Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 1 - Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

The Second Prince’s Secret

“Oh, Selma, how positively terrible that your fiancé, Aaron, should have to leave school!”

“A sudden illness? What a waste—he’d become student council accountant and everything.”

“And he left you behind at the academy, too! I feel so sorry for you!”

Selma’s friends whispered to her, with expressions that said they didn’t feel the least bit sorry.

Friends… Yes, they were friends. Even if Selma had to suck up to them, even if she was the one who did all their errands, she could rest easy as long as she had people she could label friends. After all, her looks were plain and had no redeeming features. She had nothing—but if she had friends, then that was something.

“You know, I heard that Aaron was head over heels for Bridget, in third-year.”

“Oh, when he’s already engaged to Selma?!”

“I suppose one can’t blame him—Lady Bridget is truly beautiful.” Selma’s friend, mouth hidden behind her fan, then added in a low voice, “Unlike plain-looking Selma.”

Aaron O’Brien—he was a very precious fiancé for someone who had nothing. Even if Aaron didn’t love her, he was still important to her. That’s why I have to help him, she thought. And that person said I was the only one who could… Selma squeezed her hands into fists inside her brand-new gloves.

A moment later, her friends all looked up, their voices brightening. Selma followed suit and saw a young man with olive-brown hair looking at her—the student council secretary, Elliott Howard.

“Hi there, Lady Selma Karsh. I’m sorry to bother you during your valuable break time. Do you have a few moments?”

Ah, so it’s time. Selma bit her lip and didn’t say anything.

* * *

It was lunch break, several hours after Monica had ascertained the culprit behind the falling flowerpot. She was in the student council room waiting when Elliott returned with Selma Karsh in tow.

Selma was looking down and cowering, making her already small frame even smaller. It was the face of someone who knew why they were there. Her features were pale but filled with tragic resolve, her hazel eyes darkened.

Excluding Selma, the only three in the room were Felix, Elliott, and Monica. Selma’s eyes darted questioningly to Monica for a brief moment. She was probably wondering why Monica was in the student council room.

“Now then.”

With that short preface from Felix, the mood in the room changed at once. All he had done was let a tiny chill creep into his usually serene voice, and the tension around them pulled taut. Just a slight narrowing of his gentle blue eyes altered the character of his smile.

He could intimidate and command those around him with only his tone of voice and facial expression. That was what it meant to be royalty—Monica felt this keenly as she saw Selma shrink back.

“Two days ago, on the day before the entrance ceremony, a signboard at the venue fell down toward me. And yesterday, in the rear gardens, a flowerpot did as well. Very similar incidents. Most likely committed by the same person.”

Felix’s fingers tapped on the desk. That was all it took for Selma to nearly jump out of her skin.

“Lady Monica Norton here insists that you were behind both. Lady Norton, would you mind explaining your logic?”

Monica squeaked in surprise. She’d just informed Felix and Elliott of her investigation’s results. She wished the prince would have explained instead, but she reluctantly began to speak.

“Um,” she said, “the location of the signboard incident had already been cleaned up, so I had no way of investigating it, but… As for what balcony the flowerpot was dropped from… A look at where it landed and the way it shattered makes that relatively clear. The flowerpot was dropped from music room two on the fourth floor.”

As Monica began to write equations on the blackboard to give a more concrete explanation, Felix cut her off.

“No need to go that far.”

Ugh… But talking about equations is so much easier… Glumly putting the chalk down, she continued. “Once I knew what balcony it had been dropped from, the rest was simple. You have to submit an application to use music room two, so…”

“I verified it personally,” said Elliott, glaring at Selma. “The only application to use music room two during lunch break yesterday was submitted under your name, Lady Selma Karsh.”

Selma remained silent, eyes downcast. Monica chose her next words carefully.

“Next to the balcony railing, I found one dirty flowerpot placed upside down. This is because the culprit, someone short, used it as a stepping stool. The railing on that balcony is pretty high, so…”

The use of one flowerpot as a stepping stool and another, empty and thus lighter, flowerpot for the crime both spoke to the likelihood that the culprit was a petite girl without much physical strength. And most importantly…

Monica looked at Selma. She was wearing a pair of brand-new white gloves. Gloves were part of the uniform at the academy, but when Monica had woken up in the infirmary, Selma hadn’t been wearing them. Her fingers had been delicate and white—they were the hands of a maiden who had never known manual labor, and their image was still burned into Monica’s memory.

The reason she hadn’t been wearing gloves was because she’d gotten them dirty when she’d moved the flowerpot to use it as a stepping stool. The pot dropped from the balcony had been clean—only the one turned upside down was dirty. The reason Selma had flipped over the pot even if it meant getting her gloves dirty was because she had needed the added height.

“…I found a pair of dirt-stained gloves in the garbage bin of the powder room closest to music room two. Your initials were embroidered on them.”

That was the final blow. Selma, who had already been looking down, dropped to her knees and covered her face with her hands. “Yes… Yes, it was me!” she cried, sobbing and lifting up her face. Her tear-soaked cheeks twitched as her lips formed a warped smile. Her eyes were wide now and unfocused. “I was the one who dropped the flowerpot and the signboard… And I was the one who embezzled the funds, too! I did everything! I pushed Aaron to do it! I deceived him every step of the way! So… Oh, please, I beg you, have mercy on him… He isn’t at fault. I’ll return all the money he embezzled!”

Felix watched with pity in his eyes as Selma pleaded desperately, then shook his head.

“Unfortunately, we already know Aaron O’Brien was involved in the embezzlement. Nothing you can say will overturn his sentence.”

“Please… Please, I… You can do whatever you want with me… Just forgive him…,” begged Selma through her sobs.

Elliott made a sour face. “Why would you go this far to protect Aaron? He was spending that money on other women. You’re his fiancée.”

The question was cruel, but Selma didn’t seem shocked. She probably already knew that Aaron didn’t love her. But she’d still borne a grudge against Felix for Aaron’s sentence, had attempted to harm Felix, and in the end had tried to take all the blame for the embezzlement.

Had it been out of devotion? Or had she wanted that badly to win Aaron’s heart? Monica couldn’t tell.

Monica had been able to figure out that Selma was the culprit merely from examining the flowerpot shards. But no matter how many words were lined up in explanation, she couldn’t understand the girl’s feelings—of wanting Aaron to love her.

Selma’s crimes had been very sudden and reckless. It was as if she didn’t care if she was found out, as long as she could protect Aaron.

…How can someone put that much faith in another? thought Monica, looking at the girl impassively.

Felix then instructed Elliott to take Selma to a separate room. Eventually, she’d probably be given the same sentence as Aaron.

After Selma and Elliott had left the room, Monica glanced over at Felix. “Um… What’s going to…to happen to her?”

“The signboard and flowerpot incidents were attempts to assassinate royalty. It’s only reasonable that she and her entire family would be given the maximum possible penalty, don’t you think?”

Felix’s voice was calm but cold. Monica balled her hands in front of her chest and shuddered. She’d proven Selma’s guilt and thus sentenced her and her entire family to death.

…This is what it means to protect royalty. Monica looked down, the color drained from her face.

At that, Felix softened his tone somewhat. “…That’s what I would have said, at least, but making these incidents public would present a problem. The more appropriate thing to do in this situation would be to have her, too, willingly leave school due to health issues.” He straightened up in his seat and sighed a little. “And more than that, the sight of her throwing away everything for someone important to her…was rather moving.”

His blue eyes seemed to look through Monica to someplace far away. Monica’s brow furrowed, and she tilted her head to one side. “I-is that so?”

As she’d watched Selma try to throw her life away with no guarantee of reward, Monica hadn’t seen her behavior as noble—she had thought it was terrifying.

Monica understood attachment. But her attachment was to equations and magical formulas. She couldn’t feel that attachment for people and so she couldn’t understand Selma.

…I just don’t really get it.

At any rate, the case had been closed, and thus suspicion toward Monica had been lifted. Figuring she could go back to class now, she glanced a few times at Felix.

“Then I’ll, um, just be…going…”

But right as she said that, her eyes fell on the documents Felix had spread out on his desk. Judging by the dense lines of numbers on them, they were accounting records. The revision markings dotting the pages were probably corrections of items Aaron O’Brien had altered.

As she looked at all the numbers, she felt her pulse quicken with excitement. She was the type whose heart sang at the sight of pages filled with numbers, just like these accounting records.

…But the sparkle in Monica’s eye soon dimmed. “…Three places,” she murmured, eyeing the documents dubiously.

“I’m sorry?” said Felix, tilting his head.

Until now, Monica had been keeping plenty of distance between herself and Felix, but now she barged over to his desk, pointed at the papers, and said in an unusually firm tone, “Right here, and here, and here—the numbers aren’t correct.”

Monica loved beautiful equations. Just as others might cherish works of art for their beauty, Monica loved formulas. That was why seeing incomplete equations or fishy accounting records made her very irritated. Like stains on otherwise perfect works of art, miscalculations drove her mad.

And the documents in front of her were just littered with stains.

As Monica eyed the papers closely, Felix addressed her.

“Do you know how to read accounting records?”

“Only the central system and the western standard system, but yes…,” answered Monica, staring only at the written numbers, without even glancing at Felix. Anyone would agree her behavior was an affront to royalty.

But rather than rebuke her, Felix’s lips turned up in an amused smile. “Lady Norton, if it’s all right with you, would you help review these records?”

Monica’s head jerked away from the numbers, and she exclaimed, “May I?!”

The work that had piled up in her mountain cabin was being assigned by Louis Miller to other people, and her classes at Serendia Academy were mainly language, history, and culture.

To be blunt, Monica had been starved for numbers.

“Come here,” said Felix, beckoning for her to follow him to the adjacent reference room. Inside were beautifully adorned locked shelves, each of which was packed full of string-bound documents. “In the back are the historical student records, next to those are current student records, and then those related to faculty. Records of events are over here.”

Felix proceeded to explain the contents of each and every shelf before stopping in front of the one farthest to the right.

“And this is the shelf for accounting documents,” he said, removing a ring of keys from his shirt pocket, unlocking the shelf, and removing some documents. The room contained a workstation with a desk and chair, and he placed the papers on the desk. “What I’d like to request from you is a review of our accounting records dating back five years.”

“I…I understand!” answered Monica, unable to hide her jubilation.

“Thank you,” Felix said with a winning smile.

Most noble girls would be enraptured by a smile like that, but Monica’s wide eyes were already glued to the stack of papers before her.

“As for your classes,” he continued, “I’ll talk to your teachers. There’s a lot of it, so just do what you can for now.”

“I will!” she answered, already flipping through the ledgers.

Her eyes were sparkling—she hadn’t been this excited in a long time.

* * *

…Now then.

Watching Monica’s profile as she got to work on the ledgers, Felix—as naturally as he could—dropped his key ring from his pocket.

The girl didn’t seem to notice the light ching-ling it made as it hit the floor. But he’d dropped it between the work desk and the shelf of documents, so she would be sure to see it when she got up. Then he left her alone in the reference room.

Once he was down the hallway and around a corner, he checked to make sure nobody was nearby, then gave his pocket a light tap. “Wildianu?”

At Felix’s call, a small lizard slithered out of his pocket. The lizard’s eyes were light blue, and his scales were white with a hint of that same light blue. No lizard had coloring like this, but this was no lizard—this was a high-ranking spirit contracted to Felix.

“Did you call, Master?”

Felix placed a hand next to his pocket, and Wildianu climbed up his finger and crawled onto the back of his hand. He brought the lizard close to his face and quietly commanded him, “Stay near the reference room and keep an eye on Lady Norton.”

“…Is that why you purposely dropped the keys?”

Felix gave a quiet chuckle. This smile was different from his usual “princely” smile, which was calm and gentle. This was the smile of a hunter setting a trap.

Now that Monica had gotten close to him and asked to see their accounting records, Felix no longer believed her to be just some ordinary girl. He had to assume she had some goal in mind, and he could think of three possibilities.

The first possibility was that she’d been sent by Duke Clockford, his maternal grandfather, to keep an eye on him. The second was that she’d been sent by his father, the king, to keep an eye on him or to protect him. The third and final possibility was that she was an assassin after his life.

But for someone sent by Duke Clockford or the king, Monica was surprisingly incompetent. It was hard to imagine either of them would send someone so absentminded and careless.

Still, though, he was far from convinced that she was an assassin sent to kill him. She hadn’t even appeared to know his face. And besides, if she was an assassin, she would have tried to harm him when he went out the night before.

From the back of Felix’s hand, the white lizard hesitantly asked, “Isn’t it possible that Lady Monica Norton truly is…just a girl?”

“That’s why I’m testing her.”

If Monica had come to this academy with an objective in mind, she was sure to fish around in the reference room—using the keys Felix had dropped.

“If Lady Norton picks up the keys and starts scavenging through bookshelves that don’t have anything to do with her work, report it to me.”

That was why Felix had told her which shelf was which to begin with.

“Understood, Master,” said Wildianu before Felix gently lowered him to the floor.

“Let’s wait, say, until classes end today. By that time, she’ll have shown us her true colors.”

“…And if she hasn’t?”

At Wildianu’s question, Felix narrowed his blue eyes and smiled.

“Hmm. In that case…”

* * *

Each day after classes ended, people with places to go—those attending clubs, tea parties, and the like—had to move. Naturally, the hallways became packed.

Among the crowd were three female students standing and chatting by the student council room. At their center was Caroline Simmons, the caramel-haired daughter of Count Norn.

“Why was Selma called to the student council, I wonder?” said Caroline from behind her folding fan.

Her two followers kept their voices down as they replied.

“Perhaps something has happened with Aaron. She is his fiancée, after all.”

“I doubt this would happen, but… She would never succeed him as the student council accountant, would she?”

Caroline snorted in amusement. To think—Selma, that boring, unappealing girl, a student council member!

Members of the student council were the elite of Serendia Academy. You couldn’t be chosen unless you both came from an excellent family and had excellent grades—especially not with Felix Arc Ridill, second prince of the kingdom, as its current president.

King Ridill had three sons, but he hadn’t yet announced who would inherit the throne. Currently, the movement supporting the second prince as the next king was gaining strength among the nobility. After all, he was the one with the backing of Duke Clockford, a major noble. The second prince’s faction grew stronger by the day. If this state of affairs continued, he would surely inherit the throne.

That also meant that all the noble ladies at this academy were practically falling over one another to become his fiancée. All the more so as Felix was much, much more physically attractive than the boorish first prince or the young and forgettable third prince.

Caroline, who had fallen in love with Felix at first sight, loitered near the student council room every chance she got. With Felix being in his third year and Caroline in her second, they had few chances to encounter each other, even in the same school. She would have to create those opportunities herself.

Lord Felix should be coming down the hallway any minute, she thought, quietly determined. Today would be the day she would catch his eye.

Just then, she heard footsteps behind her. Her heart leaped in anticipation—could that be him? She turned around and saw, instead, a stunningly beautiful girl with sleek blond hair.

This was the only female student in the student council—Bridget Greyham, daughter of Marquess Shaleberry. She was also one of the three most beautiful girls at Serendia Academy. Turning her pretty face toward the other students, she said coldly, “You’re blocking traffic. Could you move along?”

That was all it took to make Caroline’s two followers look down in embarrassment and moved over to the wall. Caroline followed suit. If this were Lana Colette, that impudent nouveau riche girl, she’d probably have said, Why don’t you go around me? Bridget, however, was on a completely different level.

Her grades were excellent, and she maintained a high rank even as a third-year. Especially when it came to linguistic fields—she was a genius rivaling even Felix, who held the highest-ranking grades overall. Neither her appearance nor her family lineage left anything to be desired, and she was Felix’s childhood friend.

And above all, Bridget was the only female student Felix had nominated to the current student council. That alone showed the trust he’d placed in her, and many thought she was the most suited to be his fiancée.

She was an impeccable, perfect lady. In her presence, all Caroline could do was quietly look down and yield the way.

* * *

Bridget headed straight toward the student council room, without even so much as a glance at the girls standing outside. But when she turned the doorknob, her face scrunched up in suspicion. It was unlocked.

I was sure I’d be the first to arrive, she thought, a little confused, stepping into the room. She couldn’t see anyone, but she could hear quiet sounds coming from the adjacent reference room. Thinking she would say hello to whoever was working, she peered into the room and was struck silent.

One of the shelves was empty, and stacks of paper were piled on the floor. At the desk in the back of the room, silently reading through the documents, was someone she hadn’t expected to see there of all places—a girl with light-brown hair.

“You were in the music room earlier, weren’t you? State your class and name. By whose permission have you entered this room?”

Despite Bridget speaking to her, the small girl didn’t even give a start—or any reaction at all.

“Answer me,” Bridget said more firmly. Still no response.

Growing impatient, Bridget was about to raise her voice even higher when two male students appeared behind her, both student council members.

“Oh? Lady Bridget got here first today, huh… Wait, what in the world?!”

“The documents have been left out everywhere! Wait—who is that?”

Both Elliott and Neil, the officer of general affairs, were shocked as they came up behind Bridget.

Elliott appeared to know the girl who had made a mess of the reference room, and he went up to the desk and addressed her.

“Lady Norton, what are you doing here? These are accounting records, aren’t they? You shouldn’t be looking at them without permission. Hey, Lady Norton. Lady Monica Norton, can you hear me?”

Despite Elliott’s efforts, the girl whom he’d called Monica didn’t seem to notice whatsoever. She continued reading through the accounting records without a word.

Neil furrowed his brow in worry. “By the looks of it, she’s a second-year student like me… I haven’t seen her before, though.” He approached the desk and called to her from behind. “Hello? Excuse me? I’d like to talk to you. Do you have a moment?”

Still no answer as the girl flipped silently through page after page of the records. Sometimes, she would write a few numbers on a small slip of paper and place it between the pages. Her eyes never left those documents—never turned around to Bridget and the others.

As Elliott and Neil stood there at a loss, Bridget pushed past them and went up to the girl herself. Then she raised the folding fan in her hand and brought it down hard on the girl’s cheek.

A loud slap echoed through the room, and the girl stopped for a moment. Elliott and Neil both recoiled, terrified at Bridget’s behavior.

In the meantime, Bridget unfolded her fan and said coldly, “Awake now?”

“……”

The girl had stopped working for a few seconds, but eventually she started flipping through the pages again like nothing had happened.

* * *

That hurt.

Monica, her head lost in the world of numbers, suddenly felt a sharp pain in her cheek.

Things that hurt are scary. Scary things are hard to deal with.

The more pain and fear she felt, the more Monica’s thoughts sank into the math.

After all, while she was thinking about numbers, everything was easy.

This beautiful world of numbers would never hurt her.

It would never say awful things and never cause her pain.

So when Monica felt the blow to her cheek, she turned ever further away from reality and plunged back into her equations.

* * *

Ack, this is really bad! Monica’s completely out of control!

During his explorations of the school building, the black cat Nero had happened to spot this scene through the student council window. He’d witnessed it all—including when Monica had been slapped with the fan.

No, that won’t work! Hitting her like that has the opposite effect! If you make Monica scared right now, she’ll only become harder to reach!

Nero knew how to return her to her senses. The answer was his paws. If he squished her cheeks with his paws, she’d come to. He wanted to go to her, but the window was locked, and he couldn’t get inside. He scratched at the window, meowing.

The smallest boy was the first to notice Nero. “Oh, a cat,” he said. The other two followed his gaze to the window.

Great! Here we go!

Nero gently settled on the window frame, striking his cutest pose and giving a nice “meow.”

How do you like my secret technique?! I’ve put everything into this alluring pose! It makes all the little girls go absolutely crazy for me! When he posed like this, most humans would be charmed instantly and let him inside.

You can feel free to groom me and give me food, too! thought Nero, snorting proudly.

The young lady with the folding fan said flatly, “I hate creatures who are only good at sucking up to others.”

Mew, mew… Mew—what?!

Nero flew into a rage. How could he tolerate this? The answer was that he couldn’t. This was absolutely unacceptable. He was way too cute to be treated this way!

Which one of you just called me a creature who’s only good at sucking up?! Try saying that to my face! I’ll show you what happens when I mean business.

Nero stamped his feet and meowed angrily, but Monica still didn’t notice him. As he thought, the only way to get her to snap out of it was to squeeze her cheeks with his paws.

Let! Me! In! Let me squish her cheeks!

As Nero scratched frantically at the window, another two people entered the reference room.

It was the second prince and student council president and a silver-haired boy who appeared to be his aide.

The second prince, his golden locks glittering, glanced around the reference room.

“Hi there,” he said. “What’s all the ruckus about?”

* * *

The first thing Felix did upon entering the reference room was check the key ring.

…It’s still where I dropped it.

Casually, he glanced over at the other shelves, but there were no signs of tampering. The only one that had been completely ransacked was the shelf that held the accounting records.

Wildianu, the lizard who had snuck into the room to keep an eye on Monica Norton, crawled up Felix’s clothes. Eventually, when he had reached Felix’s shoulder, he said, softly enough not to be overheard by the others, “All she’s been doing for hours, ever since lunch break, is reviewing those records.”

“…Hmm.”

Felix picked up some of the papers at his feet and gave their contents a look. They were accounting records from twenty-four years ago, with small slips of paper indicating the corrected figures. The other documents were the same.

As he was looking them over, Vice President Cyril stared at Monica with suspicion. “I remember you from the staircase incident earlier… What are you doing here?”

“Staircase incident? Cyril, are you acquainted with Lady Norton?” asked Felix.

Cyril stammered out a vague “w-well, sort of” and nodded.

Monica showed no reaction to this exchange, either. She continued silently working.

That was when Felix suddenly noticed the swelling on Monica’s right cheek. “What is this?” he asked.

“A little punishment from me to someone who is being very rude,” answered Bridget with a straight face before concealing her mouth with her fan.

So Monica’s attitude had irritated Bridget. With gloved fingertips, he lightly brushed Monica’s cheek. But once again, she didn’t even blink.

“I asked her to do a review of our accounting records,” he explained to the others, doing some mental arithmetic on a page with a correction slip.

Her correction was right on the mark—there was a defect.

…Then she’s going through all the past records? Even Felix couldn’t help but be surprised. How long had it been since something had surprised him this much?

Feeling a twinge of admiration, Felix softly tapped Monica on the shoulder. “Lady Norton, excellent work. You can take a break now.”

Monica didn’t answer him.

“Lady Norton?” Felix shook her shoulder a little bit more firmly, but Monica raised her right arm—and of all things, brushed his hand away in annoyance.

This sent a stir through the other council members. Cyril, who had sworn an oath of loyalty to Felix, was especially angry—enraged, even. Veins appeared on his temples, and he began to spread ice mana. Cyril was generally a very polite young man when it came to the female students, but if someone harmed Felix, that was a different story.

“You wretch! How dare you act so rudely toward His Royal Highness! You deserve to be hung!” he raged, starting to chant a spell.

Felix held a hand up to stop him. Monica was focusing every ounce of attention she had on doing her calculations. The girl who had been so fidgety and nervous trying to judge his reactions wasn’t even looking at him any longer.

A hint of curiosity began to tickle his heart, and a thin smile appeared on his lips. He stroked Monica’s face with a finger, then gave her a little peck on her swollen cheek.

As the other council members looked on in silent shock, Monica suddenly stopped moving—but her eyes remained on the documents.

“…Nero, just a minute… I’m almost done…”

“Nero?” repeated Felix, tilting his head to the side.

Monica’s thin shoulders suddenly gave a start, and the feather pen fell from her hand. Soon, she began to tremble all over, lifting up her small face to look at Felix.

“P-P-P-P-Pri-Prin-Pr-Pri-Pri…”

“Yes. That’s more like it.” Felix laughed brightly at Monica’s strange stammering.

Monica fell from her chair and proceeded to prostrate herself on the floor.

“I’m, I’m so, so, sor-sorr— Ack!” She must have bitten her tongue at the end. She held her mouth and started whimpering. “If furts.”

Enjoying the chance to watch such a strange and delightful creature, Felix gently patted her head. “You can look up, all right? You did your best to fulfill my request, didn’t you? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Eep… Y-yeffir—” Monica nodded, sniffling loudly.

“Um, sir,” interrupted Elliott. “Sir, you ordered this little squirrel to review the records?”

“Yes. I asked her to look over the last five years, but… Even I didn’t expect her to go through all our past records in just a few hours.” Felix paused, then smiled at Monica, who was still sniffling. “Lady Norton, what did you think when you looked at those accounting records?”

“U-um… Well…”

“You can be honest with me. I won’t be angry,” he encouraged her, voice calm.

Monica began to fiddle with her fingers. “…A surprising amount of money is being moved around, and yet, its management is surprisingly sloppy, which, um, surprised me.”

“How dare you!” screamed Cyril.

Monica put her hands over her head. “You said you wouldn’t get mad…,” she whimpered.

Another thin smile appeared on Felix’s lips as he looked around at the other student council members. “This is the state of our student council’s long history. Even I wasn’t able to immediately identify Aaron O’Brien’s misdeeds… And so, reflecting on past mistakes, I would like to make a declaration.” He then took Monica’s hand as she continued to sob and cower, loudly proclaiming, “I hereby appoint the second-year advanced-course student Lady Monica Norton as student council accountant.”

A moment later, Monica’s eyes rolled back, and she fainted on the spot.

All the while, the black cat outside the window continued loudly meowing.

* * *

“Hey, Monica, wake up. Hey!”

Monica could hear Nero’s voice. She could feel the softness of his paw squishing her cheek.

Monica’s eyes cracked open, and she realized she was lying on a simple bed. The bed was surrounded by curtains intended to isolate it, and she could smell the faint scent of disinfectant.

She remembered the ceiling above her. This was the infirmary she’d been brought to after the flowerpot incident.

Rolling over in bed, she saw Nero seated at her side. Animals were forbidden in the infirmary, so he’d probably snuck in through a window.

“…Nero, listen to this. I just had an incredible dream. I dreamed I was made student council accountant…”

“Listen and be amazed, Monica, for that was no dream—that was real!” said Nero, poking Monica’s collar with his front leg.

An unfamiliar decorative pin now adorned her lapel. It was the same one Felix and the other student council members wore—proof that she was a council member.

Monica sat up in bed and fixed her eyes on the pin. “Wh-wha-what is this…?!”

“That sparkly prince put it on your collar. Humans really like this stuff, eh? Showing off their authority and all that.” Nero nodded to himself, then pummeled Monica in the thigh with his paws. “Either way, you’ve done an excellent job. Now you can stay near the prince as a student council member.”

“Y-yes, well… But…”

Considering her mission to secretly guard the second prince, her appointment as accountant was something to celebrate…but for an uninteresting girl like her to be chosen as a student council member? Few would be pleased with that.

At the time, Monica had been practically crawling on the floor, so she hadn’t seen the council members’ faces. But even from down there, she could feel their cold, hostile gazes. Especially from the vice president, Cyril Ashley. He’d seemed ready to use an offensive spell or two on her.

“Th-they’re going to bully me for sure… Ugh… They’re going to put thumbtacks in my shoes, and hide my pencils, and pour water on my uniform… I can’t; I don’t want to go back to class anymore…”

“Oh! I’ve read about things like that in novels! You mean people actually do that stuff?”

“Why does it sound like you’re enjoying this?!” cried Monica bitterly.

Just then, Nero’s ears perked up. “Hey, Monica, someone’s coming,” he said, quickly scooting under the bed to hide.

Who could it be? A nurse? thought Monica as the curtains surrounding the bed were pushed aside.

But it was no nurse—it was Felix.

Reflexively, she pulled her blanket over her head. She was fully aware that it was rude, but her hands had moved on their own. She couldn’t help it. It was a defensive instinct.

Felix didn’t seem unhappy about it, though. In fact, he grinned, apparently amused. “Oh, you’re up? Sorry for not saying something. I figured you were still asleep.”

“N-no, I, y-y-y-you d-d-do…”

“I do?”

“You don’t, um, need to…mention it…,” Monica squeezed out, using all her effort.

“I see,” said Felix, evidently entertained. Then, of all things, he sat on the edge of her bed and crossed his legs.

Wanting to create as much distance as possible between them, Monica, still wrapped in the blanket, moved herself right to the edge of the bed…then lost her balance and fell off.

“Eek!”

Thankfully, her blanket prevented any real damage. But she had sure been falling a lot today.

As she sat sniffling on the floor, Nero looked at her from under the bed as if to ask what in the world she was doing. At this point, she just wanted to hide under the bed in her blanket.

Felix addressed her yet again. “A little squirrel, wrapping herself in a blanket… Are you going into hibernation for the winter?”

“Y-yes, th-th-that’s right, um, today, well, it was, um, very c-cold, so…”

Summer had just given way to autumn, and the weather was extremely comfortable. Nevertheless, Monica gripped her blanket and heroically insisted she was cold.

Then Felix put his hand over Monica’s, still holding the blanket, and said, “Oh? You poor thing. We’ll have to warm you up, then.”

Monica immediately let go of the blanket, stood up, and jumped back and away from Felix…but she wasn’t used to such movements and tripped over her foot, falling back to the floor with a funny-sounding yelp.

Once again, her eyes met Nero’s under the bed. She wanted to cry. But she couldn’t scrabble around on the floor forever. She slowly sat back up, hid herself behind the bed, and looked at Felix. “U-um, Y-Your Royal, um…”

“Feel free to call me President or even simply Felix. I don’t mind. You’re my fellow council member now, after all.”

Felix’s words forced Monica to face reality.

She plucked the decorative pin off her lapel and said to Felix, body shaking, “Th-the role of accountant is, um…too much for me…sir.”

“Not happy with my leadership?”

Simply by letting a tiny bit of a chill creep into his voice, he was suddenly a lot more intimidating. Monica shook her head so hard, she felt like it might pop off.

Felix smiled and said, “Then there’s no problem, is there?” and took Monica’s hand. He turned it faceup, then pressed something into it. It was a baked treat with plenty of berries on top. “Your reward for today. You did a good job.”

“I, th-thank… Mgh!”

As Monica tried to thank him, he stuffed the treat into her mouth. Realizing she had skipped lunch, she began chewing it without speaking. It was a cookie—a little hard, with berries stuck onto it with honey. She’d never had anything like it before. It was very tasty.

Once she began eating, Monica was the type to focus on her meal until finished. For this reason, she forgot that she’d just requested to leave her accountant post and simply gnawed on the cookie, taking in its flavor.

“Is it good?” asked Felix, sounding amused.

Monica nodded at him, her mouth full of cookie.

He placed another in her hand, then quietly rose. “If you continue to do well, there’s more where that came from,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

Felix waved his hand and left the infirmary.

Alone now, Monica swallowed the rest of the cookie, then finally snapped out of her trance. “Ahhhh! I missed my chance to refuse the accountant position!” she wailed. “What am I supposed to do now, Nero?!”

“You know… You don’t sound very convincing with that snack in your hand.”

Monica sniffled, then put the cookie in her pocket.

Oh, right…, she thought. She brought her hand up to her swollen cheek and then looked at Nero, expression serious. “Nero, listen. I accidentally learned a huge secret about the prince.”

“Ooh? And what’s that? His weakness?” asked Nero, wagging his tail left and right, eyes sparkling.

Monica nodded gravely and said, “The prince……………………………………has paws.”

Nero said flatly, “No, he doesn’t.”

“B-but in the reference room! I felt a paw pad squish my cheek, and then I came to and saw him,” she insisted, rubbing her cheek.

Nero’s expression suddenly went serious. “Just forget about it, Monica. Understand? Forget about all of that.”

“Huh? Um, okay.”

* * *

Once Felix had returned to his dorm room, Felix’s white lizard, Wildianu, crawled up out of his uniform pocket. As the lizard landed on the floor, a pale mist enveloped him, and he transformed into a young man with hair the same color as the lizard’s scales. His features were handsome enough, but he seemed somehow forgettable and lacking in ambition. He wore a neat, well-fitted servant’s uniform. His hair was inhumanly white with hints of blue, and he wore it combed back.

Now in human form, the spirit Wildianu bowed reverently, then removed Felix’s vest and hung it up. He asked, somewhat hesitantly, “Was this wise, Master?”

It was obvious what Wildianu was getting at—Monica Norton’s appointment as accountant. Felix took a seat on the sofa and gave a slight shrug. “She didn’t touch the reference room keys I purposely dropped. You were watching her, right? I can’t think of any reason to criticize her.”

After Monica had passed out, he’d taken a look through all the records—and every single one of the things she’d pointed out had been correct. Seventy-four years of records, and Monica had reviewed them all within a matter of hours. Her mathematical abilities were perfectly suited for an accountant’s work.

“Of course, I don’t believe she’s just some girl,” said Felix. “I’m sure she had a reason to come into contact with me.”

At the moment, Felix didn’t know which faction Monica Norton belonged to or her objective for getting close to him. Still, he was certain there was something about her. As he reclined on the sofa, he tilted his head just slightly and looked up at Wildianu. “You’re probably wondering why I made her accountant despite all that, right?”

“…Yes, sir. You also noticed former accountant Aaron O’Brien’s misdeeds from the beginning, didn’t you?”

Felix had let the boy do as he pleased for a year, since just one or two times wouldn’t have warranted severe punishment. He had to be sure he could drive Aaron O’Brien from the academy.

“And after you’d finally managed to have him expelled…why did you make her his successor?”

Felix didn’t answer his servant’s question immediately. Instead, he reached for the chessboard he’d left out on the low table. He plucked a white pawn from the board and let it roll around in his palm. “It’s a game, Wil.”

“…A game, sir?”

“Yes. A game where I try to tame a little squirrel and get her to confess what she’s up to.” He set the pawn back onto the board and narrowed his eyes, enjoying himself. “You saw her, too. She had no interest in me at all. She seems to think ‘Old Man Sam’s Pigs’ is more impressive.”

“W-well, sir, that’s…”

Monica had been so engrossed in the documents that she hadn’t spared Felix a single glance. And then, when he’d closed the distance in the infirmary, she had gone pale as a sheet and fallen out of bed. She wasn’t trying to hide her embarrassment, either—no, she had felt genuine fear.

“But with the selection for the throne so close at hand, are such games truly—?”

“Wildianu,” interrupted Felix in a singsong voice; Wildianu straightened up. “My life only lasts until the next king is selected. Why not…let me have a little fun?”

He lifted his eyebrows just slightly and offered an ephemeral smile.

Wildianu, who knew Felix’s desire, politely bowed at the waist. “As you command, my lord.”

Felix nodded in satisfaction, then moved the white queen to the edge of the chessboard. “Still, though, sneaking out for some nighttime enjoyment yesterday was a mistake. To think Lady Norton would see me… I covered it up by saying it was a decoy operation, but still.”

The reason Felix had been outside the night before hadn’t actually been to uncover the one behind the assassination attempts. He’d slipped out to have some time away from the dorm—and hadn’t told Elliott about it.

“The little squirrel is surprisingly sharp-eyed… I should probably refrain from nighttime excursions for the time being.”

“Perhaps you should put an end to them altogether, sir.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to think of ways to lure in the little squirrel to pass the time instead.”

Felix chuckled, then flicked over the white pawn. It rolled across the board, then fell.

Very much like how Monica had rolled off the bed.