Sylvia's Ulterior Motive
Sylvia's Ulterior Motive
Gentle morning sunlight streamed through the café window.
Sylvia's hair, caught in the light, shimmered with a soft golden glow.
There was something uniquely special about sunshine pouring into a teahouse on a weekday morning.
"Mmm. This really is a charming little teahouse. And I love how quiet it is."
Sylvia closed her eyes as though savoring every note of the black tea.
True to her word, the place was perfectly peaceful.
I wonder if the hype about this being a great spot only came much later.
Off in the distance, a maid clutched a tray to her chest, teary-eyed and visibly moved. She might well have been the proprietor.
"Ian. Your taste might actually be fairly decent. For a commoner."
"Thanks—wait."
I caught the jab halfway through my reply.
"Hey. I'm a noble too, you know."
"Oh my!"
Sylvia covered her lips with one slender hand.
That expression of feigned surprise was utterly infuriating — perfectly, slyly executed.
"Forgive me. I've recently discovered that teasing you is quite entertaining."
Fortunately, I'm generous by nature. If the chance ever came, I'd repay her. With that vow, I bit into a cookie.
Mm. It really does melt in your mouth.
When I gave a thumbs-up to the lady owner who'd been watching us, her face instantly brightened.
"Anyway!"
Sylvia interposed herself between the owner's gaze and mine.
"Back to the main point. The person who contributed the most in this incident was Sharon Pierce."
"What were we even talking about?"
"About how to improve your reputation, Ian! Why don't you — the actual subject of this — care at all? Honestly."
Sylvia puffed out her cheeks a little.
Truthfully, I'd been giving it a lot of thought: Did I actually need to improve my reputation?
I've gotten used to Pongpongi's body by now, anyway.
Even the contemptuous glares that came my way just for existing — mostly from female students — had become familiar.
Above all, public places like the tram and the library were remarkably comfortable. Nobody ever wanted to sit near me.
As I was thinking that, Sylvia narrowed her eyes and asked,
"You were thinking something utterly pointless, weren't you?"
"Not at all. But I do have a concern."
"And what is that?"
"That it might become troublesome if I end up too famous."
"Huh?"
Sylvia gave me a blank stare.
Then, without warning, she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach.
"Pfft! Pff-hahahah! Pff-hahahah!"
She laughed so hard she was crying.
Who would believe she was the daughter of a prestigious merchant house?
"Hey. Show a little dignity."
"Pfft! Ahem. Ahem! S-sorry... Pfft!"
Barely managing to suppress it, she wiped away her tears.
"Ahem... No, Ian. Where does that confidence come from? Do you think getting famous is that easy? I alone invest a fortune into managing my image... Pfft."
An argument I couldn't refute.
I drank my tea in silence.
The aftertaste was bitter.
"Well, the confidence is nice, at least. Anyway. The real point."
Before I knew it, Sylvia had resumed her haughty young-lady demeanor.
"No matter what anyone says, the true hero of this incident is Sharon Pierce. Everyone is cheering for what she accomplished. She alone cut down four Blood Rock cultists."
I nodded.
Stopping Rina Rosewell had been more of a preventive measure. After all, the only victim had been that girl lying in bed with a dazed expression.
By contrast, Sharon had cut down actual cultists.
It was only natural that her achievements stood out more.
"But I think you are no less impressive in your own way, don't you? In fact, a number of professors thought so as well."
Sylvia went on with real fervor.
"You properly restrained Miss Rina, and most importantly, you proposed research into a cure for the blue mushrooms. That credit is hardly insignificant. Thanks to that, several infected students returned to normal. But, more to the point."
Sylvia leaned in across the table.
Through the pale, translucent strands of her blonde hair, she whispered.
"Just how did you know to ask the professor to research a cure? Do you have some sort of informant?"
"Mere coincidence. The things were obviously poisonous."
"That's not what I... Hmph. So it's a secret, then? Fine. It wouldn't be proper to go prying into someone else's trade secrets."
Sylvia, who'd been pursing her lips, continued.
"In any case. Try to focus a bit more on the ability assessments. If you make a few good impressions, I suspect people's perceptions of you will shift quickly. I'm certain you won't be dismissed the way you are now, at the very least."
She had a point. Right now, my reputation was stuck so deep in the gutter that it attracted all the wrong attention. If I could find a proper balance, it would become far easier to quietly observe from outside the story, barely noticeable.
"Even if your image remains flawed, there is a world of difference between a skillless jerk and a jerk who has the skills."
To be honest, I wasn't exactly short on confidence about putting on a good showing in the ability assessments.
I'd felt myself grow considerably through this scenario. Not just my Authority — my mana had taken a step forward, too.
In short, there was absolutely no downside to taking Sylvia's advice.
It almost felt like learning strategies from a seasoned veteran, a true master of the game.
Well, Sylvia is a master of image-making, after all.
Even with the occasional ditziness she let slip, Sylvia was a remarkably popular figure — a status owed to her trademark blend of noble haughtiness and sophistication.
A sudden question surfaced in my mind.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
At the question, Sylvia flinched and froze as if she'd suffered a system malfunction.
"A-ah, an investment. You do appear to have considerable potential."
Despite her words, her eyes brimmed with embarrassment.
When our gazes met, her eyes smoothly slid away.
I briefly revisited what I knew about her.
Sylvia had practically grown up alone, thanks to her perpetually busy parents.
On top of that, she'd been receiving succession lessons from the moment she learned to speak.
She'd gained subordinates before she ever had friends.
"Hmm. You don't have some other motive, do you?"
That was why I found myself worrying: maybe she's feeling lonely right now.
But perhaps she'd misunderstood my meaning a little.
Sylvia's face flushed crimson.
"Wha-wha-what absurd thoughts are you entertaining! As if I were scheming to welcome you as son-in-law of the Laurent Company! I have never — not even once — entertained such a notion! It is a hundred years too soon! Hmph!"
Sylvia had jumped to her own conclusions and worked herself up entirely on her own.
Still, the way she kept sneaking glances, flinching and blushing every time our eyes met, was highly amusing.
"I was going to ask if you needed a friend."
"Hngh!"
"Since you seem to be all work and no friends."
"Th-that is because I am far too busy to make any!"
"Is that so?"
She nodded furiously, then glanced up at me.
"Well... having one might be pleasant, perhaps...?"
She said that, then brought her teacup to her lips as though to steady herself.
She took a light sip, hummed a soft "Mmm," and returned the cup to its saucer without a single clink.
A truly elegant, noble gesture.
If not having friends was one facet of her human side,
then another facet of Sylvia Laurent was that she was not someone who moved purely on emotion.
She was the successor and vice-leader of one of the continent's foremost trading companies.
Even when she occasionally acted ditsy, it was safe to assume calculation always ran beneath her actions.
Like pulling Rina Rosewell from the disciplinary committee.
Or looking after me like this right now.
She was clearly trying to gather people around her.
If I were to guess at the reason.......
A rather plausible conclusion took shape.
"Are you getting ready to fight? With Emilia's Raymond Company."
Sylvia's hand, moving toward the teacup, stopped dead in its tracks.
The gaze she fixed on me was deathly serious.
"You are quite perceptive."
"I suppose so."
"Well. Not right now, but... a major figure is about to enroll at the academy — Ah."
She quickly pressed a hand to her mouth.
"Please forget I said that. It's classified."
I shrugged.
I had a rough idea of who she was talking about.
"I will need a great many allies. And part of me hopes you'll be on my side when that time comes."
"I'm a bit expensive to buy."
"I am aware. I already owe you a great deal. So please, tell me if you have any problem. Like the elixir last time. I have so much to repay you for."
I smiled faintly at her words.
"No thanks."
"...Excuse me? In a situation like this, the sensible thing is to say yes!"
"Nah."
The corners of my lips curled upward.
Sylvia, who'd been cheerfully teasing me just moments before, suddenly felt a chill run down her spine.
"I'm going to wait until you come begging: 'Please, please, let me repay my debt.'"
"...I beg your pardon?"
"You'll become a debtor, living each day ever deeper in my debt. A vice-leader in debt, so to speak."
Debtor.
Sylvia's shoulders quivered at the word.
"......I hate that."
As her breathing grew ragged, I gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Calm yourself, Sylvia. Take a deep breath and listen to me."
"Mmm..."
"Now. Close your eyes and imagine."
"Yes..."
"A snowball of debt, swelling day by day. The sound of the interest you owe me compounding every single day."
"Ah, a..."
Shiver.
Sylvia's eyes grew hazy as a tremor ran through her entire body.
I chuckled and gave her shoulder a light pat.
"It's a joke. Why do you look like you've just lost your country?"
"Y-you, Ian!!"
Revenge accomplished.
A satisfied smile spread across my face.
Well, that was enough petty revenge.
Since being possessed, this was the first time anyone had looked out for me like this.
I cleared my throat and spoke earnestly.
"Thanks. For looking out for me."
"Hmph!"
Sylvia pouted and sharply turned her head away.
Though she couldn't quite hide the twitching corners of her lips, which told a different story.
"......."
Perhaps realizing it herself, she hurriedly pulled out her Kirtos terminal and buried her face in it.
Then she stared at it with fierce concentration.
"What are you looking at?"
She peeked out just slightly and answered.
"There is a remarkably popular prophet on the Kirtos bulletin board lately. They accurately predicted the Medean House incident. Rumor has it they're the successor to a great astrologer. People say you have to post during this exact hour to get a reading."
And then Sylvia buried her head back into the terminal.
Anyway.
"Hm."
That spiel sounded awfully familiar.
I didn't even need to check the board; I could already picture exactly what was going on.
I rested my chin on my hand and fell into thought.
Maybe it's time to start preparing an investment.
If Sylvia was that absorbed, it was obvious without even looking how many divination requests must have piled up. Looked like I'd have spare funds soon.
"Sylvia. Do you happen to know a reliable trading guild?"
A grin crept across my lips.
◆
Meanwhile.
The temporary dormitory set up for Medean House students.
In one of the rooms, a girl stood blankly before a mirror.
Her red hair was slightly disheveled, as though she hadn't had time to brush it. The dark circles under her eyes stood out starkly against skin pale to the point of ghostliness.
It was Rina Rosewell, confined under disciplinary action.
"......."
Still staring blankly, she brought a hand to her neck.
A pitch-black choker.
More precisely, the handkerchief Ian had given her to conceal the handprint.
Even though the handprint had long since faded, Rina had not been able to remove it for days.
Because this was the only trace Ian had left on her.
"Ian......."
Standing before the mirror, Rina endlessly fiddled with the handkerchief.