Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 5 - Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

The Winter Market and Alteria Chimes

Each year, when the month of Shelgria arrived, the town of Craeme—located about an hour’s walk from Serendia Academy—would host a pre-solstice winter market.

Monica had been to the town once before, as part of her mission to protect the second prince. This time, she found it even busier, with many more stalls and booths.

The Kingdom of Ridill’s winter holiday spanned ten days, starting with the solstice and ending on the last day of the year. Most stores were closed during the holiday, so people had to get all their shopping done before the solstice.

Serendia students had the day off, so Monica had come to the winter market with Isabelle Norton, her secret collaborator in her mission to protect the prince, and Isabelle’s servant, Agatha.

It’s always so crowded here… Ugh, now I’m tense…

Despite her anxiety, Monica was doing fairly well. Last time, she’d been so scared of the crowd, she’d curled up into a ball in the middle of the street.

Monica, shrinking in on herself as she walked, was wearing the clothes Louis had gotten her for outings, plus a coat. Next to her, Isabelle had on a dark-yellow dress with a fur wrap. Agatha, too, was dressed for going out, having shed her servant clothing for a chocolate-brown outfit.

They’d traveled to Craeme that day so that Isabelle could get her shopping done.

As Monica stared at the ground, Isabelle turned to her and said in a cheerful tone, “Let’s head straight to the market, my dear elder sister!” Her expression was full of obvious excitement.

“My lady,” Agatha softly chided her, “others from the academy may be here. Please be careful.”

“Oh, that’s right… Then allow me to act as a villainess should.”

Isabelle took a few steps away from Monica, then jerked her chin upward.

“Come with me, bag-carrier!” she declared. “And if you don’t keep up, you’ll most certainly regret it!”

As it happened, the villainess currently treating Monica like a bag-carrier always arranged for her purchases to be loaded onto their carriage, so it was all but guaranteed there would be no bags to carry.

The winter market consisted of open-air booths and stalls radiating outward from the town square, and many of them dealt in food to last the holiday, sweets that would keep for a while, and wreaths to celebrate the solstice. A few shops would create custom-order wreaths on the spot to match their customers’ tastes.

Solstice wreaths were meant to ward off evil, and it was said that decorating your home with one would protect you from disaster and bring good fortune for the new year.

Monica had made one with her father when she was a child. She remembered calculating the ratio of vine to ribbon and the position of the pine cones.

Seeing all these wreaths sure brings back memories.

Her foster mother had bought premade ones, and ever since Monica had joined the Seven Sages and started living in her mountain cabin, she hadn’t bothered with them at all.

As Monica gazed at the wreaths, decorated with a rainbow of colored ribbons, Isabelle stopped in front of a hard candy shop.

“First, I need souvenirs, for when I return home,” she said. “I’d like a few different kinds that will survive the journey. Then I’d like to stop by that little shop known for its scented soaps, and… Oh, yes. I should buy a new book or two for the children at the orphanage.”

Books might seem like an item one could just as easily buy in County Kerbeck, but apparently it took time for newer volumes to arrive out east. Craeme, on the other hand, was relatively close to the capital, so you could find the latest popular books without any trouble.

As Isabelle counted off what she wanted to buy on her fingers, the ever-sensible Agatha gave her some advice. “The soap shop is straight down this road on the corner, my lady. The bookstore, however, is on a different street.”

“Then let’s buy the sweets first. I’d like some you can’t find so easily back home…”

Isabelle’s main goal for this shopping trip was to procure souvenirs to take back to Kerbeck with her. The month of Shelgria was in full swing, and Serendia Academy’s winter break would begin the following week. People in Ridill spent the time between the winter solstice and the new year with their families; the students would all go home, and the dorms would be completely shut down.

After Isabelle had bought ten boxes of hard candy for her family and their servants and directed the clerk to transport it to her carriage, she sighed and looked a little forlorn.

“Oh, if only you could spend the winter holiday with me…”

Isabelle had invited Monica to come home with her, and at first, Monica had planned to do just that. Isabelle and her family had been incredibly helpful, and she wanted to thank them all properly.

But two days prior, Mary Harvey, the Starseer Witch and another of the Seven Sages, had seen an omen in the stars, and the situation had taken a sudden turn.

“This winter, a dragonraid will befall our kingdom.”

Mary Harvey was the number one prophet in Ridill, and now people were on watch for dragons everywhere in the country. And since the Starseer Witch had prophesied it, as another Sage, Monica would likely be called in to help. That was why she couldn’t join Isabelle for the holiday.

Now that I think of it, there are a lot more guards in town today…

A dragon had appeared in Craeme not long ago, and the townsfolk were probably more than a little concerned about the omen.

Dragons were weak to the cold, so they were usually most active from spring to summer. The majority of them hibernated through the winter, making it a rare season for dragonraids.

But this prophecy was from the Starseer Witch herself, so despite the season, they had to be careful. Her predictions had saved this kingdom many times in the past.

“If only we could have eaten minced pie and ginger cake together for the solstice! Then I could have given you a grand tour of Kerbeck…!”

A sheen of glistening tears appeared at the corners of Isabelle’s eyes. She must have truly regretted this turn of events.

“Now, now, my lady, you’re troubling the Silent Witch.”

Agatha’s words seemed to jolt Isabelle out of her fantasies. She took out a handkerchief and patted at her tears.

“Oh, dear me. A villainess mustn’t let herself cry so easily… All her tears must be fake.”

“That, um, sounds like a pretty strict rule…,” remarked Monica with a shudder.

Isabelle rallied herself and put on a sharp expression—the very image of a refined noble girl. “I apologize for my embarrassing display,” she said. “I would still like very much to enjoy the holiday with you, but…the threat of a dragonraid is of utmost importance right now.”

The eastern regions of the Kingdom of Ridill, starting with County Kerbeck, were known for their especially frequent dragonraids. The history of Kerbeck was filled with battles against dragons, and Isabelle, Count Kerbeck’s daughter, knew the terror of these raids far better than even Monica did.

Seeing her friend’s forlorn expression, Monica awkwardly spoke up. “Um, I think they want the Seven Sages to help the Dragon Knights, so… I might, um, be dispatched near where you live, Lady Isabelle.”

“Oh! My, my, yes! Should that happen, please, please, please do come pay us a visit. We shall rally the full might of our forces to support you in exterminating the dragons!”

“Oh, no. I-I’ll be fine, so… Please prioritize protecting your lands instead…,” mumbled Monica.

Then Agatha, still wary of their surroundings, whispered “my lady” into Isabelle’s ear.

The latter quickly dropped her friendly look and angled her chin up and away in an expression of disgust. In a clear, ringing voice, she said, “Ugh, I can scarcely stand it! To think a lowly girl like you will be in the same house while I am trying to enjoy the holiday with my family in peace and quiet! It beggars belief that you are somehow related to us! Why, you’d be better off in the stables!”

“U-ummm…?” Monica was taken aback by the sudden change in her friend’s behavior.

Without moving her head, Agatha caught Monica’s eye. “The two girls behind me to the right are academy students. It seems they noticed Lady Isabelle…” The maid was keeping a constant eye on those around them in order to prevent Isabelle and Monica’s relationship from being exposed. She whispered to Isabelle, “What shall we do?”

Isabelle cast her eyes down in thought, then spoke carefully. “I would truly like to spend a nice, leisurely time with my elder sister… But just to be safe, we should split up for now. Is that all right with you?”

“Um, yes!” Monica nodded.

Isabelle twirled an orange curl around one finger, then said her next words clearly enough to carry. “I am so tired from walking! I’m sure some shop or other is serving tea. You—go buy everything I’ve written on this note at once.” She took a note out of her pocket and thrust it at Monica. It was blank. “I’ll be in front of the clock tower in one hour. If you are even one second late, I’ll make sure you regret it!”

After that, she and Agatha stepped away. Pretending she’d just noticed the two girls nearby, she greeted them with an “Oh! Good day to you.”

Monica took the opportunity to walk in the opposite direction.

Some distance away, a man had been watching the two girls: Isabelle Norton, daughter of Count Kerbeck—and Monica Norton, her attendant.

He was in his midthirties, with brown hair and a plain face that not many people would remember. He was of average height and build, and he wore an unremarkable overcoat.

He was a hired detective, but not the kind that starred in novels—who stunned the other characters with their incredible powers of deduction and dramatically solved various crimes.

Though he was a detective, he’d never deduced much of anything, really. In general, his job was to conduct background investigations and search for missing pets. That day, he was fulfilling a request to tail a certain girl—namely, Monica Norton.

It seems like Count Kerbeck’s daughter does indeed bully Monica Norton, he thought. The pure hate and disgust in her voice as she criticizes the girl can’t possibly be an act.

It was an act, but the detective didn’t know that. Instead, he turned his thoughts to the purpose of his mission.

My client told me to keep tabs on Monica, but… Is there anything out of the ordinary about her? I can’t help thinking the big-time count’s daughter is a more valuable target…

After being ordered to do the shopping by Isabelle, Monica walked to and fro, note in hand, clearly unsure of what to do. If the man was being honest, it didn’t seem like there was much point in watching her.

Well, client’s orders. I’ll keep with it for a while, he told himself. Then he continued to tail Monica.

After parting ways with Isabelle, Monica wandered around pointlessly for a little while.

We’re supposed to meet in front of the clock tower in one hour, she thought. What should I do in the meantime…?

Since Isabelle had technically ordered her to go shopping, maybe she should find something to buy. Nero had stayed back at the dorm; she could buy a treat for him. That sounded like a good idea.

Not long ago, Monica would have had trouble simply walking around the crowded winter market. Now, though, she was able to look through the shops and buy things she wanted. She still had a hard time when loud clerks tried to talk to her, though.

As Monica looked around for a shop with a more reserved staff, she heard two familiar voices.

“How long do you intend to keep eating?! Did we not come here to look for souvenirs?!”

“Come on, we’ve been walking forever. I know you’re hungry, too. Here, VP, you can have some of this.”

“I don’t want any! We’re here to shop, so let’s get down to business!”

“But it’s fun to just wander around and look at stuff!”

Monica’s eyes automatically traced the voices to their source.

A slender boy with his silver hair tied back and a tall boy with dirty-blond hair were making a nuisance of themselves in front of a stall selling food and drinks. It was Cyril Ashley and Glenn Dudley.

Neither of them were in uniform; the former wore a staid outfit, while Glenn wore something a little more rustic that looked easy to move around in.

Glenn noticed Monica watching them and waved.

“Hey, Monica!” he called out. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

Whenever Monica saw someone she knew in a crowd, she was always concerned she might bother them if she approached, so she was grateful for Glenn’s gesture.

She scampered over. “L-Lord Cyril, Glenn, hello… Ummm, are you here shopping?”

“Yep!” exclaimed Glenn. “I’m looking for a souvenir to bring home, and…”

Cyril folded his arms and nodded. “If a student from our school were to cause issues while away from the academy, it would harm the prince’s reputation. As His Highness’s aide, it’s my duty to keep an eye on the underclassmen, and—”

“And I happened to bump into him, so now we’re shopping together!” interrupted Glenn, apparently taking no offense at Cyril’s words. Then he reached into the paper bag in his hand and brought something out.

It was a fried cake, about as big as if you made a loop with your thumb and index finger, cooked to a perfect golden brown.

“Here,” said Glenn, holding it out to Monica.

“Oh, um, thank you,” she managed, receiving the piping-hot cake and taking a small bite.

The egg-and-wheat dough had a gentle flavor, and there was apricot jam inside. While the filling was a little tart, it went well with the plain sweetness of the dough.

Monica breathed in and out, trying to cool the hot jam in her mouth as she ate the cake.

Cyril patiently waited for her to finish, then asked, “Are you here by yourself, Accountant Norton?”

“No, I’m with Lady Isabelle. I’m, um, not with her at the moment, but…uh, we’re supposed to meet in an hour.”

Cyril’s face darkened. “I can’t say I like the idea of a female student going off on her own.”

“In that case, you should stick with us until you have to meet back up with her!” said Glenn. “No problem, right? Let’s go shopping, Monica! We could use a girl’s advice!”

Monica’s face tensed. A girl’s advice? she thought. She was well aware her tastes were very different from those of most other girls.

“Ummm, advice…? About what…?” she asked with trepidation.

Cyril and Glenn responded at the same time.

“What would be a good souvenir for a lady?”

“What kind of gift would make a girl happy?”

By now, even Monica knew that most girls didn’t want grimoires or books on mathematics. She tilted her head and hummed in thought. “Ummm, you want to buy a souvenir for, um, a girl?”

“Yep,” replied Glenn. “Y’see, I’ve got two little sisters, and they keep pestering me to bring them something when I come home—something stylish and cute, they said!”

Stylish and cute… That was more Lana’s wheelhouse. Monica rubbed her temple with her fingers, wondering what her friend would buy in this situation. Lana likes makeup and accessories… Oh, and the other day she said she wanted perfume… Monica didn’t know how old Glenn’s sisters were, but she got the feeling they were a little young for perfume.

Then she remembered something. Hadn’t Isabelle just been talking about a popular shop that sold scented soap?

“Ummm!” she started. “Then, um, what about some soap…? It, uh, smells good, I heard. Lady Isabelle wanted some, too…”

Monica was a little sad she couldn’t recommend it with more confidence. She hadn’t ever used it herself, after all. But this was still the best suggestion she could come up with.

Glenn popped another fried cake into his mouth and chewed it. He crooked his head to the side and thought for a moment, then said, “Why does soap have to smell good? It’s just supposed to make you less dirty, right?”

“It’s better than it smelling bad,” said Cyril. “Soap made the old way has a particular odor, and I hear a lot of people can’t stand it… And don’t talk while you eat. It’s bad manners.”

Glenn nodded and continued munching on his cake.

Cyril sighed in exasperation, then looked at Monica. “Do you know where the shop selling this soap is, Accountant Norton?”

“Oh, um, yes!” According to Agatha, it was right down the street, at the corner.

“Would you mind showing us the way?”

“Not at all!” she replied enthusiastically.

There wasn’t much she could do in this situation, but having a friend and someone she respected rely on her made her chest tingle with joy.

When they arrived at the soap shop, they found it bustling with female patrons. Apparently, it was quite popular. A few of the customers appeared to be noble girls from Serendia Academy, here with their servants. The way they kept glancing at Cyril and Glenn all but gave them away.

“Whoa, you’re right!” exclaimed Glenn as soon as they were inside. “It smells so nice in here—like flowers!”

The shop’s display shelves were covered with cloth featuring tiny flowers, atop which herbal- and floral-scented soaps sat in adorable paper wrappings. One variety even had rose petals suspended in the bar. Glenn stared at the item’s sales copy, looking mystified.

“It says Lady Barlock uses this. But who’s she?” he asked.

“The Countess of Barlock, I would assume,” answered Cyril. “I hear she’s famous in high society for her extensive knowledge of beauty products.”

Glenn nodded, then picked up one of the bars with flower petals in it. “Then I’ll go with the ones she likes! I bet my sisters will love it.”

“Don’t you have two sisters? Shouldn’t you buy two?”

Glenn looked away from Cyril and muttered, “But just look how expensive they are… I was thinking I could just cut it in half and rewrap them…”

“That would be dishonest. Buy one for each.”

“I dunno… If I spoil them like this, I bet they’ll just demand more,” complained Glenn as he picked up a second bar.

Leaving him aside, Cyril examined a bar of lavender soap.

…I wonder if he’s planning to give it to Claudia, thought Monica.

Cyril caught her staring and began to fidget. Speaking rapidly, he said, “This is, well… Lavender is rare back home, so…”

“Oh, um, yes,” she stammered. “I think it’s a good scent, too.” Monica thought it was better to choose a scent you liked yourself, rather than relying on the recommendation of some famous countess.

Cyril smiled but looked somehow dispirited.

“…All right, then,” he said. “I’ll go with this.”

As she watched him head to the counter, she cast a sidelong glance at the lavender soap. I don’t know if I can stop by this year now that there’s the possibility of a dragonraid… But if I can’t go myself, I can still send something… Yeah, that’s a good idea.

Monica picked up two bars of lavender soap and lined up at the counter.

After the three of them left the soap shop, they began to hear a clear jingling sound from somewhere.

Glenn turned and fixed his gaze on a small square around the corner. “Oh, it’s Alteria chimes.”

In the middle of the square stood a pole about as tall as an average adult. Several small, thin metal tubes hung from it, with snow crystal–like decorations occupying the gaps between them. As the northerly wind blew past, the tubes swayed and hit the other ones, causing a pretty jingling noise.

The origin of Alteria chimes was a certain legend about an ice spirit named Alteria who lived a long, long time ago.

Although Alteria was a high spirit, she was quite weak, and before long she was on the verge of disappearing forever. In order to ask the god of the spirits for help, she mustered what little strength she had and created chimes made of ice. These weren’t just any chimes, however—they were made from winter’s beauty and produced an incredibly clear, refreshing sound.

As she rang her chimes, Alteria called out to the god of the spirits.

O God, O God, I beg of you to notice me, your humble servant.

O God, O God, I beg of you to lend me your ear and hear my lowly voice.

O God, O God, I beg of you, please grant me the smallest of your blessings…

Hearing her chimes, the god of the spirits blessed Alteria and rescued her from her sorry fate.

That legend gave rise to the tradition of Alteria chimes. By ringing the chimes and praying, you could receive God’s ear and blessing—in other words, whatever you wished would be granted.

“Back home,” said Glenn, “whenever winter comes, we set one of those up at the school or the church or wherever. Do you think we could go over and ring them?”

“Glenn, do you, um, have…a wish you want granted?” asked Monica.

“Not exactly,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I just want…you know, to promise to do my best.”

“I see,” said Cyril, sounding impressed. “So you have a goal in mind and wish to swear a divine oath. I admire your attitude.”

“Heh-heh.” Glenn chuckled, then pulled a rope attached to the Alteria chimes.

The metal tubes and the snow crystal decorations hanging between them jingled. While they were still ringing, Glenn shouted, “I’m gonna work hard at my magecraft training!”

It was a good oath to make, but the fact that he’d yelled it caused people nearby to stop and stare. Monica flinched away from all the attention.

Glenn turned to her next. “You too, Monica! Wanna ring them?”

“Hweh?! Ummm… I, ummm…”

Normally, she would have turned down such an offer. But Glenn’s promise to work hard just now had really struck a chord with her. She felt she could understand, if only a little, why he’d wanted to make it.

My goal…

She stepped forward and took the rope. Then she closed her eyes, as if to confirm how she felt inside, and at last she began to speak.

“The first time I came here, I was so scared, I couldn’t take a step until Glenn found me…”

She’d squatted, shut her eyes, and cleared her thoughts of everything except numbers—the only thing she could do was retreat into her own mind. She’d never even considered taking action by herself. She’d always let some gentle hand pull her along.

“But, ummm, today, I can walk around normally. Even though there are more people than last time. So, ummm…” She rang the Alteria chimes. The metal tubes and snow crystal decorations shook, producing a beautiful jingling sound. “I, um, I want to keep getting better at…those kinds of things!”

She wasn’t able to word her promise very well, but it had clearly come from the heart.

As she let go of the rope and turned around, Cyril nodded, his arms still folded in front of him. “Glenn Dudley. Monica Norton.”

“Yessir!”

“Um, y-yes?”

He looked at his two underclassmen as they straightened up. “I have high hopes for both of you,” he said briefly.

Monica and Glenn exchanged glances and smiled. The only reason they’d decided to break character, ring the Alteria chimes, and swear their oaths was because they’d had an upperclassman there to witness it.

“Hearing that from you makes me even more determined, VP!” said Glenn.

“Heh-heh… Yeah,” Monica agreed.

The northerly wind blew again, causing the Alteria chimes to sway and jingle. As Monica listened to the sound, she silently repeated her oath—I promise to keep doing my best.

After all, she had a friend and an upperclassman willing to support her without laughing, no matter how small and silly her goal was.

That day, while Monica and the others were shopping in Craeme, Felix Arc Ridill, the kingdom’s second prince, was sitting on the couch in his private dormitory room, polishing a pocket watch.

It had been specially made for him, with the royal family’s emblem engraved into the metal. Neither that nor the fact that it could tell the time was important to him, though.

He closed the case, then twisted the bottom slightly. When he opened the lid back up, a hidden compartment beneath the face of the clock had become visible. In it was embedded a large aquamarine: the stone of contract signifying his pact with the spirit Wildianu.

Aquamarines weren’t particularly rare, but they were said to be worth more the deeper their coloration. The one in Felix’s hand right now was an extremely deep blue—a stone of the highest caliber.

Once, this stone had been worn around the neck of a noblewoman. He’d heard she had beautiful blue eyes, the exact color of the stone. Felix didn’t know much about her, but he’d once seen eyes that were every bit as beautiful and blue as hers had been.

…Though he’d never see them again, now.

Felix closed the pocket watch’s lid and opened a drawer in his desk. Just like the watch, it had a two-layered construction with a hidden space underneath a false bottom. He took out a few pieces of paper he’d stowed away in the secret compartment.

It was a half-written thesis on a certain magecraft formula—penned by none other than the prince himself.

I guess it’s time to get rid of this.

If he seriously intended to ascend the throne, such essays would be unnecessary. Political influence and linguistic ability were the main skills demanded of the second prince, not knowledge of magecraft.

“Are you…just going to stop looking?”

A young girl’s confused words flashed through his mind.

Felix smiled thinly. Resignation was written all over his face.

…That’s right.

This was something he’d have to let go of if he wanted his wish to come true. That was what he told himself, anyway, as he brought the papers over to the furnace to burn them. Behind him, Wildianu, who had taken human form in order to sort the prince’s mail, spoke up, his tone reserved.

“Master, there’s a letter for you from Duke Clockford.”

“Let me see it.”

Felix put the sheaf of paper on the edge of his desk, then unfolded the duke’s letter. The contents were about what he’d expected.

“Diplomatic work,” he said to the spirit. “A group of envoys from Farfolia is visiting the Duchy of Rehnberg, and he wants me to entertain them.”

“If I recall, the Duke of Rehnberg is…”

“Miss Eliane Hyatt’s father, yes.”

Duke Clockford’s orders were twofold. First, once winter break began, he was to head to the Duchy of Rehnberg and hold diplomatic talks with the Kingdom of Farfolia, achieving favorable results for Ridill. Second, he would stay at the duke’s estate and deepen his relationship with Eliane, one of his marriage candidates.

Farfolia, an agricultural nation, was located to the southeast of Ridill. There was little doubt the talks would concern trade; the kingdom was a vital ally. And given Ridill’s unstable relationship with the Empire, if Farfolia were to side with them instead, it would put Ridill in an extremely poor position.

He would need to be an excellent host to the envoys, strengthening their nations’ relationship while arranging trade deals that would benefit Ridill.

And I’ll have to see Miss Eliane on the side, I suppose.

With Felix staying at her family’s estate, Eliane would surely be in very high spirits. Of the prince’s marriage candidates, she was Duke Clockford’s favorite, and having earned his seal of approval at the ball following the school festival, she was acting like she and Felix were already engaged.

…It’s not that the duke likes her personally, though. He probably just supports her because her father is so easy to control.

Whatever the case, Felix’s winter break was shaping up to be quite a drag. The air at the academy was practically electric with excitement as all the students prepared to head home. Cyril seemed particularly thrilled this year; he’d been happily counting down the days until break began.

Must be nice, thought Felix with a tinge of envy. Sighing, he read through the rest of the letter—but when he reached the final sentence, his eyes shot open in surprise.

“…Master?” asked Wildianu worriedly.

“Wil! Wildianu, great news!”

The light had returned to his blue eyes, and his hands trembled with joy as they held the letter. He looked down at his thesis on the edge of the desk. It was something he’d decided to give up on—needed to let go of—had to burn. It wasn’t necessary to achieve his goal.

But I may never get a chance like this again…

He sat down at his desk, took out a feather pen and a jar of ink, and set to work on his unfinished thesis.

“Master?” asked Wildianu.

“Sorry,” replied Felix stiffly, his pen dancing across the page. “I’d like to focus for a while. Please don’t talk to me.”

The corners of his lips turned up in irrepressible joy, and his cheeks flushed. He was going to savor every moment of this.

During the holiday, I’ll… I’ll get to meet the Silent Witch! Lady Everett herself!

After their shopping trip to Craeme, Monica returned to the academy with Isabelle. She walked through the girls’ dorm, clutching the lavender soap to her chest as she headed for her attic room.

She was going to give the two bars of soap to her foster mother and their housemaid as thank-you gifts for taking care of her. She hadn’t been to visit them since she became a Sage, but she was hoping to stop by if she could find the time that year.

Miss Hilda lives in the capital, so if I have time before the new year, I can probably pay her a visit…

As a Sage, Monica was required to attend the weeklong New Year’s celebration at the castle. The previous year, she’d been so absorbed in developing a new magecraft formula, she’d completely forgotten about it.

In the end, Louis had used flight magic to race to her cabin in the mountains shortly before the new year. He’d then rolled her up in a big mat and had taken her to the castle by force. Just the memory of it sent chills down her spine.

That was really scary…

As she reflected on this, she climbed the ladder to her attic room and pushed up the door.

“Oof. Nero, I’m back.”

“Welcome home.”

But the one greeting her as she crawled up through the doorway wasn’t Nero—and it wasn’t Ryn, either.

Instead, it was a monocled man sitting on the window frame with his legs neatly crossed and his long, chestnut-colored hair done up in a braid. This was Louis Miller, the Barrier Mage and another of the Seven Sages.

Louis was the one responsible for the defensive barrier surrounding Serendia Academy, which meant he could enter the school even without permission, at least temporarily. There was a significant risk that someone would spot him, however. Louis was normally a very careful man, so the fact that he’d braved that risk to come here in person was a very bad sign indeed.

Monica blanched and trembled. “U-ummm, today…wasn’t the New Year’s ceremony, was it?”

Normally, the man sitting on the windowsill would have said something like, “Are you sleeping with your eyes open, my fellow Sage?” but this time, he spoke in a grave tone and got directly to the point.

“Things have taken a very bad turn,” he said.

Louis was the kind of man who, even when things went south, tended to smile like he had everything under control, or else desperately laugh it off. His solemn expression meant things weren’t just bad, they were terrible.

Pushing up his monocle with one finger, he explained. “Lady Monica Everett. You have been summoned in your role as the Silent Witch to protect our kingdom’s second prince, Felix Arc Ridill.”

“…Ummm, isn’t that, well, what I’m doing right now?”

She was, at that very moment in fact, on a mission to guard the prince while concealing her identity. Monica had been prepared for the worst, so this revelation left her feeling oddly disappointed.

But Louis, his expression still grave, shook his head. “I’m not talking about your secret mission. This is an official assignment.”

“…Huh?”

“In the coming days, a group of envoys from the Kingdom of Farfolia will be visiting the Duchy of Rehnberg. Diplomatic negotiations are set to take place there, and it’s been decided that the second prince will participate.”

Felix was often present at diplomatic talks with neighboring nations. He’d been participating in such events ever since his early teens, and he’d secured several very important deals.

“Since the duchy is in the southeast…there is a danger it will be subject to dragonraids.”

Quickly understanding the situation, Monica felt her face tense. “You mean I’m to p-protect him…at the talks?” she asked.

“That’s right. And since this is an official mission, you must show yourself before the prince and act as the Silent Witch would.”

Monica was speechless.

Louis heaved a sigh. “And even worse…”

“I-it gets worse?!”

“It does indeed. My idiot pupil will be joining you to protect him.”

Louis’s pupil was one of the people she’d just been out shopping with in Craeme—Glenn Dudley. And he had no idea she was a Sage.

“B-but why…? How did this…?”

“Originally, this job was supposed to fall to you and me. But those geezers in the central regions are wetting their pants over this dragonraid business and are demanding that the Barrier Mage remain in the royal capital.”

Louis was second to none in Ridill when it came to defensive barriers. While Monica could cast them faster than he could, he was far superior in all other aspects, such as strength, scope, and duration. Some even called him Ridill’s guardian deity.

“Allow me to repeat for you what those rotten ministers said to me. ‘Oh, come to think of it, you have a very talented pupil, don’t you, my lord? You can simply send him on the mission instead. That solves everything. Ha-ha-ha.’ Their suggestion went uncontested, and now, as they say, here we are.”

Apparently, some of the kingdom’s most prominent figures had witnessed Glenn’s efforts during the festival play. After seeing him in action, they’d decided he was very talented and more than capable of protecting the prince.

Louis had objected, of course, but due to the dragonraids, Ridill simply didn’t have enough people to go around. Louis had suggested that in that case, they might as well send the Silent Witch alone, but he hadn’t been able to convince those in charge.

Anger seeped into the edges of his words, and his face twisted into a wicked expression. But Monica didn’t have any time to be afraid of him.

I have to openly guard the prince as the Silent Witch? And with Glenn around? While concealing my identity?

It was reckless, no matter how she thought about it. She could pull her hood low over her face, but her voice would give her away the moment she opened her mouth.

“U-ummm, I, uh, if I talk, they’ll know it’s me…”

“That’s why I’m thinking of having an attendant go with you to speak on your behalf. Someone who knows you, knows your identity, and doesn’t let secrets slip. Can you think of anyone like that?”

Sadly, the Silent Witch didn’t have any such acquaintances. As for people who knew her identity, she could only think of Bernie Jones. But as the son of a count, he was very busy. She couldn’t possibly ask this of him.

That leaves…Nero, I guess? He’s the only one. He could transform into a human and serve as my attendant…

But could Nero even manage something like that? He wouldn’t simply be attending to her, he’d have to speak on her behalf, too. The idea left her uneasy.

As she gripped her aching stomach, Louis rubbed his throbbing temples. It seemed this was stressing out both of them.

“At any rate, nothing can be changed now,” he said. “Please pick someone quickly.”

“R-right…”

“I’ll be very clear with my idiot apprentice not to talk to the Silent Witch more than necessary and to bother her as little as possible.”

“Um, thank you…”

Glenn was very friendly, no matter who he was with, and that was bound to cause problems. She could easily imagine him sticking his face in hers, saying something like, “Hey, Miss Silent Witch, why the hood? Why so quiet?”

“You’ll also need your official robe and staff,” Louis continued. “They’re both at your cabin, right?”

Each of the Seven Sages was given a special robe and a staff. But Monica hadn’t been able to bring them to Serendia Academy, as she was meant to keep her identity a secret. For that reason, she’d left both behind.

“We’re short on time, so I’ll have Ryn fetch them. Your robe’s in your wardrobe, right?”

“Um, yes…”

Monica didn’t have many clothes, so her wardrobe was pretty empty. It probably wouldn’t be hard to find her robe. The bigger problem was the staff.

“And where is your staff?” asked Louis. “Let me guess—buried under some paperwork?”

“N-no… My staff, it’s… I don’t use it much, so, well…”

A mage’s staff was a magical item capable of stabilizing mana and temporarily amplifying it. While it was a good tool to have, most who rose to the position of Sage no longer needed such support. Plus, in Ridill, the length of one’s staff denoted status. As a result, those belonging to Sages, who stood at the pinnacle of magecraft, were needlessly long.

Not only was Monica’s longer than she was tall, but it was also covered in decorative baubles. It took up a lot of space and only got in the way inside her cabin.

“Ummm, well, the staff is… It’s in the yard…”

“The yard?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

Monica began fiddling with her fingers and said quietly, “I’m using it as, um, a drying pole…”

Louis Miller was left speechless, his beautiful face twisting up as it never had before.

A young maid rushed down the hallway of the Serendia Academy girls’ dorm.

Her name was Dory, and she served the daughter of Marquess Shaleberry, Bridget Greyham. She was terribly impatient, and whenever she had something to say to her young lady, she was overcome with the urge to run. But reminding herself she was currently at Serendia Academy, she kept her pace at a brisk, elegant walk.

If I embarrass myself, it will bring shame to Lady Bridget… I must be careful!

She stopped in front of the door to Bridget’s room and quickly took a deep breath. She wanted to keep her composure and impress the young lady she respected.

She knocked and announced her presence, careful not to let her low-class accent slip out. “Please excuse me, my lady.”

“You may enter.”

She softly opened the door and went inside.

Bridget was the only one there, sitting on her couch and reading a book on foreign languages. Since it was a holiday, she wore a dress with a subdued design instead of her uniform.

Her lustrous golden locks; her smooth, pale skin; her amber eyes framed by long lashes—Dory knew of nobody else as beautiful as Bridget. For someone like Dory, with frizzy black hair and freckles, Bridget was an idol.

She’s gorgeous, no matter how many times I see her… Grandpa used to say a beauty becomes a bore in three days, but I never tire of looking at Bridget.

As Dory stood there, captivated, Bridget marked the page in her book and turned to stare at her maid. She was waiting for Dory to tell her why she’d come.

Hastily, Dory took a note out of her pocket. With the calm demeanor of a proper servant, she handed it to Bridget.

“A report from the detective you hired, my lady. Apparently, the target—Monica Norton—went to the winter market in Craeme…”

The note contained a record of Monica Norton’s actions at the winter market. She had gone with the Count of Kerbeck’s daughter to carry her things, but the noble girl had erupted in anger partway through the trip and ordered Monica to go shop on her own. After that, she’d encountered two male students from Serendia Academy and spent some time with them. Later, she met back up with the count’s daughter and returned to the girls’ dorm—nothing suspicious, in the detective’s view.

Lately, the young lady Dory served had been investigating this Monica Norton girl. She seemed harmless and plain, but Dory had witnessed her using flight magecraft, which meant she was a mage.

I’m sure there is a very deep, elaborate reason why Lady Bridget is investigating her.

Dory had a hypothesis.

She believed that Isabelle Norton, daughter of Count Kerbeck, was in love with Prince Felix and, in order to eliminate her rivals, had hired Monica, a mage down on her luck.

The destitute mage must have falsified her identity and infiltrated the academy in order to help set up Prince Felix and Isabelle, and since Bridget was in their way, they were plotting to eliminate her.

I’m sure Lady Bridget will uncover the evil mage’s identity! My, she’s so gallant!

Dori’s delusions went even further—she imagined that Bridget would unveil the evil mage, and then Felix would propose to her.

I was almost deceived by an evil mage, the prince would say. Thank you, Bridget. Will you be my wife?

Yes, Prince, she would reply. I would be happy to.

And so Felix would become king with Bridget as his queen, and they’d live happily ever after.

While Dory was busy dreaming up ever more fantastical scenarios, Bridget finished reading the note and handed it back to her.

“Destroy this,” she said. “Make sure nobody can use it as evidence.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“And have the detective watch Monica Norton during winter break as well… It’s very likely she’ll show her true colors once she’s outside the academy.”

Then Bridget went back to reading her book, as if nothing had happened.

Dory, who had been basking in her fantasies, immediately reverted to being a capable maid. “Understood, my lady. I will inform him. Regarding other matters… The tailor responsible for the aqua-blue dress you ordered the other day would like to adorn the chest with a flower decoration, with your permission.”

Dory had seen the dress’s design. It was wonderful, well-suited for the classy, mature Bridget. But the chest area did seem a bit plain. With a flower there, her young lady would be even more beautiful.

But Bridget shook her head slightly. “If he wants to add something, have him choose a different decoration.”

“Yes, my lady. I’ll tell him.”

Just then, something dawned on Dory. It seemed to her that Bridget had very few accessories or hair ornaments with flower motifs.

I wonder if she doesn’t like flowers? Maybe she enjoys them in vases, but not on her clothes?

Dory continued privately wondering as she left Bridget’s room behind.

Now alone, Bridget lowered her gaze to the chest area of her dress. Now that she thought of it, another servant had recommended the same thing this morning—that a flower corsage would look very good on her.

They were probably right; a floral decoration would match her outfit well. And yet she had no intention of adding one.

There is only one person in the world who can give me the flower I desire, she thought to herself, her long eyelashes coming down to meet her cheeks.

Winter break was about to begin—thick with schemes and secrets.