Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 4.5 - Chapter 1.1

Case 1 - The Black Cat Detectives's Stray Reasoning - The Delinquents' Secret Book-Reading Mission-

Felix Arc Ridill, second prince of the Kingdom of Ridill, was seated on the sofa in his room in the Serendia Academy boys’ dorm, reading through a pile of documents.

Ninety percent of them related to the festival the school had held two days prior. There had been a few mishaps, such as the accident during the play, but for the most part, the students, faculty, and guests were all satisfied.

Felix had been able to form connections with leading figures from both inside and outside the kingdom who had been invited as guests. His grandfather, Duke Clockford, had apparently given him a passing grade as well.

Of course, even now that it was over, there was still plenty to do—supervising the cleanup, taking care of any lingering issues, reading through thank-you letters, and reviewing expenditures, among other things.

No classes were held at the academy for two days after the festival. During that time, Felix and the rest of the student council had come to school and busily worked on the remaining festival duties. It was now the night of the second day; starting the next morning, classes would be held as usual. Unfortunately, the prince still had a mountain of paperwork to look through before that.

The thank-you letters should be safe in Elliott’s and Bridget’s capable hands, he thought. The council’s two secretaries were well-connected in high society and skilled at dealing with such people. They had been the ones to receive guests on the day of the festival and had composed the invitations and thank-you notes as well.

Elliott had beautiful, showy handwriting, and Bridget was fluent in foreign languages and could handle the guests from abroad. As Felix checked each of the thank-you letters they had written, he could tell they had done an excellent job, working in references to conversations they’d had at the festival as well as topics related to each guest’s domain.

Felix then looked over the next batch of documents. Cyril already put together all the reports from the club presidents and department heads, I see. He never slows down.

Every year, a few people in charge were late with their reports. Cyril had laid the groundwork in advance, though, and even summarized the information so it would be easy for Felix to review. This was something only Cyril could have managed. The club presidents and department heads were a haughty group, but he had earned their trust.

Neil, the general affairs officer, had written up detailed summaries of any remaining issues, complete with a list. Neil, the son of a baron, was often thought to be too low-ranking for the student council, but as a member of the Lineage of the Mediators, he was skilled in management and negotiations. Very skilled, in fact, and everyone knew it. He was usually the one to quickly notice small details the rest of them had missed.

It’s always so helpful having him around. Maybe it would be best to start preparations for his takeover as the next student council president.

Filing that thought away for future consideration, Felix picked up the next set of documents. These were accounting reports, and they were absolutely packed with tiny letters and numbers.

“…Wow.”

He hadn’t intended to make a sound, but this was far more work than could have been done in two days.

The submission deadline had been two weeks after the festival, and he knew he’d said as much. But the drafter herself must have become gleefully absorbed in the calculations and finished the whole thing already.

The student council’s accountant, Monica Norton, was extremely talented at math and very partial to numbers. She had been the first to ever compliment his body on its adherence to the golden ratio, after all, and she would start chanting equations like prayers whenever she was nervous.

She was an oddball, always much livelier when reviewing accounting reports than when she was chatting with him.

It would be a waste to let her talents go unused.

He wished he could help her, since Count Kerbeck and his daughter both treated her so coldly, but the Kerbecks were a very prominent noble family in the east. Their military strength was second to none in the kingdom, and even a member of the royal family like Felix couldn’t easily intervene in their affairs.

I wonder if I can negotiate with his daughter…with Lady Isabelle Norton.

Plenty of people at the academy wanted her as an ally, and Felix was no exception. For the moment, she hadn’t backed either prince, deftly maintaining a neutral position.

I feel like I could engage her with talk of our shared personal interest, but…

Their shared personal interest—as he thought of it, he heaved a sigh. He’d been so busy with festival work lately that he hadn’t had any downtime to enjoy his hobbies. Ever since the night he and Monica had stayed in Madam Cassandra’s establishment in the town of Corlapton, he hadn’t read any books of the sort he enjoyed.

Maybe I’ll read a little before bed, once I’m finished with all this, he thought, picking up the last few documents to check through.

The final batch wasn’t related to the festival. Instead, it was a communication about a famous library in Ridill that would be closing down and donating part of its collection to Serendia Academy.

Felix scanned the list of donations, not expecting much. But then he sucked in his breath and opened his eyes wide.

“Wil! Wil! Wildianu! Emergency!”

In response to his cries, a white lizard poked its little head out of his shirt pocket. The high water spirit looked up at him with faint-blue eyes and asked stiffly, “What is it, Master?”

Felix motioned for Wildianu to climb onto the back of his hand; the spirit did so, preparing for the worst.

The prince traced his finger over the name of one of the books in the list. “One of these donations… It was written by the Silent Witch. By Lady Everett!”

“……”

The white lizard looked at the prince like he wanted to say something but remained silent.

Felix was excited, and his cheeks flushed a rosy red as he prattled on. “And it’s the thesis where she talks about quick-chanting, even though she doesn’t need to chant at all! She has such a depth of knowledge when it comes to magecraft formulae. She even famously created a few new ones herself. In this book, she writes about how to shorten one of the formulae she proposed. As a fan of the Silent Witch, I must read it. Don’t you agree, Wildianu?”

“Master… Well, but it’s a book on magecraft, and you…”

At the spirit’s unspoken implication, Felix lowered his brows slightly and formed a sad smile. “Yes, I know. If I borrow it, there will be a record.”

Felix knew that his grandfather, Duke Clockford, regularly checked what books he borrowed from the library. The prince was forbidden to study magecraft, so he couldn’t borrow any books on the subject from the school—if he did, the duke would know.

As long as he was under the man’s authority, he didn’t even have the freedom to choose what he read.

…But even so, I want to read it.

Right here, at this school, within easy reach, was a book written by the one he adored. He thought about standing in the aisle at the library to read it, but it would be extremely bad if anyone saw him.

Could I have Wildianu keep watch while I read? Then he could fool anyone who showed up with an illusion… No, that won’t work.

The second library where the book was stored also held several grimoires. Unlike the book in question, which explained ways to use magecraft and was essentially a textbook, grimoires were a type of magical item, imbued with mana of their own. Because of their presence, the library had a barrier to prevent any interference from spirits. As long as that barrier existed, Wildianu couldn’t go near the second library.

As Felix was racking his brain over how he might read this book penned by his idol, a certain girl came to mind.

“That’s it! I’ll ask her for help.”

“Her?” asked Wildianu dubiously.

Felix shot him a conspiratorial wink. “A delinquent friend of mine.”

Monica awoke to the feeling of soft, squishy paws pushing on her cheeks.

She lifted her heavy eyelids to see her attic room’s familiar ceiling—and a golden-eyed black cat looking down at her. The cat was her familiar, Nero.

He pressed a front paw against her forehead and said excitedly, “‘And the culprit…is you!’”

“…What did I do?” asked Monica as she squirmed out of bed.

Ryn, a beautiful woman in a maid outfit, was waiting to one side and bowed to her. “Lady Silent Witch,” said the spirit turned maid with the kind of casual tone you’d use to tell someone good morning. “It seems you were the culprit all along.”

“Um, so what’s my crime?” Monica asked, confused.

Ryn held up a book. The title on the cover read The Casebook of Famed Detective Calvin Alcock. “This is a detective novel. It’s very popular right now.”

So that was it. Nero and Ryn were obsessed with this novel—so obsessed they had pulled Monica into their little detective game right as she woke up.

“Do you have any idea how crazy awesome detectives are?!” asked Nero. “They’re way smarter than anyone else, and they can solve even the hardest cases in a flash!”

“Oh…”

The cat seemed to have a very romantic notion of what a detective was, but in Monica’s experience, such people were simply information brokers. They did things like spy on potentially adulterous partners or search for lost pet cats—private investigators, essentially. But it seemed the character, Calvin Alcock, in this detective novel, outwitted even the military police to solve cases with drama and flair.

“So this murder happens at a rich guy’s mansion,” Nero continued. “And the victim is pierced through the heart in a totally sealed-off room. They can’t find the murder weapon anywhere!”

Her familiar launched into a fervent explanation of the vanished weapon and the sealed room. As Monica sluggishly got changed, she commented disinterestedly, “Couldn’t someone have triggered a wind arrow spell remotely?”

“There were no mages among the suspects.”

“The culprit could have escaped using flight magecraft.”

“Mages aren’t part of the story!”

“Then someone could have used a magical item—”

“There weren’t any of those, either!”

“Okay, then my guess would be a spirit—”

“The culprit was human,” Nero insisted. “And the trick he came up with was incredible. I was totally shocked!”

But before the cat could explain, Ryn quickly scooped him up. “Sir Black Cat, you mustn’t. Revealing a mystery novel’s trick robs those who haven’t read it of their enjoyment.”

“Oh yeah. You’re right.” Nero put his front paws over his mouth.

Monica didn’t care about mystery novels, and she had no plans to read any in the future, so she didn’t care if Nero spoiled the trick. “If the culprit couldn’t use magecraft, they could have just hired someone who could,” she pointed out as she put her arms through the sleeves of her bolero.

Nero looked at her in exasperation. “Look… What matters in mystery novels is that there’s a hidden ruse.”

“But isn’t that kind of illogical? The grander and more intricate the trick, the more illogical it seems…”

“Illogical, huh…?” Monica’s familiar shot a glance at her desk as if he had something to say.

Monica ignored him and continued getting ready. She was currently doing her hair. The festival cleanup period was over, so classes were beginning again as normal. She couldn’t take her time.

“I’m going to draw some water. I’ll be right back,” she said to Nero and Ryn, opening the door to the stairs.

After Monica left the attic room, Nero and Ryn exchanged glances.

“That’s illogical, right?” asked Nero.

“Yes, it is,” replied Ryn.

In the mystery novel The Casebook of Famed Detective Calvin Alcock, the detective said this: “Never overlook anything odd in the course of your daily life, no matter how trivial. The culprit’s true motives always lie hidden within the illogical.”

Nero deftly jumped onto the desk. Two things had changed about this attic room since the school festival. One was the white rose placed in a vase on the desk.

“I have seen this rose before,” noted Ryn. “The Lady Silent Witch wore it during the school festival.”

“Oh, right. And this ribbon was tied to it.”

The de-thorned white rose had a blue ribbon affixed to its stem. After bringing it back on the day of the festival, Monica had put it into a glass vase. The whole reason she was going to draw water was to change its contents.

As a rule, water produced with magecraft contained mana, making it unsuited for drinking or eating. The same went for watering plants. Monica didn’t mind drinking a little, though, and would create her own water to brew coffee.

But now she was going out to draw water specifically for this one rose.

As far as Nero knew, the girl had never particularly enjoyed arranging cut flowers in vases or taking care of them. He’d once picked flowers for her on a whim, but she hadn’t admired or appreciated them. Instead, she’d hung them up near the front door to make use of the herbs’ bug-repelling properties. If she was displaying a rose in her room like this, something had to be going on.

That wasn’t the only thing that was new, either. Near the window, several white flowers had been hung using hemp twine.

“What do you call these flowers?” asked Nero. “I may be amazing, but I don’t know the names of many flowers.”

“I am not sure, either, but I believe they are wildflowers, rather than ones raised in a flower bed.”

Ryn was right—they were plain wildflowers. Though they were all white, they had different shapes. Some had petals growing in a radial pattern, while others were bell-shaped. Monica had picked them during the two days the council had spent cleaning up after the festival.

Nero had asked why she was hanging them up like that, and she’d told him she was drying them out.

“At first, I figured she was hanging them up to ward off bugs. But they don’t have the right smell for that.”

“I agree,” said Ryn. “Especially since winter is approaching, and there aren’t many insects around. I find it difficult to believe that’s her reason for hanging them up.”

After the school festival, Monica had carefully placed the white rose in a vase and hung white flowers by the window to dry. It wasn’t like her. It was illogical. What did it all mean?

“I smell a case,” said Ryn.

“Yep. Same here.”

They knew she’d tell them if they asked, but they wanted to play detective, and for that, they needed a case.

Nero deftly folded his front legs and grinned. “And I suppose that means we need a detective.”

“Would you care to have a talented head maid as your assistant, Lord Detective?”

“The black cat detective and his head maid assistant. I like that. Sounds like a crazy-strong combo.”

They nodded to each other, opened the window, and headed out together.

When Monica returned a few minutes later with the water, she was confused by the cat and spirit’s sudden disappearance. Telling herself they must have gone for a walk, she changed out the white rose’s water.

The first class after the two-day break was an elective. Monica had chosen chess and horseback riding, and this class was the latter. Clad in her riding uniform, which she hadn’t worn in a while, Monica practiced her form atop the horse, with Felix supporting her from behind as usual.

“I’m surprised,” he said, sounding impressed. “You’ve gotten a lot better.”

The corners of Monica’s lips tingled and squirmed in happiness. She couldn’t tell whether she’d genuinely improved, but she was no longer as scared of being up so high. I’m glad I practiced flight magecraft.

Recently, Monica had been spending her free time atop a broom, practicing her flying. She still had a long way to go in terms of stability, but it seemed to have honed her sense of balance a little bit.

“You’ve been practicing in secret, haven’t you?”

“…Um, well, I suppose I have,” she answered with a smile.

Felix reached around from behind and put his hand on hers as she gripped the reins of her horse. “In that case, why don’t we try a little trot?”

“Oof… U-ummm… Okay!”

She wanted to say that she was still too scared to run, but she swallowed the words. There were many things, flight magecraft and dancing included, that required one to learn by doing. She couldn’t keep walking her horse around forever.

Felix gave the animal’s flanks a light kick to set it into a slow trot, then headed for the advanced course.

W-wait! We’re going that way?! Monica had assumed they would be trotting around the basic course for beginners. Her face began to grow pale as she focused on maintaining her balance.

The horse quickly proceeded deeper into the woods. The last time she’d gone on this course, there had still been red and yellow leaves on the trees. Now, though, they’d mostly fallen off, heralding the arrival of winter.

It doesn’t look like many flowers are blooming around here… She’d been hoping to pick any she found of a good size, but she kept that thought to herself.

Eventually, Felix brought the horse to a stop along the course. Then he turned it toward a side path—one Monica remembered. It’s his secret walking route…, she thought.

This wasn’t an official course, and given how tight the path was, traversing it on horseback was difficult.

As Felix slowly guided the horse at a walking pace, Monica asked, “Are you, um, going to watch a magic battle again?”

“Well, that, and…I actually had something to ask of you. I—”

Before he could finish, they heard a loud blast from deeper in the woods. It was the sound of flame-aspected magecraft. Apparently, a battle had already begun.

Calming the spooked horse, Felix moved them to a spot where they could view the action. Farther into the woods, there was a slightly more open area. There, a barrier was set up for the purpose of conducting magic battles. Magecraft attacks couldn’t hurt those inside it; instead, they drained the target’s mana.

“Cyril Ashley! Today’s the day I finally defeat you!”

The cry came from a tall male student with short blond hair. He’d been challenging Cyril the last time they came to watch, too. He was a third-year student in the advanced course named Byron Garrett, and he was also the president of the magic battle club.

Byron chanted rapidly. Monica couldn’t make out the whole incantation, but with how short it was, she could tell it was a quick-chant. The boy swung one arm forward, and a fiery spear appeared in the air before flying straight at Cyril.

The aim was off, though. Cyril didn’t even have to avoid it; the spear struck a nearby tree and dissipated.

Cyril’s opponent doesn’t seem very used to quick-chanting, thought Monica. The third and fifth clauses of his formula were wrong, causing a decrease in the mana’s density and accuracy.

Still, the boy continued awkwardly quick-chanting, this time creating about ten flaming bolts and sending them after Cyril. While these packed less of a punch, the quantity ensured that a few of them would hit their target. Before they could, though, Cyril created a wall of ice to block them.

Then, maintaining the ice wall, he knelt down and touched the ground. From his finger sprouted slender, ivy-like stalks of ice that traveled over the earth, reaching for Byron—who didn’t notice them.

As Byron desperately continued his quick-chanting, the tendrils of ivy reached his feet and touched the tip of his shoes. Immediately, they expanded in size and froze his foot solid.

By the time his opponent noticed what had happened to his legs, Cyril had already cast his next spell. This time, a rain of ice arrows shot down from above. These were also the result of quick-chanting, but they were far more precise.

Lord Cyril has a high mana capacity, as well as solid control… And if he can use quick-chanting without issue, then he must have a good understanding of magical formulae. He could easily work his way up to the level of a high mage if he learned to use spells beyond ice magecraft.

As Monica mulled this over, Felix started their horse at a slow walk. “Cyril’s improved again,” he noted.

“Um, yes. It’s amazing.”

“It is,” replied Felix quietly.

His voice was gentle and kind, but Monica heard a twinge of envy in it. He really does…want to study magecraft, she thought.

Why would that be forbidden to him? Was it a problem with his constitution? Perhaps his mana levels were extremely low, for example.

“Oh, ummm,” she said. “Sir, you said, well, that you had a request for me…”

“That’s right.”

Felix brought the horse to a stop a short distance from the barrier enclosing the magic battle.

“Monica,” he whispered into her ear.

She nearly jumped out of her skin. His hand was on hers where she held the reins, and she could feel it squeezing her fingers.

“I need your help, as a fellow delinquent.”

Monica slowly turned around, mouthing the word Ike. When she looked up at him, she saw how serious he looked—he seemed almost desperate.

Monica gulped and glanced around. Neither Nero nor Ryn should be anywhere near them. After making sure, she began to speak. “What was…your, um, request…?”

“Do you know of the Haymes-Nalia Library?”

Without meaning to, Monica widened her eyes at the unexpected name. Back when she’d first become a Sage, Louis had taken her to the famous library—one of the most historied in the kingdom—to do some work sealing grimoires.

We found the first Witch of Thorns’s grimoire and ended up in quite a situation…, she reflected, nodding to Felix. “Um, the Haymes…? I’ve, uh… I’ve heard of it, at least.”

“They closed down a little while back,” he explained. “Part of their collection is being donated to the Serendia Academy library. And one of the books…”

His grip tightened. His voice was passionate and miserable as he whispered to her.

“One of them is an essay by the Silent Witch.”

Monica’s throat made an odd, guttural noise. She didn’t fall off the horse in shock, though, which she figured was worthy of praise. “So ummm… You want me to…”

“The library keeps a record of who borrows what, so I can’t read any books on magecraft…”

She watched him as his face took on a rosy, fervid hue, his expression entranced, as though he were talking about someone he loved.

“But I must… I must read it. If I’m to do so without leaving my name in the record, though, I’ll have to read it right there in the library. Secretly—so nobody finds out.”

“So then, ummm…”

“While I’m reading it, I want you to be my lookout.”

It had already been several months since Monica had been entrusted with the second prince’s protection. How could she ever have imagined he himself would ask her to keep watch while he secretly read a book in the library?

“Um, what if I just borrowed it, and uh, lent it to you? Would that…?”

Sub-lending a book to someone was frowned upon, but the situation being what it was… It would be a lot less risky than someone catching him in the act, right?

But Felix shook his head bitterly. “I considered that, too, but you haven’t completed a fundamental magecraft class, right? If you borrowed it, someone might suspect something.”

He was right about that. Monica was hiding her identity as one of the Seven Sages, so she didn’t want to check out any magecraft books and risk leaving a record. If someone was to press her on why she’d done so, she wouldn’t know what to say.

I didn’t know the Haymes had one of my essays… I wonder which one it is. Some of them would take a long time to read…, she thought, groaning inwardly. “Ummm, magecraft books are…well, kind of dense, right? Will you…will you be able to read the whole thing while standing there?”

“I’m confident in my speed-reading and memorization abilities.”

“……”

Monica wished the prince would put his remarkable talents to use doing something else.

But…he wants to read it that badly, huh…? If Ike, Monica’s one-and-only delinquent companion, was this desperate, then she wanted to help.

Squeezing the reins, she looked up at Felix. “When, um, do you want to do it?”

At that moment, Monica was sure she saw his face light up.

“They’ll be putting the donated books on the shelves after class today. Fortunately, we don’t have a student council meeting, so… Will you help me?”

She nodded. Felix’s eyebrows rose in a mixture of relief and glee. “Thank you.”

“Gah! Damn that Cyril Ashley! I can’t believe I lost again!”

During lunch break, Byron Garrett, president of the magic-battle club, visited the magic history clubroom to complain. As he lamented his defeat and scratched at his short blond hair, the chubby, black-haired boy sitting across from him busily munched on some baked goods. This was the magic history club’s president, Conrad Askam.

While Byron and Conrad were very different—one preferring magic combat and the other historical research—they were both learning magecraft. That had brought them together during their time in the intermediate course, where they’d become friends. They would often go to each other’s clubroom to chat.

“This makes twenty-seven losses out of twenty-seven matches since the beginning of the year,” noted Conrad.

“Ugh… He humiliated me! Damn you, Cyril Ashley… Not even of noble birth, but appointed to the student council by the prince on account of his incredible work ethic… He’s just…he’s just…!” Byron pounded his tightly squeezed fists against the desk and shouted from the pit of his stomach, “He’s a real-life paragon!”

Conrad watched his friend out of the corner of his eye as he leisurely sipped some tea. His gaze was on something far in the distance. “You really like the guy, huh?”

“I do not like him! But he sets an excellent example for the rest of us! I just think I should learn from him!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t you remember the tragedy of our first meeting, Conrad?!” Byron hit the desk a couple more times to stress his point.

Conrad laughed breathily, like his voice was hoarse. “Yes, yes, it was quite the tragedy. You mistook him for a girl, ogled him, tried to flirt with him—and it turned out he was a boy. Heh-heh-heh.”

Back when he was in the intermediate course, a transfer student Byron hadn’t seen before—Cyril Ashley—had come to one of his electives.

At the time, Cyril was much shorter, and when he sat down, he had the air of a delicate young girl. Plus, since Byron was in a different grade, he hadn’t known Cyril’s first or last name. Since the new kid didn’t know right from left, Byron had decided to offer him guidance and spoke to him with pretty clear ulterior motives. But upon learning his target was a boy, Byron had fallen into a considerable fit of despair.

And the tragedy hadn’t stopped there, either.

After moving into the advanced course and getting engaged, Byron had accidentally overheard his fiancée talking about Cyril.

“My type? Well… You know. Like Lord Cyril Ashley, I suppose.”

A day later, Byron challenged Cyril to a duel—and quickly lost.

“Damn you, Cyril Ashley. Not only did you steal my heart, but my fiancée’s, too…” He pounded the desk again and yelled, “You thief! You first-love thief!”

At this point, Conrad’s laughter sounded more like strange, inhuman coughing. “Keh, keh-heh-heh… Bfft-heh… Things still aren’t going well between you and her, are they? Maybe you should spend more time chasing after your fiancée instead of the vice president.”

“I told you: I just want to beat him to a pulp! That will open her eyes!”

Conrad watched his friend as if gazing at a heartwarming scene, then stroked his chubby chin. “If you want your fiancée to pay more attention to you, shouldn’t you have given her a flower accessory during the school festival? I’m sure if you gave her a yellow rose with an orange ribbon as a gift…”

Byron knew about the custom of giving a rose ornament to a female student you wanted to dance with. But he kicked Conrad’s suggestion to the curb with a sniff. “I’ve no need of such customs!”

Many of the members of Byron Garrett’s family became knights or joined the Magic Corps. Perhaps that was why he had a hot temper and a tendency to obsess over manliness and honor.

“Giving her flowers?” he scoffed. “Weak. I didn’t have to do that to dance with her!”

“Right. And how did she react?”

“She treated me as coldly as ever. What of it?!”

It seemed to Byron that, unless he beat Cyril Ashley, his fiancée would never pay any attention to him. Desperate, he’d learned quick-chanting, but his precision left something to be desired. Whenever he did a quick-chant, his spells always came apart somewhere. At worst, they would dissipate before even reaching their target.

Magecraft was a skill only realized through vast and extensive calculations. Even for a single flame spear, you needed to derive its power, shape, speed, flight range, and duration, then work all that into the formula.

If he was being honest, Byron knew quick-chanting was still too much for him. But he wanted to win. He wanted to beat Cyril Ashley.

As he grumbled, Conrad leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Heh-heh… You may have zero wins against that first-love thief, but I have good news for you.”

“You do?”

Conrad gave another loud, breathy laugh as he smiled and nodded. “There are a number of books being donated to the library, and one of them…”

In order to solve the mystery of Monica’s sudden interest in flowers, the black cat detective, Nero, and his faithful assistant, Ryn, split up and conducted their own investigations. Once finished, they reunited at their secret base.

“I understand the term secret base tickles boyish fancies,” said Ryn.

“Well, I’m not a little boy or anything, but I totally get that. It’s pretty nice.”

Nero and Ryn’s “secret base” was a building more generally referred to as “the old dormitory.” It was located deep in the woods on the grounds of Serendia Academy and was quite a bit more cramped than the current dorms. The structure itself wasn’t that old, though; it still seemed perfectly usable.

However, the surrounding land had a very high concentration of mana, which had been deemed unsafe for humans. That had forced the school to abandon the place.

There were magical items that could absorb the excess mana from soil, but certain areas weren’t conducive to the process. The land near the old dorm must have been one such example.

Though people with low tolerances who lived for an extended period in such places could suffer from mana poisoning, spirits, for whom mana was basically food, found them most comfortable. Hence Ryn’s frequent visits to the old dorm. The wind spirit seemed to have made it into her own little hideaway.

Nero took a look around the building’s entrance hall and nodded, satisfied. “Yep, this is one good secret base.”

Despite being abandoned, it had clearly been constructed for the sons and daughters of nobles. The inside was expansive and comfortably decorated. Not bad, in the cat’s opinion. He’d have loved it even more if there were a few couches and easy chairs, but he couldn’t ask for that much. Instead, he—still in cat form—stood up on his hind legs and rested his body against the wall, folding his shorter front legs against his chest.

It was one of the awesome detective poses he’d come up with—leaning against a wall, arms folded. Now if only he had a pipe.

“All right, let’s swap information,” he said. “Give me your report, my loyal assistant.”

“I shall. I investigated the Lady Silent Witch’s desk.”

During the two days following the festival, Monica had constantly been in her attic room writing. Specifically, she’d been writing magical formulae in between her accounting work.

“In secret, I looked at the formula she has been working on for the past two days…”

“Great! What did you find out?”

“Nothing. Magical formulae are extremely difficult to understand.”

Unlike humans, who used mana by constructing magical formulae, spirits like Ryn manipulated it freely based on feeling. Therefore, Ryn hadn’t been able to grasp even a tiny bit of Monica’s work.

But Nero couldn’t exactly blame her. He didn’t understand a lick of magecraft, either.

“However,” she continued, “next to the magecraft formula were the words plant moisture content. The Lady Silent Witch said she was drying the flowers she hung by the window, so I believe the formula is for drying plants.”

Nero used his front paw to stroke his chin in thought. As they’d surmised, Monica was trying to do something with the white flowers she’d collected using magecraft.

“What sort of things did you investigate, Lord Detective?”

“Right! I decided to tail her.”

After a while, he’d grown tired of it, though. During Monica’s elective, he’d sneaked into the kitchen to snatch a few pieces of meat. He left that part out, of course. Still, he had to admit that bone-in meat fresh out of the oven was simply delectable. Chicken was always tasty, whether cooked in stew, fried, or left raw, but when the bone was still in there, man, it hit different.

Nero licked his lips; there was still a little grease on them. “And I overheard her talking with her classmate Lana during her afternoon break.”

He thought back to the conversation.

“Monica, you don’t have student council work today, right? We should have a tea party. I got ahold of some very good leaves.”

Lana had smiled as she made the proposal, but Monica had started playing with her fingers apologetically.

“I… I’m really sorry. After school, I have…I have something really important to do.”

A really important thing to do—naturally, this was news to both Nero and Ryn. “Suspicious, right?” said the cat.

“Suspicious, indeed,” replied the maid.

“We’ll need to keep a much closer eye on her.”

No one present thought to ask the very reasonable question: What happened to Monica’s mission of guarding the second prince?

The black cat detective and his maid assistant, both burning with a detective’s sense of duty, nodded to each other and immediately headed for the school building.

Once classes were over, Monica made her way to the library, fidgeting and worrying about others watching her. Obviously there was nothing she needed to worry about—she was an academy student, and she was just using the library. But the request she’d received made her nervous nonetheless.

At Serendia Academy, the library was housed in a separate building from both the intermediate and the advanced course classes. Each of the three structures were linked by covered walkways.

Felix was waiting for Monica in front of the passage leading out of the advanced course building.

“Hey there,” he said, waving casually.

“Um, h-helloph,” she stammered.

“Glad to see you… Let’s be going, shall we?”

As he looked toward the library building, Felix’s blue eyes seemed to somehow sparkle, and there was a bounce in his step.

It was time for their mission to begin.

Magecraft books were highly technical, so they were kept in a separate room from the general-use books. This library kept them up on the second story in Library 2, along with the grimoires. If anyone unfamiliar with magecraft was to go in or out of that room, it would be enough for someone to notice and remember.

The two of them would pretend to be on student council business, there to check if the donated books had been correctly stored and evaluate the librarians’ work. That would get them into Library 2, where they’d pretend to check over the list while getting closer to the shelves. And there, Felix would find the book he was after and stand around reading it for a while.

Monica’s job was to keep watch in the interim. If anyone came, she was to stall for time—by saying they were currently matching these shelves up to their list, for example—so that Felix could return the book and they could leave with nobody the wiser.

This is so much work just to stand there and read a book… And it’s one of my essays, too… Oogh…

She privately pressed a hand to her stomach as Felix said “Here’s the list” and passed her a piece of paper filled with the names of books. Naturally, it was the real thing. And judging by the handwriting, Felix had written it himself.

The prince is abusing his authority, using diversionary tactics, and secretly reading in the aisle…

From the intricacy of the plan, you’d think he was trying to steal the book for himself, not simply stand around reading it. The whole thing was almost pathetic.

Once inside the library building, Felix headed straight to the counter and greeted the student in charge. Apparently, he’d told them about the student council’s check in advance—he’d laid the groundwork perfectly.

“All right, let’s go check this list,” he said to Monica.

“R-right…”

Prompted by the prince, Monica took a step forward. But just then, she heard a voice from somewhere beside them.

“…Oh? Now here’s an unusual pairing.”

They looked in the voice’s direction and saw a black-haired noble girl standing there, holding a book to her chest. It was Claudia Ashley, the younger sister of the student council’s vice president, Cyril Ashley.

“H-hello,” said Monica weakly as the girl’s lapis lazuli eyes stared at her.

“Student council work?” she asked.

“Y-yes! We’re, checking, um, the newly donated books…!”

“Isn’t that the librarians’ job?”

Monica’s shoulders gave a surprised jolt, but Felix cut in immediately. “We had an incident in the past where a librarian didn’t put the donated books on the shelves and instead sold them in secret. We’re here as student council members to double-check and deter anyone from doing that again.”

“…That happened thirty-eight years ago,” muttered Claudia as if to herself. She was suspicious about why the prince would bring up such an ancient matter after all this time.

But something about Claudia’s attitude bothered Monica. From the moment she’d caught sight of them, she hadn’t spared one glance for Felix. She watched Monica and Monica alone, only responding to the prince’s words by muttering to herself.

Is…is it because she thinks I’m m-more likely to give us away? thought Monica, panicking.

Claudia brushed a strand of black hair off her cheek and behind her ear, then glanced around. “I see my brother isn’t here with you… Such a boring task would better suit him, I think.”

“I do boring jobs sometimes, too,” said Felix, smiling at her. The expression was one of familiarity and warmth; most people would have been impressed at how passionate he was about his work.

Claudia, however, didn’t even look at him, instead keeping her eyes on Monica as she once again muttered to herself. “Actually, I recall him saying that he didn’t have any student council work after classes today and so he would be practicing his magecraft… He implied nobody else on the council would have any work, either. How odd…”

If Cyril found out Felix was doing work in the library, he would immediately insist on helping. And then Felix wouldn’t be able to stand around and read. Now Monica started to really panic.

Felix, though, responded in a completely natural tone of voice. “Cyril did a lot to help with cleaning up after the festival. I wanted to give him the day off.”

“So you decided to drag around Monica instead,” came Claudia’s sharp reply.

The prince seemed unsure how to respond, though he kept smiling.

Monica didn’t know what to do. At this rate, they’d run out of time for Felix to read the essay.

I have to do something…!

She thought desperately about how to pull Claudia away from the prince. She thought and thought and thought, and eventually she managed to squeeze out a few words. “Lady Claudia! I, um, there’s, well, a book I really want to read, so… Ummm, you know a lot about the library, right?! Could you help me find it?”

“That’s the librarians’ job, isn’t it?”

“Oh…” Monica closed her mouth.

Claudia took Monica’s cheeks in her white-gloved hands. Then, bringing her face so close their noses almost touched, she smirked. Her next words came out in a whisper low enough the prince couldn’t hear.

“…I’m very interested, however, in what it is the prince wants to do while you’re buying time for him.”

She knows!

With Monica now struck speechless, Claudia stepped away, her skirt fluttering as she beckoned to the girl.

“…Come. You are a precious friend, so I will tell you where to find the book you wish to read.”

“Tha…thank… Thank youph!” she stammered, shooting Felix a look out of the corner of her eye, her mouth moving up and down without making a sound.

Now’s your chance! Go read that book!

Felix nodded slightly as though he understood. “I can finish checking by myself. You go borrow that book you wanted.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Claudia had secret designs to find a hiding spot and see what Felix was up to. It was Monica’s mission to stop her and buy enough time for the prince to read the essay. That’s what she told herself anyway, forgetting entirely about her original mission to protect him.

I have to figure out a way to distract Lady Claudia…!

As Monica frantically racked her brain, Claudia slipped her arm through Monica’s and whispered into her ear. “It will be so entertaining to see how long you can keep me occupied… Don’t you agree?”

Monica let out a frightened squeal.

…I’m sorry, Monica. And thank you.

Felix sent his silent gratitude as Claudia dragged Monica away, then hastened up to Library 2. Losing his lookout was a hard blow, but he was good at sensing when others were around. Not many people used the upstairs library, so he’d know right away if anyone approached.

I’d like nothing more than to lose myself in the text, but… That would be asking too much.

Monica was risking life and limb to buy him time. He couldn’t waste what few moments she’d stolen for him.

It seems Lady Claudia dislikes me quite a bit. Monica probably hadn’t realized that. The noble girl generally treated the prince like he wasn’t there, and whenever she replied to something he said, she’d look away and say it as if talking to herself.

Her behavior was incredibly rude considering he was royalty, but Felix didn’t intend to criticize her for it. Better not to make enemies of the Lineage of the Wise—said to be the ultimate knowledge keepers in the Kingdom of Ridill.

Felix climbed the stairs to one side of the first-floor hall, heading straight for Library 2. Unlike the first floor, which had a lot of books for casual reading, the second floor held mostly technical volumes, so it usually had few visitors.

But that day, there seemed to be an awful lot of students around.

The libraries were closed during the festival, so maybe everyone decided to come today instead, he thought as he rounded a corner.

That was when he saw it. Library 2, his destination—flooded with people.

“……”

Struck dumb, Felix stood there in the hallway as a pair of male students leaving the library greeted him.

One was a short, stout boy with black hair and round glasses. The other was tall and muscular with blond hair. It was Conrad Askam of the magic history research club and Byron Garrett of the magic-battle club, respectively.

“Ah, my finest greetings, President. How do you do?” said the black-haired Conrad with a breathy laugh. He was carrying several books at his chest.

Felix immediately scanned their titles. All of them were on his list.

The prince was rattled, but he didn’t let it show. “Come to borrow some of the donated books right away, have you?” he asked gently.

The tall Byron straightened up and answered, “Yes, that’s correct, Your Royal Highness. Do you know of the Silent Witch, sir? She’s one of the kingdom’s Seven Sages.”

Of course Felix knew of her. He was a huge fan. He wanted to read her essay so badly that he’d gotten Monica wrapped up in this huge stealth operation, just so he could read it in secret. That was why he was here, why he’d done all this.

He put on a classy smile. “Yes, I do know her. The heroine of our kingdom, famed slayer of the Black Dragon of Worgan.”

The Silent Witch was the youngest Sage in history. She almost never appeared in public, but about six months ago she’d slain the Black Dragon of Worgan, and her fame had skyrocketed.

But those studying magecraft had been paying her lots of attention even before that. The Silent Witch had been composing original magical formulae ever since her school days. She was a girl genius, responsible for overturning what everyone else considered common sense. Her research had single-handedly forced major rewrites in fundamental magecraft textbooks.

“Obviously, the Silent Witch is known for using unchanted magecraft,” continued Byron. “But she also wrote an essay about quick-chanting.”

“Did she?” Don’t tell me, thought Felix, looking at the books in Byron’s hands. Unfortunately, the boy’s arms were big and strong, hiding the authors’ names from sight.

“You see—er, sir—I’ve been struggling quite a bit with quick-chanting lately. So I borrowed the Silent Witch’s book as soon as I could! Now I’ll be able to defeat Cyril Ashley in our next magic battle for sure!”

“……”

The prince had to swallow the words he really wanted to say—How many weeks do you plan on borrowing it? Tell me when you bring it back; I’ll come straight here to read it. But perhaps he could at least find out when the return date was.

As Felix thought seriously about his next move, Conrad gave another low, breathy laugh and put a hand to his mouth. “It’s a good thing you borrowed it first, Lord Byron. After all, her books are beyond popular. How many others were on the waiting list? Ten?”

“Ten people on the waiting list…?” repeated Felix.

“And I’m sure the number will only increase,” added Conrad. “That’s how popular she is, sir.”

“…Well, that’s wonderful.”

It really was wonderful that everyone else held the Silent Witch’s abilities and achievements in such high esteem. As a fan, it made Felix happy.

…But he’d wanted to read it. Though he maintained his smile, disappointment hit him faster and harder than it had in a long time.

“Hey, there’s Monica!”

“She seems to be with a friend.”

On the sill of a high window on the library’s first floor sat a black cat and a small yellow bird. It went without saying that these were Nero and Ryn, currently tailing Monica.

After entering the library building with the second prince, Monica seemed to be searching for a book with Claudia Ashley.

Monica’s behavior, however, was suspicious in the extreme. She always acted strangely in crowded places, but right now the color had drained from her face, her gaze was wandering, and she kept moving her hands around for no reason.

Nero and Ryn both had good hearing, so they could make out the girls’ conversation from the window.

“So, Monica. What book did you want to borrow?”

“Ummm, well…”

“…There is a book you want to borrow, right?”

“Um, ummm… Yes! I wanted to borrow a book about plants. There’s something I’d like to make!”

“You want to make something?”

Monica nodded several times, then—embarrassed—fidgeted with her fingers and whispered something into Claudia’s ear. The two at the window couldn’t make out that part, of course. Exchanging glances, they went up to the roof.

“New intel. Monica wants to make something with plants,” said Nero, his tail waving back and forth as he thought things over.

The sudden gathering of flowers. The magical formula used to dry out plants. Monica’s own remark about wanting to make something. They were all connected. But what was the bigger picture? What was the truth?

“Whenever plants come up in detective novels,” he continued, “it’s only ever for one thing.”

“You’re quite right.”

The black cat and the small bird said in unison, “Poison.”

When plants played an important role in mystery novels, they were usually poisonous. It was quite a common weapon in the Famed Detective Calvin Alcock series.

“Calvin Alcock did say that drying out a plant strengthens its poison,” remarked Nero. “There can be no doubt. She must be drying them out to make poison.”

He figured she was looking for a book to help her extract even stronger poisons.

At Nero’s confident declaration, Ryn raised a yellow wing and said, “I have a question, Lord Detective.”

“What is it, my assistant?”

“Who do you think the Lady Silent Witch wishes to poison?”

If she was making poison, then naturally, she must want to use it on someone. But she could already put most enemies down with unchanted magecraft. Who would she need poison for?

One person sprang to mind.

“There can be only one possibility,” he said.

Claudia found the book Monica wanted to borrow, and as they were checking it out at the front desk, Felix returned from the second floor. He’d come back much faster than Monica had anticipated. Had he already finished reading the essay?

Choosing a moment when Claudia wasn’t looking, Monica trotted over to Felix and whispered, “Sir! Did you…? Um…”

Before she could say get to read it, Felix slowly shook his head and looked down at his feet.

“…Thirteen people are currently on the reservation list.”

“Huh?” Monica widened her eyes.

Felix looked back up at her with a decidedly frail smile. “I’m really happy the students at our school understand how great she is, at least.”

“……”

Apparently, his mission had failed. Monica hesitated, trying to think of something to say to him.

Before she could, Felix plucked the list out of Monica’s hands. “I’m sorry for dragging you along.”

“Um, what will you…?”

“Well, since I’ve already told the librarian I would, I’ll have to check the books on this list.”

Originally, it had been an excuse to stand in the aisle and read, but apparently Felix now intended to finish the task himself.

Monica’s brows lowered, and she stood there, flustered, until she felt a sudden weight on her shoulders. Claudia was hugging her from behind. The other girl’s smooth, straight black hair tickled Monica’s cheeks.

“Oh? Is your little scheme over with, then? …That’s too bad.”

“It…it wasn’t a scheme,” said Monica. “It was…it was just…”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t live up to your expectations, Lady Claudia,” said Felix, his usual kindness paired with a hint of sarcasm.

Claudia glanced at him, moving only her eyes. A moment later, she looked away again and said, as if to herself, “I suppose it was a little interesting to see someone get disappointed when he’s always so confident and sure everything is going his way.”

She then turned around and disappeared amid the shelves like a cat who had suddenly lost interest in them.

Released from the noble girl’s grasp, Monica looked up at the prince. “I’ll…I’ll help you.”

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you.”

“No! No, I’m…I’m a student council member, so…,” she said, sticking out her chest just a little.

Felix widened his eyes in surprise. Then his expression twisted into a smile. “Well, if you insist.”

“Yes, sir!”

Felix headed toward a bookcase containing items on the list, and Monica followed him. In silence, the two began to check the entries. Felix was once again wearing his usual confident, gentle, perfect smile. No trace of dejection remained on his face.

But when Monica remembered how disappointed he’d looked a minute earlier, she just couldn’t leave him alone. But what should I…? What am I supposed to say at times like these?

She couldn’t think of the proper words to cheer him up. In fact, she started to wonder if maybe she’d done something she shouldn’t have. Maybe he wanted to be alone with his disappointment. The sudden thought made her feel awkward.

Then Felix, standing next to her, looked up at the shelves and said, “I’m glad…you were here.”

“…Huh?”

“It’s too bad I couldn’t read the essay, but… I feel really lucky to have a friend who will listen when I talk about things I like.”

He looked at her. His composed expression had broken into a more mischievous one, but as he smiled, eyebrows lowered, he seemed a little lonely.

“And a friend who would help me in this silly little scheme of mine.”

“…I—”

“It’s more than a nonexistent ghost deserves.”

Monica fought down the urge to say “Ike” and squeezed the list in her hand. The fact that he liked the Silent Witch was enough to give her an ulcer. And yet she didn’t want to say anything that would push this kind, lonely young man away.

So instead, the awkward girl chose her words as best she could.

“I’m… Well, I’m a delinquent, so…”

“Yes?”

“The next time you have, um, a scheme… I’m sure I’ll help again.”

Abruptly, Felix laughed, straight from the heart. Monica was pulled in, and she started to chuckle, too.

The prince hid his mouth with a hand, but his eyes were still smiling. “That’s very reassuring. There are thirteen people on the waiting list… So we’ll just have to pray it goes back onto the shelf before I graduate.”

“Indeed.”

“By the way, what did you borrow?” he asked, looking at the book under her arm.

It was the one she’d had Claudia find for her earlier while attempting to buy time for the prince. “Oh, well, this is… I’d like to make——,” she answered, smiling.

Ever so slightly, Felix knit his eyebrows and pursed his lips. “…That isn’t fair.”

Monica began to panic. The prince hadn’t been able to read his essay, but she—despite being there only to help him—had gotten exactly what she was looking for. That had been a little mean, hadn’t it?

“I— I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I’m the only one who got to borrow a book…”

“No, I didn’t mean you.”

“…?”

Felix bent down and whispered into her ear. “I’ll return the favor sometime… You can look forward to it.”

Finished with her work in the library, Monica went back to her attic room with the book she’d borrowed.

Winter was close, so the sun would set early. And she had something she wanted to finish while it was still light out.

She climbed up the ladder to her room. But when she pushed up the door and went inside, Nero, in his black cat form, said something odd.

“Monica Everett, the Silent Witch, the culprit…is you!” he declared, pointing his front paw at her.

“…Are you still playing that game?” She slipped past the cat and set her things on the table.

Ryn was also waiting in a corner of the room in her maid form. “Lady Silent Witch, please allow me to explain.”

At the spirit’s formal tone, Monica unconsciously braced herself.

Ryn continued in a flat voice. “Lord Louis possesses a truly awful sense of taste and a strong stomach. Even if you gave him rotting meat or fish, he would cook it, put jam on it, and eat it.”

Why was she suddenly bringing up Louis? “Oh,” said Monica as she took down the hanging flowers and lined them up on her desk.

Ryn continued. “Lord Louis has been known to stubbornly keep going, thrashing about uncontrollably, even after consuming enough poison to paralyze a bear.”

“W-wow…”

“So I don’t believe poisoning him will be very effective.”

A flower fell from Monica’s hand. The conversation had taken quite a violent turn.

“…Poison him?” she repeated, at a loss. What were they talking about?

Nero jumped onto the desk and pointed to the row of flowers with his paw. “You’ve been gathering flowers and hanging them over there for the past few days, haven’t you? And today you borrowed a book about plants.”

“Um, yes…”

“And here’s the last piece of evidence!” Nero turned to Ryn, who took a sheaf of paper out of her apron and unfolded it without a word.

The pages detailed the magical formula Monica had been working on recently.

“This formula,” said Nero, “is for drying out plants, isn’t it?”

Monica nodded. “It is, but…”

Her familiar bobbed his head up and down, looking increasingly convinced. “So you’ve been drying out plants to extract poison. And you were trying to use it to kill your awful colleague, Loun-loun Lountatta!”

“Like I’ve said many times, it’s Mister Louis. Please try to remember.”

“Your motive is your grudge against him for forcing you to take this ridiculous job,” said Nero, ignoring her. Then, like a human might clap a friend on the shoulder, he used his front paw to pat Monica’s upper arm. “The evidence is all right here… Now confess, Monica!”

But there was no crime, she thought. What am I supposed to confess to? And what an awful claim, saying that she was plotting to kill someone with poison.

“Listen. This book…” She held up the volume she’d borrowed from the library and flipped to the page she was after. As Nero had said, the book was all about different ways to process plants. It most definitely wasn’t for making poison.

“I borrowed it to research how to dry flowers,” she explained. “That magical formula is for removing moisture from plants.”

Monica glanced at the book’s description of how to dry out flowers. She’d never once been interested in the topic, and she’d initially figured she could just remove the moisture and that would be that. But according to the book, leaving them in direct sunlight could change their color.

In other words, she shouldn’t dry them by the window, where the sun would hit them. She sighed with relief, glad she’d done a test run on ones she didn’t care about.

Now, let’s see… “To create beautiful dried flowers, it’s important to remove the moisture quickly while their color is still vivid.” …Right. In that case, I can probably make them look prettier by removing the moisture with magecraft instead of letting them dry naturally.

Monica lifted up one of the wildflowers she’d picked, then, without chanting, she cast a spell to remove its moisture. But she must have gone too far, because it turned brown, withered, and crumbled. She picked up another one, this time taking more care.

Nero and Ryn watched her, mystified. “Hey, Monica,” said Nero, “when you say dried flowers, you mean like dried meat, right? What do you want with stuff like that?”

“I don’t know about dried meat… But if I do this, I can preserve the flowers so they stay pretty for a while.”

Monica picked up the last flower and used the spell again. This time, she dried it perfectly, leaving its whiteness intact.

Good, she thought with a nod, picking up the white rose she had in the vase. With still greater focus and concentration, she very carefully removed its moisture.

The fresh, vibrant rose shrank somewhat as it dried, but almost all of its white coloring remained. When the stem shrank, it caused the blue ribbon to loosen, so—with careful motions—Monica retied it. Dried flowers tended to fall apart with the slightest impact.

Once she had the ribbon looking good, she put the rose in a glass jar with a large mouth and sealed it with a cork. Finally, she cast a spell to preserve the jar’s contents, and then she was done.

“I did it…”

One of the Seven Sages had just poured all her knowledge and technique into making this dried flower jar. Monica held it aloft in both hands and smiled, satisfied.

Nero groaned. He sounded frustrated. “So your goal was to make a dried flower specimen… This case just got a lot more complicated.”

As the black cat detective balked, Monica held out the jar with a little bit of pride. “This is a charm that will make me just a little bit stronger,” she said, opening her locked drawer.

Inside were her father’s coffeepot, the comb she’d bought with Lana, Lana’s letters, her father’s book, the peridot necklace, and the embroidered handkerchief. Monica gently placed the white rose jar inside her drawer of treasures.

She smiled, happy to have another.