The Lord's Family: Harmony Brings Prosperity — A Bleak Dinner
"Whether I teach the young master magic isn't a decision I can make on my own. I'm sorry, but might I postpone my answer?"
The truth was, I couldn't have taught him even if I'd wanted to. At the very least, Emil seemed to accept the reply; he nodded.
"I'm sorry for such a sudden request. I know it's an unreasonable thing to ask, and even if you were to grant it, I'm well aware I have nothing I could offer in return."
Emil twisted his lips as if sneering at his own wretchedness.
"But a desperate man will always find something to cling to. Of course, I won't resent you even if you refuse. I simply throw myself upon your mercy."
After a courteous apology and farewell, Emil turned his back. I cast Wall-Piercing Magic at that retreating figure. It wasn't for any particular reason — merely a flicker of curiosity that had occurred to me on the spot.
But the magic didn't take. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say it only half-took.
Information that ought to have materialized the instant the magic took hold came through as a hazy blur, refusing to resolve before my eyes.
It had worked when I'd used it on Master Luxria, a powerful mage in her own right. It had worked perfectly on Seras and Lady Sinclaire as well. So why?
If he'd deflected my magic, that I could have understood — but this was a complete amateur who'd never studied magic in his life.
"What's going on?"
"That means this Emil fellow is aware of his own kink — and at the same time, he's vehemently denying it."
When I reported what had happened with Emil, Master reached that conclusion at once.
"He's never even studied magic, though. And you're saying that just shutting his heart is enough to make the spell fail?"
"This magic interferes with a person's mind. It's an extremely delicate spell. If the subject has sealed their heart completely shut, of course it'll be hard to see anything."
Master appended a caveat to that.
"If it were merely a matter of not wanting others to see, your piercing magic would have punched right through. In this case, it has to be something stronger… yes. He has to hate his own kink at the level of hating himself."
"Hate his own kink? That sounds… incredibly painful, honestly."
That was basically the same as hating the self you'd been born as. I felt a sudden surge of pity for the man called Emil. More than the title of a young nobleman persecuted and tangled up in the conspiracies peculiar to the aristocracy, it was the man forced to hate the kink he'd been born with that pulled at my heart.
"You said this Emil fellow told you that if he stayed in this mansion, he'd be stained by sin? In that case, his kink is almost certainly some attribute that keeps getting stimulated for as long as he remains here."
Ironically, hatred shares similar properties with love. An attribute that wells up naturally no matter how hard you try to suppress it. An attribute that seeps into your words and actions even when you try not to be conscious of it. An attribute that, once you start focusing on it, leaves you with no energy to care about anything else.
Even if Emil himself wasn't particularly aware of it, his words and actions would surely be laced with wariness and hatred toward his own kink.
"Then how do I break through that barrier of the heart?"
"The simplest way is to make him accept the kink himself. Then the magic will be able to see through it. But I doubt that's very likely, do you?"
"So there's no other way?"
"Of course there is. Even an impregnable fortress has a method of being taken. If you want to storm a castle, you start by filling in the moat."
Luxria grinned a wicked little grin and made her declaration.
"Leave it to me. Originally I was planning to go after the Count first… but this Emil fellow is interesting, isn't he? I'm curious what kind of kink he's got locked up in that heart of his, to seal it away so thoroughly."
The following evening, at dinner, we were finally able to meet the master of this mansion.
"So you are the ones who will be Seras's private tutors. I trust my daughter to your care."
The man offering us this perfunctory greeting was Count Sinclaire himself. He was a man who shared more in common with his nephew Emil than with his daughter Seras.
A frail, scholarly impression. Gaunt cheeks. Poor posture that made his narrow shoulders all the more prominent. He'd inherited rather handsome features befitting Seras's father, but a gloomy expression and the dark circles under his eyes gave the strong impression of a gemstone left to rot. It was almost a shame — if he'd taken better care of himself, or if he'd been just five years younger, those natural good looks would have shone.
Worn down by the crushing duties of a territorial lord, the Count looked thoroughly exhausted. Beyond that brief greeting at the table, he showed us no further interest whatsoever. This was the first time he'd laid eyes on his only daughter's private tutors, so one might have expected a little more curiosity — but the lord's attitude was truly arid.
Lady Sinclaire, unable to watch any longer, spoke up.
"You really are a cold-hearted man. One would think you'd at least ask what kind of aptitude our daughter has — what kind of future awaits her."
The Count replied without so much as rolling those glass-bead eyes of his.
"I've already entrusted Seras's affairs to you, haven't I? What more could I possibly have to say at this point? I'm sure you'll manage well enough."
"Tsk… It's because you act like this that I can't have any peace of mind. As a husband and as a father, your sense of duty is far too lacking."
"You know as well as I do that I am not a man who can bear more than one duty at a time. Even serving as lord of this territory is almost more than I can manage as it is."
It was an exchange too pathetic to even describe as an argument. The wife complained; the lord let it slide. Not an ounce of productivity in it — nothing but each party's grievances stacking up, layer upon layer.
You invite guests over and then pull this at the dinner table? What is this?
The maids, who ought to have been watching their employers' faces, carried on as if this sort of thing were nothing new — as if it happened every other day. Back when I'd played the game, I'd thought, well, the household's a mess but it runs. Experiencing it in reality felt very different.
That was when Luxria jabbed me in the side.
"What is it, Master?"
"Try using Wall-Piercing Magic on the Count."
Faced with Luxria's look of keen interest, I promptly cast the piercing magic and studied the Count's face.
Ohh?
Was there really something going on with the men of this family? If it had just been Emil's kink hidden away, I would have thought, well, that's how it is — but the Count was denying his own kink this hard too? I could see why Luxria was so intrigued.
The kinks that Seras and Lady Sinclaire possessed were embarrassing by so-called common-sense standards as well. And yet I could see them just fine if I wanted to look. You'd usually think women would try harder to hide this sort of thing. Strange.
Come to think of it, Emil was nowhere to be seen at this family dinner. Well — even if he came, he'd be sitting on pins and needles. I supposed a maid would bring a meal up to his room later.
And so began a family dinner as bleak as they come. The only sounds throughout the meal were the clink of cutlery against crockery, joined at most by the occasional sip of soup from Luxria and myself. The Count, who finished eating with remarkable speed, rose from his seat the instant his plate was empty and retreated to his own chambers.
So that's why he had no presence in the original game.
"Tsk! What a thoroughly tedious man."
Insulting a man as a female was unbecoming of my station, but I could somewhat understand Lady Sinclaire's feelings.
"Ahem. It seems we've shown you a rather unsightly spectacle. My apologies. That man is, how shall I put it… to put it kindly, devoted to his work; to put it unkindly, he has no interest in those around him."
"As lord of the territory, I imagine the burdens on his shoulders are considerable."
"Well. I wonder."
Lady Sinclaire furrowed her brow, then, as if even holding onto that displeasure for too long irritated her, changed the subject.
"More importantly — when do you intend to begin Seras's lessons?"
"We're prepared to start as soon as tomorrow, of course. In fact, we'd already made a certain amount of preparations before even arriving at this mansion."
"That's good. Then begin the lessons without a day's delay. Learning is best begun a minute, a second sooner."
"Understood, my lady. …However, my lady, there is one matter I wished to report, if I may?"
"Speak."
"The truth is, yesterday, Emil Sinclaire asked my student for instruction."
I dropped the utensil I was holding.
Master!? Are you sure it's okay to just come out and say that???
Neither Lady Sinclaire nor Seras showed it as physically as I did, but both looked considerably shocked.
"Emil did? That? By learning, you don't mean…"
"Magic, of course. Upon examination, he too, as a scion of the Sinclaire bloodline, appears to have been born with considerable magical talent."
Luxria, who had never confirmed any such thing, lied without so much as twitching an eyebrow. Lady Sinclaire flushed, naturally, and ground her teeth.
"That rat of a boy, too sharp for his own good… Don't tell me he thinks that if he learns magic too, he can stand as Seras's equal? What a preposterous delusion…"
Seras, who had been sitting quietly, opened her mouth.
"So what did you decide? Did you accept?"
"It was Lady Sinclaire who hired us, so we couldn't make that decision on our own."
"Absolutely not. I already know that creature's filthy greed — how could I possibly permit it? Refuse him, firmly."
That much had been the expected course. Luxria proceeded to stoke Lady Sinclaire's anxiety.
"My lady. It may not be my place as an outsider to say this, but simply not teaching him may not be enough, don't you think?"
"…What do you mean?"
"Talent alone achieves nothing. That's true. But no one can guarantee how that talent might blossom, can they?"
The crease in Lady Sinclaire's brow deepened. Luxria did not let the opening slip, and pressed the attack.
"The best way to ruin a talent. That's to give them a bad teacher. Instill bad habits, inject false knowledge as if it were truth, and make them take the long way around even when a shortcut exists."
A peculiar light began to gleam in Lady Sinclaire's eyes.