The Count's Daughter
"Don't pry."
"Ah! Sorry. I was just curious."
Stella Rackton immediately put on an apologetic expression. Whatever her intentions, she didn't seem hostile toward me.
"What the hell are you really trying to say? You planning to threaten me or something?"
"Me? Threaten my professor? No way."
Of course she couldn't threaten me. All mages with a PhD receive noble treatment. It's not a hereditary title, so it's not exactly the same, but no one treats us like commoners either. And a professor at a magic university? That's at least baron-level respect. The Racktons might be a count's family, but Stella wasn't the head or even the heir. No student could boss me around like a lackey.
"Then what's your angle?"
"I'm just really interested in swords, that's all."
"Doesn't seem like it."
I pointed at her hand. Stella followed my gesture and spread her palm open. White and pretty, with slender, delicate fingers. No calluses anywhere. I even checked her palm and knuckles just to be sure— all soft. If you're into flowery bullshit, you could call it "silk-smooth." The only firm spot was between her middle and index fingers—the part you use to grip a pen. That alone screamed "bookworm." She didn't strike me as some naive girl daydreaming about fairy-tale knighthood.
"These aren't the hands of someone who's ever held a sword. You don't seem that interested."
"Ah, um! Y-yeah... you're right, but...!"
I'd hit the nail on the head; her face flushed, and she started stammering. She cleared her throat with a "Ahem! Cough!" before regaining her composure. Then she flashed that bright smile again.
"You're right. I'm no swordswoman. But I am really interested in swords. Specifically, magic swords."
"Why would a non-swordswoman care about magic swords?"
"I'm into enchantment magic! Doesn't have to be weapons. Anyway, metal's a tricky material, right? And you seem like an expert, so I figured this was my chance!"
If that was true, she had a rough road ahead. Why bother?
"Next time, just ask normally."
"I was going to, but that sword made it impossible. There's this sword nut in my family, so I know a thing or two. But I'd never seen anything like that."
Was the Rackton Count a warrior? I couldn't remember. Maybe it was about a brother, not her father. His sons were grown by now. I almost probed for confirmation, but swallowed my words—didn't want to waste more time.
Damn, I shouldn't have shown the sword. I'd grabbed it on a whim because forging a longsword just to demo in class was too much hassle. Should've had Arienael fetch one.
"That all?"
Time had flown while we talked. We'd wasted way too much on pointless chit-chat. I should've prepped an experiment for Arienael. Toss her a paper to review? Or move up tomorrow's task. Work always piles up when you're busy. I could already hear her complaining.
"...Professor?"
Wait, I really could hear her. She'd griped endlessly over one report. Back when I was a master's student, I never imagined this crap.
"Professor?"
"Ah! Hello. You're the TA, right?"
It wasn't a hallucination—Arienael for real. Time flew that fast?
"What are you doing? Haven't you gone to the lab yet?"
"A student from class had questions, so we were chatting."
Arienael narrowed her eyes suspiciously and glanced at Stella. Stella beamed back and grabbed Arienael's hand.
"Senior! I've wanted to meet you one-on-one. You've been famous since enrollment—I was dying to get close. Fate's funny, huh?"
"Ah... r-really? Nice to meet you."
"I know! You looked stunning from afar, but up close? Even prettier! Oh, can I call you senior?"
"Sure..."
"I've wanted to buddy up forever, but meeting in class? And you joined Professor Atwill's lab~."
"...Yeah."
Her stickiness was beyond anything Arienael or I could imagine.
"Well, I'll head out! Sorry for taking so much of your time, Professor! See you in next class, senior!"
"Yeah. See you."
*
"She's gone."
"Yep."
"What were you two talking about for so long?"
"Nothing much."
I recapped my chat with Stella Rackton. Zero substance, naturally.
"Really nothing? You talked for over an hour?"
"Not quite that long. Anyway, total time sink."
Arienael looked dissatisfied, questions lingering.
"Why the face?"
"It was weird. No real questions—just her yapping about herself."
"True."
"To me, her target wasn't magic. It was you. Answering loud in class, asking questions every time? Stamping her presence."
Was it? I hadn't noticed. Whatever her game, she kept it from embarrassing me, so I appreciated it.
"And when I showed up, she bailed fast. We barely got to real talk before she ends it?"
"Yeah. Just chit-chat in the end."
Exactly. The sword talk had me thinking we'd hit the main point.
"Does that make sense? A student drags a professor for small talk?"
"It happened."
"Hah, sure it did."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Noble ladies did corner me for pointless talks sometimes. This one just dragged on because I couldn't cut it short easily.
"Anyway, shouldn't you be careful?"
"Why?"
"You're a renowned mage. Everyone's eyeing your research. What do you think someone approaching openly wants?"
I could say this confidently: pointless worry.
"Steal my data? Won't happen. Don't stress—my research is safe."
"...Fine. Drop it."
I figured she'd push more, but she backed off quick. Lecture aftermath must've worn her out.
"How was class?"
"Asking already? Yeah, informative. Though that tedious name popping up nonstop nearly pissed me off."
"Names that frequent in lectures? There's a reason. Studying that person's work deepens your spellcraft understanding."
"I do it plenty without you saying."
Arienael was extra snippy today. I hadn't badmouthed anyone, but she'd suffer under another prof.
"Anyway, since you're here, let's hit the storeroom. Stuff to move."
"More materials ordered?"
"Nah, class supplies. Lab Friday, right? Prep the materials early. Was gonna do tomorrow, but might as well now."
"Experiment class starts day one?"
"Yep. Weekly—can't waste the first on orientation."
Curriculum had buffer, but conferences and trips needed cushion.
Arienael and I walked to the materials storeroom. Under ten minutes. Of the magic department's warehouses, this was the sloppiest—cheap, common stuff. High-traffic spots don't need heavy guards; too hard anyway. Empty now.
"First time here. Wild variety. We can just take what we need?"
"Nope. Department property—not free-for-all."
"Even for professors?"
"Costs money. Emergencies only, not like it's mine. Need experiment plans, approvals. Hassle, especially here—poor management. No point grabbing sketchy stuff that way."
"Shame."
No valuables here. But stocking my lab with this range? Blow the whole budget. Too many items, small buys jack up unit costs. Department bulk buys sold cheap would work, but no flexibility.
"What's the first class making? Never heard of this."
"Potions. Starting familiar since you might assist."
"Stamina recovery?"
"No. Basic antidote. Bit trickier."
"Kinda worried. Supervising something I've never made..."
Her words made me smug about my foresight.
"Don't sweat it! That's why I prepped."
She didn't look reassured.
"...What now?"
No respect for her professor.
"You'll brew antidote today. Told them it was for trial run—department's notified."
"Knew it..."
Quick acceptance—proper grad student material.
"Wait—didn't you say procedures suck for department stuff?"
"Class prep, so abbreviated."
"And?"
"Post-experiment report gets approval."
"Another report? By Friday?"
"I got leeway. Monday morning's fine."
"Aaaaaaaah!"
Arienael wailed like a banshee. First time seeing an elf emote that wildly—refreshing. Maybe I'd succeeded in teaching her human passion?