Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 6 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

A Letter from Bernie Jones

A horse-drawn cart was traveling down the road toward Serendia Academy with Bartholomeus Baal in the driver’s seat. A craftsman originally from the Empire, Bartholomeus’s life had been full of twists and turns since coming to Ridill. He’d worked a job at a magical item workshop, served as a general handyman, and he’d even done chores at the Duke of Rehnberg’s mansion. Now, though, he was employed by a certain young girl.

The girl had requested he look into the background of one Peter Summs, formerly a servant at the Rehnberg mansion, whose true name was apparently Barry Oats. And despite the request’s simplicity, she’d offered a truly mind-boggling sum of money for his work.

The name of his employer was Monica Everett, also known as the Silent Witch. She was one of the Seven Sages, the greatest mages in the kingdom.

Can’t say I know what’s on the kid’s mind, he thought, but whatever it is, I’m in luck. I’ll have food for a while, and if I play my cards right, I might have a chance with Rynny.

Bartholomeus had one goal, and one goal alone: to get closer to Rynny, the girl he’d fallen head over heels for. Her true name was Rynzbelfeid, and she was the contracted spirit of the Barrier Mage Louis Miller, another one of the Sages. To that end, he’d volunteered to help with whatever the Silent Witch needed.

A put-together man like me really knows how to make things happen, eh?

He’d heard from the Silent Witch that she had infiltrated Serendia Academy as a student and was currently on a secret mission to guard the second prince. In order to stay in easy contact with her, Bartholomeus had wormed his way into a contracting company that often visited the school.

The academy’s winter break would soon be over, and he was on his way there to deliver a load of foodstuffs. The cart was a simple vehicle with no roof and several wooden crates packed with food loaded onto it—plus a young man, sitting against one of the crates.

“Hmmm, hm, hm, hmmm.”

The kid was skinny, with his red hair up in spikes, and he was humming a tune. He was on his way to the academy, and had asked Bartholomeus for a ride on his cart.

His clothing was loose and untidy, but it was still of good quality. Bartholomeus, convinced he was from some well-off family, had agreed without a second thought and let him climb aboard.

“Hmmm, hm, hm, hmmm!”

For some reason, hearing the kid humming made Bartholomeus want to sing. There was plenty to lift his spirits: It was a calm day with little wind, and warmer than you’d expect in midwinter. But most of all, he knew the day he’d get to meet his beloved Rynny was close at hand. How could he stop himself from singing?

“Oh goddess whom I love, I’m off to see you, with flowers that suit you well. Please, my goddess, hold me in your merciful arms.”

It was a song from his homeland about a sculptor who fell in love with his own statue depicting a goddess. Many would call such a thing ridiculous, but Bartholomeus could understand the man’s feelings well.

Every artist, every craftsman, inevitably had their hearts stolen by beauty. They were all suckers for a pretty face, basically. When he’d learned that the one he loved wasn’t a human but a spirit, he’d felt understanding rather than despair. After all, her beauty and grace were divine.

“Oh goddess whom I love…”

“You’ve got a good voice,” said the young man. His speech was languid and slow.

Bartholomeus stopped singing and grinned. “Heh. Sorry if I was bothering you. I couldn’t help myself when I thought about the woman in my heart.”

“Your beloved goddess, you mean?”

“You got it. And what a goddess she is. There are two moments in life when I feel truly happy: One is when I put the finishing touches on a difficult craft, and the other is when I’m chasin’ the woman of my dreams.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel. About both things. Nice, ain’t it…?”

The young man’s lips curled into a grin, and he folded his hands behind his head. He wore several rings on his fingers, and when Bartholomeus saw them, he raised his eyebrows slightly.

Wow, look at those… He’s so young, but he really has it made, eh?

The red-haired boy leaned back, looked up into the sky, and began to sing, using the same melody as Bartholomeus but with different lyrics. “Oh queen whom I love, I’m off to see you, with an arrow to pierce your heart. Even if it isn’t right, please, step on me with your merciless feet.”

In contrast to the cheery melody, his version of the lyrics was rather dark. Bartholomeus felt a chill and unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck.

Two days before the end of Serendia Academy’s winter vacation, Monica met up with Isabelle in central Kerbeck, and they set off for school together. Her cover story was that she’d gone to County Kerbeck over the break, so it would seem unnatural if she didn’t travel back to the dorms with Isabelle.

There had been a dragonraid prognostication before the winter solstice, so the eastern provinces, always on alert for such things, were in a state of chaos. No small number of eastern nobles had declined to attend the New Year’s ceremony. Count Kerbeck, Isabelle’s father, was one of them.

Monica had been privately worried about this. Though she’d slain the cursed dragon, the winter holidays in Kerbeck probably hadn’t been much fun. But the smile on Isabelle’s face when they met was as genuine as ever.

“It’s so good to see you again, my dear sister! The break seemed to last for ages without you! And I hear you and Felix slew the Cursed Dragon of Rehnberg last month! I never expected anything less from you, my sister! Please, do tell me all about—”

“My lady,” said her maidservant Agatha, chiding Isabelle lightly for getting overexcited. “Shouldn’t you first tell the Silent Witch about what happened the other day?”

“Oh, dear me. Yes, I do have an important report.” Isabelle corrected her posture, now ashamed of her earlier merriment. She continued, a serious expression on her face. “Somebody is going around investigating you.”

“…Huh?”

According to Isabelle, someone had visited several monasteries in County Kerbeck, asking if they had any records of a girl named Monica having lived there. The Nortons had laid the groundwork among their people and spread a rumor that Monica was in the stables at the count’s mansion. And, hearing this, someone had snuck onto their estate to confirm her presence.

Monica’s cover story, which Louis had thought up before she infiltrated the academy, had her as the daughter of the former Countess of Kerbeck, who had adopted her from a monastery. So if someone was poking their nose around all the monasteries in the area, that meant they had doubts about her identity.

“We had a body double prepared for you for the duration of the break,” explained Isabelle. “I believe we managed to convince the intruder that Monica Norton is real, but perhaps it would be best to remain cautious for the time being.”

“Um, thank you…”

Despite her words of gratitude, Monica’s mind was in turmoil. If anyone had doubts about Monica Norton, it was probably someone linked to Serendia Academy. Of all the possibilities she could think of, the first to come to mind was Felix. He’d left Duke Rehnberg’s mansion certain that the Silent Witch was someone at his school. It was more than possible he was investigating Monica as a candidate. As far as I could tell from our meeting at the palace, it seems like he still doesn’t know who I am, but…

If it was someone else looking into her background, she had no idea who it could be. She shivered, feeling like an unseen enemy was sneaking up on her from behind.

Isabelle took something out of her bags. “You’re very welcome,” she said. “And in light of all that, I’ve taken precautions for when classes begin again.”

“Precautions?” repeated Monica.

“Look at this,” said Isabelle, holding out a diary.

Monica took the book and flipped through it, skimming the words within. It contained a record—much more detailed than any normal diary—of everything that had happened during Isabelle’s winter vacation in tiny, cramped letters. Of particular note was the fact that Monica appeared in it.

“Today, we went on an inspection tour of Alvana. But why did we have to bring that girl along? I made her hold my things as payment for accompanying me, but she began to whine and complain immediately, so I took away her meal privileges. How good it felt!” (And so on.)

“Oh, how awful! That girl carelessly broke my favorite teacup. It was brand-new, blue like the ocean, from Falim May… And it had such an intricate climbing rose pattern on it, which I loved! Obviously, this was unforgivable, so I chased her back into the stable, where she belongs. I can’t believe I must share this mansion with her! She’s lower than livestock. Even a stable is too good for the likes of her!” (And so on.)

Monica was speechless. Isabelle watched her, eyes sparkling.

“What do you think?” she asked.

What did she think? How was Monica supposed to respond to this? “Um, well, what is it…?”

“It’s a diary of my winter vacation,” explained Isabelle. “The whole Norton family joined hands to create it.”

Isabelle began to flip through the diary, cheerfully offering explanations of various sections. One was written with her mother’s supervision, another was her little brother’s idea. It was written with extraordinary detail, from descriptions of the Kerbeck mansion’s interior and the coloring and design of Isabelle’s dresses, right down to the patterning on the teacup Monica had allegedly broken. In fact, as Monica read it, she almost began to believe she’d really been there.

“When classes start again, I’m sure your friends will ask what you did over the vacation,” said Isabelle. “And if you read this, you’ll have plenty to talk about! It’s perfect!”

“I, um, I see!”

Monica definitely couldn’t tell Lana about any of the things she’d actually done during the break—dealing with the cursed dragon in Rehnberg, visiting her foster mother, participating in the magecraft dedication at the palace, attending the New Year’s ceremony and banquet. But if she memorized Isabelle’s diary, she wouldn’t have to make excuses whenever she was asked.

But this won’t be that easy to talk about, either…

In the diary, Isabelle relentlessly tormented her, forced her to go without meals, chased her into the stables, and made her lap up muddy water. How could she tell her friends any of this? But she couldn’t disappoint Isabelle after she’d gone to all this trouble for Monica’s sake.

For now, Monica vowed to finish reading the hefty diary by the following morning.

In Monica’s absence, a thin layer of dust had accumulated in her attic room. She opened a window for ventilation, then pulled Nero out of her bag. He was still in his winter hibernation; he would occasionally wake up, drink a little water, and then doze back off again. Monica put a few pieces of cloth into an empty basket and set Nero down in it to sleep.

“Wake up soon, okay?” she said quietly, rolling up her sleeves to get some cleaning done. But just then, she noticed there was a letter sitting on her desk. The housemaster must have delivered it during the break; it was addressed to her.

Wondering who it could be from, she picked up the envelope. When she saw the name, her eyes went wide.

Bernie Jones. A friend of hers from her time at Minerva’s, and someone who now considered her a rival.

Monica decided the cleaning could wait. Using a letter opener, she carefully broke the seal on the envelope.

To my eternal rival,

I hope you’re doing well.

I, ever competent and talented, am studying every day to succeed my father.

I had wanted to participate in the New Year’s greetings, but mourning for my elder brother continues. I regret not being able to take part.

The reason I’m writing to you like this, despite how incredibly busy I am, is to inform you that your lifelong rival, Bernie Jones, has news for you that will surely be to your benefit.

While I would love for you to sniffle and cry and thank me profusely, once you see this news, you will probably burst into tears for another reason.

If you understand, then take a deep breath, cover your mouth so that you don’t scream, and read the second page of this letter.

Monica did as Bernie said, taking a deep breath before covering her mouth and unfolding the second page of the letter.

Now that your heart and mind are prepared, I will deliver the news.

Our senior, one of the school’s very few problem children, the second of this name, Huberd Dee, left Minerva’s yesterday. He’ll be transferring to Serendia Academy this winter.

Yes, I speak of the one and only Huberd Dee who chased you so passionately around school, attempting to challenge you to magic battles.

I doubt he knows that you are secretly attending Serendia Academy under a false identity. Even so, I can easily predict that he will challenge you to a magic battle if he finds you.

Please take care not to let him. I hope you can still carry out your mission, though you may be trembling in fear day and night.

Your lifelong rival,

Bernie Jones

Monica managed not to scream, but she did start wheezing from behind her palm. She was shaking, and she felt a cold sweat break out all over her body.

“D-D-D-Dee? Dee is transferring here?!”

Huberd Dee had been one of Monica’s upperclassmen when she was attending Minerva’s. He was also the nephew of the Artillery Mage, one of the Seven Sages. Despite his elite lineage, however, he’d instigated an incredible number of violent incidents. They’d held him back several times; he was considered one of the top five problem children in the school’s history.

About ten years ago, there had been a student literally called the “Problem Child of Minerva’s,” who had been completely unmanageable and had left a legend in their wake. Huberd was said to rival them in deed and reputation, and now he was called the “Second Problem Child of Minerva’s.”

Just like his uncle, the Artillery Mage, he was hot-blooded and loved magic battles. However, Huberd was far less of a listener. His audacity surpassed even Nero’s. It was simply indescribable.

Monica would never forget what had happened three years ago. She was forced into a magic battle with Huberd, and was so terrified, she hit him with every offensive spell she knew, right out of the gate. To put it bluntly, she’d beaten him up—badly. Ever since then, he’d been obsessed, challenging her to a battle whenever he got the chance.

Monica had holed up in her laboratory partly because of her shyness, but another big motivator was her desire to escape Huberd.

“N-n-now what?! Wh-what do I dooooo?!”

Makeup and disguises probably wouldn’t fool him. He was a boorish man, but one with a keen eye. If he ever caught sight of her, she was done for. She could see it now—him dragging her off to the magic battle training grounds. And this when she was already on edge about Felix’s suspicions and the mystery person poking around County Kerbeck. And now I have this to deal with, too?!

Monica squeezed Bernie’s letter as bitter tears rolled down her cheeks.

On the first day of school, Monica was even more wary of her surroundings than usual. All clear to the right. All clear to the left. Nothing to the back or front, either… Every time she walked a few steps, she’d glance around. She couldn’t possibly have looked more suspicious.

“What in the world are you doing?” asked Lana from behind.

“Gyah!” yelped Monica; she’d just barely managed to swallow a scream, but the sound she produced instead was even weirder.

Lana peered at her face with concern. “Oh, no. You seem a little pale. Are you sure you don’t need to go back to your room and rest?”

“I-I-I’m, um, I’m fine. There are, um, no classes today…”

The first day of the new term was just for announcements, and classes were scheduled to start the following day. The problem was what would come after the announcements—a meeting of the student council.

I wonder if I can…act normally, like I did before… She clenched her left hand—she still hadn’t fully recovered—and thought back to what had happened at the castle.

While speaking with the Silent Witch, Felix had been formal and respectful. So had Cyril. They were polite, careful not to offend one of the Seven Sages.

If Lana found out who Monica was, they probably couldn’t be friends anymore. At least not like they were now.

…That’s the last thing I want to happen.

She curled the fingers of her left hand a little and felt a stinging pain shoot up into her wrist. There was so much she had to hide—the pain in her hand, her identity, everything.

As Monica quietly resolved herself, she heard a familiar voice call out “Heeey!” from behind.

She turned to find two young men walking over to her. One was tall and had dirty-blond hair, while the other was short with brown curls—Glenn and Neil. They walked side by side, making their height difference even more obvious than usual. Glenn seemed energetic today; he was waving his arm in big back-and-forth motions at Monica and Lana.

After the four of them said their hellos, they headed to their classrooms, chatting about their winter vacations along the way.

“I relaxed at my family’s house and shadowed my father at work,” said Neil.

He shared a few minor events from his life during the break, then Lana told them about Southerndole Harbor, where she had accompanied her father on a trip.

“Southerndole is simply wonderful every time I go. There are so many shops that I never get bored. What about you two?”

And there it was. The conversation had turned to Monica. As she thought hard about how to explain the contents of Isabelle’s diary, Glenn took the lead.

“I went to Rehnberg during the first half of the break,” he explained.

Lana’s eyes widened. “Oh, my. Really? Wasn’t that where the cursed dragon attacked?!”

The incident in Rehnberg was a huge event being spoken of across the kingdom, but most of the attention was focused on the two people who had slain it—the second prince and the Silent Witch. Almost nobody knew the Barrier Mage’s apprentice was there, so Lana’s surprise made sense.

As Monica idly thought this over, Lana turned to her.

“…Monica,” she said, “you don’t seem very surprised. Did you already know about this?”

“Huh?! Oh, um, no, I’m surprised.”

She couldn’t exactly tell Lana that she was there. Fortunately, Lana didn’t press her further. “Glenn, does that mean you fought the dragon alongside Prince Felix and a Sage?”

“Well, no…” Glenn trailed off, lowering his gaze.

He was probably thinking back to the fear he’d felt facing the dragon. It couldn’t be easy for him. Monica wasn’t sure what to say. She was the only one who knew he’d almost died from the dragon’s curse.

But before she could say anything, Glenn raised his face and grinned. “I couldn’t do anything. The prez and the Silent Witch were the ones who beat it!”

“Did you see them fighting it?”

“Ah, no. I didn’t get the chance.”

At the time, Glenn had been unconscious because of the curse, so naturally he hadn’t witnessed the battle. He seemed reluctant to mention that, however.

I wonder if he’s all right…, thought Monica.

She’d only suffered a tiny bit of the dragon’s curse, but the aftereffects were still bothering her. Glenn might have a high mana resistance, but in his case, it had consumed his whole body. He must still be suffering.

If I’d handled things better, he wouldn’t have been cursed, she thought, hanging her head.

At the palace, she had apologized to Louis in private for not protecting his apprentice.

But Louis had seemed totally unconcerned. “I’m no fool,” he’d said. “I won’t blame my apprentice’s inexperience on someone else.”

The Barrier Mage liked to put others in his debt whenever possible, and he would always wring them dry later. But when it came to the cursed dragon affair, he didn’t criticize Monica.

Even so, she kept wondering if she could have done more to help Glenn.

“Mooo-niii-caaa,” said Glenn. “What’s wrong? You seem kinda depressed.”

Snapping out of it, she looked up and locked eyes with Glenn, who was staring at her with concern. She smiled vaguely and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What were you up to during the break anyway, Monica? Did you get to eat some mince pie?”

“Um, no… I had bread and pickles—”

Monica stopped abruptly and closed her mouth. She had eaten bread during winter break because her foster mother Hilda had destroyed the kitchen, but she couldn’t tell her friends that. She suddenly grew flustered.

Then she remembered the diary she’d read last night. “Umm, well… There was a whole lot of food at Count Kerbeck’s mansion. Flaky pies, a lot of soup, ginger cakes with a lot of sugar, and…”

But the Monica in Isabelle’s diary had barely eaten any of it. She’d sat in the spot farthest from the fireplace, shivering in the cold, dining on vegetable scraps, and slurping her soup.

“I dropped a slice of my ginger cake, and that girl actually picked it up and ate it like some kind of urchin. What a horrible sight! She’s like a stray dog!”

How was Monica supposed to explain that? She faltered, all mixed-up.

Lana, Glenn, and Neil looked at her with sympathy.

“…Well, we’ll get to eat proper food in the cafeteria today,” said Lana. “Come with me, all right?”

“Do you want some of the ginger cake I packed as a snack, Monica?” offered Glenn.

“Umm, I’m not sure what to say… It sounds like you had quite the time of it,” said Neil.

Apparently, the three of them now believed she’d been fed only bread and pickles while the rest of the family enjoyed luxurious feasts. It wasn’t very far off from the story in the diary, so Monica just smiled vaguely and did nothing to correct their misunderstanding.

After school, she went to the student council room and found the other members already at their seats around the conference table. She wasn’t late, but she felt a little guilty for arriving last. She bowed to the others a few times as she moved to her seat. The council consisted of the following:

The student council president, Felix Arc Ridill.

The vice president, Cyril Ashley.

The secretaries, Elliott Howard and Bridget Greyham.

The general affairs officer, Neil Clay Maywood.

The accountant, Monica Norton.

With the six of them assembled, Felix smiled gently and began to speak.

“I’m sincerely happy that all of us are here together again. May the blessing of Serendine, Goddess of Light, be upon the new year and our academy.”

With those words, the first student council meeting of the new year began. About half a year remained in the current members’ terms, but since Serendia Academy had a long break from early to late summer corresponding to the height of the social season, it would go by in a flash.

The events to be held over the next six months were mostly small in scale, such as club competitions and presentations. The biggest event would probably be the general student assembly.

The first council meeting of the new term was for going over the rough schedule for the coming months. They’d have additional meetings regarding the details of each event over the next few days.

“Ah, and another thing,” said Felix once they were finished. He narrowed his azure eyes and looked around at the other council members. “For certain reasons, I’m searching for a girl whose left hand is injured. If you find her, can you let me know?”

Monica’s pulse sped up, and her heart began to pound. She used all the muscles in her face to keep from grimacing, but still turned stiff as stone.

Neil, who sat next to her, asked, “Do you mean a female student in the advanced course?”

“She could be in the intermediate course,” replied Felix, “or she could be another student’s servant. I’m certain she’s not part of the faculty… I’ve looked into all of them already.”

He already checked all the faculty members?! The speed at which he worked was terrifying. Monica watched him with terror in her eyes.

The next question came from Cyril. “Sir, can you tell us any of her other characteristics? Her height, perhaps?”

“Unfortunately, I have very little other information. But if I had to say… She’s pretty short. Around Monica’s height, I’d guess.”

Monica desperately held in a whimper. Fortunately, she was always getting flustered, so nobody realized that she was practically on death’s door. But now a cold sweat covered her body.

Cyril thought this over. “Who is this girl to you, sir?” he asked eventually, choosing his words carefully.

“I suppose you might say I owe her a debt. Either way, I must see her,” said Felix, a sweet smile crossing his face. That was the smile he showed the Silent Witch.

It was just as Monica had feared. Felix was sure the Silent Witch was somewhere at the academy. She unconsciously put her left hand below the desk and held it with her right.

What should I do? What will I do? What can I do? Should I force myself to use my left hand to prove it’s not hurt? But that might make me seem even more suspicious…

As she racked her brain trying to come up with something, Elliott glanced at Cyril. “How odd,” he said casually. “Normally, you would have said something like, If that is your wish, sir, I will find her at any cost!”

“I thought that went without saying,” said Cyril firmly. He seemed a little restless, however. “I will gladly do whatever the prince asks, with all my effort.”

An awkward silence followed, until Bridget said simply, “Does Accountant Norton not match that description?”

Monica, feeling like she might faint at any second, let out a silent scream. I do match it! I’m the one he’s looking for! It’s me! There’s no doubt!

Her diaphragm had been spasming strangely for a while now, trying to push out whimpers and sobs. But Monica held on, using all the strength at her disposal to keep her voice and expression calm.

“My, um, my left hand isn’t injured,” she said, removing her left glove and clenching her fist. It actually hurt quite a bit, but she desperately fought to keep that from showing.

Felix looked closely at Monica’s small hand. “Yes, it’s not you,” he concluded.

“N-no, sir.”

“Come to think of it, you’re good at finding people, aren’t you? You can tell the size of a person just by looking at them, if I recall… Maybe I should have had her measured,” he murmured to himself.

Measure what, exactly?! Monica was at her limit. But somehow or other, she managed to hold on.

Amazing! How am I still conscious? I can’t believe it!

Deeply impressed by her own progress, Monica failed to realize something.

As she continued to clench and unclench her fist, Cyril was watching her very carefully.