Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume Short Story-2 - Chapter 13

Loyalitat — Sneaking Suspicion

Description: A sales bonus short story for Part 5 Volume 2 written from the perspective of Loyalitat, the vice commander of the Sovereign Knight’s Order. The events of the Royal Academy’s Dedication Ritual have made the Order particularly suspicious of Rozemyne. A curious conversation follows but is cut short when a request for aid arrives from Hildebrand, the third prince.

Author’s Note: How do those of the Sovereign Knight’s Order view Raublut’s past, Ehrenfest, and Rozemyne? It was pretty tense bouncing between Loyalitat’s deductions and Raublut’s trickeries to hide the truth from him.

“Still doing today’s paperwork, Lord Loyalitat?” one of the knights asked me as his squad returned to their resting spot in the royal palace’s training area. “I do not envy that workload.”

“I doubt your patrol was any less arduous,” I said. “How was the Royal Academy? Did you come across anything interesting?”

The knights before me had just completed their routine patrol of the Academy’s grounds. They lined up in front of my document-covered desk, which we’d moved to the resting spot so that I could more easily receive their reports, and started on their summaries.

“We checked the dormitory of each abolished duchy and found nothing of particular note.”

“There were as many feybeasts as expected, and no single species seemed unusually dominant. On top of that, we found no traces of ternisbefallens in the area.”

Winters in the Sovereignty were normally quite relaxed, as most nobles returned to their home duchies. This year, however, the knights hadn’t been allowed to leave. Someone had unleashed ternisbefallens during last year’s awards ceremony, putting the royal family’s lives at risk, so security around the Royal Academy had needed to be increased. Patrols regularly checked the unused dormitories of abolished duchies to make sure they weren’t being misused and inspected the area for suspicious feybeasts or intruders. We couldn’t allow another incident to undermine the Zent’s authority.

“Any word from the Royal Academy?” I asked.

“As of fourth bell, neither Dunkelfelger nor Ehrenfest has contacted the royal family.”

“I see. That is a relief.”

The third prince was still only a child, and as the Sovereignty was on such high alert, any messages between students and members of royalty had to pass through the Sovereign Knight’s Order. Prince Hildebrand, Lady Eglantine, Prince Anastasius—we received frequent reports from the royals associated with the Royal Academy, and most of them had at least something to do with Ehrenfest or Dunkelfelger. No other duchies were being summoned to the royal villas on such a regular basis.

“They went out of their way to acquire permission to hold religious ceremonies at the Royal Academy,” one knight said, his voice tinged with irritation. “I expect both duchies to be busy with their joint research for quite some time.”

“Given that they involved even the Zent, I am sure it will produce splendid results,” another added, no less annoyed.

Lady Rozemyne of Ehrenfest had acquired the royal family’s permission to perform religious ceremonies at the Academy. Then she had invited the royals themselves to participate, advising them to bring empty feystones to fill with mana and to actually take part so that they could experience a true ceremony and potentially even obtain more divine protections. The Zent and several other royals had agreed.

Had that been all there was to it, Lady Rozemyne would not have been the target of so much criticism. I sighed at the knights’ exchange.

“Do not speak ill of Lady Rozemyne,” I said. “She helped to gather an impressive amount of mana for the royal family, and the Zent later declared that he found the ceremony a valuable experience. You know that.”

“But that shield of hers... Do you not consider it dangerous? Lord Raublut suspects that Lord Ferdinand is pulling her strings as part of some plot to steal the Grutrissheit.”

Lady Rozemyne had not allowed knights to attend the ceremony and used Schutzaria’s shield to weed out those with bad intentions. The spectacle had made us aware not only of her shield that not even the Sovereign Knight’s Order could break but also of several archduke candidates from neutral duchies who could turn against us at any moment. It used to be the case that Lord Raublut was the only member of our Order who viewed Ehrenfest with suspicion, but his concerns had since spread to many of our knights.

Still, Lady Rozemyne’s behavior during the Dedication Ritual had made it clear she was a good-willed cooperator. The keys to the underground archive, the translations of ancient texts, the importance of religious ceremonies—it was no tall tale to say that the most vital information now at the royal family’s fingertips had come from that one girl. We couldn’t allow our nerves to lead us astray. Even the Zent was nothing but grateful to her.

“I understand why one might be wary of an individual immune to physical threats,” I said. “That fear only comes from her having an advantage. We can do away with it by acquiring her power ourselves.”

“Hmm? Do you have the means to do that?” a knight asked, surprised.

I responded with a brisk nod. I frequently attended royal dinner meetings as a guard knight, which had granted me the good fortune of hearing Prince Anastasius’s reports.

“Lady Rozemyne’s joint research was set in motion when she obtained more divine protections than most during one of her classes. You understand that much, correct? Well, that research enabled the students of Dunkelfelger to create their own pillars of light, earn the gods’ blessings for themselves, and even form Leidenschaft’s spear. They also acquired Schutzaria’s shield.”

Acquiring the shield ourselves wouldn’t be easy—it would mean going to the temple, first of all—but I thought it best not to mention that here and now.

“At the very least, Lady Rozemyne isn’t the only one able to make the shield, and she intends to share how others can make it too. I was at a complete loss upon hearing the report, but it seems she can also give blessings by whirling and playing music. As it stands, we would only harm ourselves if we tried to push Ehrenfest away. We have everything to gain by learning what we can from them. You know of the temple’s crazed obsession with her, do you not?”

It was a well-known fact that during last year’s bible inspection, the Sovereign temple had resolved to make Lady Rozemyne theirs. They claimed that someone who was loved so deeply by the gods and could wield their divine instruments belonged in the Sovereign temple more than a bottom-ranking duchy such as Ehrenfest. Seeing her in action had slowly changed my stance from thinking they were fools to agreeing with them, but bringing an archduke candidate to the Sovereignty was no simple matter.

“On that note, it would seem that Lady Rozemyne agreed to perform the next Archduke Conference’s Starbind Ceremony as its High Bishop. Prince Anastasius approached her about it, did he not?”

“Yes, the second prince is determined to let Prince Sigiswald rise above him. My sympathies to Lady Rozemyne for getting caught up in that.”

He should simply have agreed to become the Zent after marrying Lady Eglantine.

The prince’s problems had only arisen because he’d taken the half measure of marrying Lady Eglantine despite not wanting the throne. He spoke colorfully of having seen his love through and wanting to grant the wish of the woman who meant so much to him, but the truth of the matter was that he had wanted to avoid the strenuous duties of a king. His father, who had endured so much for his lack of a Grutrissheit, had wanted the country to be ruled by whoever had the most mana. Prince Anastasius had done nothing to respect that.

“You are correct, Lord Loyalitat,” one of the knights said. “We were simply ignorant of Lady Rozemyne’s shield. Lord Raublut was the only one who knew about it.”

“Is that so? Do you know where he learned about it?”

“From his former lord, as I understand it.”

“And who would that be...? Could it have been a common spell before the civil war?”

I grimaced at the thought. So much had been lost with the disappearance of the Grutrissheit that I couldn’t blame others for thinking our current Zent was powerless. That sentiment might have been why so many among the younger generations always pinned their hopes on the people and systems from before the civil war.

“I was in the Sovereign Knight’s Order before the civil war,” I said, “yet I never once encountered Schutzaria’s shield.”

“Lord Raublut must have learned about it elsewhere, then. I wonder where...?”

“And under whom? I thought he was a regular knight before he started serving King Trauerqual.”

Before the civil war, Lord Raublut had most certainly been a knight of the Sovereign Order. The king’s first wife had brought him—and the others in her service—with her from Gilessenmeyer. Barely anyone had known about Lord Raublut before then, largely owing to how much documentation was lost during the war.

“I remember hearing that he served a princess in some branch family...” a knight said.

“Ah. Perhaps she married down to become an archnoble or some such, and that was when he returned to a normal station.” It was a reasonable assumption to make; a Sovereign knight serving a princess who married down in status would serve someone else or return to being a regular knight.

“No, I think he was relieved of duty when the princess passed away.”

“Maybe he fell in love with the princess and was made to resign as a result. Lord Raublut refused to marry for a very long time because of some mystery woman he wasn’t able to forget.”

“A knight relieved of duty for something like that would never have been made the knight commander. Not to mention, do you really think a princess would fall for a face as hard and scarred as his?”

The knights were all gossiping with reckless abandon when an ordonnanz shot into the room. It landed on my arm, opened its beak, and spoke in a gravelly but authoritative voice.

“This is Raublut. Loyalitat, come to my office at once.”

“You wished to speak with me?”

“Yes, yes. Sit down,” the commander said, gesturing me to a seat.

Once I was seated, Lord Raublut explained that he had received an ordonnanz from Prince Hildebrand. Lady Rozemyne of Ehrenfest, Lady Hannelore of Dunkelfelger, and the eager third prince apparently had plans to go to the library’s underground archive tomorrow morning.

Prince Hildebrand certainly is dedicated to his royal duties despite his young age.

His dedication to maturing and carrying out his duties as a royal warmed my heart. The commander, however, seemed anything but pleased.

“Loyalitat—do you not find it strange that Lady Rozemyne sent an ordonnanz to the third prince?”

“Not when he’s stationed at the Royal Academy as its overseer.”

“Lady Rozemyne normally sends her ordonnanzes to Prince Anastasius and Lady Eglantine. She must be changing her contacts in accordance with her needs. One cannot enter the underground archive without royal authority, and so she works in the shadows...”

Though our jobs did require us to be on guard against potential threats, Lord Raublut’s suspicions seemed closer to outright paranoia. “Her contacting Prince Hildebrand means she isn’t working in the shadows,” I said. “She’s openly requesting the royal family’s permission. I understand your fears that Ehrenfest is up to something, but those suspicions have clouded your judgment.”

“Perhaps I am overthinking it,” Lord Raublut muttered.

I could only hope he meant it. He had an unreasonably low opinion of Lady Rozemyne—or at least of Ehrenfest and Lord Ferdinand.

“That said,” he continued, “Lady Rozemyne is once again attempting to spend time with royalty. Be on your guard. Something might happen again tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

Lady Rozemyne had once asked to use the Farthest Hall for her joint research and proposed that the royal family take part as well; I completely agreed that something was bound to happen. The more cautious we remained, the better.

As it turned out, staying on our guard was the right move. The knight commander received an ordonnanz from Prince Hildebrand requesting the assistance of the Sovereign Knight’s Order.

“He wants our help?” one of the knights asked. “He must have encountered a problem that not even his own knights can deal with.”

“But we can’t enter the Academy unless the Zent summons us personally. What could possibly be happening?!”

An anxious air hung over us all. The third prince’s ordonnanz had said nothing about why he was in need of our aid. It wasn’t long before another bird arrived—this time from Lord Arthur, the prince’s head attendant.

“My sincerest apologies. Please pay no mind to the summons Prince Hildebrand sent you—this is not something the Sovereign Knight’s Order needs to be concerned with. Furthermore, the prince needs to learn that he has no say in when the Order moves.”

Apparently, the third prince had simply overreacted to an otherwise innocuous battle. I sighed, relieved, and released the feystone that would have turned into full plate armor.

“Indeed, we must make this a valuable learning experience for him,” I said. The Sovereign Knight’s Order acted only on the king’s orders; not even a prince could put us to use. Royals needed to be cautious of that fact, as status still made it hard for us to refuse them.

“You and I can handle this, Loyalitat,” Lord Raublut said. “We will need to tell the prince why we are refusing his royal orders.”

“Understood.”

In situations such as this, it was customary to bring at least two knights to ensure that any information given to the royal family was fully accurate. In our case, though, we were about to lecture a prince—an underage prince, but one nonetheless. Bringing some bottom-ranking knight with us was out of the question. I could only hope that the presence of both the commander and vice commander of the Sovereign Knight’s Order would make Prince Hildebrand realize the severity of his actions.

We wasted no time in leaving the knight commander’s office. Lord Raublut tightly knit his brow as we strode toward the palace’s teleportation hall.

“I knew I should have looked into what Lady Rozemyne was researching. In truth, I had intended to ask you to accompany them.”

“Me?” I asked. “Would it not have made more sense for you to go?” He was both close to Prince Hildebrand and persistently wary of Lady Rozemyne; I saw no reason he would want to send someone else in his place.

“Lady Rozemyne seems to be on guard against me now that Lord Ferdinand was sent to Ahrensbach.”

The royal decree behind said move, brought about by the combined pleas of several duchies, had freed Lord Ferdinand from the temple that Ehrenfest’s tyrannical archduke had trapped him in by setting in motion his engagement to the next aub of Ahrensbach. Aub Ehrenfest had opposed the idea, of course, but Lord Ferdinand had apparently been on board.

Lady Rozemyne’s mentor owes his freedom to that decree. If she thinks Lord Raublut was behind it, should she not be grateful to him?

I furrowed my brow. Only a select few people had attended the meeting held to confirm how Lord Ferdinand wanted to proceed. I hadn’t been present, but Lord Raublut had apparently explained that the proposed marriage was advantageous for both parties, as Ahrensbach lacked a successor and Lord Ferdinand needed to escape his dire circumstances. Still, he seemed to speak as though the decree hadn’t been a good thing for everyone. Was I just imagining it?

“If she is on guard against you, then I suspect she’s just as wary of me,” I said. “I was the first to doubt the power of her shield and attack it.”

“I see... I thought you would be ideal for controlling their numbers.”

“‘Their numbers’?” I repeated, unsure what Lord Raublut meant. He clearly knew a lot more about the situation than I did. I turned to look at him, wondering what was going through his head as he stroked the prominent scar above his cheek.

“Just what is Ehrenfest looking for in that archive?” Lord Raublut pondered aloud. “I want to know why Prince Hildebrand agreed without consulting the other princes and why Dunkelfelger seems to be playing along. Perhaps the third prince seeks to take the throne, and his blood relatives in Dunkelfelger are supporting him. Yurgenschmidt needs no further disturbances.”

The need to prevent such an incident was precisely why Lady Magdalena had become the king’s third wife despite her birthplace and why she continued to treat both Prince Sigiswald and Prince Anastasius with respect. Such a clash would never come to pass unless the third prince had someone trying to lead him astray.

Once again, you are overthinking things...

Still, I elected not to say anything. Maybe the commander knew more than I did—who was I to object without evidence? Instead, I resolved to follow his lead. If nothing else, he was right that Yurgenschmidt could endure no further chaos.

“Prince Hildebrand, we have arrived at your summons,” Lord Raublut said as we both knelt. “Pray tell, what circumstances demand the aid of not just your guards but the entire Sovereign Knight’s Order?”

“Ehrenfest and Dunkelfelger intend to play ditter to decide who will receive Rozemyne’s hand in marriage,” the third prince explained with great enthusiasm. “An engagement with my father’s approval could never be overturned through such means, could it? Rozemyne has no desire to change her fiancé, so we simply must rescue her. Is it not the Sovereign Order’s duty to assist in protecting the weak?”

“Did you consult Arthur before contacting us...?” the commander asked, shooting a quick glance at the man in question.

“I did. He insisted that we shouldn’t get involved, but I disagreed. For as long as I can remember, he’s told me that only the royal family can stop the tyranny of greater duchies. Was it not absurd, then, that he wouldn’t let me save Rozemyne?!”

The prince’s stance was nearsighted and immature. He was far too obsessed with his desire to mete out justice. Were he my son, I would praise him for his strong moral values and assure him that protecting the weak was the right thing to do. A prince, however, needed to be taught the consequences of his actions. His every move had to be weighed on the scales of interduchy relations.

Under normal circumstances, a prince would come to that realization when he started attending the Academy. In this case, however...

No sooner had the third prince been baptized than he had been tasked with overseeing the Royal Academy. It must have been a heavy burden for a boy his age, but if he continued to be so careless when interacting with other duchies, a serious incident would surely be on the horizon.

Prince Hildebrand gazed up at the commander, his purple eyes brimming with hope. “Arthur opposes the idea no matter how many times I ask, but could you save Rozemyne for me, Raublut? Knights are duty bound to help those in need.”

“I cannot.”

“But why?!”

“There is no royal decree for us to take action, and neither Aub Ehrenfest nor Aub Dunkelfelger has requested our assistance. We cannot involve ourselves in a matter that has nothing to do with us—it would risk us being accused of malicious interference.”

Neither of the involved duchies had requested the king’s arbitration, which meant their aubs were vocally or silently approving the ditter match. As someone from Hauchletzte, I didn’t know too much about ditter, but the Sovereign Order was full of knights from Dunkelfelger, and I’d at least heard of the kinds of matches that took place at the Academy.

“If an engagement is at stake, then perhaps this is bride-taking ditter,” I said. “Though my knowledge on the subject leaves much to be desired, I am told that Dunkelfelgerians play it when one side’s parents refuse to give their blessing. Lady Magdalena might be able to provide a better explanation.”

For this match to have come about in the first place, could it be that Lord Lestilaut and Lady Rozemyne are in love? Lady Rozemyne did not seem old enough to decide on an engagement based on romance, so perhaps there are other factors at play.

Based on her appearance, I doubted she was mature enough to think of romance. As it stood, she was unlikely to have even developed mana-sensing.

“I would assume they intend to announce the result of their match during the Archduke Conference, then approach your father about undoing the current engagement,” the commander said. “Neither the king nor the Sovereign Knight’s Order can act without a formal request from the aubs of both duchies.”

The prince pursed his lips—a poor attempt to mask his displeasure.

“Even at your young age, you are determined to carry out your duties as a prince,” I said. “It is wonderful to behold. I am also touched to see you on such good terms with Ehrenfest’s and Dunkelfelger’s archduke candidates, owing to your work with the Royal Academy’s library committee.”

He stared at me in surprise. By no means was he entirely in the wrong—his work ethic and desire for justice were both things I wished to praise and encourage.

“However,” I continued, “you must not show them favoritism on the basis of that personal connection. Learn what you must about your role—what you can and cannot do as a royal.”

“Right...” Though his shoulders were slumped, the prince gave a small nod of acceptance. Once he calmed down, he would surely return to listening to his head attendant.

A sigh escaped me. Our work here was done, I thought, but then I noticed Arthur looking equally relieved. Prince Hildebrand wasn’t the only one in need of a few stern words, it seemed.

“You erred as well, Arthur,” I said. “Your own youth might have been partially to blame, but it is not enough to simply refuse your charge. Strive to better understand his position and speak with him on more equal terms.”

“My apologies. I thank you both for your consideration.”

Once we had scolded the prince—and his head attendant, for good measure—Lord Raublut and I returned to the palace. As exhausting as our task had been, we could at least rest assured that we wouldn’t hear of the matter again.

“This is Rauffen of the Royal Academy! Three Sovereign knights have intruded upon a ditter match between students! Lord Raublut, I request a prompt response on whether they are following a royal decree!”

An unexpected ordonnanz had arrived in the office of Zent Trauerqual. It had perched on the arm of the knight commander, currently acting as a guard knight, before making an announcement that stunned everyone in earshot. I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep any extraneous remarks at bay.

Is the third prince behind this?! I thought we made ourselves clear when we went to see him!

“This is Raublut. They are not there by royal decree.”

I was frozen in place, but the knight commander responded without missing a beat, his expression unchanged. Then he knelt before the Zent.

“I wish to capture and interrogate these rogue knights,” Lord Raublut declared.

At once, I snapped out of my stupor and dropped to one knee beside him. It seemed unwise to mention our conversation with Prince Hildebrand, but there was a very real chance the knights had moved on his order. We would need to question them to determine whether they really had acted independently.

“I also support an interrogation,” I said. “I find it hard to believe that any of our knights would resort to insubordination. Something must have happened to cause this behavior. Please permit us to travel to the Royal Academy.”

It was then that another ordonnanz arrived, this one from Prince Anastasius. He had received a report from Hirschur that Sovereign knights were inciting students from lesser and middle duchies to cause some kind of chaos.

Not only are they interfering in the ditter match, but they’re also rallying students of lower-ranking duchies?!

The situation was abnormal, to say the least. Few people at the Royal Academy would have the mana capacity necessary to stop a Sovereign knight. Higher-ups from the Order would need to intervene and contain them posthaste.

“Should we contact Prince Hildebrand?!”

Zent Trauerqual shook his head. “It would take far too long to explain the situation to him. Go with Anastasius at once.”

And so, with barely any information to guide us, we headed to the teleporter. Going straight from the palace to the Academy took far longer than one might expect; it was much faster to travel through Prince Anastasius’s villa.

We arrived to find the second prince waiting for us with his guard knights. He led the way and opened the door to the Royal Academy.

“Let us go,” he declared.

We arrived at the training area to find three Sovereign knights engaged in combat. The students they had gathered were nowhere to be seen—they must have scattered when Rauffen explained that the Zent hadn’t sanctioned their intervention. I was well and truly relieved that we wouldn’t need to imprison any children.

Once we’d questioned those from Ehrenfest and Dunkelfelger, we returned to the Sovereignty with the three unruly knights of our Order. There was something especially strange about them.

“By whose command did you come here?! Are you truly acting without orders from the Zent?!”

“The royal family was concerned about Dunkelfelger potentially taking the Saint of Ehrenfest. Dealing with such concerns is the duty of the Sovereign Knight’s Order.”

“A purposefully defiant knight cannot be trusted. If a trespass of this nature happens again, the Sovereign Order will risk losing the trust of the Zent and all of Yurgenschmidt!”

“This is what the royal family wants.”

Our interrogation had reached a standstill; no matter what they were asked, the knights just kept repeating that they had moved to rescue Lady Rozemyne and that they were acting for the royal family’s sake. My unease grew as our attempt at questioning continued. Prince Hildebrand was the only royal I knew who would care so deeply about Lady Rozemyne marrying into Dunkelfelger.

“Dunkelfelger will sit in on our next interrogation,” Lord Raublut explained to all those present. “Give these three time to return to their senses, but do not under any circumstances allow them to escape. Loyalitat, we are going to the third prince’s villa.”

As far as the others were concerned, the purpose of our visit was to report to the Royal Academy’s overseer. In truth, however, we intended to question Prince Hildebrand about whether he was behind the knights’ apparent insubordination. Only the commander and I knew that he had asked the Sovereign Order to save Lady Rozemyne.

But when we arrived at the third prince’s villa...

“Has something happened within the Sovereign Knight’s Order?”

Prince Hildebrand received our news with a look of surprise. Then, when we asked whether he had ordered the knights to take action, he shook his head.

“I neither gave the command nor contacted the Order,” he replied. “In fact, I wasn’t even aware that their match was scheduled for today. Isn’t that right, Arthur?”

I turned to the head attendant, barely able to contain my surprise. Had the third prince requested our assistance without even knowing when the ditter match was expected to take place?

“Prince Hildebrand speaks true,” Arthur said. “The date had yet to be decided when Lady Hannelore first mentioned the match to him at the library. And as the two of you convinced him to drop the matter, he refrained from even trying to gather information about it. The professors of the knight course will confirm that we did not ask them a single question about the ditter game.”

Though the prince seemed none the wiser, Arthur understood that they were both under suspicion of causing the knights’ disloyalty. He also understood the danger that put them in. The blood drained from his face as he stoutly and scrupulously expressed the innocence of his lord.

“As his head attendant, I can guarantee that Prince Hildebrand did not contact the Sovereign Knight’s Order. The fact that he has yet to attend the Royal Academy means he does not have a schtappe or the means to brew. As he cannot use ordonnanzes on his own, there is no way he could have sent word without our knowing.”

Every letter and document that ended up in the prince’s hands passed through his retainers, who also stayed with him whenever he left his villa. Arthur was right in saying that Prince Hildebrand didn’t have the means or freedom to act independently.

“Furthermore,” he continued, “the only Sovereign knights invited to this villa were the two of you. He has refrained from even speaking to any other knights outside his retinue, as any investigation will prove.”

Indeed, even the prince’s sword practice with the knight commander took place here at his villa. He would start training at the royal palace upon becoming a student, but as it stood, there was barely any reason to think he was associated with the three rogue knights.

“I would never have made such a request,” Prince Hildebrand insisted. “Not after you both came here and warned me of the dangers. Even my mother told me not to interfere with a game of ditter that was already set in stone.” He frowned at us, wearing a slight pout.

“I suppose it really wasn’t Prince Hildebrand who instigated the knights,” I muttered while writing my report. That much seemed clear to me—I’d seen not a trace of guilt in his eyes—but the knight commander was unconvinced.

“Oh? And why do you think that?” Lord Raublut asked, glaring at me. “Those two might be lying. Ehrenfest’s victory means that Lady Rozemyne won’t need to move to Dunkelfelger. The prince’s wish has been granted.”

“Yes, but they could never have acted without knowing when the match was due to take place. I consulted the professors of the knight course, and not one of them informed Prince Hildebrand. Rather, it was Prince Anastasius who knew.”

Perhaps due to the frequency with which they caused issues—or the tendency for those issues to develop into major events—Ehrenfest’s and Dunkelfelger’s antics at the Academy were reported to the second prince, not the third. The duchies’ request to play ditter had gone straight to Prince Anastasius.

“Let us assume Prince Hildebrand was behind this, and that his retainers were involved as well,” I said. “For what reason would they have summoned us there to scold them? It was only then that we learned of the third prince’s wish to rescue Lady Rozemyne—a wish that he would surely have wanted to keep close to his chest. As for Prince Anastasius, not even he knew it was bride-taking ditter from the documentation. I suspect a third party is involved and that they wish to frame Prince Hildebrand for the crime.”

“Hmm... You are smarter than I thought,” the knight commander said, a smirk arising on his lips. “I shall consider this third party.”

Lord Raublut was a stubborn man; if my words had done anything to sway his ever-suspicious mind, then I considered that a reason to celebrate. A tense air would surely hang over his training sessions with the young third prince if the commander continued to suspect his involvement in the situation with Ehrenfest and Lady Rozemyne.

Still, even if a third party is to blame, what could their objective have been?

If they had used Lady Rozemyne’s situation as an opportunity to incriminate Prince Hildebrand, then their objective must have lain elsewhere. Perhaps we could use the consequences of the three knights being instigated to deduce what our criminals had wanted to achieve.

Did they wish to drive a wedge between the Zent and the Sovereign Knight’s Order? Or was this plan meant to bring shame upon the former? Why involve the apprentices? Who knew the date of the ditter match? Where did our third party acquire that information, and how did they contact the Sovereign knights?

Questions darted through my mind until, at last, something caught my attention. I could feel the dots slowly connecting when the commander suddenly called out to me and said, “Are you done with your report?” My train of thought crumbled, and the connecting thread vanished with it.

Wait, what was I thinking?

I responded to the knight commander and tried to put my thoughts back in order, but it was no use. Crackles and pops rang out from behind me as the wood in the fireplace continued to burn.