Part 8
Before returning, Liel burned the paper on which she had reflected on what had happened to her. Then she opened another drawer beside the desk. There was one thing she’d forgotten while steadying her shattered mind after using Harmonia to come back. With a small click, the drawer opened to reveal a small leather case.
“It seems there’s been some backlash.”
With the corners of her mouth drooping, she took out the leather case and opened it. Inside were four or five mana stones gleaming with iridescent light. Liel chose the smallest among them, set it on her palm, and sent mana into it. She focused her mind and poured all her attention into infusing the stone, but it only flickered briefly and then went still.
“Ha.”
Hollow disappointment washed over her. Given the nature of Harmonia—an ability verging on a cheat—it was only natural there would be a price. But to think that price would be the loss of mana. Compared to having saved her life and returned, it was cheap enough—yet the heaviness in her chest would not lift.
In the Tigris family, full of knights, those who used magic were exceedingly rare. The house was an old, storied martial line in the kingdom, and it was an unwritten rule that Tigris children put a sword in their hands first. In such a house, having someone who could use magic to a decent degree was a boon.
“So they stripped away a half-baked talent entirely.”
Liel bit her lower lip askew and muttered. She pressed a hand to her brow, her fingers drumming uneasily on the desk. She recalled the moment she used Harmonia. She had felt as if all power were being sucked into the necklace clenched in her hand—but she hadn’t imagined that power was her own magic. It occurred to her that perhaps that was why Harmonia had been passed down as a family treasure for generations.
Tiger’s Eye was reputed the finest of mana stones. To use Harmonia, which was made of Tiger’s Eye, one would need mana to match. In an ancient knightly house, it would be vanishingly rare for a head of house to be a mage with substantial power.
“…Let’s just say it’s for the best.”
It wasn’t as if she intended to make a living with magic anyway. She put the mana stones back into the case and closed it. Her magic had been so feeble it was barely enough to trigger a mana stone—no reliable card to play. Nor was she rumored to have any deep mastery of the arcane.
“My lady.”
In the late afternoon, Jane returned to her mistress, Liel. Her cheeks were flushed and she was panting lightly, a bright smile on her lips.
“Looks like you found something.”
“Of course. When I said you had your eye on the place, the shopkeeper was absolutely delighted!”
“Really? That’s good.”
“They were worried because their shop’s in a poor location and rather shabby, but since a young lady of the Count’s house favored them—well, look at this!”
Jane opened the bag slung over her shoulder and spread out what she’d brought for Liel to see: papers with dress designs, and even sketches of jewelry that would suit the dresses. Clearing her throat primly, Jane produced a small box and offered it to Liel.
“Even I can tell this would suit you perfectly, my lady.”
“What is it?”
“The owner said this jewelry would look lovely on you—if you wear it next time you come, it’ll be perfect to match with the dress,” she said with cheerful patter.
Liel asked if it was all right to hand over fine jewelry in advance, but Jane said it was fine—she’d already left a deposit. Relenting under Jane’s persistence, Liel opened the little box. Inside was a necklace: tiny white pearls and pale sky-blue sapphires intricately entwined. As she examined it, Liel noticed something at once. The surface of the pearls lacked clarity and luster; they were, in fact, dull.
“Hm.”
“How is it? I knew my eye wasn’t wrong,” Jane said.
“They deliberately gave us a counterfeit. The real necklace must be quite expensive.”
“Pardon? What—!”
“They might be testing me.”
“What sort of shop does that? I went out of my way to tell them you liked it, and they pull this! My lady, shall we choose another place?”
“No. I like the designs they sent. We’ll use them.”
Hooking the necklace over a finger, Liel smiled faintly. For a dress shop to test a buyer—this was no ordinary boutique. Had they tested Dyina when she bought her dress as well? She couldn’t know, but since Dyina had continued purchasing exclusively from the Caladea shop ever since buying her debut dress there, there had to be a reason.
“Oh, and Jane—send this letter, please. It’s my reply to the one Kyle sent.”
“Yes, my lady!”
Jane stepped out to dispatch the letter Liel handed her, and Liel carefully reviewed the dress designs Caladea had sent. In the past, around the autumn festival, Caladea had begun to gain renown after Dyina bought a dress there. Liel recalled what Dyina had said then:
“They moved to the capital starting with this year’s debutante season. Back then their location wasn’t good, so not many people knew them.”
But she hadn’t said where the shop was. Turning the pages of designs one by one, Liel stopped. A dress that suited her taste caught her eye—a silhouette that spread bright as petals, in deep navy blended with pale sky-blue. Fake though it was, the jewelry Caladea had sent matched this dress best of all. Holding the necklace, she sat at her vanity and murmured to the reflection in her mirror:
“Dyina, now it’s my turn to take what’s yours—one by one.”
Sweeping her inky, wave-like long hair behind an ear, Liel draped the necklace over the back of her hand and smiled, razor-thin. She still feared clasping it around her throat. The very thought of that tightening sensation raised gooseflesh. Her brow creased delicately, then smoothed again.
Her eyes—blue so cold they hurt—stormed like crashing waves, then quieted, rippling shallowly like a calm sea. Over Liel’s cool smile, the old words nobles had once whispered about her fell like snow: “Look at that—doesn’t she seem truly a villainess?”
Only, the villainess was no longer her.
It was time for the one who had branded the good as villainess to become the villainess herself.
Liel began adapting to the present with remarkable speed. As if to make up for ten days lost, she set about committing to memory information on the attendees of the upcoming ball at the House of Nobillis.
“All the foremost nobles are attending.”
“Naturally—no ball is grander than the one hosted by the Nobillis ducal house. People are apparently desperate for an invitation.”
“Understandable. The House of Futania doesn’t hold balls.”
There were two ducal houses in the kingdom: Nobillis and Futania. Futania had an air of being removed from society and did not mingle much with other nobles; many said their only nobility was in name.
“Why doesn’t the House of Futania host balls, I wonder?”
“Well… I’m curious about that, too.”
“In any case, I hope you’ll be the toast of the season this year, my lady. You haven’t been back in the capital long, but it’s your first ball since returning.”
“With Jane’s help, there’s nothing I can’t manage.”
“Of course—I’ll support you in every way. You lack nothing, my lady; this year will go splendidly.”
Jane clenched her fist and told her not to worry, eyes shining with resolve. Liel chuckled at Jane’s exaggerated gesture. Whenever Liel betrayed the slightest anxiety, Jane would immediately put on a comical act to ease her mind—some things never changed. Seeing the smile touch Liel’s lips, Jane sighed in relief and continued:
“With so many young gentlemen eager to ask you to dance, let’s just hope a brawl doesn’t break out.”
“It won’t be that bad, Jane.”
“My lady, you do need to have confidence.”
Watching Jane seem more excited than the person concerned, Liel smiled softly. Next to her mother, the Countess, the person she trusted and relied on most was Jane. Gazing at her steadfast ally, Liel set the papers in her hand aside.
“All right. I’ll have confidence—and if they compete to ask me, I’ll mediate so it doesn’t turn into a fight.”
“Excellent attitude, my lady.”
“Besides, if I’m with Kyle, plenty of people will try to talk to us anyway. There are many nobles who’d like to get in with the House of Aemos.”
“Oh! And Young Master Ian is finally returning to the capital as well.”
“Ian?”
Liel tilted her head. Ian hadn’t so much as shown his nose even at her debutante ball—was he truly coming to the capital? Was this, too, Harmonia’s influence? Even small shifts could alter the future she remembered; she would have to be careful.
“I don’t know the details, but I heard the master summoned him. He went straight to the northern roughlands after graduating the knight’s academy, so it’s been hard to see him. You’ll be meeting after a long while, my lady.”
“That’s true.”
At the mention that her father had called him, Liel pinched her temples, a faint frown knitting her brow. No doubt he was making his own plans to check the House of Fisher. Seeing Liel’s expression cloud, Jane offered tea to lighten the mood and joked:
“With the young master returning, I hope you two won’t start fighting again.”
“As if we would.”
“You always say that, but the moment Young Master Ian arrives, you two are at it again.”
“We won’t this time.”
She’d squabbled often with her one and only brother, Ian, but she owed a debt now—so she’d resolved not to. Liel sipped her tea, then set the cup down as if something had occurred to her.
“If only Ian would nag a little less, that would be perfect.”
“Anyone would think I’m the nag here.”
At the knock and sudden entrance of a stranger, Liel and Jane sprang up from the sofa. Patchy dark stubble along the jaw, a mop of hair cut who knew when, and beneath it, vivid, fierce amethyst eyes. Liel parted her lips and ventured cautiously:
“Ian?”
“That’s right. It’s me, your exasperating brother.”
Leaning on the door and smirking, Ian had barely finished when Liel rushed to him and threw her arms around him. Startled, Ian tried his best to pry her off.
“What did you eat wrong? What’s with you? I thought you’d slap me.”
“…I’m happy, that’s all. Happy to see you.”
“If you’re twice as happy, you’ll make a scene. Don’t go leaping into other men’s arms like that.”
“I’m not that kind of person.”
“Why not try it with Kyle, then?”
Ian jerked a thumb over his shoulder and snickered. A man who’d been hidden behind him stepped forward—tall, broad-shouldered, with soft blond hair and clear teal eyes. The moment she saw him, Liel’s tears fell.
“It’s been a while, Liel.
