.
"Heh. I dodged well enough on this side."
"What about everywhere else? You sure nothing else is hurt?"
"This is nothing. I took way worse than this when I was a kid."
This was a body that hadn't even cried when it fell from a climbing vine and broke both its legs. If Quinn hadn't doused them with a wall of water, Aidan probably would have fought on until his bones gave out entirely.
"Hey, Quinn. Thanks for earlier. You took my side all the way — I was a little touched, honestly?"
"Regrettably, that wasn't me."
"…Huh?"
Quinn's impassive gaze slid toward Bayul.
"Um… that is…"
Bayul fidgeted for a moment, then confessed.
"It was me. That was me."