Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 1 - Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

A Colleague Arrives and Acts Unreasonably

…Squish, squish.

Monica awoke to a soft sensation against her cheek. She’d fallen asleep on her desk, pen still in her hand.

She sluggishly raised her gaze to find herself staring into the golden eyes of a black cat.

The cat had been pushing on her cheek with his paw, and once he realized she’d woken up, his eyes narrowed into a satisfied, humanlike grin.

“Hey, Monica. It’s morning. Can’t sleep forever. What? Are you not going to wake up unless a prince kisses you? Princess?”

Unfazed by the talking cat, Monica rubbed her eyes and sat upright.

The black cat was her familiar. Not only could he understand human speech, he could even read. In fact, he was a much more avid reader than she was, taking any free moment he had to do so, nimbly flipping through the pages with his front paws. In particular, he enjoyed adventure novels, and he’d likely gotten the idea of a prince’s kiss from one of those.

“…Ugh. Hello, Nero. Is it morning already? …I’m going to go wash my face…”

Monica downed the rest of the cold coffee in her mug, then stood up. Turning her back to Nero, the black cat, she opened the front door and felt a cool breeze tickle her cheeks—a sign of summer’s end.

The rickety little house where Monica lived stood on a mountain in the Kingdom of Ridill. There were no other dwellings nearby, and she was more than an hour’s walk from the nearest village.

Monica circled behind the house and drew water from the well, a great effort considering her small frame. Recently, great strides had been made in water transportation technology. Pipes had proliferated—not only in major cities but in smaller villages in the area, too. But naturally, none ran to her little hut on the side of the mountain.

Having grown up in the city, she’d found mountain life inconvenient at first. Now, however, she was perfectly accustomed to life in her little house. Best of all, the area was quiet and secluded.

After filling a pail with drinking water, she collected some clothing she’d hung out on a pole to dry and went back inside. Then, as though just remembering, she looked at her reflection in the large mirror in the corner of the room.

An acquaintance had all but forced the mirror on Monica, telling her to put a little more care into her appearance. The mirror itself was very fine and looked out of place in the rickety surroundings.

Its elegant glass reflected a skinny girl with frizzy hair wrapped in a worn-out robe. Though she would be turning seventeen this year, her seedy frame was much paler than it should have been at her age—it was almost the color of a corpse. Her light-brown hair, which she’d haphazardly parted into a pair of braids, was dry and lacked shine, looking even rougher than a bundle of hay. Two round eyes, each framed by dark circles, peeked out from under her bangs, which she’d let grow and grow.

To tell the truth, she looked terrible. She was in no state to be seen by anyone else, but because she spent her time cooped up in a shack in the mountains, such things hardly mattered to her.

Oh, she thought, but I think today is when my monthly shipment arrives…

Monica was extremely shy and found it difficult to buy things in stores. Instead, she’d asked the people of the village at the foot of the mountain to deliver food to her.

For a moment, she wavered, wondering if she should re-braid her hair after all. No sooner had she thought this than there was a knock at the door.

“Monica? Your food is here!”

The lively female voice gave Monica a start. She pulled her robe’s hood down over her eyes.

In the meantime, Nero jumped nimbly up onto a shelf. “A guest? Guess it’s time for me to pretend to be a cat, huh? Meow.”

“Y-yeah.” Nodding to Nero, Monica nervously opened the door.

A wagon was parked outside her house, and next to it stood a girl of about ten. She was a spirited girl, with olive-brown hair tied behind her neck. Her name was Annie, and she was from the nearby village. Usually, it was her job to deliver things to Monica.

Monica peeked from behind the door and, trembling, called out a shaky, “H-hello.”

Annie was used to Monica’s habits by now, and she pushed her aside, threw the door open, and began lifting the bundles of food.

“I’ll bring everything in,” said Annie. “Can you hold the door?”

“O-okay…” Monica nodded nervously as Annie skillfully ferried in the goods.

Monica’s home had few pieces of furniture, but books and stacks of papers littered the tables and floor, leaving little room to walk. Her bed, of course, had long since been buried under even more papers and books. She couldn’t even lay down on it. That was why she had lately taken to falling asleep in her chair.

“It’s always so messy in here! Are these papers important? Can I throw them out?” asked Annie, suspiciously eyeing the sheaves of paper dominating the floor.

“They—they’re all important!”

“Hey, are these formulas? What are you calculating?”

Annie could read, and since she was a craftsperson’s daughter, she was also good with numbers. She was only a little over ten years old, but she was smarter than most of the other children her age. But even for her, the rows and columns of numbers on these papers were all but indecipherable.

Monica looked down. Without making eye contact, she answered, “Um, those are…calculations for the, um, orbits of the planets…”

“Oh. What are these ones? Look at all the plant names.”

“…Um, those are… I calculated the ratios of plant fertilizers and put them in a table…”

“Then what are these? They kind of look like magical symbols.”

“…That’s, um, a trial calculation of a new compound magical formula that a professor at Minerva’s proposed…” Monica played with the sleeve of her baggy robe as she quietly answered the questions.

Annie’s catlike eyes widened. “A magical formula? You can use magecraft, Monica?”

“…I, um, well… Th-that is…,” stammered Monica, her eyes drifting left and right.

Nero, who had been pretending to sleep on the shelf, meowed as if to say, Whoa, are you okay there?

Monica continued to fiddle with her fingers until Annie eventually gave a light shrug and laughed. “Ha-ha. Of course that’s impossible. If you could use magecraft, you’d be working in the capital! Not living like a recluse up here in the mountains.”

Magecraft was a means by which one used mana to create miracles. Its techniques had originally been secrets closely guarded by the noble class, but in recent years, commoners had been given more opportunities to study it.

But there were still limitations—one needed significant wealth or talent to enroll in an institution for studying magecraft. For a commoner, becoming a mage was a life-defining success.

If you became a high mage, you might be retained by a noble family, or you could find employment in the Magic Corps, whose members were essentially celebrities.

There was no way Monica, living out here in the mountains, could be a mage—Annie’s remark made perfect sense.

“Oh, Monica! Did you hear? Just three months ago, there was a dragonraid near the eastern border.”

Monica’s shoulders sprang up beneath her robe, and Nero, who had been feigning sleep on the shelf, cracked one eye open. His tail hung down lazily, swaying like the pendulum of a clock.

“I heard some really big pterodragons formed a horde and appeared in a human village! There were more than twenty of them!”

Pterodragons, as their name implied, were dragons with wings. They had lower intelligence and were less fearsome than other dragons but were extremely difficult to deal with in groups. They mostly went after livestock, but starved pterodragons attacking people had become more common in recent years.

“Oh! Oh, and, and! The one leading the pterodragons! It was a legendary black dragon! The infamous Black Dragon of Worgan!”

Dragons whose names specified their color, such as black dragons and red dragons, were of higher rank and seen as a particular threat.

Of those, the black dragon was said to be the most dangerous. The unique flames they breathed—blackflames—were flames of anathema. They could mercilessly incinerate even the defensive barriers of high mages. A single attack by a black dragon could easily reduce a kingdom to ashes. Indeed, they were a creature of calamity on an epic scale.

“And! And the Dragon Knights went to slay it, but one of the Seven Sages was with them! Wait, do you know who the Seven Sages are? They’re the best mages in the kingdom. Really amazing, you know?”

“Ah, um, I see…”

“The youngest is called the Silent Witch! And they say she beat the black dragon all by herself and took down all the pterodragons!”

In countryside villages, these sorts of stories were a precious form of entertainment. Annie’s eyes were practically sparkling…but Monica’s certainly weren’t.

“They say the Silent Witch is the only one in the whole world who can use magecraft without chanting! So magic always needs a chant, right? But not for the Silent Witch! Even without one, she can use powerful magic like boom, boom, boom!”

Monica pressed a hand to her stomach in silence. It hurt like it was being squeezed in a vise. Despite the pleasant summer morning, she’d broken out in a full-body sweat.

“I, um, I s-see…,” stammered Monica.

Annie put her hands on her cheeks as if enraptured and said, “Oh, I want to meet a real Sage one day! Just once!”

Sevens Sages aside, people out here seldom even saw middle-ranking mages or below. That was probably why Annie found them so fascinating.

Still holding her stinging stomach, Monica took a few silver coins from a leather pouch on the cupboard. It would cover the food she’d had delivered, as well as Annie’s tip.

“H-here…,” she mumbled, placing the silver coins in Annie’s hands and closing her fingers around them. “Thanks, um, for always doing this.”

Annie counted the coins, then tilted her head. “I know I ask all the time, but is it really okay to have all this? It’s almost twice what the food is worth.”

“Y-you delivered it to me, so, um… You can, well, have the rest as pocket money.”

Any normal kid would have jumped for joy and tucked the coins away in their pocket, but Annie was a smart girl. She knew the reward went well beyond the work she’d done, and she looked at Monica questioningly. “Hey, what do you do for work, Monica?”

“I, um… Calculations?”

“Are you a math professor?”

“I guess…something…like that. Yeah…”

The documents she had gathered in the house had no real unifying theme. Aside from stellar orbits and fertilizer distributions, they included population totals, tax revenues, shifts in product sales, and various other papers covered in numbers. They lay about the floor in a mishmash that at first appeared like chaos but which conformed to an order and logic only Monica could follow.

Annie seemed decently satisfied with the math-professor explanation.

“Hmm. Then that means the person who came to our village yesterday must be a math professor, too.”

“…Huh?”

“He said he was your colleague and wanted to visit you, so I told him the way. He should be here soon.”

A colleague. That word was all it took to drain the color from Monica’s face.

Trembling terribly inside her baggy robe, she stammered out a question. “Th-that, that person, um, what, er, what kind of, um, person…was he?”

“It was me.”

The clear, ringing voice came from behind Monica.

A frightened squeal escaped her throat. With stilted motions, she turned around—a good-looking man with sleek chestnut-colored hair in braids was leaning against the door, a smile on his face. Right next to him stood a beautiful blond woman wearing a maid’s uniform.

The man wore a splendid frock coat, with a monocle at his eye and a cane in his hand. Clearly, he was a refined, sophisticated gentleman. Above all, his vaguely feminine, delicate facial features were so attractive, most girls would have been enraptured at first sight.

Monica, however, stared at him in wide-eyed terror, desperately holding back a scream.

“L-L-L-L-L-L-Loui—Louis…?”

“I would appreciate if you wouldn’t change my name to L-L-L-Loui-Louis. It’s a little silly, don’t you think?”

“Ah! I-I’m so s-sorry…,” she stammered, on the verge of tears.

Without even a glance in Monica’s direction, the man walked straight over to Annie and smiled. Then he took her hand and placed a piece of candy in it. “Thank you for showing me the way, young lady.”

“You’re welcome.”

Annie smiled and returned the handsome guest’s show of courtesy, then put the candy in her pocket.

“Anyway,” she said, “I don’t want to get in the way of your work, so I’ll be going now. Bye-bye, Monica. See you again next month!”

The girl waved and left the little house, assuming a more graceful gait than usual. As she listened hopelessly to the clattering of the wagon growing more distant, Monica looked up at the man before her with tears in her eyes.

His frock coat and cane were camouflage. Normally, he wore a gold-embroidered robe and carried a magnificent staff—for he was a mage. The beautiful girl in the maid outfit waiting behind him was no human, either, but a spirit who had formed a contract with him.

“It’s, um, good to see you again…Mr. Louis,” Monica said, voice shaking.

He put his hand to his breast and offered an elegant bow. “Yes, it has been a while, hasn’t it, Lady Monica Everett? Or should I say, the Silent Witch of the Seven Sages?”

* * *

Magecraft refers to the usage of magical power, or mana, to cause miracles. Magecraft specifically is a type of magic wherein one chants in order to weave a magical formula and channel one’s mana.

Races that excel at using mana, such as spirits, don’t need magical formulas or incantations. Humans, however, are unable to control mana without the aid of a chant. They can use a technique called quick-chanting to shorten it, but it will still take several seconds.

However, one girl genius had made the impossible possible.

Her name was Monica Everett, and despite her extremely shy nature, difficulty talking, and current status as a mountain hermit, she stood at the pinnacle of Ridill’s mage hierarchy. She was one of the Seven Sages—the Silent Witch.

Monica couldn’t use all the magical formulas currently in existence without chanting, but she could manage it for about 80 percent.

A mage’s greatest weakness was being defenseless while chanting. Obviously, on a battlefield, that time could mean the difference between life and death. While some high mages could double the speed of their incantations with quick-chanting, Monica was the only one in the world who required no time at all.

And that was why she’d been chosen as one of the Seven Sages two years prior, at the young age of fourteen.

The story of how this girl genius acquired such an impressive skill was very straightforward.

She suffered from extreme shyness and social anxiety, both of which prevented her from being able to speak clearly around others.

Her reaction to Annie was still relatively minor. With someone she’d never met or someone whose personality clashed with hers, she would become too paralyzed to say anything. At worst, she would throw up or even faint. This obviously presented an obstacle to chanting.

Several years before this, Monica had been attending an institution that fostered new mages. But unable to chant during her practical exams, she’d failed and nearly flunked out. That was when she’d started thinking. With the examiners nearby, she became too nervous to chant—so then, the solution had been to use her magecraft silently.

Normally, a person would have dedicated their efforts to overcoming their shyness or social anxiety. Monica’s idea went in an entirely unexpected direction—and most terrifying of all, her talents went on to blossom.

And that was how Monica, for an utterly unmoving reason, mastered the art of unchanted magecraft. From there, her road to the ranks of the Seven Sages had been swift.

Her ability was truly the unexpected gain of a novel, though wholehearted, effort.

* * *

Monica’s home in the mountains had only two chairs. One of them currently had a stack of documents on it. She barely ever used that one. Seeing how many papers were in the pile, she gave up on lifting them. Instead, she pointed her finger.

When she did, the mountain of papers suddenly flew and danced into the air as though each had a mind of its own, moving from the chair to the desk.

Producing wind using magecraft wasn’t overly difficult. But to direct each individual document to its respective place elsewhere took very delicate mana control. Seeing her do this as though it were a matter of course—and without a chant, at that—made one of Louis’s slender eyebrows twitch.

“Wasting your talents as usual, my fellow Sage?”

This man, who had called Monica a colleague, was another of the Seven Sages. He was Louis Miller, the Barrier Mage. He was turning twenty-seven this year, making him ten years older than Monica. They’d both become Sages at the same time, however, so he often referred to her as his “fellow.”

When he wasn’t talking, Louis appeared to be a beautiful, delicate man, but he was also a martial mage, boasting the second-highest solo-dragon-slaying count in history. He had served as the leader of the Magic Corps and was feared and respected by its members for his shrewdness, or something like that.

What could Mr. Louis want…? O-oh no, is he going to tell me to go slay dragons again?

In any case, he was scary when mad, so Monica gestured him toward the newly cleared-off seat, trembling all the while.

Louis sat down, then looked at the maid waiting behind him. “Ryn, a soundproof barrier, please.”

“Right away, sir.”

The maid he’d called Ryn gave a nod, and all noise from the surrounding area disappeared at once. The inside and outside of the house had been separated, blocking even the sounds of the wind and the cries of birds.

Ceasing his pretend nap on the shelf, Nero shuddered his whiskers uncomfortably, and his golden eyes stared at the woman in the maid uniform.

She was a tall, slender beauty. But though she had a pretty face, it was expressionless. It made her look somewhat like a doll.

The reason she’d been able to put up a barrier without chanting was that she wasn’t a human but a high spirit. Only about ten mages in the kingdom could claim a high spirit as their attendant.

“I’ll get right down to it. I’ve come today to ask a favor of you.”

“A…a favor…?” asked Monica without trying to hide her wariness.

Louis offered a graceful smile and rested his chin on his gloved hands. Even his little actions were picture-perfect. “Yes. Last month, I received sealed orders from His Majesty directing me to serve as the second prince’s bodyguard.”

“…Huh?” Monica’s eyes widened.

This kingdom had three princes, each born to a different mother: Prince Lionel, who would be twenty-seven this year; Prince Felix, who would be eighteen; and Prince Albert, who would be fourteen. Viewpoints were split among the kingdom’s nobles over which of them would inherit the throne.

Monica had no interest in these sorts of power struggles, so her only knowledge on the matter came from hearsay. Apparently, the first and second princes’ factions were about the same size, with the third prince’s being somewhat at a disadvantage.

These factions extended to the Seven Sages as well—Louis Miller, the Barrier Mage, was a representative of the first prince’s group.

Why would Louis have been ordered to guard the second prince? Monica frowned at the disconnect. “U-um, Mr. Louis… You’re, um, with the first prince’s faction, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I have my thoughts as to why His Majesty would order me to guard the second prince, but it would be disrespectful of me to speculate on his thoughts. What’s important is that he ordered me to carry out my mission without the second prince noticing.”

“…Without, um, the second prince…noticing?”

It went without saying that it was incredibly difficult to guard someone without alerting them. And why would the king order Louis, who supported the first prince, to guard the second? Why did it have to be kept secret from him?

As Monica sank into confusion, Louis continued to explain, his tone detached. “As I said, His Royal Highness Felix is currently attending an elite boarding school called Serendia Academy. If I’m to guard him without attracting his notice… Well, the most appropriate move would be to infiltrate the academy.”

Louis, infiltrating a school? In all honesty, Monica couldn’t wrap her head around that one. The Barrier Mage—including his appearance—was too well-known. Not to mention his handsome looks would stand out in a crowd. In short, he was particularly ill-suited to infiltration.

Louis seemed to realize this himself. “I could never do it, though,” he said plainly. “The academy is under the direct patronage of Duke Clockford, the leader of the second prince’s faction. I wouldn’t be able to infiltrate it.”

As the second prince’s maternal grandfather, Duke Clockford had some of the greatest authority in the kingdom. And frankly speaking, he and Louis were like oil and water. It was unlikely that the duke would cooperate with Louis on this secret bodyguard assignment.

“I-if you can’t enter the academy…then, um, how are you going to guard him…?”

“That’s why I created this magical item.”

Louis removed a small, wrapped object from his inside pocket and placed it on the desk. Inside the wrapping was a broken broach. A large crack ran through a sizeable ruby inlaid in the center, and the fine metal clasps had been ruined.

He removed the ruby so Monica could see it. The cracked ruby and exposed setting were each engraved with magical formulas. One look was all Monica needed to understand its basic function.

“…A…a compound barrier? Threat detection, a short-range physical-magical barrier, and a tracking-and-reporting function…?”

“All that from a single glance—but I expected no less. Yes. I took great pains to create this magical item in order to guard the prince.”

Magical items were tools using specially tailored jewels and the like imbued with mana to contain a magical formula. They were very convenient, as they granted their benefits even to those who were unable to use magecraft. However, they were still extravagant luxuries owned only by a handful of the most powerful nobles.

And if one of the Seven Sages, the greatest mages in the kingdom, had created this one, it must be priceless. It would probably fetch two or three houses in the royal capital, at least.

Louis brought the cracked ruby up to the light filtering in through the window.

“This is one of a pair of broaches, one ruby and one sapphire. Whoever possesses the ruby will know the location of whoever possesses the sapphire. If the sapphire holder comes under some sort of attack, it will trigger a defensive barrier. When that happens, the ruby will shine in response.”

Monica took another look at the magical formula embedded within. She remained silent for a few moments. Then, nervously, she asked Louis, “U-um, so does that mean…it’s more for keeping watch on the second prince…than protecting him?”

Louis smiled easily, as if to indicate he had no cause for guilt. “It’s only natural a bodyguard would need to know what the person was doing, right?”

“B-but wouldn’t he be mad if he found out…?”

“You seem to be somewhat too earnest, my fellow Sage… And for that, I offer this old adage.” Louis put a hand to his breast, then spoke clearly, like a clergyman citing scripture. “Anything goes as long as nobody knows.”

“…”

Is it really that simple? Monica couldn’t help wondering. Still, it would be difficult to read and understand a formula embedded in a magical item—especially an extremely complicated one made by Louis. Even high-ranking mages wouldn’t be able to figure it out so easily.

“I had His Majesty pass the broach to Prince Felix. He was to keep secret the fact that it was a magical item I had created and pretend it was a simple gift from father to son.”

As long as the second prince kept the broach on his person, then Louis would be able to constantly track his movements and respond to any emergencies. And besides, Duke Clockford was very strict in his administration of Serendia Academy. Any villains aiming for the prince’s life would have a hard time infiltrating it, so there was little chance of anything happening to begin with… Or so Louis had thought.

“Unfortunately, despite working on these broaches for a week without rest, it seems the one His Majesty gave to Prince Felix broke the very next day. A full week with no breaks, and it only took one day… When I saw the ruby crack, it was hilarious. I simply couldn’t restrain my laughter. Ha-ha-ha.”

Louis’s laugh was frighteningly monotone, and his eyes weren’t smiling in the least. This was no laughing matter. If Louis’s ruby had cracked, that would mean some kind of danger had befallen the second prince.

“S-so…was the second prince…a-all right?”

“Well, when the item broke, I dragged my sleep-deprived body out of bed and ran to the academy right away. And what do you think he said to me?” Louis’s eye gave a strange glow from behind his monocle. “His Royal Highness told me that nothing had happened. He told me that he’d broken the broach entirely by accident.”

The ruby in Louis’s hand made hard, cracking noises. Its shards tumbled out from between his gloved fingers.

“Something I made would not have broken that easily. In fact, I had imbued the broach with several self-protection formulas. Clearly, the blow it took was heavy enough to break them all… Prince Felix, however, isn’t talking.”

This whole conversation was starting to sound fishy. Monica had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.

Louis scattered the ruby’s fragments on the desk, then turned a smile on her, which belied his display of brute strength. “You’re beginning to get the picture, aren’t you?”

Monica shook her head no with all her might. Her straw-like braids swished from side to side.

Louis outright ignored her. “I’d like you to infiltrate the academy and protect the prince in my stead.”

The way he said it was so very casual, like he was asking to borrow a handkerchief for a second, but what he was asking was no easy feat.

“I—I can’t! Wh-why would you want me…?”

“I’m too famous. Look at how beautiful I am. I can’t cover all this up with a disguise, can I? You, on the other hand, seldom appear in social circles, and you keep your hood down over your eyes even during ceremonies. Nobody knows what you look like. And most importantly…” Louis paused, gave a smile gorgeous enough to enrapture anyone…

“Nobody would ever guess such a plain girl was one of the Seven Sages.”

…and insulted her.

From up on the shelf, Nero looked at her as if to say, Get angry! Tell him off! But all the weak-hearted Monica could manage was to say “I can’t” through sobs and sniffles. “I-I’ve never, um, guarded anyone before…”

“And that’s why you’re such a good fit.”

“…Huh?” The words surprised Monica enough to make her stop crying.

Louis wearily lowered his gaze and shook his head. “His Royal Highness is an extremely sharp-witted boy… I sent a member of the Magic Corps to guard him, and he saw through it immediately. He’s been surrounded by bodyguards for almost as long as he’s been alive, so he’s good at spotting them. And that’s why I’m turning to you.”

He then fixed his gaze on Monica and declared, “Even he would never suspect a clear amateur, and a little girl at that, was secretly a bodyguard.”

“…”

“Above all, you can cast spells silently, without attracting attention. Perfect for a secret bodyguard, wouldn’t you say? There is nobody more suited to this mission than you.”

Louis’s logic seemed impeccable, but Monica couldn’t help thinking he was just trying to get back at the prince for breaking his magical item.

Seeing that Monica was maintaining her silence, Louis took a deep, exaggerated breath. “It’s been about two years since you and I were appointed to the Seven Sages… And the only work you’ve done has been holing up and staring at papers.”

“B-but I went to slay that, um, that dragon, you know, three months ago…”

“I’ve slain ten dragons in the three months since then. What’s your point?”

There was no clear hierarchy among the Seven Sages, but Monica and Louis—by virtue of their newness—tended to get assigned a lot of busywork. Over these past two years, Louis had mainly been given dragon-slaying missions and Monica more clerical duties. Most of the documents in her house were related to mathematical work she’d accepted from the other Sages.

“These jobs you’re doing are for mathematicians. For bookkeepers. You do realize you’re one of the seven greatest mages in the Kingdom of Ridill, yes? Doesn’t it stand to reason there would be some tasks only you could perform? You do, right? I’m sure you do. If you don’t, please understand that, okay? …I demand it.”

An order. How ruthless.

“B-but I only got to join the Seven Sages because I was on the waiting list…”

“His Majesty has left personnel choices for the second prince’s guard completely in my hands. In other words…you don’t have the right to refuse, my fellow Sage.”

Louis grabbed her shoulders and leveled a direct, razor-like glare at her—and out of reflex, Monica nodded. By accident.

He retracted his dangerous smile and let go of her shoulders. “I’m glad we understand each other. In addition, these orders come directly from the king himself…so please consider execution a possibility should you fail, and pay attention.”

A shudder ran through Monica at the word execution. She didn’t want to take on a scary mission like that. Unfortunately, once she had given Louis a nod of agreement, there was no escape. All she could do now was hide her identity at all costs for an entire year, until the second prince graduated, and carry out her mission as a bodyguard.

As she begrudgingly resolved herself, Louis continued smoothly:

“Now let me explain what this mission will actually entail. Several years ago, there was a poor, miserable girl with no relatives living at a certain religious house in Count Kerbeck’s domain, in the east of Ridill.”

“…Uh-huh.”

“But then the previous count Kerbeck’s wife, seeing her late husband in the girl, adopted her. The girl was given a happy life, doted on by the previous countess Kerbeck.”

“That’s a…nice story.”

Monica’s unsophisticated appraisal prompted Louis to theatrically shake his head. When he continued, his voice was thick with sorrow. “But one day, the countess—an old woman—collapsed from illness and eventually passed on from this world of the living.”

“Oh no…”

“Having lost her guardian, the girl was shunned by the others in the count’s family and given minor errands as a servant of the count’s noble daughter. When that daughter enrolled in Serendia Academy, the poor girl was enrolled as well, as her caretaker.”

“I…I feel so bad for her…”

“Indeed. And you will play the part of that poor girl.”

Monica was silent for a good ten seconds before opening her mouth to say, “What?”

“That’s the story you’ll be using to infiltrate Serendia. Make sure you have it good and memorized before your admission.”

Monica broke out in a cold sweat. Louis had just assigned her an outrageous backstory, and with complete seriousness.

“Um…,” she mumbled. “I-it’s so much, I can’t even…”

“As long as you have a troubled past, nobody will pry very much. Incidentally, I based your story on a character from this book.”

Ryn, the high-ranking spirit wearing a maid outfit and waiting behind Louis, smoothly produced a book. The author’s name was Dustin Gunther—a recent favorite novelist of Nero’s. With cultivated motions, Ryn held the book out to Monica and spoke.

“It is a romantic novel where the heroine, bullied by the count’s daughter, catches the eye of a prince. Eventually, the two fall into a forbidden love. The dismal and knavish methods by which the noble daughter bullies her are written very intricately. It is, in my opinion, a fascinating work.”

Nero listened to Ryn’s description from atop the shelf, a look of keen interest on his face, his tail swaying to and fro. This house contained several books by Dustin Gunther, but they were all older ones. The book Ryn had was the author’s newest work. It was only natural that Nero would be interested.

With Monica flustered, Ryn gently placed the book into her hands. “I will lend this to you. I hope it serves you well as a reference.”

How is this supposed to be a reference? And for what? thought Monica, pretending to flip through the pages. She’d spent many hours reading magecraft-related books, but she wasn’t too familiar with novels meant for entertainment, and the contents didn’t stick well in her mind.

“U-um… The story you thought of, Louis—it means I’ll enroll along with Count Kerbeck’s daughter, but…”

“Yes, of course! I’ve already told Count Kerbeck about it and asked Lady Isabelle, his only daughter, to provide assistance.”

Monica’s eyes widened. “W-with a story like that?! W-won’t that, um, cause trouble for the, um, House of Kerbeck?” After all, if they followed Louis’s story, that would make Count Kerbeck and his daughter, Isabelle, out to be the bad guys. She paled. She couldn’t possibly make them do such a thing.

Louis, however, was calm and relaxed. “What do you know about Count Kerbeck?”

“Huh? Um…”

Monica was good with numbers, but not so much with remembering the names of people and places. Still, the name Count Kerbeck did tug at her memories a bit. She recalled hearing it relatively recently.

“Oh… The dragons…”

“Exactly. When you slew the Black Dragon of Worgan three months ago, that was in Count Kerbeck’s lands. He is deeply grateful to you for it—in fact, he said he would assist the Silent Witch with anything.”

Count Kerbeck had prepared a feast of gratitude for Monica, who had slain the Black Dragon of Worgan. However, Monica had declined and fled back to her cabin, so she’d never met the count or his daughter.

Monica had been worried that her refusal would have soured the count’s opinion of her, but apparently, he’d been impressed—he’d taken it as a show of the Silent Witch’s profound modesty.

“I’ve already given the cover story to Count Kerbeck and his noble daughter. The count was more than happy to oblige. ‘Well now! That sounds just like a ballad, doesn’t it?’ he said.”

“M-more than happy…?”

“And Lady Isabelle’s eyes were glittering. ‘Villainesses are all the rage lately!’ she said.”

“A-are they…?”

Apparently, the novel Louis had drawn from was hugely popular in the capital. As it turned out, Lady Isabelle was a big fan, and she’d make special trips for each new book.

“Lady Isabelle is hard at work developing her character into the perfect villainess to bully you.”

“…”

“Essentially, it comes down to this. You will infiltrate the academy, Lady Isabelle will bully you, and you will protect the second prince. What? You’re great at playing the bullied child, aren’t you?”

“…” Monica couldn’t even answer that one…

…because she was nearly unconscious.

If he had already arranged Count Kerbeck’s assistance in the matter, Louis had never intended to let Monica out of this.

* * *

Even after Louis and Ryn left her cabin, Monica remained in a dazed state on the floor. Louis had said he would come by at the same time the next day and that she should have her things ready to go by then. But she honestly didn’t even know where to start.

“Hey, Monica. Are you alive? Heeey!”

Nero used his front paw to prod Monica’s foot. Normally, the soft, squishy pad was a soothing sensation for her, but she couldn’t enjoy it right now.

“What do I do…? I—I can’t guard someone… I was only on the waiting list for the Seven Sages…”

“You said that before, didn’t you? What do you mean by ‘waiting list’?”

Nero was confused—he didn’t know much about human affairs. Sniffling loudly, Monica recalled the Seven Sage examinations two years ago.

“T-two years ago,” she began, “they were selecting new Sages…”

“Right.”

“…And I… During the interview, I was so nervous that I began hyperventilating.”

“Right.”

“…I don’t remember much, but they said my eyes rolled back, and I fainted. I was foaming at the mouth…”

Nero, eyes narrowed, wagged his tail. “…And how on earth did that get you into the Seven Sages?”

“I-it just so happened that one of the Sages at the time fell ill and had to quit…so a second spot opened up. And then they chose me out of pity…”

Nobody had told her this, but Monica was sure that Louis had been the only person who had actually passed the examination. He was a talented mage. Former leader of the Magic Corps, he backed up his accomplishments with his incredible abilities. Monica, on the other hand, was a little girl who was only good at calculations, who stayed holed up in a laboratory year-round. There was no comparison.

“I can’t believe he’d choose someone from a waiting list as a bodyguard for a prince… I—I can’t do it! I can’t, I can’t!”

As Monica hung her head and buried her face in her hands, Nero patted Monica’s foot soothingly. “If you really don’t want to do it, why not just run away?”

“I—I can’t. Because if I run away…Louis will chase me to the ends of the earth…”

Louis Miller, the Barrier Mage, was a beautiful man with the manners of a noble—but he was also one of the most powerful martial mages in the kingdom. Monica knew that underneath those gloves were hands heavily calloused from fighting.

“Is that guy even human? He seems more like a keeper of the underworld than one of the Seven Sages.”

“He’s about as scary as one!”

Monica knew that she couldn’t run, but she was still scared. As she sniffled again, Nero, tail swaying, made a proposal.

“In that case, let’s be positive about it, eh? You’re going to be guarding a prince. You know, a prince! They’re really cool, right? They practically sparkle. Human females all love princes, don’t they?”

“…I don’t know.”

“The Seven Sages have to do ceremonies and such, yeah? Have you ever seen a prince’s face before?”

Monica shook her head. With her social anxiety, Monica hated crowds. During ceremonies, she always had her robe’s hood pulled deep over her eyes and kept to herself until it was over with. She’d never even gotten a good look at the king’s face up on his throne.

“Hey, Monica. I just had a thought.”

“…Hmm?”

“If you don’t know what the person you’re guarding looks like…isn’t that bad?”

“…What should I do…?”

She couldn’t possibly be honest with Louis and tell him she didn’t know what the second prince looked like. Not to mention the punishment for failing this mission was…

The word execution flew around in her mind, causing her to fall face-first on the floor and break down in tears. Nero patted her knee with his front paw to try and offer some degree of consolation.