22

“The holy relic was nothing more than a gift. Whether Kansas offered it or not wouldn’t have changed the situation. He simply handed King Wenceslav an easy excuse—the kind anyone could understand.”

Zoin poured distilled liquor into a clear shot glass set on the shelf and enjoyed the distinctive scent of the cask.

“I heard every thug Talidge had brought died in the fire. If so, who’s left to get tangled up with him? Darius, you should know.”

“…Laika Brandy. No, her attendant—if I remember right…”

“His attendant was called Ains, apparently.”

Zoin had never come face-to-face with Ains.

So where had this man learned about Ains? Darius feared Zoin’s intelligence network. At the same time, he thought perhaps it wasn’t strange at all—for Father, at least.

“Ains was the kind of man who held enough threat—and value—to move Lady Lizelotte herself. Darius, you misjudged Ains’s value when you first faced him. And you misjudged Lady Laika who brought him, and the Brandy family.”

Zoin took a sip of the distilled liquor in his shot glass.

The harsh alcohol burned down Zoin’s throat. Its aroma slipped through his nose. Enjoying the aftertaste, Zoin continued.

“Talidge, whom Her Ladyship considered worth fixating on, was tied to this Ains. You misjudged the value of Talidge—your own attendant.”

In the dim room, Zoin’s gentle expression remained, yet his eyes shone with a cold, merciless light.

“Darius, you unquestionably shifted the balance in the three-way relationship between House Sobi, the royal family, and House Brandy. More precisely, you overturned the scales that had been tipping in House Sobi’s favor.”

Zoin set the glass softly onto the shelf and leaned his weight against it.

“Darius, did you know I had many siblings? Hmm?”

“N-no. I… I might have heard something like that vaguely from Mother, but it was unclear.”

“I did,” Zoin replied lightly. “And now they’re gone. In House Sobi, brothers who aren’t the head of the house have always been short-lived. Do you know why?”

Darius’s body trembled as if he were standing in extreme cold.

Zoin’s gaze—and the furnishings lined up in the study—and the portraits of successive heads of the house—closed in around Darius.

He was Darius Sobi, and yet there was no warmth of family here at all.

“A-a curse…”

As he stepped back, Darius let the word spill out unconsciously.

Hearing him, Zoin burst into loud laughter in the spacious study.

“Fuahah, ahahahaha. A curse. Exactly. A curse that was set up.”

Then Zoin immediately returned to his usual expression.

As if he had peeled a laughing mask off his face, the smile vanished in an instant.

And the expression beneath that mask was not one a father should show his family—nor his son.

“Darius. I—no, House Sobi—doesn’t particularly care if you’re ‘short-lived.’”

Darius’s knees had completely given out, and he collapsed in an ugly heap.

The portraits of successive heads of House Sobi looked down on him. Likewise, Zoin regarded Darius with the cold eyes one might give a pebble by the roadside.

From every direction, the reaper’s black gaze pierced Darius through.

Hyperventilating, clutching his chest, Darius looked up at Zoin Sobi.

“…I believe life is precious. Needless killing is wrong. But when your mother conceived your younger brother—or your younger sister,”

Zoin’s gentle tone reached Darius’s ears like a sweet, syrupy curse.

“—it meant you would receive House Sobi’s curse, you know? Hmm?”

“Anyway, about Talidge-dono’s matter—it all worked out, Ains-dono.”

At dinner that evening, Kansas started the conversation.

Kansas had gone to the royal castle that afternoon to explain himself: Talidge, an attendant of House Sobi, had brought himself into House Brandy without his master’s consent, and Kansas had gone to offer an explanation for that.

His counterpart was His Majesty the King. Even so, Kansas had steeled himself for the need to negotiate forcefully, and he brought along the holy relic he had received from Ains as a gift—an escape route, an excuse he could present to His Majesty in these negotiations.

However, it seemed the matter had already been sorted out in some way before Kansas ever arrived at the castle. His argument was accepted far more smoothly than he had expected; after receiving only a token warning, the result ended in a letdown: effectively, no punishment at all.

“Which means Talidge can become my attendant without a single worry! You should be grateful—if you’re eating such a lavish meal right now, it’s all thanks to me.”

“Even if you say it like you’re proud while you’ve got crumbs all over your mouth… it doesn’t land. This master of mine just doesn’t feel like a master.”

Talidge paid no mind to table manners. He clattered noisily as he dug into the food, grabbed the wineglass with his hand, and poured it straight down his throat.

“You ought to learn some refinement. Your disgrace leads directly to insulting Lord Ains. You must understand that deeply—”

Sophia advanced her meal quietly, making only the smallest sounds.

Ains, Sophia, and Talidge—each in their own way. Smiling as he watched them, Kansas asked Ains a question.

“By the way, Ains-dono, the Sorcery Academy’s successful applicants should be announced soon, and you’ll be able to attend the academy. After that, what will you do?”

What Kansas was really asking was whether Ains had found value in the Sorcery Academy.

From the entrance exam, Ains had already grasped the academy’s overall level.

So Kansas was worried Ains’s interest in the Sorcery Academy might have cooled—worried he might decide not to attend as Laika’s attendant.

“That’s what I’ve been thinking about… After seeing the exam, I did wonder if going there would mean much for me, but it also feels hasty to decide without hearing even a single lecture.”

In other words, he wanted to at least attend once—to check the lectures, learn the level of instruction, and see what they actually taught.

“I’ve heard the academy cafeteria is delicious, you know? For Ains, that might be the more tempting part. I’ve been curious about it for ages.”

As if she had just remembered, Laika told Ains about the cafeteria’s strong reputation within the Sorcery Academy.

“True. I used to go there all the time when I was a student, and it was excellent even back then. Well, they say it’s because so many royal and noble sons and daughters attended the academy—they raised the food quality to match their standards.”

For that reason, the rumor that the chefs poured their skills into cafeteria food spawned more rumors, and it became something like a gateway for cooks in the Santia Kingdom. It was said that a cook who served for several years in the Sorcery Academy cafeteria would go on to make a name for themselves.

Naturally, the food quality had risen year after year.

“Basically, only students can use it, and even students’ parents can’t, except during academy events. I hear it gets booked far in advance. Of course, students come first.”

Kansas wrapped up.

Ains looked intensely interested—so much so he imagined it and had to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth.

“And the other thing I’m curious about is where students from not-so-wealthy families get their knowledge from. Yesterday, Sophia and I took a walk around the western part of the royal capital, but our only ‘haul’ was Talidge.”

“Does Talidge count as a ‘haul’?”

“The hell are you doing—picking a fight?”

A barb met with a barb. Sophia and Talidge immediately started bickering, but Ains ignored them.

Royal Capital Kirk was far too large to explore properly by strolling around.

So if Ains wanted to resolve what he was curious about, the quickest way was to ask the students directly.

That would spare him wasted effort and achieve his goal.

“If Ains-dono would attend the academy as Laika’s attendant, nothing could be more reassuring.”

“Well, we’ll see once I actually go to the Sorcery Academy. Besides, it’s not even decided yet that Laika passed.”

Ains looked at Laika with a slightly sardonic face, but Laika didn’t flinch—she was brimming with confidence in the exam content.

“What? Don’t tell me you want to work under me that badly, like a carriage horse?”

She even fired back.

Seeing Ains look fed up at Laika’s verbal jab, she snorted with laughter. Caught by her, Ains snorted too.

Watching the two of them calmly, Kansas sipped the tea Riste poured for him and settled himself.

Thus, the one-night storm Ains had whipped up—the storm that had struck Royal Capital Kirk—settled down.

But it was only a temporary calm. Wherever sorcerers gathered, when things turned rough, they could rage like a typhoon.