Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 2 - Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

The Silent Witch, or the Misspeaking Witch

Lindsey Pail, a teacher at Serendia Academy, sat in her seat in the faculty room and heaved a melancholic sigh.

Lindsey would be twenty-six this year, and she was a plain woman, about whom nothing particularly stood out. She wore her gray-flecked blond hair tied back without much thought to style.

Nevertheless, she was the teacher for ballroom dancing, and she did at least try to maintain an elegant posture at all times. Now, however, she was hunched over, drained.

About two weeks prior, Victor Thornlee—professor of fundamental magecraft—had been arrested. Apparently, he had been embezzling school funds to secretly research forbidden spells.

The incident had brought inspectors from the royal capital and the Mages Guild to Serendia Academy for several days in a row. The academy was under the direct control of Duke Clockford, an influential noble, and he seemed to have arranged things so that only a minimal investigation would be carried out—but things had still been very busy. Every time inspectors came around, Lindsey, a younger faculty member, would have to prepare all the relevant documents for submission.

…And now I’m even in charge of a classroom… She sighed to herself.

Lindsey hadn’t been at the academy all that long, and she’d only ever worked as an assistant homeroom teacher. Now, after Thornlee’s arrest, she was suddenly in charge of his class. To be honest, the pressure was giving her a stomachache.

As Lindsey continued to sigh, her shoulders drooping, the headmaster entered the faculty room from the hallway. Next to him was an old man holding a staff. The man was short, with thick white eyebrows and facial hair burying his eyes and mouth. His staff was decorative, and of a length only high mages were permitted to use.

All eyes turned toward the middle-aged headmaster, who plastered a wide smile on his face and began to speak.

“May I have everyone’s attention, please? This is William Macragan, our new teacher for fundamental magecraft!”

Macragan gave a single nod. From under his white mustache, he began to mumble. “Pleased to meet you. I look forward to working with you all.”

“Mr. Macragan is a high mage known as the Waterbite Mage—and formerly a professor emeritus from Minerva’s, the highest institution for aspiring mages in the kingdom! He was even responsible for teaching both the Barrier Mage and the Silent Witch before they joined the ranks of the Seven Sages!”

The headmaster waved his arms in all directions as he sung the man’s praises. Macragan’s next words, however, seemed somehow absent-minded.

“Being a professor emeritus is no fun. What I really love is teaching… I hope to meet plenty of lively students here.”

On the first day after the weekend, Monica’s steps were just a little bit lighter as she headed to the student council room after class. After all, she had done a better job than ever at braiding her hair this time. It must have been thanks to the comb she’d picked out with Lana and bought the day before.

She let out a breathy chuckle as she recalled the flavor of the roasted chestnuts she’d eaten in the carriage with Lana. She was still laughing as she opened the door to the student council room.

Inside, a short young man with brown hair was organizing some documents. This was Neil Clay Maywood, the general affairs officer and a second-year in the advanced course like Monica.

When he noticed her, he looked up from his papers. “Hello, Lady Norton.”

“H-hello. Um, I’ll help!”

Neil smiled and thanked her. He had a very nice smile. He was the only other second-year on the student council and had a friendly personality. As such, he was someone Monica, who had extreme social anxiety, found relatively easy to talk to… Actually, it was more that the other council members were just particularly eccentric.

The other members included Bridget Greyham, one of the secretaries, who had opposed Monica becoming the student accountant. Since Monica had been appointed, Bridget had barely said two words to her.

Elliott Howard, the other secretary, took on a seemingly friendly attitude, but his stare was always cold when he looked at Monica, and everything he said to her was barbed with thorns. He clearly didn’t think a commoner like Monica should even be at this academy.

Cyril Ashley, the vice president, never made mention of Monica’s origins. He was also polite when teaching her the job. If she was being honest, he was the next easiest to talk to after Neil. Unfortunately, Cyril was rather devoted to the president and came down hard on her if he detected any rudeness.

To top it all off, said president was the kingdom’s second prince, Felix Arc Ridill. He was the one who had appointed Monica as accountant—and the one she’d been tasked to protect. He seemed to enjoy teasing her.

Monica’s daily life now basically consisted of Felix teasing her, her panicking, Cyril scolding her for improper behavior, and Elliott and Bridget glaring at her coldly.

But today, I’ll take the teasing with confidence! …Well, that’s impossible, but if I can just not act suspiciously… Yeah…

Setting the bar low for herself, Monica glanced over the papers in front of her. The documents contained lists from contractors being used for the school festival. Each list had the company’s seal next to their name.

Naturally, the contractors moving in and out of Serendia Academy had been carefully selected from first-rate businesses. The school also checked all incoming carriages for the appropriate seal to prevent anyone suspicious from entering the campus. Monica’s heart fluttered as she stared at the seals on the documents—she enjoyed looking at precise diagrams and designs.

Next to her, Neil—who was organizing the documents—said in a relaxed tone, “Come to think of it, tomorrow is the day we observe elective classes. Have you already decided which ones you’ll choose?”

“Huh?! Oh, um, no… Not yet.”

Serendia Academy had an elective system alongside its normal classes. Students chose whichever two classes they liked from a pool of more than twenty. Because of how much variety there was, Monica hadn’t been able to make a decision yet. She would have liked to take advanced math courses, but Serendia Academy didn’t put much emphasis on mathematics and only offered basic courses.

“Um… What sort of classes are, um, popular?” asked Monica, hoping for some ideas.

Neil put his finger to his chin and thought for a moment, his round eyes rolling up and to the side. “For boys, horseback riding and swordsmanship are pretty popular,” he said. “For girls, embroidery and poetry, I think… Music is popular with both—it’s a sign of refinement, after all.”

Neil’s suggestions were all things Monica had never had anything to do with. She could manage to sew a few stitches, but she wasn’t that particular about her clothing, so whenever something ripped, she’d just sew it back together quickly, and that was enough for her. She’d never even considered trying embroidery.

Now I’m really not sure, thought Monica, at her wit’s end. Just then, she heard the door open and turned to see the rest of the council members filing in.

“Hey, there. What are the two of you chatting about?”

It was the president, Felix, who’d cheerfully addressed Neil and Monica.

Monica unconsciously looked down and began to fidget, so Neil answered for her. “We were talking about elective choices. Tomorrow’s the observation tour.”

“I see. Has Lady Norton decided what she’s taking?”

“Hwah?!” exclaimed Monica, unprepared for the sudden question. As expected, Cyril glared at her. She withered under his gaze, her own eyes drifting from side to side as she muttered, “U-um, I still, um, haven’t…decided.”

Someone snorted derisively—it was Elliott. He narrowed his drooping eyes and gave a dramatic shrug. “For nobles, knowing an art is a sign of refinement. At the very least, you must be able to play a musical instrument. Lady Norton, do you have any such experience?”

“…N-no,” said Monica, hanging her head.

Elliott’s grin deepened. He purposefully shifted his gaze to Bridget. “Speaking of musical instruments, Lady Bridget is quite skilled at piano, isn’t she?”

Bridget came from an excellent family, she was beautiful, and she had amazing grades. She was the perfect noble lady, completely above criticism.

By comparing her to Bridget, Elliot was mocking Monica’s lack of accomplishment. “Hey, Lady Bridget. Will you be taking a music class?”

“No. This year I’ll be taking linguistics and geography,” answered Bridget flatly, starting work on a pile of documents.

Elliott’s eyebrows rose slightly—he seemed surprised. “Huh. You’re so talented, it kind of seems like a waste… Oh, but there is someone here with no understanding of art…isn’t there, Cyril?” he said, grinning at the vice president.

Cyril was clearly enraged as he glared at Elliott. “I’ll be taking advanced practical magecraft this year, obviously. Magecraft is just as refined a skill for nobles as any of those other things.”

They glared at each other, one with no knowledge of art and the other with no knowledge of magecraft. The air in the room grew heavy.

The situation seemed ready to explode any moment, and Monica and Neil, both timid by nature, went pale. Finally Felix, sitting at his desk with his chin in his hand, mumbled to himself, “But Cyril’s so good at singing, he should take choir.”

Cyril’s eyes popped wide open at the prince’s remark. The color began to drain from his face. “Sir, when…when did you—?”

“You sing when you’re by yourself in the reference room sometimes, don’t you? I’ve always been struck by how good you are.”

At that, Cyril ceased to look pale and instead went red up to his ears. He bowed deeply to Felix. “…I am so, so terribly sorry for sullying your ears.”

Cyril seemed sincerely ashamed, but Felix moved his chin to rest on his folded hands and smiled mischievously. “Won’t you let me hear it properly sometime?”

“No, of course not! My singing is nowhere near skilled enough to perform for someone like you!” Cyril shook his head vehemently. “I’m going to work on these documents now,” he said, fleeing into the reference room.

Chuckling, Felix looked at Elliott. “And, Elliot, you’re pretty talented with the violin yourself, aren’t you? I’d love to hear you and Cyril perform together.”

“…Please, give me a break.” Elliott, too, seemed to have had the edge taken off his malice. He moved to his seat and started working.

That seemed to be the end of the conversation. Can I get back to work now…? wondered Monica, turning back to the desk—only for Felix to address her this time.

“Lady Norton, if you haven’t decided on what classes to take, why not try something related to magecraft?”

“Hwah?!” exclaimed Monica. It wasn’t hot, but her whole body had broken out in a sweat. “Um, b-but why would…you suggest that…?”

“Magecraft and mathematics have a lot in common. And you’re good at math, right?”

Felix was right. Magecraft and math had a lot in common. That was why Monica—who was talented at math—had learned to cast spells without chanting and why she’d become one of the Seven Sages.

If she had been a normal mage, she could have taken a magecraft course while keeping her identity a secret. However, Monica had one fatal flaw: She couldn’t chant in front of others. She couldn’t cast spells normally—unchanted magecraft was all she could do. And as soon as she used it, her identity would be revealed. Monica was the only one in the world with such a talent.

The Silent Witch, one of the top mages in the kingdom, continued to sweat as she racked her brain. What’s the right thing to say at times like this? I absolutely cannot take a magecraft course! But if I reject it too firmly, he’ll just get suspicious…

At that moment, she recalled the words of her silver-tongued colleague, the Barrier Mage Louis Miller.

“You don’t need to say yes to every troubling suggestion. You can say something like, That’s a good idea; I’ll let you know, and just never give a definite reply.”

That’s it! thought Monica, clenching a fist. She could just say she’d consider the magecraft class and leave it at that.

“Actually, Lady Norton,” continued Felix, “I’ll be one of the guides for the observation tour tomorrow. I could show you around if you’d like.”

“Yes! That’s a good idea. I’ll let you know!”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she got the feeling she’d committed a grave error.

Felix smiled. “Oh. You think it’s a good idea, then? I’m happy to hear it.”

“Yes, sir! ……………………………………………………Huh?”

Felix’s smile was so beautiful, it would steal the hearts of most noble young women. But now that she’d realized her misstep, Monica was no longer paying attention to any of that.

Her mission was to guard Felix. But Louis hadn’t told her to stick by his side at all hours of the day. Just getting into the student council with him was a miraculous feat. If she was in unnecessary contact with him elsewhere, that would only increase the danger of her identity coming to light.

Monica frantically waved her hands. “Um, I, that’s not… I didn’t mean it about that, um, I meant it about…the classes…”

“I’ll pick you up from your classroom tomorrow, then,” continued Felix.

Faced with his gorgeous smile, she became unable to respond. Her head was blank—save for the voice of her mean-spirited colleague laughing wickedly at her.

Oh, what’s this, my fellow Sage? From today forward, should you not change your title from the Silent Witch to the Misspeaking Witch?

She had no response for the voice in her head, either. The Misspeaking Witch was at her wit’s end.