The Glove That Fell on My Chest
Zophie’s marksmanship was nothing short of terrifying. The three of us walked side by side toward the shooting range. The academy would lend practice swords to anyone without a fencing blade, but they didn’t extend the same courtesy to firearms. That was why this place felt noticeably quieter.
Unlike shooting ranges back in my old world, the one at the Imperial Magic Academy had no safety barriers or range officers. When I thought about it, it made sense. In a society where hunting was one of the nobility’s favorite pastimes, installing a bunch of safety measures just because some aristocrat wanted to fire a few rounds would have been the truly ridiculous part.
While Zophie poured gunpowder into her flintlock pistol, Erica and I picked up the conversation we’d been forced to abandon earlier.
“Be honest with me, Erica. Even my mother told me to get along with you this year since we’d be in the same class. Are you seriously telling me His Majesty sent you here without any orders at all?”
“There were orders,” Erica admitted in a voice as cold as frost.
The moment I heard that, my teeth ground together with an audible click. The truth was, my own involvement in all this was actually pretty thin. But my memories of Erica were so vivid that it felt like I had lived through every moment myself. No—technically this body really had lived through it all. The recollections from our childhood meeting all the way to the present had fused with my own until they were indistinguishable. That clarity, combined with the contradictions in the novel’s version of Erica, had ignited an uncontrollable storm of suspicion and rage inside me.
I couldn’t treat her with detached observation anymore. Because everything that had happened between us had become my story too.
“So you’re saying you’ll yield on the conditions that broke our last negotiation?”
“Let’s do this, Maria.” Erica couldn’t quite meet my eyes; her voice drifted between us. “In the future we share, it doesn’t matter who holds the power inside the household. Just respect the imperial family’s position in public matters. You know how damaging it would be if people misunderstood and thought the power balance between our houses had flipped.”
“You also know that exact public positioning is what ruined us in the first place.”
“The fact that you’re saying that with your own mouth means you have no intention of yielding to me either, Maria! How can this all be my fault alone!”
“Then you shouldn’t have refused my duel challenge.”
My words left Erica speechless. She seemed to be wrestling with what to say next when—
Bang!
The gunshot pierced our ears. The human-sized target Zophie had fired at, roughly a hundred and fifty meters away, flew backward from the impact. The wooden board automatically righted itself. From this distance we couldn’t see clearly, but it looked like a small bullet hole had punched straight through the head area.
Even Erica seemed impressed by how cleanly the target had been knocked over. She forgot whatever she’d been about to say and muttered,
“After today, I’d advise against casually increasing the distance between yourself and that maid of yours.”
“Yeah… At this range, the time it takes to notice you’re being aimed at, strip off a glove, and throw it would be shorter than the time it takes her to fire, wouldn’t it?”
Zophie didn’t seem to be listening to us at all. She grabbed the lever near the firing line and yanked it hard. The 150-meter target sank away, and a much smaller, almost toy-like human silhouette rose at what looked like the 250-meter mark.
“That’s not going to work, Zophie. To hit something that far with a pistol you’d need an army rifle or at least a shoulder stock attachment…”
“You’re right. I can barely even see it,” Zophie said.
Erica nodded in agreement. “Same here. Honestly, just hitting the previous one was already at a level you rarely see even in the military…”
Zophie reached into the inner pocket of the coat she’d taken off earlier and pulled out a pair of thin horn-rimmed glasses. Before I could even comment on them, she raised the pistol without hesitation, took aim, and fired.
Bang!
The 250-meter target slumped backward helplessly. As I watched Zophie reload with a completely indifferent expression while the acrid smell of gunpowder drifted past, I couldn’t help thinking, Maybe this is a magic world, so even pistol accuracy gets magically enhanced?
“I’d like to try too. But this belongs to the Count… is it really okay to hand it to someone else?”
“Of course, my lady. Your status is far nobler than my father’s. Please, go ahead.”
Zophie carefully turned the muzzle away from us and passed me the pistol. I accepted it without pointing the barrel at anyone, stepped up to where Zophie had been standing, and aimed at the 250-meter target that had risen again.
…Honestly, even with one eye closed, the flintlock pistol made it almost impossible to see the distant target clearly.
Zophie chuckled at my struggle and adjusted the lever. “I’ll bring it to fifty meters.”
“Mm, you don’t have to, but if you insist, I suppose I can’t stop you.”
Normally that kind of cheeky remark would have earned me a light punishment from Zophie, but I figured she wouldn’t pinch or yank the hair of someone holding a loaded gun, so I allowed myself the bravado. As expected, she silently worked the lever, lowering the far target and raising a closer one.
Now that I could actually see something, I pulled the trigger.
The shot cracked out with a puff of smoke, but the bullet sailed wide and buried itself somewhere in the bushes.
“Guess I can’t go around claiming I served in the army.”
“Obviously not. What kind of nonsense is that?” Zophie scolded as she snatched the pistol from my hand.
I realized my mistake and quickly covered my mouth with the glove that still smelled of gunpowder. My lips tasted like burnt powder.
“It was a joke, Zophie. I just meant I couldn’t even say it as a joke. Anyway, I’ve heard that duels between men who can’t use magic are often settled with pistols… I’d better never challenge you to a duel.”
“Well, if it were a duel between witches, magic would be allowed, so I wouldn’t be your opponent in that case…”
Zophie wiped down the barrel and inside of the pistol with a cloth. Erica, who had been quietly watching me brush the gunpowder residue off my gloves, stepped closer.
“There are other ways noblemen duel besides pistols.”
“Yeah, I know. They’re doing it right over there.” I pointed toward the young ladies in the center of the training field who were crossing blades.
Erica nodded. “That’s not dueling. That’s sparring and practice.”
“Of course it is, Erica. What kind of grudge could people who only met yesterday possibly have to settle with a real duel?”
“We didn’t only meet yesterday.”
I finally caught on to what Erica was trying to say. From my perspective it wasn’t a welcome development, but I wasn’t in a position to refuse if she brought it up directly. In this world, refusing a duel meant fully accepting the opponent’s demands. I knew very well that a duel only took place when both sides were prepared to bear the political consequences.
“…Erica, if you attach conditions that are too heavy, I’m not sure I can happily—”
Erica didn’t wait for the rest of my answer. She removed the glove from her right hand and tossed it at me. I could only stand there as it landed softly against my chest.
“In the past, I refused your duel when the condition was our separation. If that left you doubting my sincerity…”
“If the condition is that I must accept the Emperor’s demand, I’ll find some way to escape no matter what. I don’t care about honor between noble houses. This is between the two of us.”
“…Just let me take back my refusal of the duel you proposed that day and sit down at the negotiation table again. That is the sole condition I ask for in exchange for my victory. Will you accept the duel on those terms?”
It was a serious moment, but I felt incredibly awkward. The glove should have slid down after hitting my body, yet because of the curve of my chest it had settled there instead. There was no way I could pretend not to be embarrassed.
I slowly picked up Erica’s glove from my chest and nodded. Since she had lowered her conditions this far, trying to weasel out of the duel now would bring dishonor on me as well. At this point, I had no choice but to accept.
“Fine. If that’s all… Zophie, my sword.”
“Here it is, my lady.”
Zophie respectfully offered my fencing sword with both hands. I gripped the hilt with one hand and tossed the glove back to Erica. She snatched it out of the air and slipped it back onto her hand.
“Let’s move to the central training ground, Maria.”
“Yeah, we should. The shooting range really isn’t the right place for this.”