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Trails of Wrought Iron [Sen no Kiseki/Trails of Cold Steel Genderswap]

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School Days 1
  • Sidestory
    • School Days 1​

    Before the Celdic Field Study
    After her first afternoon as part of the lacrosse club, Ellia could say that Emily hadn't been kidding about Theresia. The blonde noble had run the newcomers through the ringer as she and Emily demolished them in a practice match.

    The funny thing was that while Emily talked pretty tough, she was actually rather gentle in how she instructed them. Theresia preferred to demonstrate why their mistakes were mistakes physically, and repeatedly.

    All in all, Ellia was bruised and exhausted by the time Emily called it for the day. Even so, it didn't hurt as much as the flying cat that first day.

    It wasn't that Ellia liked pain–it had hurt a lot–but she needed to get used to it.

    'I knew this wasn't going to be easy. But if I'm going to stand on my own, I'm going to have to push through!'

    "Are you alright, Ellia?" Theresia asked, her polite, noble demeanor returning now that they were not playing lacrosse.

    "I'm fine!" Ellia replied, pumping her fist excitedly, ignoring the screaming of her muscles. "That was fun!" 'What did I get myself into?'

    She smiled and nodded as best she could, then stumbled back to her dormitory, cursing the person who had assigned them one so far away the whole time.

    Opening the door took far more effort than it should have, and then she saw the stairs. Ellia thought about it for a moment, then collapsed on the couch nearby, losing consciousness almost immediately.

    She woke up feeling like crap, pulled out of slumber by the sound of thumping.

    "Guuuh…" Her eyes blinked open blearily, the room swimming blurrily in her vision.

    Her limbs felt like lead, but she was too thirsty to stay where she was–

    'Ow. That's the floor.'

    Trying not to let the pain deter her, Ellia crawled up into a sitting position against the couch, her vision finally focusing to see…a cup of water with a straw in it?

    "Drink."

    "Wha…?" Ellia blinked, looking up to see the young, silver haired member of her class holding the cup of water.

    "Dehydrated. Drink. Now."

    Ellia did not have to be told again, and the relief as the cool liquid washed down her throat felt great.

    "Thanks," she muttered, gathering enough strength to hold the half-empty cup herself.

    Fion nodded. "Drunk?" He shook his head. "Wrong smell."

    "No," Ellia mumbled back, before taking another drink. "Lacrosse."

    "What's that?"

    "...a sport…slurp"

    "...What's that?"

    Ellia blinked. "You…don't know what sports are?"

    "I think it's a game?" Fion shrugged. "Never played."

    "Uh…" Ellia stared at him, setting the now empty cup on the floor. "You run around with nets to throw and catch a ball, then try to get it in the other team's goal."

    "...Cool, I guess." Fion turned around and walked back to his punching bag.

    Ellia hauled herself onto the couch, then tried to stand, fighting off the sudden wave of nausea to stumble over to the kitchen and pour herself more water.

    A few minutes and several cups of water later, she was starting to feel like a functioning person again. Enough to remember that they had homework, much to her dismay.

    She stepped back into the dorm lobby, where Fion was still jabbing at his punching bag.

    Ellia watched curiously as the young boy struck out fluidly, never wasting any movement. 'I don't know much about him. But the way he holds himself reminds me a bit of dad and Neithardt.'

    Her face morphed into a frown. 'But he's too young to be a military recruit, right? So how is he so good at this?'

    Fion paused, turning to look at her questioningly, and Ellia realized she'd been staring.

    'Aaah, what do I do?!' "Um…" she mumbled. Fion tilted his head curiously. 'Aah, cute! Wait no!' "...Could you…help me train?"

    "No."

    "Wait, please! I don't want to fail the practical exam!"

    "I meant not now," Fion replied. "You're too tired."

    Ellia paused. Now that she thought about…she could barely walk straight. He was probably right. "Tomorrow?"

    "Maybe."

    "Ok, see you then."

    "Ok."

    The ginger girl stumbled over to the… 'Oh right. The stairs. Crap.'

    Julia Albarea was a proud, noble woman, perhaps reaching the point of arrogance, that much she was willing to admit, though she was definitely not the most pompous noble out there by a long shot.

    Perhaps it was simply her unusual experience, but she saw little to be proud of in regards to her lineage. She respected the duty being spawned from the line of Kreuzen's rulers represented, but in what she knew of their family history, there was a remarkable lack of proper ruling in recent generations.

    Even if there was, what was there to be proud of? She had not been present during any of the notable deeds of her ancestors, and their actions were no credit to her.

    It wasn't that she scoffed at lineage, per se, or else she would have thought Lawrence an utter fool instead of just a normal fool, but she saw only expectations, not honor.

    'There I go again.' Julia huffed, shaking her head, striding out of the Upper Class dorms a bit more hastily than might be considered polite. 'I should have known better than to accept an invitation to the lounge, even if Theresia had no ulterior motive.'

    The daughter of the Baron of Bareahard had been very welcoming when Julia had first met her, despite all the rumors. Theresia had not put much thought into what she had heard, and had simply helped guide Julia through the subtleties of noble courtesies.

    'It is rather funny how such a stuck up pair managed to produce and raise such a humble daughter. Now if only she had decided to socialize in a place where there weren't a bunch of useless nobles propositioning me.'

    To be fair, it had not been nearly as insipid as any event in Bareahard or the like. Thors was an academy with high standards, so there were fewer useless clout chasers, but it was still rather annoying to be fawned over like some kind of prized horse.

    'I think I might even prefer the ones drooling over my looks. At least my looks are mine, not my father's.' Julia stopped short, cursing herself for reaching that point.

    In her distracted meandering, she had ended up near the gardens. She wasn't a part of the club, but it was quiet, so it was a fine place to get away–

    'Why was Emmet here? Wasn't he part of the occult club?'

    The really unfairly pretty man was crouched over a patch of soil, pouring some water on a sprouting plant. For once, he wasn't wearing his usual disinterested frown. Not quite a smile, but he looked more at peace.

    "What are you up to now, Millstein?"

    Julia was snapped out of her thoughts as Ferris marched over to Emmet, a determined look on her face.

    'Have I been staring at him this whole time? Damn, I must be really out of it.'

    Fortunately, it seemed neither Ferris nor Emmet had noticed.

    "You clearly know what I am doing," Emmet muttered. "Why ask?"

    "Did you at least get permission from Edel for that?" Ferris continued, standing over the Emmet, trying her best to look assertive.

    "Sure," Emmet shrugged. "This is mine anyways."

    "What is this 'it' you mean in the first place?" Ferris asked.

    "A plant," Emmet answered flatly, not bothering to look up at the young noble speaking with him.

    "I know that!" Ferris exclaimed. "What kind of plant is it?"

    "Why do you care?" Emmet snapped back, standing up to his full height and glaring down at the purple haired noble, the setting sun glinting off his glasses dangerously.

    "I'm…just curious…" Ferris stumbled, "that's all!"

    "I have a hard time believing that when you've been stalking me for two weeks," Emmet remarked mildly, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

    "I have not been stalking you!" Ferris cried, stomping her feet petulantly.

    "This was not exactly what I had in mind when I suggested talking to my classmates if you wished to get to know them, Ferris," Julia drawled, finally entering the conversation.

    "Wha–Julia?! How long have you been there?" Ferris sputtered.

    "Long enough," Julia replied, making her way over. "I was taking a stroll and happened to overhear you." 'Perhaps I can avoid any embarrassment from–'

    "That was quite a lot of standing still for a stroll," Emmet observed.

    'Or perhaps not.' Julia shrugged. "I will admit I was also curious, though more in regards to why, rather than what."

    Emmet raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Didn't think you were the nosy type."

    "I am a noble lady," Julia shot back with a faux haughty air. "Being nosy is in my job description!"

    "J-julia!" Ferris hissed, giving her an annoyed look.

    "Your words, not mine," Emmet snorted, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Though I fail to see why my reasons for planting flowers would be of any interest to you."

    'Flowers, huh?'

    "Flowers?!" Ferris cried. "What do you need flowers for?!"

    "And here I thought noble girls were supposed to be cultured," Emmet scoffed. He looked annoyed, but his eyes flicked between the two other students suspiciously.

    'There are relatively few reasons a man would be planting flowers…'

    "So you are planning on courting someone!" Ferris declared, pointing at the purple haired man accusingly. Emmet stared blankly at her, face betraying no visible reaction, but Julia had heard enough.

    "Ferris. Drop it."

    "H-huh? But Lady Julia–"

    "Drop. It."

    Ferris clammed up under Julia's flat glare.

    "We apologize for disturbing you." Julia dipped her head contritely towards Emmet. "We will leave you be. Thank you for indulging our curiosity." She turned and gestured for Ferris to follow her.

    The Florald hesitated for a moment, before leaving Emmet to his business and padding after the Albarea.

    "Julia, I almost had him!" Ferris hissed. "If I figured out who the flowers were for–"

    "The only time most men care about flowers are when courting or at funerals," Julia cut her off. "And they usually are too impatient about the former to grow their own."

    The purple haired girl stumbled slightly as she stopped suddenly, face flushing red in embarrassment. "Oh no, I've made a right fool of myself, haven't I?"

    "Your words, not mine," Julia smirked.

    "Gah! Now I have to apologize!" the flustered Florald cried. "And this is even more evidence that he's a noble bastard, but now there's no way he's going to answer my questions!"

    'If that's what you're worried about. I don't really see why he should.'

    Julia had not slowed down, and Ferris suddenly realized the blonde noble was suddenly quite far away.

    "Wait! Julia!" she cried. "Damn it! I will not lose to you!"


    As different as Erebonia was to Nord, one thing that Gaia found surprisingly similar was the prevalence of weapons. It was not exactly the same, as while almost all Nords learned to fight to some degree, as often necessitated by the dangers of living in the untamed Highlands, most Erebonians did not live life with the expectation that they would have to fight at some point.

    Even among the ones who did train martially, there were many who viewed it as a form of prestige or physical exercise, rather than a necessity. And then there were those for whom fighting was even more part of their way of life than for the Nord, like Lawrence and Emmet, though Gaia was fairly certain neither of them were exactly representative of Erebonia as a whole.

    Taking all that into consideration, it was not that surprising that Erebonians hardly paid attention to other citizens who were armed, or that there were plenty of stores selling weapons and ammunition. Unfortunately for her, with the advances made in orbal weaponry, arrows were not among the commonly stocked wares, nor was it particularly easy to buy the right kind of materials to make them herself.

    Turns out old man Gwyn was more thoughtful than Gaia had assumed when he had given her the orbal bow, even if she had very little idea how to maintain it. It had proved quite useful in the dungeon under the school, the nature of the ammunition allowing her to shoot faster than with conventional arrows, not to mention having to account for less drop off.

    However, Gaia had noticed the arrows tended to drift off course, and she did not know enough about this weapon to say for sure if this was normal or if there was something out of alignment.

    To make matters worse, this was apparently a prototype weapon, so even most of the Engineering club did not know much about how it worked.

    It wasn't that they were incompetent, but they seemed quite hesitant to try anything with the bow got some reason. It was not volatile or the like, was it?

    In any case, Gaia found herself in the Engineering Club building, carefully examining her weapon herself, for whatever it was worth.

    It was a rather strange thing to work on, with the string serving more of a guide than actual propulsion, which meant quite a few of her shooting techniques were unnecessary or flat out could not work.

    Furthermore, the bow generated arrows centered through a hole in the limb rather than nocked to one side as in a traditional one, and the arrows formed as she pulled backwards on the string. This mechanism was beyond her limited understanding of orbal technology, which left her in quite a conundrum.

    It worked for now, and she had her more traditional bow and her hunting knives if it failed. But it still felt wrong to her to neglect this weapon.

    The door to the building clattered open as Elisha stumbled in, carrying several boxes stacked on top of each other. For a moment Gaia moved to help him, but despite his jerky movements he managed to set them down safely near a workbench. He then spent about a minute making sure the boxes were exactly aligned with each other.

    Gaia observed her classmate with bemusement. Her class overall had quite a few colorful characters, but Elisha was a more confusing one. Even with Masha and Julia's tempers, no one in her class was as…erratic as Elisha was. And yet, there was a method to his madness…and no one more familiar with orbal technology, except maybe George.

    "Excuse me, do you have a moment, Elisha?" Gaia called.

    "Yeah, assuming I don't drop dead right this second…" Elisha paused expectantly, turning to look at her. "Yup, I have a moment."

    Gaia blinked, but decided not to address his eccentricity. "Would you mind having a look at this bow? The arrows are drifting slightly to the right and I am unsure how to determine the cause."

    "Sure, I'll take a look." The blond man walked over to her workstation and picked up the bow, examining it with a familiarity Gaia had only ever seen from old man Gwyn.

    With practiced motions, Elisha disassembled the weapon, almost faster than Gaia could follow, checking for some indicator that she was unaware of.

    "Yup, looks like one of the emitters for the arrows is out of alignment," he declared. "Should be fixed now. What happened to it? Did you smack a monster with it or something?"

    Gaia shook her head. "No, I have my knives for that. I believe it may have been bumped during my journey on the train while in the luggage."

    "Hmm…could be," Elisha mused. "The case for it should be pretty good at cushioning it, and it shouldn't be that finicky…nah." He shook his head. "There'd be something more significant if it was something like that. When did you start noticing that?"

    "I am not entirely sure," Gaia admitted. "I did test it back home when I received it, and I did not notice any issues then. It only became noticeable to me while we were under the Old Schoolhouse during the orienteering exercise, and has gotten slightly worse since."

    "Do you store it in the case? Or do you hang it up like you would a normal bow?" Elisha asked.

    "Like a more traditional bow," Gaia replied. "Was that an error?"

    "Yeah, not a big problem, necessarily, but that could explain this," Elisha explained. "This thing is denser than a normal bow, so the weight could be enough to tweak something out of alignment if you hang it like you would a normal bow. Could also be the temperature and humidity variation."

    "Is orbal technology truly so sensitive?" Gaia wondered. "It seems too widely used for that to be true."

    "Nah, it's not the orbal mechanism itself," Elisha replied. "It's some of the seats for the lens and the like. This thing is basically an orbal gun but vivisected and propped up on display like a skeleton in a museum, so that means the stuff for forming the projectile is more exposed to the elements than an orbal gun. Makes it more finicky that way, but you got more finesse for adjusting things if you know what you are doing."

    "Which you clearly do," Gaia pointed out. "Have you worked on one of these before? No one else seems to have, not even George."

    Elisha shrugged and nodded, before freezing, staring down at the reassembled weapon for a long second.

    "Where…did you get this?" he asked, voice dangerously soft.

    "I was gifted it by an elderly Erebonian man who seems to have retired to the Highlands," Gaia answered evenly, a few things clicking together in her mind. "He is quite adept with technology, and has helped my clan in regards to the few devices we have on multiple occasions. When he learned of my plan to attend Thors, he gave me this because of his now evidently accurate assessment that finding arrows would be more difficult here."

    "An old Erebonian man, huh?" Elisha muttered. "Did he also say something about how a pretty girl should have a pretty weapon or something?"

    "Yes, actually…" Gaia noted with some surprise. "How did you know?"
    "...That old bastard!" the blond man cursed. "Of course he did."

    "That does not answer my question," Gaia pointed out gently.

    "Huh? Oh yeah." Elisha shrugged. "I made this bow. Well, me and Gramps, before he up and disappeared after getting kicked out by dear old Mom. Always wondered where this boondoggle disappeared to."

    "Would you like it back?"

    "What? Nah." Elisha shook his head. "I got my own stuff now. Stuff I'm not letting anyone else know how to work, so I don't really care about this thing. You're probably better with it anyways."

    There was a bitterness in his tone that suggested the bow was more important to him than he was pretending. Truly, old man Gwyn was a thoughtless individual.

    "I may have more experience using a bow than you, but clearly you added many more features than I am aware of," Gaia remarked. "Would you mind demonstrating a few of them, as well as point out any other tasks I will need to perform to keep it in good shape?"

    "Sure! It's yours now, I guess," Elisha replied. "Though we'll have to go somewhere else if we want to test the explosive arrow mode."

    'The what…?! On second thought, I should not have been surprised.'

    The two of them ended up getting detention for firing explosives into the pond, but Gaia felt that she now understood Elisha's fascination, at least to some extent.


    For all that Thors was a prestigious and meritocratic school, it was still poisoned by the longstanding rot of noble influence. Aside from the separation of school classes by social class and the display of unearned wealth and influence that was the upper class dorms, there was also this absurd delineation in only the chess club!

    Admittedly, Masha had some mixed feelings about it, since the divide meant she could mostly engage in one of her favorite pastimes without interacting with stuck up nobles, on the other hand, the smug attitudes of the nobles in their own little club was very grating.

    The fact that they were, on average, better than the members of the "lower" class chess club did not help matters at all.

    It wasn't that Stefan, the current head of the real chess club, was bad–he was actually pretty decent–but it seemed like a lot of the other members had only picked up the game at Thors, rather than playing it before.

    It seemed that chess was more of a noble's or rich men's game than Masha had realized, which bothered her quite a bit, especially with that damned Albarea's taunting.

    Even if her father was the Imperial Governor, it wasn't like they were anywhere near as wealthy as low ranking nobles or even rich merchants. Father had reached his position by his governing ability, not riding the coattails of his parents or with bribery!

    But that did not change the fact that their chess club would need to get quite a bit better if they wanted to show up the snobby nobles, and unfortunately, it turned out that aside from Stefan, the rest of the club was more ambivalent about the whole competition and weren't that interested in extra practice. Even Stefan could only play so many games before having to leave to work on schoolwork, leaving Masha without an opponent.

    And while she hadn't said it aloud, Stefan had been getting sloppier as the games went on. Not to mention that playing only against one person wouldn't help her improve much in the long run, unless they were a master of the game, and even then, some variety in the challenge could be useful.

    To be fair, though, it was getting rather late in the day, with time having gotten away from her, and she had her own studies to focus on as well, not to mention dinner. So here she was, eating a quick bite at the Student Union cafe before heading back to the dorms to study.

    It was fairly noisy, as there were a number of students also eating there, but it wasn't too bad. Heimdallr was much noisier.

    Unfortunately, her peace and quiet was disrupted as a few members of the swim club entered the building, particularly, the giant menace of a man that was Lawrence.

    Masha tensed, trying not to think about the ease with which the oversized noble had slaughtered the monsters in his path, and how easily he could do the same to people who got in his way. Him being disturbingly genial only made it worse, and she just could not help but worry about when the other shoe would drop.

    And now he saw her.

    Why was he getting closer?!

    "Good evening, Miss Regnitz," he said way too loudly, "how have you been today?"

    "Fine," Masha replied, avoiding eye contact and staring down at the table in front of her, pretending to be engrossed with her meal or her chess set.

    "Oh, were you playing chess?" Lawrence asked. "How did that go?"

    "Fine," Masha insisted, hoping her disinterest would make him leave her alone. What was he even trying to accomplish?!

    "That poorly?" the tall noble remarked. "Surely there are some people here who could offer you a challenge. I believe that the Principal and Vice Principal are quite skilled."

    "You expect me to challenge them to a chess match?" Masha snorted, glaring up at the absurdly tall noble. "They have better things to do."

    "They are undoubtedly busy," Lawrence conceded, "but even they have to take a break sometimes, though I suppose the Vice Principal can be somewhat difficult on occasion."

    "On occasion?" Mashe grumbled. She hated to agree with the oversized noble, but at least he was nowhere near as insufferable as that pompous stick in the mud that was their Vice Principal.

    "On many occasions," Lawrence admitted. "But that is beside the point. I am no expert at the game of chess, but if you are in need of an opponent, I would be willing to serve as one."

    'Just say no, then he will leave. It's not worth it. Just say no.'

    "Are you even any good?" Masha shot back, narrowing her eyes.

    'Damn it! I can't let this challenge go unanswered.'

    "Not particularly," Lawrence replied, "but having different opponents helps with practice, does it not?"
    'I really just had to complain about that, didn't I?'

    "You're on!"

    As it turned out, he wasn't lying, he really wasn't that great. Theoretically, he was worse than Stefan, sometimes trading more valuable pieces for weaker ones or other nonsensical moves like that. That allowed her to build a convincing lead, but his bizarre playstyle kept throwing her for a loop, and Masha found that she was struggling to predict his next move.

    She traded a rook for his queen, leaving him with mostly pawns. Normally, her opponent would either forfeit or start showing signs of defeat at this board state, but Lawrence was unruffled.

    Masha grimaced. She was winning, but for some reason, it didn't feel satisfying.

    Then Lawrence promoted a pawn…into a knight?

    'What the hell is he doing?!'

    To make matters worse, in her confusion, she missed a dangerous move and lost her queen to said knight.

    She clenched her teeth.

    She had underestimated him.

    Even if he was clearly a musclehead, he wasn't entirely stupid, and that made him even more dangerous.

    Still, she was in a commanding lead, even if she found it suddenly tricky to threaten his king and prevent his pawns from promoting, that wasn't enough to allow him to win, especially if he remained oddly willing to sacrifice his promoted pieces.

    Shifting her remaining rook into place, Masha smirked as she cut off his king's movement options–

    "Well, I can make no more legal moves," Lawrence declared, "that makes it your victory. Well played!" He offered his ridiculously large hand, and Masha reflexively shook it, trying her best not to cringe as her much smaller hand was engulfed by something that could crush her like a twig.

    'At least he can take defeat gracefully–'

    As the tall noble left, Masha stared blankly at the board.

    It wasn't checkmate.

    She had blocked his few remaining pawns, and almost trapped his king.

    It was a stalemate.

    Masha packed up her things calmly, walked the long way back to their dormitory calmly, returned to her room calmly, then proceeded to scream into her pillow at the indignity of it all.
    AN. Some scenes between Class VII that Irene would not be privy to.
    Thanks to @LordOfChange for help in proofreading.
     
  • Sidestory
    • You know Masha, if you take that giant chip off your shoulder you'll have a much easier time.

    Ellia is a cute

    Julia sounds like she's going to snap one day and it's going to be glorious

    GaiaxElishaxExplosion OT3?
     
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    8. Heartbeat of Spring
  • Threadmarks
    • Heartbeat of Spring​

    After the hectic events of their field study, a return to normal academic pursuits felt like a nice change of pace to Irene, even if their studies did not slow down in the slightest. The material was significantly more challenging than Sunday School or St. Astraia, though there were no etiquette classes at Thors, which was to be expected.

    The cooking class was also quite a bit different than at her previous school, as there was actually an expectation that the students do much of the preparation themselves, but that was fine with Irene, since that's what Mother liked to do and she was the best cook Irene knew.

    Gaia had some trouble at first, because a lot of the cooking tools were unfamiliar to her, but it was quite clear that she must have helped her family cook as well.

    That actually seemed to be true of all the Class VII girls, though Ellia and Masha looked a bit confused that Julia proved an expert.

    To be fair, Irene had been a bit surprised herself, but in context it made sense that Julia had once helped her mother cook, and with her uncle being a chef, it wasn't that surprising that she became quite good at it.

    "She's got to be cheating somehow," Masha muttered darkly to herself, looking at Julia's work enviously. "There's no way a blue blood knows how to cook like that."

    "Yes, I am clearly a maid disguised as Julia," the blonde noble remarked drily, "because I care enough about a cooking class grade to bother cheating."

    "Julia!" Irene chided her gently. "Please don't make light of our schoolwork."

    "We both know you would rather be cooking game meat than making baked goods," Julia shot back.

    "W-well, yes, but that is not the point!" Irene returned. "And I made treats for Elise plenty of times."

    "Man, those two make me feel insecure sometimes," Ellia mumbled under her breath. "They're somehow both more manly and more feminine than me."

    "We can't let them show us up!" Masha hissed.

    "Is cooking supposed to be only feminine?" Gaia wondered. "As far as I know, everyone needs to eat. Though I suppose my mother is quite a bit better at it than my father."

    "You're doing fine, you two!" Irene called. "Don't worry so much about who makes the food, think about what it will taste like."

    Masha grumbled, but refocused on the task at hand.

    "Oh good, you are capable of being quiet," Julia snipped petulantly.

    "What? Did my voice offend your delicate ears?!" Masha bit back, now distracted again.

    "Mine and everyone else's," Julia snarked back.

    "Girls!" Irene snapped. "Enough of this! I know you both care about your grades, so stop giving the instructor reasons to dock points!"

    The two girls glared at her, but decided she had a point, so focused back to the task at hand.

    "Well, guess that's why they put Irene into the special class," Ferris murmured from the other side of the room.

    "Isn't her father–well, adopted father–a baron?" a girl Irene didn't recognize whispered. "How come Lady Albarea is letting her order her around like that?"

    "It's really strange for the daughter of a duke to be in a mixed class with commoners," another girl murmured. "I am surprised the duke did not throw a fit over this."

    "That is none of our business!" Ferris snapped. "Just because the special class has Julia and Irene does not mean we will so easily accept defeat! Focus on your cooking, because you two clearly need to practice more."

    "Alright, alright! Calm down, Lady Florald, it is just some idle chatter," the first girl replied placatingly.

    "I must admit, I am more used to the servants cooking, but it is important to learn about the ins and outs of running a household," the second girl mused.

    "Can't they keep their unwanted opinions to themselves?" Masha grumbled lowly.

    "At least they aren't really talking about us," Ellia remarked.

    Masha just growled in annoyance.

    Irene frowned. It seemed like things had only gotten worse after the field study. Fion didn't seem to care, but even Gaia had been quite annoyed, and Emmet had basically stopped talking to any of the girls in their class.

    She let out a sigh, bringing her attention back to her food preparation. There was only so much she could do, but it had been weeks, and nothing had changed.

    Was there something that could be done?

    As class wrapped up for the last time this week, Instructor Valestein finished Homeroom off with a few announcements.

    "Don't forget! Your next practical exam will be the middle of next week!"

    "I'm gonna get it right this time!" Ellia mumbled determinedly to herself.

    "Oh, so that's why we needed to fix the spinny thing," Elisha muttered.

    "Are you going to pointlessly wait until then to explain the next field study?" Emmet asked flatly.

    "Yep! And don't give me that look, if I tell you about it now it just spoils the surprise!"

    "Are we supposed to be surprised?" Gaia asked curiously. "I would have thought in that case we would have been told where to go the morning of the field study instead of having a few days to prepare?"

    "Hey!" their instructor cried. "I didn't make the rules for this one. Also, you should know midterms are coming up in the middle of next month."

    "You mean the quarter terms?" Elisha asked.

    "I don't make the names for these things!"

    "Man, I feel like I'm never going to get a break," Ellia groaned.

    "It's a good thing to test what we've learned so far," Masha declared.

    "Joy," Fion drawled.

    "Does it also have a practical portion?" Lawrence asked, "or does this upcoming practical cover that as well."

    "Nah, those are separate things," Instructor Valestein explained. "School isn't only about hitting things, and if you don't do good I'll get another earful from Heinrich, so do your best!"

    "Does his approval matter that much to you?" Irene asked curiously, noting something down in her notebook.

    "Oi! Stop reading into stuff like that so much!"

    "I thought you did want us to listen to you?" Julia snarked.

    "Aaalright, that's enough for today!" their instructor called. "Try and have some fun on your free day! I know I will!"

    With that, she took her teaching material and left the classroom, much of the class following her out in short order.

    Irene did not immediately leave, taking a moment to read over her notebook. She wasn't entirely sure if Instructor Valestein genuinely disliked the vice principal, or if she was simply bad at expressing her feelings. Given the amount of time she spent complaining about him, both were possibilities. Not to mention she called him by his first name.

    "Hmm…you do know class is over, right Irene?" Julia's amused voice shook her out of her thoughts. "What are you so focused on anyways?"

    "Oh, nothing urgent," Irene replied, looking up to see both Julia and Lawrence still in the classroom. "I apologize if I kept you waiting."

    "It has been about one minute," Lawrence observed. "And we spent about half of that packing up ourselves. There's no need to apologize."

    "It's the principle of the matter!" Irene shot back, her face heating up. 'How is he able to embarrass people so easily?! It even works on Julia sometimes!'

    "Well, you were pretty focused on whatever it is, so it must be important," Julia concluded with an amused huff.

    "It is just another task our instructor requested from me," Irene explained. "Nothing too serious."

    "That woman takes advantage of your helpful nature far too much," Julia sighed. "While she is undoubtedly a skilled combat instructor, she is quite questionable otherwise. And why does she get away with flaunting the dress code anyways?"

    "I think you look plenty beautiful in a Thors uniform, Julia," Lawrence declared casually. "Though you might just upstage our instructor if you tried on clothes like that."

    Julia's eye twitched, and she shared a look of mutual exasperation with Irene, though the light dusting of pink on her cheeks proved she wasn't immune to flattery. Well, with Lawrence it wasn't flattery, he really meant it, even if there was nothing deeper to it.

    "Lawrence," Irene sighed, "you shouldn't say such things so forwardly. People might get the wrong idea."

    "They seem to do so regardless of what I say," the tall man countered, "so I will endeavor to speak the truth regardless."

    Julia turned away from him so he wouldn't see the growing flush on her face, and Irene stifled a giggle. It was a bit rude to laugh at her friend's embarrassment, but after all the teasing Julia put her through, it was a bit funny to see how easily she could become flustered herself.

    "Julia is one of prettiest girls on campus," Irene remarked lightly. "With all the noblemen fawning over her, you might even say she was the fairest of them all."

    "Oh, quiet you!" the blonde sniped back, even if she seemed to rather like the idea.

    "She has no shortage of competition," Lawrence mused, "but I would say you do have an edge over them, Julia. You as well, Lady Irene."

    "H-huh?!" Irene squeaked, burying her face in her hands.

    "Way to make a girl feel special there, Lawrence," Julia drawled with a roll of her eyes.

    "Technically, everyone is," Lawrence pointed out. "Even identical twins can be quite different, like Misses Linde and Vivi."

    "You have been around Elisha for too long," Julia grumbled. "I swear, that boy interprets everything literally unless it inconveniences you."

    "I…think that may be his attempt at humor," Irene murmured, peeking out from between her fingers.

    "...What."

    "Elisha seems to have trouble understanding people, so he acts a certain way that he knows will make others respond a certain way, maybe in a way that is easier to understand for him?" Irene explained.

    "You are insightful as ever," Lawrence complimented, "that does seem to match his usual behavior."

    "Huh, then he has a better poker face than I thought," Julia mused.

    "A-aside from that," Irene started, "do you have something you want to speak to me about? Maybe a request for the student council?"

    "Hmph, so I can't simply be having a chat with my friend?" Julia huffed in mock offense. "For shame!"

    "You did look more serious than usual," Lawrence observed.

    "Oh come now!" Julia sighed, taking a seat on one of the desks (was that Masha's?) and kicking her legs idly. "I'm not that obvious, am I?" (Yes it was.)

    "You usually prefer chatting with Lady Irene at our dormitory," Lawrence commented, "so there might be something else if you are willing to wait before getting on a horse."

    Julia huffed in annoyance at being seen through so easily, casually leaning backwards and propping herself up with her hands behind her. She did not dispute Lawrence's observation.

    "Why are you sitting like that?" Lawrence asked curiously.

    "Yes, it's quite improper, Julia," Irene chided.

    "Eh, I know I can let my hair down around you two, so to speak," Julia deflected with a shrug. "And fine, you got me, but it's really nothing serious."

    A mischievous glint sparked in her eye and Irene felt a shiver of worry at her expression.

    "So Irene," Julia drawled. "What's this I hear about running into a dungeon with four different boys? At the same time too! For shame! I didn't think you had it in you!"

    'Uh Bwah?!'

    "The principal assigned the task to her and she recruited us to assist her, is that so strange?" Lawrence returned.

    "But with all the boys in our class?" Julia pouted. "You shouldn't be so greedy, Irene. I am feeling rather neglected!"

    "It's nothing like that!" Irene objected, sure her face was red with embarrassment. 'Really Julia?! To imply…why?!'

    "To be fair, we did volunteer," Lawrence explained. "I wanted to see how good the Old Schoolhouse is for training, Elisha wanted to examine the strange devices we saw, and…on second thought, I am not certain why Emmet and Fion wanted to come along, but their motivation seemed similar to mine."

    "It's no fun when you put it that way," Julia sighed, before dismounting the desk legs first in a rather indecent manner.

    'Why are you like this?'

    "Was it supposed to be?" Lawrence asked, giving Julia a reproving look.

    "Not really, but you really make it too easy, Irene," Julia replied with a smirk. "All that aside, don't leave me out if you get sent on another expedition down there, ok? I want to see what all the fuss is about."

    "That was a rather circuitous way of asking about that," Lawrence murmured.

    'No kidding. It took him and Emmet all of five seconds.'

    "Oh, let me have my fun," Julia groused. "Besides, you look like you have something to ask, and you're taking just as much time."

    "Ah, right." Lawrence turned to Irene. "It occurred to me that we have yet to properly spar. I know you are quite busy, but would you be willing to humor me this weekend?"

    "I b-believe so," Irene replied, fighting down her nervous tic. 'I don't think I'd be much of a challenge, but…I do want to test myself.'

    "Look at you two, already planning an evening rendezvous," Julia snorted. "Should I be penning a letter to Baron Schwarzer about you starting to court someone?"

    "Julia!" Irene gasped.

    "That…isn't really your responsibility, is it?" Lawrence pointed out.

    "Oh, you don't think Irene is worth courting?" Julia shot back, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

    "Far from it," Lawrence returned evenly. "I will admit some surprise that no one is already doing so, but the point is that such a decision is ultimately hers."

    "Even if her father pushes her into it?" Julia muttered, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

    'Father wouldn't do that! So why…oh.'

    "Even so," Lawrence affirmed. "Though things become quite a bit more complicated in that case."

    Julia locked eyes with her tall friend for a good long while, before letting out a sigh and looking away. "Yeah, really complicated."

    "Though I am sure your brother will not let your father promise your hand to someone unworthy," Lawrence assured her.

    "You can't know that for sure," Julia muttered, though she looked like she wanted to believe it. "And don't you have a club to get to?"

    "I suppose I do," Lawrence agreed, glancing between the two noblewomen. "If you have something else you need to discuss, I will try and ensure no one interrupts you." He nodded at them. "Lady Julia, Lady Irene, have a good evening."

    After he left the room, Julia let out a long sigh and sprawled down on her back on top of Masha's desk. "Aidios damn it Lawrence."

    "Are you alright?" Irene asked hesitantly. Her friend did tend to relax more around her, but this was a bit much.

    "Mostly," Julia hedged, tilting her head to look at her friend. "It just gets a bit tiring, that's all."

    "Did you visit the noble lounge again?"

    "Theresia invited me again. Don't have the heart to tell her how much I hate it there."

    "She'll understand, I'm sure," Irene murmured encouragingly. "Besides, Theresia would be perfectly happy to meet you on the practice field or in the training room."

    "Not if she wants to talk," Julia grumbled. "You know how she and Friedel are about that kind of thing."

    Irene giggled. "They can be very single minded, yes."

    "Not that you have much room to talk, little miss sword maiden," Julia snickered.

    "I am not that bad!" Irene objected.

    "Yeah, you're not as overt about it," Julia conceded. "But you're still sword brain enough that Lawrence seems taken with you."

    "H-huh? What do you mean?"

    "You know what I am talking about," Julia smirked, spinning around and rolling over onto her stomach, bracing her chin on her hands and kicking her feet in the air. "He did just ask to spar with you."

    "Lawrence is interested in sparring with me because I practice a rarer style," Irene objected, "nothing more."

    "Maybe," Julia mused thoughtfully. "For a person as upfront as he is, it can be a bit tricky to figure out what Lawrence is thinking, buuut…"

    Irene did not like the look of her friend's cheshire grin. "But what?"

    "It's obvious that Lawrence is attracted to girls who are good with swords," Julia snickered.

    "Isn't he good friends with Theresia too?"

    "Or lances," Julia shrugged. "The consensus is that he'll only marry a fellow martial artist, at least among Kreuzen noble girls."

    "Who came up with that? Was Lawrence's mother a martial artist?" Irene asked thoughtfully. "I don't believe the Arseids have a tradition of marrying martial artists."

    Julia blinked. "Now that you mention it…I think his mother was more of a musician…huh. Maybe Bridget isn't as out of the race as she thought."

    "Isn't Bridget still carrying a flame for her childhood friend?"

    "They haven't seen each other for a few years and as liberal as the Falkenheims are, even they won't be eager to let their daughter marry a commoner, especially not one who doesn't have much money to speak of."

    "We're talking about Bridget, not her parents," Irene observed. "And as sensible as she usually is, I don't think she sees things that way."

    "She'll have to grow up eventually," Julia grumbled darkly.

    Irene frowned.

    "Was the reason you went to the noble lounge because your father suggested some more candidates?" She asked delicately.

    Julia stiffened, before deflating and slumping against the desk. "You are really too observant for your own good."

    "Oh…was it at least someone nice this time?" Now Irene felt a bit bad for bringing it up.

    "Honestly? Thors seems to have fewer idiots than Bareahard," Julia admitted, "but I know full well that Father has no intention of actually committing to anything. I'm much more valuable as a bargaining chip to keep his cronies in line."

    She tsked, hauling herself off the desk. "Once, I would have been happy just getting a letter from him, but now it's just requests to smile and bat my eyelashes at some stuck up son of some stuck up sycophant of his. Something about 'making good use of my accessory allowance' and whatnot."

    Irene watched nervously as her friend paced between the desks for a few moments, before sitting back down with an irritated huff, arms and legs crossed in a very unladylike posture.

    "I know there are countless people who would quite literally kill for a life like this," Julia whispered. "But I'm sick of feeling like a piece of meat dangled out there to keep the hounds baying."

    "I…can imagine how that must be uncomfortable," Irene agreed softly, slipping out of her chair to pull her friend into a hug. "Do you need me to ask Friedel to tell them off?"

    "What are you, my mom?" Julia snorted, but she did seem to be feeling a bit better. "I can handle a few simpering boys. At least these ones have enough brains not to try getting handsy."

    "If they do, I will make sure they regret it!" Irene declared, pulling back slightly to give her friend a determined look.

    Julia met her gaze for a moment, before looking to the side, an embarrassed look on her face. "Tch, look at me making an ass of myself. You're trying to help me, and here I am venting to you about having an excess of suitors when I know full well that you have hang ups about such matters."

    "I suppose?" Irene frowned. "That isn't really important right now though."

    "Right…You know…I've been wondering," Julia mused, giving Irene a searching look. "Why haven't you visited the lounge yourself? Given the number of girls from St. Astraia here, I doubt anyone would dare to make a fuss."

    "W-well," Irene began, "to be frank, I've been busy enough with school and student council work that I haven't really had the time."

    "Hmm…" Julia hummed, looking unconvinced. "I distinctly recall you making a list of eligible candidates, and I know at least a few of them frequent the lounge. Patrick is still an idiot though."

    Irene flushed in embarrassment. "That wasn't the point of that list! It was for Elise!"

    "Of course it was," Julia grumbled, sounding unconvinced.

    "You don't have to sound so skeptical," Irene pouted. "Quite a few of the people on the list would never consider me a viable option."

    "Pff! Their loss then," Julia dismissed. "Though maybe I'll be able to keep you all to myself."

    "Julia!"

    "Yeah, no chance, you'd run and try to help too many other people."

    "That's not a bad thing!" Irene objected mulishly.

    "It is if you drive yourself nuts doing it," Julia countered. "Though you actually seem a bit less stressed now than when you were at St. Astraia."

    "Believe it or not, the paperwork is less of a headache here," Irene explained. "And I am assisting Miss Herschel, not running something mostly by myself."

    "Riiight," Julia drawled, standing up again, looking ready to leave. "But I'm glad you aren't running yourself ragged." She smoothed out her uniform and checked the wall clock. "I better get going to riding club."

    "So Lambert isn't one of those boys you mentioned?"

    "No, Lambert would only care that much if I was a horse," Julia snickered. "Or Gaia, since she might as well be the next closest thing."

    "Julia! Don't be rude," Irene chided.

    "I'm just repeating what Lambert said," the blonde noble declared, raising her hands placatingly. "And Gaia wasn't offended anyways."

    Irene huffed, still giving her friend a disappointed look.

    "Don't you have student council work?" Julia pointed out, causing Irene to start.

    "Ah, yes! Oh no! I must have kept Miss Herschel waiting!" She quickly finished packing up her things and the two noblewomen finally left the classroom.

    Outside, they found Lawrence not too far away, talking to the strange photography club member, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else at the moment.

    'Did he really wait outside this whole time?'

    "I thought Fidelio had given that creep a good talking to," Julia scowled. "Then again, Lawrence might be more effective."

    Irene suddenly remembered what Miss Towa needed her to do, so she parted ways with Julia and hurried to the student council room.

    Against her expectations, President Herschel was not upset that Irene had not immediately gone to the student council room, having expected her to at least eat dinner first. With the whole conversation with Julia, that had slipped Irene's mind, and she was too embarrassed to tell Towa that she had been delayed for another reason, especially since the diminutive student council president also had yet to eat dinner.

    After having worked together for over a month, the two of them divided the work between them and set about getting it done. Irene again found herself impressed by Towa's organizational abilities, which was something she could certainly learn from.

    President Herschel seemed to have gotten gradually less haggard after Irene decided to help her, though the two of them still had to work late on occasion, since the other nominal members of the student council were not that dependable. It would be rude to speak ill of Marquis Rogner's daughter, but she seemed to be absolutely terrible at administrative work, and likely was on the roll to cheer Towa up, since the two of them seemed to be friends.

    Irene had a sneaking suspicion of how that came to be, but she was rather surprised that the straight-laced student council president would get along with the…unorthodox noblewoman. Irene also had other suspicions about just who was responsible for the current Thors female uniform.

    Lord Vincent Florald also was nominally a part of the student council, but he rarely stayed in the office long, always conveniently called away for one reason or another.

    Frankly, the fact that President Herschel could keep things running with such layabouts for subordinates was nothing short of extraordinary.

    "Have you figured out the requests for tomorrow, Irene?" Towa asked as they were getting towards the end of their tasks.

    "Mnh! There did not seem to be that many this week. Klein from the swimming club requested a substitute tutor for a kid he tutors, and Keynes from the bookstore needs several books delivered," Irene listed off. "Oh right! And Principal Vandyck says he had people reporting strange sounds from the Old Schoolhouse, so it seems like we will be braving it yet again." She paused thoughtfully. "Julia said she wanted to join this time, perhaps I should also approach other members of my class about it. The principal did state that it was an assignment for our class as a whole."

    "Now that you mention it, why did you go in with only half of your class last month?" President Herschel asked curiously. "Like you said, it was supposed to be for your class in general."

    "Well, the boys seemed really eager to venture into the unknown, and I was swept up in the excitement a bit," Irene admitted bashfully. "Fortunately, we were able to handle it."

    "Oh, that's good then!" Towa chirped. "I guess you do have pretty strong people in your class. I'd have a lot more trouble."

    "Do you even have time to train in between all the work you do?" Irene wondered. "I feel like I barely have time, and I don't do as much as you."

    "Um, I don't really plan on being a fighter," President Herschel mumbled, "so I don't have to practice that much."

    "Don't you still have combat training?" Irene pointed out.

    Towa nodded. "I do ok, but I'd really rather not have to fight."

    Irene hummed. She could somewhat understand. Her first steps on the path of the sword were more grasping for control than enthusiasm for battle.

    "I guess that makes sense. Most people nowadays don't have to get into fights. It's a bit different out in the country with the monster attacks though."

    Towa sighed, but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's true. I don't think I'll ever be that good at it though. Not compared to Crow or Angie."

    "Well, Lady Rogner seems to like fighting, to some extent," Irene mused. "But as long as you can keep yourself safe, there's no need to worry that much about it."

    "Aww…thanks Irene!" President Herschel cried. "You're so sweet!"

    "H-huh?" Irene stammered. "It's just common sense."

    "Most people don't have that," Fion remarked. Wait–

    Miss Herschel let out a squeak and jumped in her chair.

    "When did you get here, Fion?" Irene asked, clamping down on her own surprise. 'I didn't even sense him come in…'

    "About a minute ago," the taciturn boy replied.

    "I'm sorry we kept you waiting!" Towa apologized hastily. "Why didn't you knock? We wouldn't have let you stand there if we knew you were there!"

    "Door was open," Fion shrugged.

    "You could have said something to us, Fion," Irene pointed out. "We did not mean to ignore you."

    "You looked busy," he replied, waving a box of cookies, which did not help Irene understand in the slightest.

    "Well, we were busy," Irene admitted, "but if you have a request, that takes priority. The paperwork isn't going anywhere, and I'm sure you have other things you'd like to do."

    "Ok." Fion placed the box of cookies on the table and slid it over to them, then plopped down a textbook, flipping it open to a marked page. "Can you answer a question?"

    "Do you want some tutoring help?" Towa asked. "There are a few people in my year who'd be happy to help."

    "Can they make things make sense like Irene can?" Fion asked.

    "Oh! Were you already helping him, Irene?"

    "Err…I just explained silverware to him, haha," Irene explained, "and also table manners."

    "Huh? Didn't you learn them–?"

    "Dead parents."

    "O-oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up," Towa apologized with a grimace.

    Fion shrugged. "Don't care. Don't remember parents." He paused. "Pretty sure I had parents."

    "Um…are there people who don't?" Towa mumbled.

    "Dunno," Fion replied. "Maybe some people are born in a machine or something."

    "Is…is that possible?" Irene mused. 'That sounds like a fairy tale.'

    "Maybe," Fion grunted. "Can you answer my question about this?" He pointed to his…textbook.

    "Algebra?" Irene asked. "What is your question?"

    "Why do they use letters for variables?"

    "I think it's just a convention," President Herschel explained. "You understand what a variable is, right?"

    "Yeah," Fion grunted. "It's something you don't know how many."

    Irene blinked. "I guess that is one way of putting it."

    Fion nodded. "So, why do they use letters?"

    "I think it's because most people recognize letters," Towa offered. "So basically everyone can use it."

    "But letters are also used for other things," Fion pointed out. "Makes things more confusing. Why not just use a box?"

    "If it's better for you, you can use boxes to represent variables," Irene suggested. "Though just make it clear what you are doing."

    "Ok." Fion noted. "I now have several other questions."

    "Um…" Towa hummed. "If you need some tutoring help, I think I can help you a bit tomorrow."

    "Aren't you busy tomorrow too?" Irene asked. "Won't you be overworked?"

    "Um…I don't think so," President Herschel replied thoughtfully. "With your help, we've got a lot of the work I thought would take until tomorrow done, so I should have time!"

    Irene frowned, having figured out by now that their Student Council President had a tendency to understate the amount of work she did. "If you're sure, President Herschel," she returned, "though if you need me to assist, I'd be willing."

    "Irene, please! You don't have to use my title," Miss Herschel cried.

    "Is that an order as Student Council President?" Irene asked slyly, a slight smile pulling at her mouth.

    "Irene!" Towa squeaked.

    "There's no need to be ashamed of the title, Towa," Irene laughed. "You certainly work hard enough to have earned it."

    "Always busy," Fion added blandly. "Maybe delegate more? If you are school leader."

    Towa puffed her cheeks in frustration and huffed, looking quite childlike, even compared to the other two people in the room, who looked quite young themselves. "Not you too!"

    "He does have a point," Irene pressed. "After all, you did say your job became easier after I joined the student council."

    "Do you want me to help tutor him or not?!" Towa pouted.

    Fion reached into his bag, pulling out another box of cookies and placed them on the table.

    "Err…Fion?" Irene asked. "What are you doing with the cookies?"

    "Bribing you to answer questions," he replied, as if that was an entirely normal thing to do.

    "With cookies?" Irene wondered.

    "You don't have to pay to submit requests to the student council!" Towa cried.

    Fion just stared at them. "We have to pay for the cafeteria though."

    "Well…this isn't the same!" Towa explained. "Our job is to help students with things like this."

    "...So how much do you get paid?" Fion asked.

    "Errrm…we don't?" Towa replied.

    Fion frowned. "Sounds like a scam."

    "Well, we do acquire a degree of influence over campus affairs," Irene pointed out. "It is also good practice for the future if you are likely to be managing something in the future."

    "..." Fion looked like he had something to say about that, but he instead just placed another box of cookies on the table.

    "You don't have to bribe us with cookies!" Towa reiterated, waving her arms frantically.

    "...Is it working?"

    "I was going to help anyways!"

    "But now you also have cookies."

    "Were cookies used as currency where you grew up?" Irene asked Fion, partly jokingly.

    "Kinda," the silver haired boy grunted. "You two are pretty small, so this should last awhile."

    Irene glanced at the box of cookies, suddenly reminded of how she had skipped dinner. 'No, cookies are not good for dinner!'

    Towa sighed. "If I take the cookies, will you let me tutor you?"

    "...Yes?" Fion frowned, giving Irene a confused look, as that was what he was asking for the entire time. For her part, Irene just smiled and placed a silencing finger over her lips.

    Fion shrugged, letting Towa schedule a session without protest. Not that he really had any reason to.

    After having some of his questions answered and hashing out a time during the upcoming free day to meet for tutoring, Fion seemed to have found the student council room to his liking. He left briefly and returned with three sandwiches, two of which he offered as bribes to let him nap in the admittedly quiet student council room.

    Towa was too nice to kick him out even if he was disruptive, and Irene didn't see a problem, as Fion was, if anything, too unobtrusive, and she did her best not to forget that he was there as she and the President continued their work.

    True enough to Miss Herschel's estimations, they managed to finish most of their work before the sun set, much to their delight. It had taken about a month, but they had managed to cut down the backlogged paperwork into something manageable.

    As they were cleaning up for the day, the door to the student council (which Fion had closed) burst open, revealing a tall young woman with short cropped purple hair and dressed in a…leather bodysuit? "Hey Towa!"

    Irene blinked, before recognizing Angelica Rogner and mentally shrugging.

    "Oh! Hey Angie, how are you doing?" President Herschel called back with a smile.

    "I was going to take a ride down to Heimdallr, and I was wondering…" she trailed off as she spotted Irene. "Oh, hey Schwarzer."

    "Good evening, Lady Rogner," Irene greeted in return, giving the high ranking noble a respectful bow.

    "Guess I shouldn't be that surprised you're here," Lady (in title, if not in attitude) Rogner muttered. "Anyways, I guess I do have to thank you for helping Towa out," she gave an obviously false smile, "I don't think I can remember the last time I've seen her leave this office before sunset."

    "That is kind of you to say," Irene replied. "But it is not as great an accomplishment as you are making it seem." A small smile tugged at her lips. "As diligent as President Herschel is, even she will not continue working when there is no more work to do."

    What Irene did not explicitly say was that had Towa had more help, she would not have had to spend so much time on student council duties.

    "Err…Angie?" Towa started. "Is something wrong?"

    "Of course not? What makes you say that? I'm perfectly fine!" the purple haired noble objected, perhaps slightly too ardently.

    "Um…are you sure?"

    "I'm fine!" Lady Rogner insisted.

    "Then I take this is a social call?" Irene inquired politely. "If you do not have a request for us, then are you here to speak with President Herschel? If that is the case, I can give you two some privacy and take my leave."

    "Err…yeah, that'd be great, if it isn't too much trouble."

    "Angie?!"

    "Have a good evening, President Herschel, Lady Rogner," Irene curtsied politely, finished collecting her things, and left the room, tapping Fion on the shoulder on the way out.

    Spotting the strange new person in the room, Fion slid over the back of the couch he had been napping on, skulked over to a window, slipped it open, then hopped out, despite being on the second floor.

    "Wait, was that Crow? Get back here!" Lady Rogner yelled, rushing over to the open window.

    'They don't look that alike, beside the silver hair, I suppose,' Irene mused. 'Then again, if she only saw a glimpse of him, it isn't that unbelievable of a mistake to make.'

    Fion was a bit of a strange kid, but he seemed a decent enough sort.

    Irene glanced out one of the windows, smiling slightly as she spent a moment marveling at the red glow of sunset. It was nice to have a little more time to train in the evenings.

    Speaking of which, she did agree to spar with Lawrence in her spare time, which she now had…

    The thought made her pretty nervous, since from everything she had seen, the tall noble was well on his way to becoming as dangerous as his father the Radiant Blademaster, or the Golden Rakshasa, and yet, Irene returned to her dorms with due haste and a slight skip in her step.

    As Irene left the room after sensing her presence wasn't wanted, Towa frowned at her friend. "Angie? What was that?! This isn't like you."

    "What do you mean? I didn't do anything weird," Angelica lied badly.

    "Umm…yeah…," Towa stumbled over her words, unsure how to proceed. "And that's not like you."

    "Do you really think so little of me?" Angelica replied with false cheer. "C'mon Towie, you know me, I can hold back if I need to."

    Towa didn't want to gainsay her friend, but her incredulity must have shown on her face, as Angelica sighed and deflated.

    "Alright fine," she grumbled. "Normally I'd be all over a cute little thing like her, but…well…"

    Towa frowned. "Angie, what's wrong with you? I know Irene would never do anything that would make you like this. It can't be rejection, you get rejected all the time!"

    Angelica winced as if shot in the heart, but Towa was undeterred.

    "So tell me, what's your problem with Irene?"

    The purple haired woman grimaced, pulling out a chair across from the student council president and plopping down in it.

    "It's…not really anything she did," Angelica began, uncharacteristically somber. "She seems like a nice gal, like you."

    "Huh? But I'm not a noble–"

    "And Irene's an adopted commoner, or bastard," Angelica interrupted. "I've met her parents, and they're great! They don't pressure their kids to be good little nobles, don't mind if they go sporting or do fun stuff. Hell, I heard Teo Schwarzer takes his kids out hunting sometimes, and he's got two cute little daughters!"

    Towa tilted her head in confusion. "Irene acts like a noble though. I barely got her to call me Towa! She usually still calls me 'President'!"

    "Yeah, I don't get her," Angelica sighed. "Her parents were willing to bow out of dumb noble stuff just for her sake, so why's she taking it so seriously?"

    "Are you…jealous?" Towa asked in surprise. That didn't seem like something her friend would be prone to.

    "Maybe? I don't know," Angelica muttered. "It's really not anything she did, and I don't really care what my old man says, but…well…"

    She pursed her lips and frowned. "It still bothers me, that time I heard him mutter about how he should have adopted a kid if it worked out for the Schwarzers."

    Her fist clenched and she slammed it on the table, though not hard enough to break it. "It shouldn't bother me. It's dumb, and I know Irene didn't do anything, but looking at her just messes with me."

    "Oh…your dad really said that to you?" Towa whispered.

    "Nah, not to my face," Angie admitted. "I overheard him grumbling to himself. Don't know why it bothers me so much."

    "He probably didn't mean it," Towa consoled.

    "He definitely meant it about wishing I was more like Irene," Angelica bit out. "Can you imagine that? Me going 'oh, pleased to meet you President Towa' or something like that?"

    "She calls me President Herschel."

    "Not the point!"

    "Oh, no I can't really see you doing that," Towa giggled, before her face turned serious. "But you better not make Irene sad, because I need her help here!"

    "Whatever you say, President Towa!" Angelica agreed with a mock salute. "I'm about to take the bike down to Heimdallr, you want anything?"

    "I don't need anything, thanks for asking though."

    "Awww! You're so cute!"

    "A-angie let me go!"

    There was still light by the time Irene arrived back at the Class VII dormitory, as she had left the student council room earlier and the spring days were lengthening.

    Irene let out a relieved sigh as she entered the building. Even though today had not been that tiring, returning to a place that had started to feel like a home away from home was always refreshing.

    Inside the lobby, Fion was at the punching bags, which was pretty typical, but instead of practicing himself, he and Gaia were teaching Ellia how to throw a punch.

    The three of them glanced at her as she entered, and Irene gave them a greeting with a smile, but she had somewhere to be so she didn't stop to chat, instead heading to her room, setting her school materials neatly on her desk, before changing into training clothes and grabbing her practice swords.

    She was pretty sure Lawrence didn't mean to practice with bared steel, though Irene was also quite certain that he could seriously hurt someone with just a practice sword. Or just break it, as Friedel liked to mention.

    With that, she descended the stairs to the second level and knocked on Lawrence's door. It would be slightly awkward if he had stayed later at the swim club with Julia like last month–

    The door opened and Lawrence poked his head out. "Oh, hello Lady Irene!" He glanced down at her clothes and practice swords and a bright smile lit up his face. "So you have time tonight? Excellent!"

    Irene nodded. "Y-yes, we managed to finish our student council work earlier than e-expected." She did her best not to stare, as while Lawrence was dressed, the shirt he wore was clearly a bit too small, making his musculature incredibly obvious.

    "That is good to hear!" Lawrence cheered. "Lady Julia was slightly worried about you overworking, but it seems you and President Towa have things well in hand."

    "Mnh!" Irene nodded. "Should we spar at the g-gymnasium?" She trailed off, remembering that Friedel would likely be there.

    "While I would not mind a decent walk," Lawrence remarked, "I had not planned on returning to campus this evening. How about sparring in the grassy area next to the dorms?"

    "I…think that would be better," Irene agreed, smiling slightly. 'It would be more secluded too, so less likely to have an audience.'

    "Well then it's decided," Lawrence declared. "I apologize, but I will need a minute to change."

    "O-oh it's no problem," Irene waved off. "I did arrive unannounced."

    "Very gracious of you, Lady Irene," Lawrence returned with a smile. "I will be down in a moment." He closed the door, and Irene let out a slow breath.

    'He really is muscular–noo! Stop thinking about that!'

    Irene shook her head to clear her thoughts, then padded back down to the ground floor, where the trio from before were still at the punching bags.

    "Have these bags offended you somehow?" Gaia asked as she glanced at Irene, a teasing glint in her eye. "I don't think they'd survive a determined swordswoman."

    "They barely survive Lawrence punching," Fion muttered, giving the dark haired noble a nod of greeting, an almost imperceptible smile pulling at his face.

    "U-uhm…" Ellia stammered, breathing heavily. "W-we could go somewhere–hah–else, if you need…my lady?"

    The other occupants of the room gave the ginger haired girl confused looks, which caused her to wave her hands panickedly. "What are you looking at me for?!"

    "Um…there's no need for that, Ellia," Irene replied, slightly confused by the other girl's sudden deference. "I was going to train outside. Punching bags aren't the best for sword training."

    "Indeed!" Lawrence boomed from right behind her, and Irene almost jumped in surprise, fighting down a very unladylike squeak. "They're good for learning to strike, but it won't do you that much good unless it could hit back."

    "Oh, I see now," Gaia smirked. "Have fun you two."

    'Huh?'

    "We will endeavor to do so!"

    'Lawrence no!'

    "W-wait what?!" Ellia squeaked.

    "Don't break anything," Fion shrugged.

    'Why does everyone keep insinuating something that is so obviously not there?!'

    Irene nodded stiffly, stepping to the door with a bit more haste than was strictly polite. She opened the doors to the dorm and paused, glancing back to see Lawrence waving a farewell to their classmates. He was now also dressed in training clothes, and hefting a very large practice sword over one shoulder.

    While she didn't think Lawrence would hurt her intentionally, Irene had a few second thoughts for a moment, before she shook them off.

    'If I am to gain control of my Curse, I will have to keep moving forwards!'

    "Thank you for your patience, Lady Irene."

    The lady in question blinked, before flushing slightly as she realized Lawrence had caught up to her. "It was n-no issue!"

    The two of them stepped out into the evening, the red riot of sunset casting the town of Trista in a warm glow.

    "Good thing there is enough light to train by still," Lawrence remarked, to which Irene nodded.

    The grassy area next to the dorms was empty, as usual, and looked smooth enough that they could maneuver without serious difficulty.

    Lawrence paced around the area, testing out the terrain. Eventually, he looked satisfied, bringing his practice sword into a ready stance. "Shall we begin?"

    Irene squared up against him, a thrill of fear shooting down her spine as she was again reminded of just how much bigger he was. "Shall we go to points? Or yield?"

    "Either would be acceptable for me," Lawrence shrugged. "Frankly, I had not considered something that formal, I just wanted to cross blades with you."

    "Um…" Irene hummed, a bit flattered and quite a bit embarrassed. "To three points then?"

    Lawrence nodded. "That seems fair to me."

    Usually, that would require a judge to call the hits, but this wasn't a competition match, and while the two sword nobles had not known each other for that long, they knew each other well enough to trust the other to admit to being hit.

    "Ready?" Lawrence asked, his sword held in a ready position at shoulder height and point aimed forwards.

    "Yes!" Irene replied, settling into her own ready position, one sword raised above her head and the other in front of her.

    The two combatants tensed, but neither moved immediately.

    Irene inhaled deeply, letting the gentle breeze of the evening whisk away her errant thoughts, focusing only on the here and now.

    Lawrence watched her with a keen eye, searching for any weakness in her guard.

    Irene relaxed her grip on her left sword slightly–

    She slid to the side as Lawrence took the bait, binding his sword against her left–

    "Oof!"

    Irene crashed into the grass, her left sword flying out of her grip. Lawrence had powered through her attempted deflection, something she probably should have expected.

    "Are you alright, Lady Irene?" the tall noble asked, sounding slightly concerned.

    "Point to you," Irene declared, rising from the grass and retrieving her lost weapon in the same motion. 'So this is the difference between a beginner and an intermediate? I still have far to go.'

    She had become too used to dueling Friedel and Julia, who, while stronger than her, could not so completely overpower her. To try and match Lawrence in strength was a doomed endeavor.

    Irene steadied her breathing, circling slowly to the right.

    Lawrence mirrored her, sword held in the same guard as before.

    Irene continued circling, not dropping her guard, even as Lawrence feinted, trying to draw a reaction. His reach was too long for her to take advantage of those openings, even if it was clear they were false. 'Wait, how did I know that?'

    She had no time to think, as the light of the fading sun glinted in the whites of her opponent's amber eyes, and Irene moved.

    Her blades lashed out suddenly as she closed the gap–

    Even momentarily blinded, Lawrence blocked her strike, but Irene had two swords, and she drew the shorter one across the taller noble's chest.

    "That is a point for you," Lawrence conceded as they split apart, eyes glinting with excitement and a focused curiosity. "You certainly are not one who should be underestimated."

    "Thank you for your kind words," Irene returned, a slight smirk pulling at her lips. In a proper fight, that blow likely would not have done much, not to a man who could shrug off blows from a massive ape, but being able to land a hit on him made her feel like she was finally making progress.

    They spoke no further, as there was no need.

    Something twinged at the back of her mind, and Irene adjusted her stance as Lawrence charged, his oversized sword held over his head. A very convincing feint.

    Irene moved as if to intercept, then suddenly shifted to the side, whirling her sword in a flourish to deflect Lawrence's sword as he converted his downward swing into a thrust, the point barely missing her face as she swung her other sword out at his side.

    But Lawrence was not fooled, twisting to the side and casually stepping out of range, his longer limbs and longer sword giving him much greater reach, so Irene lunged forwards, not content to allow him control over the distance.

    Her attack was thwarted as Lawrence stopped her cold, halfswording to shorten his sword's reach to maneuver into a bind, the pommel of his sword slamming into Irene's chest, the impact knocking her backwards a few steps, preventing her from striking him with her other sword and opening her up to a quick horizontal swing.

    Irene could not regain her balance in time to defend, so she didn't, instead leaning backwards under the swing, curling herself into a backwards roll and springing back to her feet before launching herself upwards in a jumping strike over Lawrence's low thrust, but he recovered too fast and shifted out of the way.

    Another breath, and Irene dashed behind him, but he turned to face before she could make use of the opening, her paired strikes deflected by a whirling overhead flourish, his long sword providing Lawrence a much greater defense than she had expected.

    Irene shuffled her feet, leaning under the follow up swing, one sword warding Lawrence's sword away from his body, the other thrusting towards him–

    The point of her left sword passed by his ear as her arm was wrenched to the side, her wrist engulfed in a massive fist as Lawrence somehow deflected her right sword while wielding his own overly large weapon one handed.

    If he grappled her in place, she was finished, so Irene twisted and threw her weight to her left, trying to unbalance him and slacken his grip, but the difference in mass was too great and he was unmoved, yet he let go, letting her stumble, following up with an overhand left hand blow.

    Irene swayed and ducked out of the way like a leaf on the wind, making another attempt at striking her opponent, but her blow was blocked, Lawrence managing to raise his sword between them in time, stopping her just out of reach with her shorter sword.

    For a moment, they held the bind, and Irene felt a shiver of some indescribable sensation creep up her spine at Lawrence's wide grin and gleeful amber eyes. Idly, a part of her realized that she too was smiling.

    'What was this feeling?'

    They broke apart, and clashed again, Irene dancing just away from Lawrence's strikes, while his greater reach and uncanny coordination prevented her from landing a hit.

    Somehow, she managed to avoid his blows and slip out of binds, preventing him from overwhelming her with his strength, but she could not make any headway of her own, as no matter how erratic her movement or elaborate her feints, he always seemed to read them and defend against both her swords.

    Neither managed to score a point for some time, but Irene felt herself flagging. Every exchange required her to expend more energy than him, and as much as she did train, she was quite sure her stamina did not outstrip his.

    In her fatigue, Irene misjudged an evasive step and was forced to block head on–

    She blinked, seeing stars…?

    Oh, that was the sky. She was on the ground.

    "Irene! Are you alright?!" Lawrence's concerned face appeared in her vision as he loomed over her, a bit too close for comfort.

    "I think so," Irene answered raspily, her throat dry from…however long they had been at this. She tried to sit up, and winced as pain throbbed in her head. "Ah!"

    Lawrence reached down and slipped an arm around her shoulders, helping her sit up. "I apologize, I got too caught up in the moment."

    "I did as well," Irene mumbled, sucking in a breath of air. "So it was my fault too."

    "Still, I did not mean to hit you so hard," Lawrence murmured contritely, crouching down next to her and checking over where his hit landed. "Though fortunately you seem to have managed to block part of the impact."

    Irene grimaced as the high of combat ebbed and fatigue turned her limbs into lead. "No need to apologize. I appreciate you not holding back too much, even if I'm only at the beginner level."

    Lawrence chuckled, looking relieved now that it was clear she wasn't hurt seriously. "That may be so, but I still learned a lot from our exchange. All the strength in the world will not avail to anything if it can never be brought to bear."

    "And I suppose it isn't possible to dodge everything," Irene returned with a slight grin, feeling better now the disorientation was passing. She shook her head and sighed. "I can't believe Friedel and Julia manage to keep up with someone as strong as you."

    "Hah!" Lawrence huffed a laugh, "believe it or not, our exchange was quite a bit longer than most of my exchanges with either of them."

    Irene blinked in surprise. 'Surely I can't be ahead of Friedel, she's been training for longer, and has had a year of practicing with stronger people here at Thors.'

    "It's the truth," Lawrence affirmed, noting her skepticism. "Friedel is not quite as evasive as you are, and tends to attack more recklessly once she's forced on the defensive, and Julia depends heavily on arts, so in a sword spar she sometimes stumbles due to reflex."

    "But I only managed to get one hit on you," Irene sighed, rubbing her bruising wrist gingerly.

    Lawrence looked taken aback for a moment. "I only scored two hits that would count in a match," he pointed out. "So I guess neither of us reached three points."

    "Then I may as well yield," Irene chuckled. "Don't think I want to take another hit like that if I want to get all the student council tasks done tomorrow."

    "Fair enough," Lawrence acknowledged, sitting down next to her. "I am not your teacher, so far be it from me to dictate your regimen, but even my mentors stressed the importance of not injuring myself."

    "Your mentors being…?" Irene inquired politely. 'Presumably his father is one, but he used the plural…'

    "Ah, yes, naturally, my father taught me much," Lawrence explained, "but I also learned many valuable lessons from our butler Klaus and also Countess Aurelia Le Guin while she trained at the Arseid school."

    Irene's eyes widened in understanding. She had never met Countess Le Guin in person, but Master of two separate schools of swordsmanship had a colorful reputation. "Wise mentors indeed," she mused.

    "Am I correct in presuming you learned from your father as well as the Sword Hermit?" Lawrence asked, turning to give her a curious look. "Or is that too presumptuous?"

    "No, you are correct," Irene replied, "though Master Ka-fai travels much of the time, so I did not receive that much direct instruction from him." She smiled slightly. "And while Mother is not martially inclined, I cannot discount how much her dancing lessons helped with footwork."

    Lawrence nodded. "That seems quite evident in how you fight, it was almost as if fighting wind."

    "Well, I can't very well withstand such a heavy blow," Irene pointed out, "so what other choice do I have but to dodge?"

    "I know the feeling," Lawrence laughed, to which Irene gave him a confused look, before she remembered just who he had learned from.

    "Even now?" She asked incredulously.

    "I could probably withstand a blow from my father or Countess Le Guin," he considered, "but that would still knock the wind out of me, not to mention be quite painful."

    Irene winced, imagining fighting someone of that caliber. It was a daunting thought. 'Could I…would it even be possible for me to reach that level…? No, that's getting too far ahead of myself. Besides, that isn't the point anyways.'

    "May I ask a rather personal question?" Lawrence inquired suddenly, amber eyes considering her searchingly.

    "U-umm…I suppose?" Irene stammered. "As long as you do not mind if I choose not to answer."

    "Of course," Lawrence conceded, pausing to consider his words. "There is some…dissonance in the way you fight," he began. "I sensed some hesitation when the possibility of sparring was brought up, and yet that mostly disappeared when we actually crossed blades, and was entirely absent during our adventure in Celdic, or under the old schoolhouse."

    Irene frowned. "Erm…what exactly are you asking? I didn't really hear a question, ehehe…"

    "True, forgive me, I got lost in thought," Lawrence admitted. "To put it more clearly: what is your goal in picking up the sword?"

    'Can I really explain truthfully?' Irene silently considered her answer. She had not picked up a weapon before that…day in the snow. She had been afraid to do so for a while afterwards. But it was necessary.

    "I…" she began haltingly, before steeling herself. "I started learning the sword because I realized that the world could be a dangerous place, and if I want to prevent harm from coming to those I love…I would have to start on the path of the sword." She did not mention that one of such dangers was herself.

    "An admirable sentiment," Lawrence responded, "one for which you have my respect." He looked out into the distance thoughtfully, which was fortunate for Irene as she buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. "It is part of my own motivations as well, though with how the world is going, part of me wonders how much good it can do."

    Irene slowly lifted her head out of her hands, cocking her head curiously. "What do you mean by that?"

    Lawrence shrugged. "For one, weapons are getting more and more destructive, and there are problems that cannot be solved with a sword, at least not in a good way."

    'He has a point. It must bother him especially because of his family history, as their force of arms have in many cases helped prevent the rise of great dangers.'

    "I'm sure you will be up to the task," Irene smiled encouragingly. "Or did you forget how you broke up the dispute in the Grand Market?"

    "That was the threat of violence," Lawrence countered, though his serious demeanor softened. "But your encouragement is appreciated."

    "It's too nice of an evening to think of such things," Irene huffed, "especially when I need to rest well for tomorrow's activities."

    "Then don't let me keep you awake," Lawrence laughed, rising to his feet and offering her a hand up, which she gladly took. "Though if you need my assistance for student council activities, I will be more than happy to help, especially if there is another excursion into the old schoolhouse."

    "There is, in fact, another request from the principal in that regard," Irene replied. "Though I would not want to impose on your time."

    "No need to worry," Lawrence waved off her concerns. "You've already gone out of your way to help me, so it is only fair I assist you as well, as thanks for the jacket, if you wish to see it as such."

    "Oh! You've received the properly sized jacket?"

    "Indeed! Thank you for your assistance, now I can probably avoid the awkwardness of some other students asking me for fashion advice." Lawrence rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment at the thought. "I am still not sure why they did so."

    "Haha!" Irene giggled. "You're very welcome!" A thought occurred to her, and a disappointed frown crossed her features.

    "Is something wrong?" Lawrence asked.

    "I did not see a request regarding your undersized bed cross my desk," Irene chided her much larger classmate. "Didn't we talk about that matter already?"

    "Oh…that had slipped my mind, I'm afraid," Lawrence winced. "I hadn't thought it to be that important."

    "Lawrence."

    "As my lady commands!" the tall noble chuckled. "I'm sure your mothers would be glad to see the woman you have grown up to be, both Lady Schwarzer and the one with Aidios."

    Irene did not know how to respond to that.
    AN. Well, Lawrence continues to be dangerous for girls' hearts. Fion has some fairly reasonable questions about the school's practices, and Angelica did not flirt with Irene. I did say that it would probably not go as expected. Also Julia complaining a bit about how her father treats her, which is a pretty notable difference from Jusis' treatment, since a second son does not allow for quite the same political opportunities as a a daughter.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • WrandmWaffles said:
    "Oh come now!" Julia sighed, taking a seat on one of the desks (was that Masha's?) and kicking her legs idly. "I'm not that obvious, am I?" (Yes it was.)
    Click to expand...
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    If Masha finds that out we may have a murder on hand
    WrandmWaffles said:
    "If it's better for you, you can use boxes to represent variables," Irene suggested. "Though just make it clear what you are doing."
    Click to expand...
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    You can also clarify that two variables are the same
    WrandmWaffles said:
    "Kinda," the silver haired boy grunted. "You two are pretty small, so this should last awhile."
    Click to expand...
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    Pot calling kettle black
     
    I do love the banter between characters its great.

    So I'm waiting on the trainwreck know as Patrick talking to Irene, it's sure to be a mess and "fun"
     
    School Days 2
  • Sidestory
    • School Days 2​

    Between Field Studies One and Two

    Blasting a few dummies, sentient or not, was one of Margarita Dresden's favorite ways to unwind, so she found herself headed to the range shortly after dinner, waving off some of her new friends about getting some training in even on an off day (haha!)

    It wasn't that the day had been particularly stressful, but she had always been more of a kinetic learner. Frankly, most of her family was, even Elder Sister, however classy she could act.

    There was also the fact the range was usually fairly empty this time of the week. Though…that didn't seem to be true right now. It was quiet, but with the electric buzz of Magic in the air, it was clearly occupied, and it could only be by one person. Though didn't he just get back from his Field Trip thingy? Wouldn't he want to get food first, or something?

    Margarita turned the corner to the range, passing through the silencing barrier and sure enough, the roar of flames suddenly filled her ears as she found Emmet doing his level best to turn a dummy into a barbecue.

    She spent a moment observing as he snarled a short incantation, channeling a delicious amount of anger into an impressive lighting bolt, obliterating the target dummy in a crack of thunder.

    "Damn!" Margarita couldn't help but whistle. "What did that thing ever do to you?" A part of her was just a little bit envious that Elder Sister had clearly taught her boy toy a few tricks that she hadn't even taught her, but given he had a kinda important job, it made some sense he'd need it.

    Emmet turned, his blue eyes flashing with burning rage and frustration, sparkling delightfully in the twilight amid the remnants of his fiery wrath.

    "What do you want?"

    "So cold!" Margarita gasped theatrically, placing a hand on her chest as if wounded by his tone, even though they both knew it was quite the opposite. "Am I so offensive to your eyes?"

    "If I say yes, will you screw off?" Emmet snapped, focusing his ire on her.

    'Oh, be still my heart!'

    "Right here?!" she gasped. "I didn't think you had it in you Emmet! Is that what the boundary is for?"

    "Not in a thousand years," the purple haired boy denied flatly, completely unaffected by her teasing.

    "Ouch, you really know the fastest way to a girl's heart there, Emmet."

    "Through the sternum."

    "Oh, you know what I mean!"

    "Through the eyes then, if you want to try hypnosis."

    "Ohoho! You are welcome to try!"

    "Why would I even bother with you?" Emmet snorted. He still looked annoyed, but his anger was suppressed. He knew it amused her, so he was putting it away for the moment. Spoilsport!

    "Hmph, I suppose you are Elder Sister's creature," Margarita huffed, crossing her arms petulantly. It was a bit galling to admit defeat, but seeing the momentarily crack in Emmet's composure was worth it.

    "Whatever helps you sleep at night," he muttered.

    "Sleep? Is that what you two were doing?" Margarita retorted.

    Emmet rolled his eyes, but looked away slightly. "Tch. What do you even want?"

    "I was being honest about shooting something," she shrugged. "Though now you have me curious. What's got your dander all the way up?"

    A flicker of anger reignited on his otherwise placid face, and Emmet whirled, hurling a bolt of force into one of the remaining dummies, sending it splintering to the ground.

    "My word, the field study must have gone poorly then," Margarita remarked.

    "Something like that."

    "Heh, what? Did Julia and Masha get on your nerves?"

    "You showed me that it is possible for someone to be annoying every moment of their waking life," Emmet grunted, "but I hadn't known that it was possible for two girls to snipe at each other for nearly an entire day straight. They barely contributed anything to the tasks at hand, and were active detriments most of the time, so the rest of us locked them in their room at the inn and did the rest of the study ourselves."

    "Did you hypnotize them too?" Margarita grinned.

    "I almost regret not doing so," Emmet muttered. "They were somehow even more insufferable on the way back."

    "What, did you expect them to kiss and make up after being locked in together?" Margarita laughed.

    "I dare you to tell that to them," Emmet shot back flatly. "When I agreed to this assignment, I should have thought of how annoying teenage girls can be."

    "Oh come now! Teenagers are annoying as a rule, it's our role!" Margarita protested enthusiastically.

    "Surprisingly, my male classmates aren't that bad," Emmet admitted. "Though two of them seem like a few bad days from going on a killing spree, and the other one just needs a cause."

    "That…" Margarita blinked. "How is that not that bad?!"

    Emmet smiled broadly, an almost maniacal gleam in his eyes. "It means I find myself in good company."

    'Geez Elder Sister…you really know how to pick 'em.'

    Theresia Caroline would not call herself particularly pious, even if those who knew she usually started the day by visiting the Church in Trista might say otherwise. It was important to start the day on the right foot, and offering prayers to the Goddess was a simple way to do so.

    Like many of her friends, she typically arose early to fit in training among her daily preparatory activities. Back home in Bareahard, the city was too large to feasibly visit the Cathedral there during that routine, so Theresia appreciated the convenience of having the local Church so close by.

    The previous year, she had not run into any other students there this early in the morning, so she had become accustomed to only Father Paulo and Sister Ornella being present, but the new year had brought two freshmen who seemed similarly devout.

    "I see you have beaten me here yet again, Gaia," Theresia murmured in greeting as she stepped into the Church and spotted the tall foreigner speaking with Sister Ornella.

    "Good morning, Theresia," Gaia replied with a smile. "I am quite accustomed to rising with the sun, though don't speak as if you have not been here earlier before."

    "Hehe, it's good to see more students here on their own initiative," Sister Ornella chuckled. "This year, I would almost say it's lively here, if not for how calm all three of you are."

    "A Church is a place for solemnity and contemplation, is it not?" Theresia pointed out. "Though I suppose if we have some cause for celebration it can become quite lively."

    "The most common ceremony like that would be marriage, correct?" Gaia inquired.

    "Well, that depends on how many people get married!" Sister Ornella declared brightly. "So while in a bigger city like Heimdallr that probably is true, in a small town like Trista that is not the case." She smiled, though one with an edge of warning. "Which is a good thing, since most of you students are too young and foolish to be jumping into something like that!"

    "Too young? I'm not so sure about that," Gaia mused. "Too foolish? On that we can agree."

    "That matter really depends on my parents," Theresia pointed out. "Any marriage I would be joined in would be political, so depending on the person, I may or may not feel particularly interested in celebrating."

    The sister frowned slightly, though Gaia tilted her head curiously.

    "I have heard some of my noble classmates express similar sentiments," the Nord girl remarked. "At first, I had thought this meant their families would try to find a good match for them, but I am getting the sense that I am failing to understand some of the meaning."

    "And you would be correct," Theresia replied. "For noble families, marriage is more about solidifying alliances or making connections, and any consideration of how well the two paired up might get along is secondary." It was not something that she liked, but her parents had never really tried to pretend otherwise, and how Julia's father treated her was just one of the more egregious examples.

    "That seems quite mercenary for something that should be a sacred bond," Gaia commented lightly, giving Sister Ornella a questioning look.

    For her part, the Sister frowned, probably mulling over a proper response. "It is definitely not the right way to go about things, but there have been cases in the past where the right marriage has bridged a long running conflict, which turned out to be a better result for the nation as a whole."

    "In fact, that played a significant part in the Arnors unifying the Empire as a whole to begin with," Theresia pointed out.

    "So it is a sacrifice of one's own happiness for the betterment of others?" Gaia concluded. "In that case, you and your friends have my respect."

    "It isn't quite like that," Theresia sighed. "In most cases it's for some political or material gain, and I don't think it can be called a sacrifice if it is dictated to us."

    'That came out a lot more bitter than I meant it.'

    "I think I am starting to understand Julia's behavior better," Gaia remarked. "Irene as well…" she frowned. "Though Lawrence does not appear to put much consideration into this topic."

    "Ehehe…" Theresia raised her hand over her mouth to cover her giggle (and slight flush). "Lawrence is…well, Lawrence."

    Gaia let out a huff of laughter, a glint of mischief twinkling in her eyes. "He certainly seems popular among noble ladies around our age. Are you hoping your parents might try to arrange a marriage with him?"

    Theresia felt her face heat up even more. "I will n-neither confirm nor deny that." She frowned. "My parents would probably quite like such a match, but the Arseids are of higher rank. geographically distant, and tend to not be as mercenary with their matches, as you put it."

    Sister Ornella sighed, rubbing her face tiredly despite the early hour. "I suppose I shouldn't have brought it up to begin with, and even though this is a place to express one's worries, I think that is enough of this topic for today."

    The two students shared a contrite glance with each other, deciding to heed the sister's request.

    The door to the Church opened, and a girl with short cropped blonde hair stepped inside, stopping short at the sight of people just over the threshold.

    "Oh, is something wrong?" she asked.

    "Oh! Good morning, Rosine!" Theresia greeted. "And no, we were just chatting, mostly."

    "You all look so serious," the mild mannered girl observed.

    "This is supposed to be a serious place," Theresia pointed out.

    "I suppose," Rosine conceded, tilting her head thoughtfully to the side. "But I'm sure if you give your concerns up to the goddess, I'm sure whatever's weighing you down will feel lighter."

    "That does seem to help," Theresia admitted.

    "Well, since you're all here, shall we get started?" Sister Ornella suggested.

    The students and the sister spent some time in silent prayer, and while Theresia's worries for her future didn't vanish, they felt less frightening, at least for the moment.

    "Hyah!"

    Klak!

    Thump!

    Alan hit the training mat with a thud, his reckless thrust under Lawrence's guard having unbalanced him enough that his opponent barely had to lift a finger to knock him over.

    "Damn it!"

    He scrambled to his feet, ignoring Lawrence's offered hand, but the tall noble took the snub in stride. "Good effort, Alan, but you have to watch your footing if you want to pull something like that off."

    "Patrick managed it," the dark haired young man grumbled lowly, getting back into a ready stance.

    "Lordling Patrick is taller than you and has longer reach," Lawrence countered, "which is why he was able to make use of such a maneuver against you. And even still, his footwork is better."

    "So what do you want me to do?!"

    "Practice your footwork," Lawrence insisted, casually deflecting another reckless charge. "You are trying to run without mastering walking, that will just lead to more frustration."

    The two freshmen continued at it for some time, and Friedel found herself yet again impressed by Lawrence's patience, though Alan's tenacity was commendable as well.

    "You know, Friedel? I kinda feel like he's hijacking our role a bit," Loggins grumbled from next to her. "He isn't even technically part of the club."

    "Now, now, Loggins," Friedel replied chidingly. "Do not look a gift horse in the mouth, and are you really suggesting that the path of the sword should be constrained by mere club affiliation?"

    "Oi! What's up with that scary smile?" Loggins objected. "I was just trying to make a joke!"

    Friedel smiled, though whether it was because of how easy Loggins was to rile up or how interesting Lawrence's teaching methods were, she wasn't sure.

    "Why do I feel like it's more 'cause you've got the hots for this guy?" Loggins muttered under his breath. "Ow!"

    "Oh? Did you say something?" Friedel inquired dangerously, digging her heel into Loggins' foot.

    "Nothing! Ow! I said nothing!" the other fencer grumbled, shuffling away from the outwardly serene Fencing Club Captain.

    "Really? Must have been the wind," Friedel declared.

    "Wind my ass, we're indoors," Loggins grumbled, now out of reach, but that did not mean he was safe.

    "I suppose you do have a point, Loggins," Friedel conceded. The other senior gave her a suspicious look. "It would not do for us to stay idle. Let's get in some practice of our own, shall we?"

    "Great…me and my big mouth."

    And as much as Loggins grumbled, he quite obviously enjoyed their bout, even if it mostly did not go in his favor. Despite that, Friedel did have to admit that he had improved. She would have to train harder.

    The rest of the people in the gymnasium clapped or cheered as Loggins begrudgingly conceded defeat, failing to read a feint and receiving a thrust to the chest for his troubles.

    "I'll get you next time!"

    Friedel liked that about him. Some of the other club members gave up far too easily, whereas Loggins would try and find a way to press the attack again.

    "Hey Captain…" the tall commoner drawled, wheels figuratively turning behind his eyes. "Have you tried fighting the big boy over here?" He stuck a thumb out at Lawrence. "I kind of want to see just how you guys broke everything."

    That…was perhaps not the wisest idea…as Friedel knew she had a one track mind, and that Lawrence was more than able to keep up…but…sparring with him was just too much fun.

    "I suppose we could go for a bout or two," Lawrence offered, picking up his practice rapier, giving her an expectant look.

    "Do you even have to ask?" Friedel grinned, grabbing a practice greatsword from the wall and tossing it over to the large noble.

    Lawrence cocked his head questioning, but Friedel scoffed. "You're decent at court fencing, but I want to fight the Arseid," she declared.

    "Oh, I thought the club was only for, well…fencing."

    "This is a military academy," Friedel returned. "And I think this club could use a reminder of how the different styles common in the armies look."

    "Fair enough," Lawrence nodded, taking his position and dropping into a ready stance.

    The other members of the club cleared a space for them, and Friedel took her stance opposite him, adrenaline spiking in her veins as she prepared to fight an opponent she could not consistently overcome.

    The whole room seemed to hold its breath as the two more advanced swordsmen stared each other down, and Friedel felt a grin pull at her face.

    "Um…don't they need a ref?" Alan pointed out, but it was too late.

    Friedel lunged forwards, trying to force her opponent on the defensive, because she knew that letting him dictate the pace of the battle was suicide.

    Alas, Lawrence was not fooled by her feint, stepping away from her converted downward slash with ease and almost rocking her off her feet with a horizontal blow she barely deflected.

    But her footwork was good, partly a product of her father's insistence she learn ballet, so she kept her balance. Even then, she was forced to backpedal as Lawrence advanced in a chain of quick, measured attacks, warding her off and leaving little opening for attacks.

    It was far too controlled and timid compared to what he was capable of, so Friedel prepared her footing, then lunged again, managing to slip past his guard and tag him in the chest even as the edge of his sword smacked her in the chest, sending a light sting of pain through her.

    "Dirty exchange," Lawrence called, to which Friedel nodded, a frown creeping over her face.

    While it was not as if they lived in the same place, the two of them had met and sparred quite often ever since they met at the Junior Eisenritter camp. Friedel's home and the seat of her family was on the Sutherland side of Lake Ebel, so she and Lawrence only had a ferry ride between them and a good fight.

    As such, Friedel was well aware of just how much power Lawrence could bring to bear. She had a few scars from when he was not able to control it as well. On one hand, she was pleased that he had so mastered himself, on the other, she was much displeased by how he held back against her.

    "Lawrence," Friedel called, her smile widening dangerously.

    "Lady Friedel?" the oaf asked back, looking confused.

    "What have I said about holding back?"

    "Err…Instructor Heinrich told us to stop breaking practice swords," Lawrence pointed out.

    "Then don't break the swords," Friedel insisted.

    Lance frowned. "Are you sure?"

    Good old Lawrence, always concerned about how his strength could hurt people smaller than him, but Friedel was no delicate flower.

    "Lawrence!" Friedel smiled widely. "I want you to bring me to my knees."

    She ignored the sudden murmuring around her, focusing her gaze intently on her opponent.

    "Very well then," Lawrence agreed lowly, settling back into a ready stance, sword raised over his head.

    It was a threatening stance, one to draw in the foolish, but also a risky one. It was very tempting to try and lunge at him, even if there was good chance Lawrence could smack her down before she made contact. A wiser swordsman would be more cautious.

    Friedel's smile widened. Lawrence just knew her so well!

    She lunged, shooting forwards as fast as she could, practice rapier aimed straight at her opponent's broad chest.

    Lawrence did not bring his sword down, and her footwork slipped minutely as she corrected her instinctive dodge, but it was enough for Lawrence to strafe out of her lunge.

    He was a lot faster than his size suggested, and Friedel was forced to deflect a crushing backhand swing with a defensive flourish, the impact sending tremors down her arm and adrenaline shooting through her veins.

    Her opponent moved to press his advantage, but her footwork recovered quickly enough that she was able to defend or avoid his follow up attacks.

    Still, every exchange sent shocks down her arm from the force, and her heart pounded in glee.

    Lawrence had been quite talented even when they had first met, but he had come a long way from the gangly and poorly coordinated youth who had fished her out of Lake Ebel after she had annoyed Countess Le Guin a bit too much.

    There was a time when she could trip him up with a few quick maneuvers, but now that he was fully grown (probably), his limbs no longer seemed to get in their own way, and he stepped as smoothly as someone his size could, the product of some rather forceful dancing lessons, at least in some part.

    Friedel's arms screamed in protest as she deflected another crushing blow, the impact rattling her enough that Lawrence had already recovered before she could counterattack.

    So far, she had been able to avoid taking a real hit, but with Lawrence's reach on top of his blossoming skill, she was unable to launch a meaningful attack of her own.

    When she was younger, Friedel had aspired to be the best swordswoman in the Empire. With the existence of Aurelia Le Guin, that seemed like a less feasible ambition, but there was no use in getting defeatist.

    She let out a slight pained sound as her footwork slipped and she was forced to block one of the incoming strikes dead on. Her muscles screamed as the shock rattled through her body, and yet she could not help the grin that spread across her face.

    Lawrence had not let getting beaten down by the Radiant Blademaster and Golden Rakshasa for much of his life stop him from becoming their successor, and while Friedel was actually a bit older than him, fighting someone who was stronger than you was a good way to learn.

    Feeling herself flagging, despite the adrenaline high, Friedel feinted a lunge.

    Lawrence moved to deflect.

    Friedel threw what energy she had left into a flourish, deflecting his warding blow and leaving him open for a thrust–

    The wind was knocked out of her chest as Lawrence slammed his elbow into her sternum, sending her flailing backwards, barely backpedaling away from his follow up swing.

    An idle part of her mind found it funny that his strength had actually knocked her out of range of his next strike, but the rest of her was screaming (she wasn't sure if it was excitement or fear) as she grit her teeth and recovered her balance just in time to parry another crushing blow.

    She darted forwards, forcing him to abort his next attack to deflect–

    He twisted his sword and trapped hers into a bind, leaving Friedel no recourse but draw her parrying dagger and–

    A massive hand clamped onto her wrist and she was wrenched to the ground as Lawrence locked her arm behind her back in a hold that she knew she couldn't escape–

    Wait…she just drew live steel…shit.

    "Yield," she gasped, her voice raspy from exertion.

    "I suppose it has been awhile since we sparred with proper weapons," Lawrence chuckled, taking his knee off her back and pulling her to her feet as she felt herself crash down from the adrenaline high.

    "I apologize for that," Friedel muttered sheepishly, putting her dagger back where it came from. "Reflex."

    "I understand, Lady Friedel," Lawrence nodded. "I was a bit worried I hit you too hard for a moment there."

    "Unless it kills me that wouldn't be true," she grinned back. It would definitely bruise though. Better than being floored like that one time. "Though we wouldn't be breaking any swords if we used our real ones."

    "True…" Lawrence mused, taking a step back now that she was back on her feet.

    "Uh…not that I'd get in your way, but wouldn't that make Heiny even more pissed off?" Loggins cut in awkwardly, and with some concern.

    "Heiny?" Lawrence asked, turning to the other fencing club senior.

    "Instructor Heinrich, sorry," Loggins explained quickly.

    "Oh, I was not aware you were that close with him," Lawrence remarked, giving the fencing club senior a confused look. "But you might have a point."

    "I didn't take you to be one for such deference, Loggins," Friedel observed, still in quite a bit of pain, but recovered enough to compose herself.

    "Hey, I just don't feel like ticking off the guy who can beat you, Cap," Loggins shot back with a shrug of his shoulders.

    "Ha! Lawrence is largely harmless unless provoked," Friedel reassured him, "isn't that right, Lawrence?" She glanced up at her tall friend, who shrugged slightly.

    "I do not typically seek to hurt anyone, save for sparring or when violence is necessary."

    "And when is that?" Loggins asked, looking a bit concerned.

    "When lives are at stake, or when monsters need to be killed," Lawrence answered evenly, used to having people a bit intimidated by him. "Otherwise words are usually quite effective enough to get by."

    "Alright then…" Loggins trailed off. "So are we good for today? Or do you two wanna go for a few more rounds?"

    Friedel blinked, eyes darting to the clock on the wall, and finding that quite a bit of time had passed. A glance around the room showed that most of the club had already left, though Alan was watching from the sidelines with wide eyes. Good, if he was smart, he would have learned something from this.

    "I think I am fit for another round," Friedel announced, before wincing slightly as her arm twinged. "Likely not for two, unfortunately."

    "I feel similarly," Lawrence added, "though I do have to get started on some schoolwork later."

    "That can wait," Friedel declared, giving the tall noble a pleased smile.

    "Of course, Lady Friedel," Lawrence conceded with a snort.

    "I'll give you two some privacy then," Loggins muttered, moving towards the exit.

    "Why the hurry?" Friedel called, halting him in his tracks. "You might learn something if you watch."

    Why were he and Alan looking at her like that?

    No matter, a quick smile and they were easily convinced to remain spectators to her second attempt to topple Lawrence.

    It went slightly better than the first.

    There were times Ellia regretted not joining the Wind Orchestra, especially with how appreciative Hibelle and Bridget were. She hadn't expected the noble girl to be ok with guitars, but Bridget was pretty cool about most things. Hibelle also thought it was interesting but wasn't sure it fit into an orchestra, and he might have a point.

    Ellia didn't come to Thors for music though, no matter how much she liked it, and Lacrosse really was helping her get into shape, and Fion and Gaia were really nice about helping her learn how to fight.

    Still, the Wind Orchestra was nice enough to let her practice in their room (she really should have realized that practicing at home was quite a bit different than practicing in a dorm). Her hands and fingers were a bit stiff from the day's training, but practicing music always helped her relax.

    The door to the music room burst open. "Oh excellent, you're here, Ellia!" Elisha greeted loudly, snapping her out of her playing.

    "Eep! Uh…hello Elisha." Ellia gave him a weird look, trying to pretend she hadn't almost jumped in fright.

    "I know that I am tone deaf," the blond began, apparently not caring about barging in unexpectedly, "and while I don't have any means to fix that, I think you can help me get around that a bit."

    "Um…" Ellia stared at him. He really couldn't read the room. "I'm not sure I can help you with that."

    Elisha frowned. "Really? You're quite good at playing music, so you certainly should have some sense of tone, right?"

    "What does that have to…" Ellia blinked. "Wait, you're literally tone deaf?!"

    "That's what I just said–"

    "That's awful!" the ginger haired girl cried. "So does music not sound right to you?"

    "I wouldn't know?" Elisha replied nonchalantly. "I don't listen to music much, and it's not like I'd be able to tell if it doesn't sound right in the way you probably mean it."

    "That's terrible!" Ellia gasped, clutching her guitar protectively. "Do you not like music?" The thought was almost too horrible to bear!

    "Well, I kinda like it," Elisha answered, looking a bit concerned by Ellia's sudden change in demeanor. "It reminds me of machines in production, very rhythmic, very soothing, since it means stuff is working."

    Elisha said a lot of weird things, but this! This could not stand!

    Ellia quickly thrust her guitar into his arms. "You are going to learn how to play music, even if it's the last thing I do!"

    "Um…will that help me with being tone deaf?"

    "I…uh…don't think so…but you'll be able to play guitar!"

    "Hooray?"

    It turned out to be quite a bit more difficult than Ellia had first thought.

    Elisha had no musical sense, at all. His fingers were pretty dextrous, and he learned the fingering well enough, he even had a decent sense of volume, but Ellia found to her horror that none of the artistry registered with him.

    With effort, he managed to play the right strings at the right time, but it always sounded a bit wrong. Too mechanical. And he was hopeless at chords.

    Elisha tried to strum a chord, and Ellia cringed at the discordant noise, while the blond looked at her and shrugged. "Can't really tell the difference by ear."

    "...How?!" Ellia groaned. "It sounds like something crying in pain!"

    The poor tone deaf man cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, before pulling a device out of his pocket. "Perhaps if I measure the frequency and try to match what you played this way…"

    Ellia wanted to scream.

    In the end, she just sat him down in front of the piano with all the keys labeled, and tried to teach him with that. It was slightly more successful, but it was very obvious that he was just memorizing where the keys he was supposed to press were instead of any improvement to his musical sense.

    Before, Ellia had thought Elisha was kind of weird, and a little scary. But now, she couldn't help but feel kinda bad for him.

    It seemed like he had a bad relationship with his mom, and he never mentioned a dad, and on top of that, he couldn't even properly enjoy music! It was really pretty sad.
    AN. Well, this one took a while to get out, not really because it was hard to write, but I've been working on trying to get my other fic wrapped up, and well, that chapter is approaching 20K words...
    Anyways, as you can see, Class VII has quite a bit of shonen/shojo energy. Maybe Oliviert just liked the chaos? Also Emmet, could you please stop raising red flags for like 5 seconds?
     
  • Sidestory
    • 9. Soul of Learning
  • Threadmarks
    • Soul of Learning​

    The next morning, Irene was tempted to stay in bed longer than usual. Her muscles were sore and stiff, and she felt a bit bruised up from sparring with Lawrence. Still, she rolled out of bed and stretched, knowing that it would probably be better to get her blood flowing.

    Besides, she had tasks she needed to do for the day.

    Keynes from the bookstore had requested help sorting out a book delivery order. Klein from the Swimming Club had requested a substitute tutor for a boy named Emile whom he had been tutoring, as the Swimming Club captain had a family emergency happen, Fion needed some help with schoolwork, and then there was another request to investigate the Old Schoolhouse.

    The bookstore one was a bit strange, as Keynes had run his store for quite a long time, from what Irene knew, and usually there weren't any problems with the delivery. Since the tutoring tasks would require her to stay at one place for a decent amount of time, she decided on figuring out the book order first.

    She headed downstairs, chatting with Julia for some time as they went through their usual morning routine, which had sort of become a class-wide practice over the past couple of months.

    Lawrence and Gaia weren't there, probably having already headed out for the day, but the rest of the class filtered down and went through similar routines. Even Masha came down and performed some calisthenics, though she was still pretty standoffish.

    "So, are you planning to be a teacher in the future?" Julia asked airily as Irene described the tasks she was planning on sorting out.

    "Not really," Irene replied, humming thoughtfully, "though it isn't the worst idea."

    Julia shrugged. "I think you would be quite good at it, definitely better than Instructor Sara, at least about the actual schooling part, though you wouldn't be that bad as a combat instructor either."

    "Er…thanks for the kind words," Irene demurred, "but I'd still have to get certified for that."

    "True, though honestly, I wasn't really seriously suggesting that," Julia backpedaled slightly. "I was more wondering why you and President Towa got tutoring requests and then decided to take care of them yourselves."

    "Klein's request is a one time case," Irene pointed out, "and Fion definitely seems to have some gaps in his education, but I'm sure he'll catch up in no time."

    "Does make you wonder about his background a bit," Julia mused. "Though I wouldn't mind him bribing me with cookies."

    "Oh? Do you find him cute?" Irene prodded with a smirk. "I'm sure your father would not approve."

    "You do know that's encouragement, not discouragement, don't you?"

    "Julia!"

    "Fine, fine," the blonde snickered. "I shouldn't say stuff like that out loud."

    Irene huffed, but didn't press the issue. She was pretty sure Julia was joking, but she really didn't want her friend to get into trouble. From what Irene had heard, Duke Albarea was not an understanding or kind father.

    "On a different note," Julia began, glancing briefly towards the kitchen, "do you want to try cooking something for lunch today? I think I could use a change of pace from the usual stuff the Student Union sells."

    "You don't want to bother the servants in the Upper Class Dorm either?" Irene inquired lightly.

    "Where would be the fun in doing that?" Julia countered. "I bought some ingredients for stew the other day, might as well make use of it."

    "It has been some time since I cooked," Irene mused, "I would not want to get too rusty at it."

    That decided upon, the two of them finished their morning routine and parted ways, Irene heading into town to the bookstore, while Julia headed out to the Training Field and the Riding Club.

    Speaking with Keynes, Irene discovered the reason for the confusion. It looked like a few of the instructors had all submitted an order at the same time, but whoever had submitted the order had not actually indicated which book was for which instructor, leading to Keynes' request to the Student Council.

    "Hmm…Behind the War of the Lions, Modern Art: The Complete Works, Topical Science, Analyzing Macroeconomics, and The Empire's Hottest Spots…" Irene read through the book titles, considering which instructor might have ordered them. Four of the books seemed to directly relate to one of their school subjects, and the last one seemed out of place…so that was probably for Instructor Valestein.

    "Do you know who the books are for?" Keynes asked.

    "I believe so, yes," Irene replied with a bright smile. "I'll handle the delivery, don't you worry."

    "Err…would you like some assistance carrying them?" the store owner asked, looking a bit guilty. "They are quite heavy textbooks."

    "Oh no! I should be fine," Irene declared, picking up the stack of books. It was pretty heavy, but she would make do. "Though do you have a bag for them? I wouldn't want one of them to slip out and fall into the river or the like."

    Not too surprisingly, Mr. Keynes did have a bag she could use, which Irene gratefully took, using it to haul the stack of textbooks over to the Thors Campus.

    She was stronger than her slender frame would suggest, but they were certainly quite heavy. Maybe she should have tried conscripting Lawrence to help her for this task, but he was probably busy.

    Unfortunately, most of the instructors were not in their office, not terribly surprising since it was a free day, but that would have made her job quite a bit easier. At least Vice Principal Heinrich was there.

    "Excuse me, Vice Principal, may I have a moment of your time?" Irene inquired politely.

    "Good morning, Lady Schwarzer," he greeted seriously, "Of course you may. What do you need of me?"

    "Did you happen to have ordered a copy of Analyzing Macroeconomics from Keynes' bookstore?"

    "I did indeed…" the vice principal frowned. "Please do not tell me that Valestein conscripted you into delivering things like an errand boy."

    "Err…not exactly, sir," Irene replied, trying not to rile up the rather touchy vice principal. "It was a request for the Student Council, it seems that the book order from the school did not specify which book should go to which person."

    "Oh for the love of–!" Vice Principal Heinrich sighed explosively. "I will have words with Valestein!"

    Still, he did take the book. "Thank you for delivering this book, Lady Schwarzer," he nodded in gratitude. "This really is not a task a young lady should be saddled with, though I suppose Miss Herschel would have some trouble carrying this stack of textbooks."

    "You are welcome sir," Irene demurred politely, "and it is not too much of a burden. At the very least it can be seen as a bit of training."

    "Hmmph, finding a positive outlook on such a degrading task is admirable," the vice principal harrumphed. "If only your instructor could do the same without complaining constantly as she does."

    'Hmm…he talks about her quite a lot too…'

    "If I may, sir, wouldn't that be what she is doing?" Irene pointed out. "I do not know her background, but she certainly seems to have had a very unusual one for an academy instructor."

    Vice Principal Heinrich sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. "I think you are giving Valestein too much leeway, but you have a point. Going from a bracer to an instructor is not an easy transition, especially given the unpleasant events surrounding their closing."

    'Wait…didn't Lawrence call Instructor Valestein Purple Lightning?'

    "Instructor Valestein was an A-ranked bracer?!" Irene exclaimed. "Well that certainly makes her qualified to be a combat instructor."

    "As much as she frustrates me, indeed," the vice principal agreed. "Now if only she could conduct herself with some manner of dignity, and not foist all of her clerical work onto others…though even in that case I am forced to admit that you would likely do a better job than her."

    "That is very kind of you, sir," Irene accepted the compliment gracefully. 'They do seem to talk about each other quite a lot.'

    "Oh! I apologize, you have more books to deliver, do you not?" Vice Principal Heinrich asked. "I should not keep you then. You may go."

    "Thank you, Vice Principal," Irene curtsied politely, then left the office to look for the other instructors.

    She found Instructor Altheim in the Wind Orchestra room and delivered the art book to her after a brief explanation. Bridget tried to convince her to play a bit with them, but Irene hadn't brought her violin with her, and still had three more books to deliver.

    Thanks to a suggestion from Mint, who was Instructor Makarov's niece, she found the science instructor smoking on the roof and delivered the relevant textbook to him.

    Neither Instructor Lysander nor Instructor Valestein were in the main school building, so Irene headed to the library. Her guess proved correct, and Instructor Lysander was indeed there, and while it was rather tempting to listen to his impromptu lecture about the War of the Lions, unfortunately, Irene had tasks to complete.

    Now that she thought about it, it was quite unlikely for Instructor Valestein to be on campus at all during the free day, so with a slightly put out sigh, Irene headed back to town and the Class VII dorms, clambering up the stairs to the third floor, idly noting that none of her classmates were still here. At least the magazine she had probably ordered was a lot lighter than the textbooks.

    Unsurprisingly, Instructor Valestein was drinking in her room, despite it still being fairly early in the morning.

    "Oh hey there Irene!" The fuschia haired woman greeted cheerily, cheeks flushed with beer. "How's momming around going today?"

    Irene blinked. "I don't think that's a word, instructor."

    "Well it is now!"

    "I don't think that's how it works…"

    "There you go, still momming, and at your instructor too!" Instructor Valestein laughed. "Come on, you can't do that to an adult!"

    "I suppose…" Irene murmured, "but it is a bit concerning when your instructor is intoxicated before noon, even if it is a free day."

    "Hey! I can stop anytime I want!" her instructor retorted. "But what brings you up to my room anyways? Boy troubles?"

    "No?" Irene replied, tilting her head in confusion. "Did you happen to order a magazine about travel destinations around the empire?"

    "Huh?" Instructor Valestein blinked. "Oh yeah, that. How come you have it?"

    "Someone didn't list out who the ordered books were supposed to be for," Irene explained accusingly.

    "Hey! It wasn't me this time!" her instructor objected. "I just put the magazine on the list, I wasn't the one who actually submitted it, that was Heinrich!"

    'Well that didn't take long.'

    "Why do you want a travel magazine, instructor?" Irene inquired curiously, avoiding getting directly involved in their little lover's quarrel. "All the other books were textbooks, so I presume it has something to do with our curriculum, right?" She wouldn't be that shocked if it was just for fun, but…

    "Of course! It's for your field studies," Instructor Valestein explained cheerfully. "This thing is pretty good at listing out places for people to stay, not to mention it has some notes about food and drink at all these different places."

    "Oh, is our curriculum variable?" Irene asked, "I thought that usually they are set by the time the school year begins."

    "The locations are mostly planned out," her instructor replied nonchalantly, "but the specifics are a bit more up in the air, since there are some places you can't really book a year in advance or so."

    "I guess that makes sense," Irene acknowledged. "The Phoenix Wing Inn in Ymir does not take that many reservations, though it's a bit of a special case, since it is favored by the Imperial family."

    "Oh yeah…guess I know who to talk to if we ever have a field study there," Instructor Valestien chirped, flipping through the magazine until she reached the section about Irene's hometown.

    "I thought you said the locations had been decided on?"

    "Mostly," the fuschia-haired woman amended. "But who knows? We might have to change the plans for one reason or another."

    "I suppose something like this would have more moving parts than a typical school curriculum," Irene murmured thoughtfully.

    "Hold up! You guys have North Ambrian vodka at the inn?" Instructor Valestein exclaimed. "And sake too?!"

    "Err…yes," Irene replied, eyeing her instructor worriedly. "Master Yun Ka-fai is quite partial to that kind of drink, so we have some in stock for when he visited."

    "...Now I really want to go there…"

    Irene frowned. There wasn't anything wrong with her instructor visiting Ymir, theoretically, but it just felt a bit strange thinking about it.

    "Say, Irene, you know you're my favorite student, right?" Instructor Valestein declared in a flattering voice. "Any chance your family could give me a discount if I do visit?"

    "Err…" Irene stammered. "Aren't you Fion's guardian, so shouldn't he be your favorite? And I'm afraid I'm not the one to make that decision, you will have to ask my mother and father, though I would not be surprised if they at least treat you to a drink or two."

    "Alright! Sounds like a plan! For someday…" she paused, glanced at the half empty bottle of beer on her table, before grabbing it and chugging the rest of its contents down, ignoring half of what her student said.

    Irene watched her instructor with a worried frown. This kind of drinking was unhealthy, even for a relatively young adult in good physical shape.

    "Instructor!" Irene called chidingly, "you'll never be able to find and keep a good man like this."

    Instructor Valestein choked, almost spewing out her beer as she sputtered indignantly.

    "Gaghk! Not cool, Irene!" she gasped, coughing up beer that had gone down the wrong pipe.

    "But weren't you complaining the other night about not having a gentleman friend to share a drink with?" Irene pointed out.

    "I don't know what you're talking about!" her instructor lied blatantly, "but sharing a drink means the guy has to drink too!"

    "It wouldn't help if you get drunk before meeting them though," Irene pressed, "and any man still interested after that fact likely wouldn't be one you'd want to associate with."

    "...gah, you're such a killjoy," Instructor Valestein sighed, slumping backwards on her bed. "Just let me drink away my sorrows in peace!"

    Irene used that opportunity to confiscate the bottle of beer, as well as some of the other bottles of beer left out on the instructor's shelves. "Since I am 'Team Mom', it's my prerogative to prevent unhealthy behavior," she sniffed.

    If Instructor Valestein really wanted to stop her, she could, but the older woman just gasped theatrically as Irene left the room, most likely because there had been too much alcohol in the room for her to walk off with all of it, but it was the principle of the matter!

    Of course, she wasn't going to steal from her instructor, so Irene simply placed them in the refrigerator in the kitchen. If someone else drank them, then at least the intoxication would be more spread out, or confined to a more appropriate time.

    After that, it was about time for the tutoring session with Klein's pupil, so she collected some notebooks and school textbooks and headed back into town and met with Emile, the pupil in question, and his mother Melissa.

    Despite being quite young, Emile was a bright student, and seemed to have been studying in advance of the other kids around his age. Of course, he hadn't gotten far enough that Irene couldn't help him, and she spent a couple hours reveiweing his most recent lessons, as well as providing some new information on the War of the Lions, a topic Irene was quite interested in herself.

    After that, Irene headed back to their dorms to meet with Julia.

    She found the blonde noblewoman in the kitchen, organizing some groceries on the counter.

    "Hey Irene," Julia greeted with a slight wave, "do you happen to know why there are several bottles of beer in the refrigerator?"

    "Oh? Instructor Valestein didn't drink them all already?" Irene wondered. "I put them there because she was already getting drunk in the morning, I honestly didn't expect her to leave them there."

    Julia gave her an exasperated look. "How much do you want to bet that she has more booze in her room?"

    "I think that would be a foolish wager to bet against, ahaha," Irene replied, giggling. "This is only one box out of many."

    "What is wrong with her?" Julia snorted, shaking her head.

    The two of them set about making lunch, like they had done on occasion back at St. Astraia's, for similar reasons. As good as the cooks at the schools were, there was something to be said for making food yourself, and while Julia never mentioned it explicitly, Irene was pretty sure it reminded her of her mother.

    In short order, the kitchen was filled with the savory smell of stew. It wasn't the most elegant dish, but it was tasty if done right, and that was really the more important thing about food.

    "Do you think we went a bit overboard?" Julia asked as she stirred the stew in the pot. "I think there is more than we could eat ourselves. I must have automatically measured out more since we're used to the other girls wanting some too."

    "You might be right…" Irene mused, considering the size of the pot. "Though I don't see why some of our new classmates couldn't be convinced to partake in some?"

    "Maybe we should have thought of that first," Julia laughed. "I just felt like cooking, to be honest. I didn't think that far ahead."

    "At the very least, we can save some for later," Irene suggested, collecting a few bowls just in case any of their classmates came by.

    As if on cue, Emmet poked his head into the kitchen. "Didn't feel like eating at the Student Union today?" he grunted, giving the two of them sharp looks.

    "Nope!" Julia shrugged. "Kirsche's isn't bad either, but I just felt like cooking."

    "I see," Emmet replied, sounding like he didn't see it at all. "How long will it take to finish? I need to make some food myself."

    Now that she thought about it, Irene didn't remember ever seeing Emmet eating at the Student Union. To be fair, she rarely saw him at all over there. He was a rather private person, it seemed.

    "Not interested in having some of our cooking?" Julia snarked. "What? Too lowbrow for you?"

    Emmet stared at her flatly. "I'd eat rocks if I had to. I just assumed you didn't have enough to share."

    Irene and Julia glanced at the oversized pot, then back at Emmet. Did he think they ate a lot?

    "Are you calling us fat?" Julia accused snappishly, though Irene was pretty sure she was mostly joking.

    Their purple haired classmate was unfazed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. "Do you want me to?"

    Julia blinked. "Er…not really," she replied automatically.

    "Then you aren't overweight, but there are parts of you that are fat," Emmet snorted.

    "What are you–?!" Julia paused, her outraged expression suddenly turning into an amused smirk. "Wow, you certainly know how to give backhanded compliments."

    "You're reading too much in my words," Emmet shrugged. "Didn't think you noble girls would care what a commoner has to say."

    "Why of course we do!" Julia denied, "We love hearing people stroke our egos!"

    "Is that the only thing you like getting stroked?" Emmet snarked.

    "Wouldn't you like to know?" Julia shot back.

    "Ehem!" Irene coughed loudly, trying to mask her embarrassment–really, they were so shameless! "Do you want some stew, Emmet? You look hungry."

    That seemed to snap them out of their…whatever it was. Julia flushed a bit, while Emmet looked unruffled, giving Irene a skeptical look.

    "You're just going to offer me food without any strings attached?" he asked suspiciously.

    "Well…yes?" Irene gave him a quizzical look. "We made a bit too much for just the two of us, so there's no reason not to give you some."

    That did not seem to help Emmet's suspicion, and the purple haired young man narrowed his eyes at her for a long moment, before shrugging. "I guess I can try it. Just don't get too offended if I don't like it."

    "I'll have you know Irene is a great cook," Julia sniffed.

    "It's fine if you don't like it, haha," Irene cut in, trying to get her friend to stop being so, well…herself. "Not everyone likes the same food as other people, and that's ok."

    Emmet seemed unconvinced, but glanced at the pot of stew. "It smells pretty good at least."

    Taking that as an invitation (and a way to move this awkward conversation forward), Irene filled a bowl for their classmate and set it on the table. "Here you go!"

    "Thank you," Emmet mumbled, picking up the bowl and spooning some of the stew into his mouth. 'Did he always eat while standing?'

    He paused a moment, before chewing, then swallowing. "Hmm…not bad," he complimented. "Much better than I expected for noble girls."

    "Not all of us have other people do everything for us," Julia scoffed, looking pleased with herself.

    "Really?" Emmet asked skeptically. "Aren't you the daughter of the snobbiest man in the empire–?"

    Julia snorted, clamping a hand over her mouth, before giving up and breaking into full blown laughter.

    "Emmet!" Irene cried. "Please don't be rude!"

    "What?" their purple haired classmate grunted. "Isn't it true?"

    "It probably is," Julia gasped, bending over in her mirth. "And yeah, it sometimes feels like dear old dad can't do anything by himself."

    "It's still rude to make fun of someone like that," Irene chided, though without much heat. She had never met the man, but from what Julia told her, Duke Helmut Albarea was a…difficult man to deal with.

    "Hmm…" Emmet hummed, taking another bite of stew, chewing thoughtfully. "If your father is that snobbish," he continued after swallowing, "where exactly did you learn how to cook like this?"

    "From my mother, obviously," Julia replied, and Irene blinked. She was not usually that free with that information. "But let's keep that our little secret, shall we, Millstein?"

    Emmet shrugged. "If I ever have the chance to speak with Duke Albarea, I will spare him the horror of learning that his daughter can cook."

    With Emmet's help, they actually did eat all of the stew. He must have been quite hungry.

    "Thanks for the food," their purple haired classmate grunted. "I owe you one."

    "Oh, there's no need–"

    "Just don't lock me in a room with Regnitz again, and I'll call us square," Julia demanded, giving Emmet a false cross look.

    "It really isn't a big deal," Irene demurred. "I quite like cooking."

    Emmet narrowed his eyes at her, then nodded, and left.

    "Quite the odd fellow, isn't he?" Julia mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "He's got a real chip on his shoulder for something, but it seems like he can really back it up."

    "I wonder what his family is like, if he views food as a favor," Irene murmured worriedly.

    "I can't say," Julia replied, "but there's no way that man was malnourished as a child, he is far too pretty, not to mention he's got some muscles."

    "J-julia!"

    "That is simply the truth, Irene," her friend smirked. "Haven't you heard about Ferris getting all up in a tizzy about him? She seems convinced he's some noble's bastard son."

    "That…hmmm," Irene hummed thoughtfully. "That could explain why he seems so closed off to everyone, but isn't that jumping to conclusions a bit too much?"

    "Probably," Julia shrugged. "As long as he's a good topic for distracting some vulture girls, I don't really care."

    Irene frowned. It sounded like Julia was protesting just a bit too much.

    "Irene, no!" her friend said flatly.

    "H-huh? I didn't say anything!"

    "You were thinking it though."

    "...You really are protesting too much."

    "Irene!"

    After they finished eating, Julia reiterated her intention to come along on the Old Schoolhouse investigation, and reminded of that task, Irene called the classmates that had gone the previous week. Elisha, Lawrence, Emmet and Fion were all interested, but Fion's tutoring session was scheduled first, so that was the next thing she headed to.

    The Student Council room was quiet as usual, and conveniently, both Towa and Fion were already there, the former working on more work, while the latter was napping again.

    'Did he have trouble sleeping?' Irene wondered worriedly. Fion could move quite fast if he wanted to, but he usually didn't. She frowned in thought. Often he didn't look tired, exactly. He was more…apathetic.

    In any case, it was a good thing for him to actually engage with school more.

    "Are you ready for the tutoring session?" Irene whispered to Towa, setting down her school supplies on the desk.

    "Yes, of course," Towa replied, pointing towards a rather impressive stack of worksheets that Irene had originally mistaken for paperwork.

    "Oh, then were you waiting on me? My apologies."

    "Oh no, it's fine!" Miss Herschel chirped, still keeping her voice down so as to not bother the sleeping youth. "But he looks so peaceful…I'm not sure I want to wake him up."

    Irene glanced at her classmate, and had to agree. He was laid out on his stomach on the couch, lounging as if he was some overgrown cat. Maybe a slightly too skinny cat…in that context the cookie bribery was a bit more concerning…

    "Did he eat lunch, or was he sleeping here the whole time?" Irene asked softly, turning to Towa.

    "U-umm…"

    "Did you eat lunch?" Irene demanded, narrowing her eyes at President Herschel.

    "I h-had a s-snack?" Towa stammered nervously.

    "Miss Herschel!"

    "I'm sorry!"

    "No, no, we can fix this," Irene sighed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. "Just wait a few minutes."

    She hurried downstairs, purchasing some sandwiches for lunch, as well as tea for Towa and some sweets to help with studying. She wasn't sure what Fion would like to drink, so just procured water for him.

    Her trip back to the Student Council room was quite a bit slower, since she had to balance all the food, but fortunately no one ran into her. Gaia gave her a questioning look as she passed by the open door to the Literature club, but was a bit too occupied by Dorothee talking her ear off to do anything else.

    Once back in the Student Council room, she set the acquired food down on the table.

    "Ah! You didn't have to get food for us!" Miss Herschel cried, flushing with embarrassment. "I would have gotten something to eat myself later."

    "You mean in time for dinner?" Irene sniffed. "Eat. Now."

    Sufficiently cowed, Towa came over and grabbed something to eat.

    Fion twitched a bit in his sleep, before blinking awake, his eyes finding the sandwiches remarkably fast.

    "Lunch?" He muttered sleepily, rolling over like a cat.

    "Yes, Fion," Irene confirmed. "Lunch, then studying, does that sound good?"

    "Cool," the silver haired boy drawled, rolling into a sitting position and inspecting the sandwich on the table. After a moment, he picked one up, examining it, even sniffing at it a bit, before scarfing it down with enough speed that Irene almost blinked and missed it.

    'Just what kind of life has he lived so far?'

    "Thanks," Fion grunted once he finished the sandwich, eying the remaining ones a bit hungrily.

    "You can have more, if you want," Irene offered. "I already ate."

    Fion gave her a suspicious look, grabbing another sandwich and taking a bite out of it. When Irene just sipped at her tea, he scarfed the second sandwich down as well.

    Towa was also quite enthusiastically munching down on her food, if slightly less rapidly. It seems that she had finally realized how hungry she was.

    This…wasn't a common problem for commoners, was it? Irene frowned.

    She knew that there were people who didn't have enough to eat, but that had always been more of an abstract understanding. Ymir was not a particularly wealthy town, and being so isolated, there had been times when one or a few families ran short on supplies, but they could depend on their community, especially the Schwarzers, as usually those times were harsher winters, during which the Phoenix Wing Inn saw fewer visitors anyways, so there was little reason not to part with the food stock for it on the cheap or even for free.

    Heimdallr was not like that, as the city was like many different communities crammed together, but the area around St. Astraia was on the affluent side, so she hadn't really seen that firsthand.

    Even now, she was quite certain she wasn't. Towa had enough money to pay for meals, and Fion seemed to as well, but the former was far too nonchalant about skipping meals, while the latter always ate like he was starving.

    "I-irene?" Towa called. "Is there something wrong?"

    "Oh no! I was just lost in thought," Irene waved her off, trying not to let her embarrassment show. It wasn't as if she could just ask Towa about her family's financial situation, that would be terribly rude!

    "So, where do we start?" Fion asked as he thumbed through a textbook.

    Tutoring Fion was an unusual experience, as it became clear that he never had formal schooling, but must have traveled around a fair bit, as while he knew very little about the political or even simple provincial divisions, he could list some notable landmarks from all over the Empire.

    In mathematics, he could do sums and figures without too much issue, but knew nothing about the theory behind them. In fact, that was the general trend: Fion knew quite a lot, but it seemed to come from practical use, as if he'd never even gone to Sunday School…

    "Err…Fion?" Towa started hesitantly. The silver haired boy looked at her expectantly. "U-um…did you attend Sunday School?"

    "Once or twice," Fion replied, cocking his head thoughtfully. "Maybe three, I don't remember for sure."

    "O-oh, I see…" Towa frowned, before a determined look appeared in her eyes. "In that case, we will have to make up for all those years of lost time!" She declared enthusiastically. "Right, Irene?"

    "Yes, it seems like we have a lot to cover."

    "...Hooray?" Fion looked like he was unsure of whether this was a good or a bad thing.

    After they reached a good stopping point, Towa returned to her paperwork, while Irene called the people who were interested in venturing through the Old Schoolhouse. Lawrence, Emmet and Elisha were all for it, and Julia said she would be there, but probably would take a bit longer. The boys seemed, in Irene's opinion, a little too eager to get into fights, though their help in this task was certainly invaluable.

    Fion had said he would come and that he would grab some supplies first, but as Irene went downstairs to the Academy Store, he was nowhere to be found. Did he go to the Engineering building? Either way, Irene purchased a few more curatives as a precaution, before heading over to see George about the quartz she had asked him to synthesize.

    She walked in to find the portly young man in an argument with Elisha about…bombs?!

    "Err…hello?"

    Elisha paused mid sentence to wave at her. "Hey, Irene, now as I was saying, didn't you say someone walked off with your tools the other day? If you had your toolbox trapped it wouldn't have happened!"

    "Elisha, I'm not booby trapping my toolbox!" George groaned. "It was probably someone in the club who took it, and I'm pretty sure I left them on the bench instead of my toolbox, so that wouldn't have worked anyways!"

    "I d-don't think bombs are necessary, Elisha," Irene squeaked, thrown for a loop by his casual suggestion of probably unnecessary violence. "If someone steals your things, reporting it to the faculty should get them returned shortly."

    The blonde young man frowned, then shrugged. "Eh…I guess you may have a point. There isn't much here that's super special enough to be worth stealing, except for the bow, which is a bit of a dead end, and Angie's bike–"

    "You are not booby trapping Angelica's bike!" George cried.

    "I'd make sure it wouldn't affect her!" Elisha retorted. "But that's a prototype! If someone stole it and claimed it was their invention they'd rob you of tons of cash!"

    "Would they even know how to operate one?" Irene pointed out. "I can't imagine it is all that similar to riding a normal bicycle."

    "Eh…the balance is similar, and it isn't that hard to figure out," Elisha shrugged. "But you definitely got a point there. If someone is going to steal it it would be someone who knows about it well enough, so that list is pretty small. Not like the list of people who want to steal stuff from my lab at home."

    'I suppose it makes sense that he would be more sensitive about losing his inventions, especially since the Reinford company seems to have made use of his work without his permission.'

    "Then…how did they get a hold of your work on the ARCUS?" Irene asked.

    Elisha's face darkened. "I submitted some prototypes and test results for an interface that could allow people to pilot machine more intuitively, or operate more complicated prosthetics some time ago, but my mother flagged it as an unproductive line of research, before proceeding to suck off the government for this thing," he waved his ARCUS a little bit violently, before pausing. "Uh…sorry, shouldn't be so vulgar around a lady."

    "Err…yes…I see," Irene stammered, taken aback by the sudden crude expression, "and I apologize as well, I shouldn't have pried into a family matter."

    "Eh, you're on the guinea pig team," Elisha shrugged, "so in my book you're entitled to some of the information. Anyways, aren't we going to go kill stuff in the Old Schoolhouse?"

    "...yes," Irene replied after a moment, surprised by the sudden change in topic, before a niggling thought came to mind. "But have you eaten lunch yet?"

    "Uh…no," Elisha admitted. "So?"

    Irene frowned.

    They didn't have time for a proper meal, but she did manage to drag Elisha over to the Student Union where he ordered a sandwich. As it so happened, Lawrence and Emmet were also there, the former looking through the academy store's wares while the latter leaned against a wall nearby, his staff held loosely in hand.

    She still didn't see any sign of Fion.

    "There you are," Emmet grunted in lieu of a greeting. "I'm about good to go. Is the catboy coming or are we ready to leave?"

    "Ah, hello Lady Irene, Elisha," Lawrence said in turn. "Please give me a few minutes to stock up on supplies."

    Elisha waved in response, while Irene smiled and nodded. "Thank you for agreeing to assist me again, Lawrence, Emmet. Elisha needs to eat something first, and Fion said he needed to grab some supplies as well, but I have not seen him."

    "We might find him waiting at the Dungeon," Emmet shrugged. "Guess I got ready a little early."

    "Oh! Julia said she would like to join our excursion as well," Irene added.

    "Is Regnitz coming too?" Emmet grunted. "Because I do not want to deal with the two of them again."

    "I thought Lady Julia was busy with the riding club?" Lawrence asked, packing up his purchases.

    "I don't believe Miss Regnitz is coming," Irene answered, "and Julia has always had a bit of an adventurous streak."

    "Suure, let's call it that," Emmet snorted.

    "Are you implying something?" Iren asked him primly, giving him a warning look.

    "Nothing at all," her purple haired classmate shot back, unfazed.

    "From what she told me," Lawrence interjected, stepping over to them, "Lady Julia and Lady Theresia sometimes snuck into the Barehard sewers to practice fighting monsters."

    "Did they?" Emmet asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow, "and are the monsters there particularly dangerous?"

    "It depends on where you are," his tall classmate replied. "Most of them are not that troublesome, but there are quite a few drones, which are pretty hard to kill with pure physical force."

    "Hmm…curious."

    "You boys talking about me?" Julia called out in a singsong voice as she strutted over to them, her rapier on her hip. She was still wearing her uniform, like everyone else, but was also wearing a pair of rugged looking pants under her skirt.

    "Yes," Lawrence confirmed shamelessly, "I was discussing your and Lady Theresia's adventures into–"

    "Lawrence, please, I'd rather it take as long as possible for my father to hear about that," Julia interrupted, palming her face in exasperation.

    "Definitely didn't peg you as a sewer enthusiast!" Elisha exclaimed around a mouthful of sandwich.

    "And what, exactly, are you implying?" the blonde noblewoman inquired evenly, narrowing her eyes at the other blond.

    "Sewers are fascinating!" Elisha declared. "Especially the old ones, like the ones under Heimdallr and Bareahard. The ones in Roer are more modern, but I've heard that weird stuff happens under Heimdallr, stuff bracers used to take care of, but we all know what happened to them."

    Julia stared at him blankly for a moment, before glaring at Emmet as he huffed a laugh. "Anything to say, Purp?"

    "Nothing," he replied. "Just that it suits you."

    Irene saw her friends face twitch in anger and decided that it was time to move things along. "Does everyone have everything they need?!"

    Four heads nodded in unison as the attention shifted to her.

    "Ok, then we should head to the Old Schoolhouse," she declared. "I'll call Fion to meet us there when he's ready."

    "I'm ready now though," Fion said from right behind her.

    "Eep!" Irene squeaked, rounding on her younger classmate. "Don't do that! Please!"

    She was lucky that the dining area was mostly empty, or else she might have died of embarrassment.

    "How did you manage to wrangle this group of lugheads last week?" Julia muttered under her breath as they made their way towards the Old Schoolhouse.

    "They were excited to go into the dungeon? I think?" Irene suggested. "And they focus a lot more when there are monsters to fight."

    "Boys," Julia sighed, shaking her head.

    "They're a lot less of a hassle to deal with than St. Astraia girls though," Irene observed.

    "Including Elise?" her friend asked teasingly.

    "Elise is a perfectly respectable young lady, she would never act so shamefully!" Irene huffed indignantly.

    "You keep talking like that, someone might think you fancy her yourself," Julia joked, earning herself a scandalized swipe from the dark haired girl.

    "Are they always like this?" Emmet grumbled at Lawrence.

    "How would I know? I am not with them all the time," the large man replied unhelpfully.

    Emmet sighed, but did not ask anything else.

    "So who's linking up?" Elisha asked. "We got an even number this time, so everyone should be able to."

    "What we did last time worked pretty well," Emmet remarked, "so we could do the same, but have Fion link with Lady Sewer Diver."

    "Emmet!" Irene cried indignantly, but Julia just laughed.

    "I did not dive into the sewer, for shame!" she snickered.

    "Sewer Delver then," Emmet amended, rolling his eyes.

    "See, was that so hard?"

    They entered the Old Schoolhouse, walking through the familiar room where Instructor Valestein had introduced herself, then passed through the doors leading to the stairs–

    "Wait, what?!"

    There were no longer any stairs.

    Instead, there was a platform in the middle of the room with a square plinth in the middle.

    "That…was definitely not here before," Julia remarked. "Or am I going crazy?"

    "Correct on the former, incorrect on the latter," Emmet replied, recovering first, although he hadn't seemed all that surprised.

    "Why, thank you–"

    "You are already crazy."

    "Awww! That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!"

    Irene gave her friend a confused look as she practically simpered. Julia wasn't crazy, was she? Why was she acting like this?

    "So…how do we investigate?" Lawrence wondered. "I don't see another door."

    "That could be a lift," Elisha suggested, stepping onto the platform and looking at the glowing script on the plinth. "Yeah…this looks like an elevator, but how the hell is there one here?! The ones in Roer are nowhere near as old as this building."

    "Obviously built by different people then," Emmet concluded, walking up next to the blond.

    "Well, duh!" Elisha grunted. "But that means the technology was developed previously, has my family been patenting stuff based on some secret hidden magic dungeon thing, or something?"

    "Is that actually illegal?" Lawrence asked, joining them on the platform.

    "Not sure," the Reinford shrugged. "Though I thought the Church preferred to check on the old stuff in case they judge it an artifact."

    "Ah, yes," Emmet drawled, "so called 'premature gifts of the goddess,' as if some stuffy old robes gives one insight into such matters."

    "I am not sure if anyone believes that the robes are what gives people insight," Lawrence mused.

    "Can we go down?" Fion grumbled.

    "Huh?" Elisha blinked. "Oh yeah! Everyone get on the platform–" he glanced over his shoulder. "Everyone is on the platform." He pushed some sort of mechanism and the whole platform lowered smoothly, the room disappearing, replaced by a similar looking room.

    "This device can take us back up, right?" Julia asked, some trepidation in her tone.

    "It should," Elisha replied, "though it looks like only two other floors are available at the moment, for whatever reason."

    "Do…we have to kill the powerful monster at the end of each floor to unlock the next one?" Lawrence wondered.

    "That seems to track with what has happened so far," Emmet agreed.

    "Did…we walk into an adventure novel without realizing it?" Julia grumbled, glancing around the room skeptically.

    "We did this floor last week," Fion noted as the doors to the floor slowly shut by themselves.

    "Oh, did you scout ahead?" Irene asked.

    "Not the whole floor, just enough to see it was the same."

    "Thank you, but please at least tell someone before running off by yourself, okay?"

    "Okay."

    "In that case, we should go down another floor," Emmet suggested. "No reason to trod over the beaten path again."

    "Sounds like a plan." Elisha hit another mechanism and the platform descended again, leading to a room that looked much like the one above it.

    The six of them entered the second floor, which looked similar to the previous one, but was somewhat harder to navigate, requiring them to find some levers to open passages through the floor.

    The monsters here were also notably stronger. Not enough to be seriously threatening, but they could no longer bull through them as easily as they had the previous floor.

    This cause for concern, however, only made the boys more excited.

    "So each floor is more difficult than the last, what fun!" Lawrence exclaimed as he smashed apart a clay doll.

    "Seems like a great place to test stuff, yeah," Elisha concurred, throwing something dangerous at a group of animated stone blocks.

    "It is testing us," Emmet corrected, sounding very certain about something so unknown, the art he cast in the meantime sending a pair of lantern spiders to the floor in twitching heaps.

    "Not a great place for a nap," Fion decided.

    'Was he seriously considering that?!'

    Irene and Julia, on the other hand, were not quite as enthusiastic.

    "So what exactly are we looking for," Julia grumbled. "If there's just another big monster at the end like you guys found last time, what would that even tell us?"

    "I am not sure," Irene hummed, most of her mind occupied by avoiding a swipe from another monster. "That we have to clear each floor before we can continue on to the next one?"

    "This all seems rather contrived," Julia sighed, finishing off the monster Irene had injured.

    "It is," Emmet agreed. "It's set up like a test."

    "A test for what? Boneheadedness?" Julia snarked, shaking off some monster remains from her rapier.

    "Probably not directly," Emmet replied. "Though that probably would be a relatively common trait in people who actually go through with it."

    "Are you calling me boneheaded?"

    "What do you think your skull is made out of?"

    "Oh look, another one of those doors," Lawrence announced. "Are we at the end of the floor?"

    "Probably, there's another teleporter over there," Fion added, waving in the direction of an inert teleporter.

    "Teleporter?" Julia muttered skeptically. "What the hell is this place?"

    "What do you think we are here for anyways?" Emmet grumbled.

    "Oh look! Another one of those mini-orbal factories!" Elisha whooped, dashing over to the device in question, pulling a surprising amount of instruments out of the backpack he was wearing.

    "Here we go again," Fion muttered.

    "Perhaps we should deal with the monster behind that door first?" Lawrence suggested, to Elisha's protest.

    "It would not be a poor idea to rest and prepare a bit first," Irene pointed out. "And Elisha's investigation of the device could be important to add to our report."

    "You speak true, Lady Irene," Lawrence conceded, "in all likelihood, the monster behind this door will be more challenging than the ones we fought on the floor above."

    "Nap time then," Fion concluded, sitting down against a wall and immediately nodding off.

    "Err…" Irene blinked, glancing at Lawrence worriedly. "Does Fion get enough sleep at night?"

    "I can't say for certain," the tall man answered with a shrug. "I have not heard him leave his room during the night, but that is hardly definitive, as I am asleep for most of the night, and he is quiet enough I might not notice even if I were awake."

    "Napping everywhere can't be healthy," Irene worried.

    "Is that really your main concern right now?" Emmet asked drily, sitting down cross legged, before closing his eyes.

    'Hmm…might as well try some meditation to pass the time.'

    After a short rest, they managed to pull Elisha away from the orbal device. Despite not resting like the rest of them, he was somehow even more energetic than the rest of them.

    "Alright! Let's go blow up that monster so I can get back to testing!" He declared.

    "Assuming there actually is a monster this time," Julia muttered. "Maybe there won't be."

    There wasn't a monster behind the door. There were three.

    Emmet cursed as he saw the floating statues. "Don't fight them all at once, take them down one at a time!" he barked. "Elisha, Fion, distract the other two!"

    "Gotcha!" In response, Elisha tossed a flashbang at the right hand one. Fion followed up with a hail of gunfire at the center one, doing little damage but definitely grabbing its attention.

    The rest of the group converged on the leftmost one.

    A beam of energy struck Lawrence in the chest, but he pushed through, bringing his sword down in a crushing blow, causing it to stagger. Unfortunately, these things proved much more resilient than the one on the floor above, and did not topple over.

    Still, Lawrence's blow gave Irene an opening to launch a series of rapid strikes, looking for a weak point, but doing little visible damage. Unlike the other large monsters they fought so far, these did not have as easily determined weak points.

    A burst of fire from Emmet proved similarly ineffective, but the jagged sections of ice launched by Julia's art dealt significantly more damage.

    Despite his enemies' defenses, Lawrence was undeterred, gripping his sword by the blade and smashing into the floating monster with the crossguard, the impact strong enough to crack stony hide and send debris flying.

    Irene struck out into the damaged sections, her blades finding better purchase, but it was hard to tell if it was actually hurting the thing.

    Julia slashed her rapier through the air, the runes on the blade glowing with blue light as energy arced out, slicing into the monster before seeping into the cracks in its armor.

    A bolt of lightning from Emmet struck the crumbling armor, following the glowing energy left behind by the Rune Blade, and the monster screeched in pain.

    The sound hammered into their skulls, and Irene felt like her bones were rattling, only the fact that her hands were occupied kept her from clamping them over her ears. To make matters worse, the other two started screaming as well, heedless of Fion's or Elisha's attempt to distract them.

    But their attack left them vulnerable, and Lawrence rammed his sword into the mouth of the closest one, cutting off the sound and sending it slamming into the ground as he threw his weight onto it.

    Irene drove her blades into the downed monster even if her eardrums felt like bursting, and she felt relief as it began to crumble apart.

    Suddenly, the screaming stopped, the remaining monsters having run out of breath, or whatever the equivalent was. Even so, her ears were ringing and she was pretty sure she was currently deafened.

    A wash of healing energy rushed over them as Julia gasped out a Breath art, and Irene turned to see Emmet preparing to cast at the center monster while Elisha hurled something at the right side monster in a two handed throw.

    Fion fired, hitting the thrown object right as it struck the monster and Irene was forced to look away as a flash of light and burst of concussive force slammed into her, sending her staggering back.

    When she blinked her vision back into focus, only the center fiend remained. It reared back to scream again–but no sound manifested, as if something had cut out its voice.

    Wasting no time, Fion dashed towards it, peppering it with gunfire, his movements sped up rapidly by a time acceleration art, his shots exploding over the creature with more force than Irene had seen before.

    Seeing the lack of effect, the monster fired a beam, striking Julia in the leg as she failed to fully dodge in time, knocking the blonde to the ground.

    Lawrence planted his feet, his sword at shoulder height and pointed at the remaining monster, before hurling himself forwards with a rumbling growl, a crackling charge of wind building up around him as he went.

    He slammed into the floating fiend with a thunderous crash, his sword lancing through the monster, impaling it on the long blade as he brought it down to the ground.

    Irene flashed forwards in his wake, her sword flashing out in a deadly arc, cutting through the damaged monster and through whatever vital area it had.

    The last monster fell apart, and the group let out a collective sigh of relief.

    "Alright, what the hell?!"

    Irene spun around at Julia's outraged cry to see her pinned to the ground by Emmet, who sported a rapier cut along his cheek.

    "The beam must have disoriented you," Emmet grunted. "I'll let you go if you don't swipe at me again."

    "No, no, I'm perfectly fine with your hands on me," the blonde noble snarked from the ground.

    Emmet let go with an annoyed scowl, backing well away from any retaliation. "suit yourself."

    "Was that truly necessary?" Lawrence growled.

    "Maybe not," their purple haired classmate grunted. "But I wasn't taking any chances after she almost stabbed me through the neck."

    "Oh, aren't there some things that can make your head spin around so you can't really tell friend from foe?" Elisha asked, digging a finger in his ear with a wince.

    "That was probably what this was, yes," Emmet concurred.

    "Would fit, enemies were annoying," Fion grumbled, kicking some of the remains. "Now I don't think I can nap properly."

    "Forget that, come here you!" Julia growled, reaching for Emmet, who stepped away from her. "Hold still! It won't work right otherwise!"
    Their purple haired classmate was unconvinced, and continued to sidestep the blonde noble's attempts.

    "Tch! Fine!" she pulled out her ARCUS, running through an incantation before anyone could think to stop her and–oh it was Tear.

    The cut on Emmet's cheek closed as healing energy washed over him. He looked a bit surprised. "...Thank you."

    "Hmph!" Julia sniffed. "This is merely an apology for hitting you, nothing more."

    "Saves me the trouble of doing it myself, I guess," Emmet muttered.

    Julia glared at him, but bit down whatever retort he had in mind.

    "Is anyone else injured?" Lawrence asked, glancing around, seemingly oblivious to the burn marks on his jacket.

    "Why are we shouting?" Fion groaned.

    "Because we're probably all still slightly deafened!" Elisha explained brightly. "But I feel fine. I'm gonna go look at the thing a bit more now!" He dashed through the automatic doors again pausing briefly to declare that the teleportation device was glowing again.

    The rest of the group joined him in the other room to rest and lick their wounds. Fortunately, most of them didn't have any serious external injuries, but Fion was bleeding from his ears a bit, while Julia and Lawrence had some burns from the monsters' beams.

    Irene fussed over Fion initially, but after a while, his hearing returned like everyone else's so the damage didn't seem that severe.

    "You should probably still check with Instructor Beatrix," she suggested, "just to make sure."

    "Sure thing, mom," Fion agreed. "She lets me nap there anyways."

    'Mom?!' Irene flushed red at the comment, elbowing Julia quickly as her blonde friend started snickering.

    "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

    "He was bleeding!"

    "I'm okay."

    "Well, fortunately–oh, I was being a bit loud, wasn't I?" Lawrence lowered his voice to normal levels now that their hearings had returned. "Anyway, it's good that most of us are largely unharmed. Shall we go and report back to the Principal?"

    "Give me a few more minutes!" Elisha called from where he was poking the device with a variety of tools.

    "I still have things I want to do today," Julia grumbled, "can we get out of this dungeon, please?"

    Eventually, they were able to pull Elisha away, taking the teleporter (and wasn't that a strange thing to feel normal?) back to the beginning of the floor and taking the elevator back up to the entrance. It didn't seem like any other floor had been opened. Even if they were, they were too tired to do any more exploring for the day.

    They reported the findings to Principal Vandyck, who had not ever heard anything about an elevator. Instructor Valestein had also found nothing of the sort during her own investigations.

    "Even so, while we probably found out the reason for the noises people reported, we did not find anything to explain what the purpose of the building is," Irene concluded.

    "It seems to be a test, of some sort," Lawrence suggested, "with each floor being more challenging than the next. But we have not found any information that could point us to what the test is for."
    "Hmm…" Principal Vandyck hummed thoughtfully. "When he built this school, Emperor Dreichels gave instructions that the Old Schoolhouse should be left as it is until the 'Promised Day' comes. No further explanation."

    "Well that doesn't seem particularly helpful," Elisha observed flippantly. "Promised by whom? For what?"

    "Another War of the Lions?" Emmet snarked, drawing perplexed and outraged looks from the others. "What? Wouldn't that be the natural conclusion? The War of the Lions was a defining period in Emperor Dreichels' life, so it would follow naturally that whatever reason he wanted this dungeon kept around is related to that in some way."

    "I…can see where you're coming from, but isn't that a biiiit of a reach?" Instructor Valestein replied.

    "Perhaps, but there is some merit to the thought," Principal Vandyck mused. "A good portion of his reign involved dealing with the impact the war had all over the Empire, so the idea of Emperor Dreichels preparing something in the event of another civil war is not absurd. Still, that does not explain the Old Schoolhouse."

    "Looks like you kids will have to keep dungeon diving for the foreseeable future!" Instructor Valestein chirped.

    "Indeed," the principal agreed.

    "That is fine with me," Lawrence replied, looking excited at the prospect.

    Irene nodded as well. It was starting to get more dangerous, but she would not back down from the task handed to her.

    "Well then! Good work, kiddos!" their instructor called. "But we aren't going to figure out anything else talking like this, so I'll see you later!" She strolled out of the office as if she had no care in the world.

    Principal Vandyck looked amused, but dismissed them as well.

    "So…" Julia began once they were outside. "Is everyone else hungry as well?"

    "Yes," Lawrence replied. "Shall we head over to the Student Union for dinner?"

    "Eh, I was going to work on the orbal bike," Elisha replied, "but I am pretty hungry."

    "I like food," Fion agreed.

    "I have something I need to take care of," Emmet grumbled, already walking away from the group. "You all have fun."

    "Oh come now! Everyone else will be there," Julia called after him. "You'll be missing out!"

    "I'll survive the agony," their purple haired classmate retorted, waving over his shoulder without looking back.

    "Where does he go to, anyways?" Lawrence wondered, glancing at Elisha. "I'm pretty sure he's doing training somewhere, but I've never seen him in the usual places."

    "Beats me," the blond replied. "But anyways, food?"

    'Does Julia make Emmet uncomfortable? Or does he just prefer his solitude? Either way, I hope we aren't bothering him too much. And that he gets enough to eat.'

    "Come now, Irene, don't flake out on me now!"

    "Ah! Apologies, I'm coming!"

    When they reached the student union, the group ended up breaking apart anyways, with Elisha being accosted by Angelica who dragged him over to examine something with George. Friedel was there as well and insisted on speaking with Lawrence and Irene about how useful the Old Schoolhouse was for training, much to Julia's chagrin. Fortunately, Theresia and her friend Emily were there to provide some non-sword conversations.

    After she was finished eating, Irene excused herself to return to the Student Council room, but Julia called her over before she could leave.

    "How long do you see the Student Council work taking today?" her friend asked.

    "I am not sure. Hopefully only a couple hours."

    Julia frowned. "If you have time, would you mind meeting me in the library after you are finished?"

    "Oh! Of course!" Irene smiled. "Did you find an interesting book?"

    "I was hoping for your assistance finding one, actually."

    "Then I would be more than happy to help."

    With that meeting set up, Irene returned to the Student Council room and reported the tasks completed.

    To her surprise, she found Towa busily explaining some paperwork to another brunette commoner student, though one notably taller than her.

    "Oh, hello Irene!" President Herschel cried, waving to her. "This is Lotte! She decided she wants to join the Student Council too!"

    "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lotte. I am Irene Schwarzer." Irene smiled, glancing over their new member. She looked rather unremarkable compared to some of the other students, but seemed determined enough.

    "Nice to meet you too!" Lotte exclaimed, eying the red uniform curiously. "You're in Class Seven, right? Did you guys really get into a fight with the Provincial Army?!"

    "I am, yes. No, we did not," Irene replied evenly, glad to see she was enthusiastic, even if it was directed in the wrong direction at the moment. "But we can save the introductions for another time if President Herschel is showing you something important."

    "No, no, I was just showing her around," Towa insisted. "Irene is also a new member this year, she joined about two months ago and has been a really big help so far!"

    "You're too kind, Miss President," Irene demurred.

    "Not at all! You've been a big help, Irene," Towa reiterated, "there's so much I wouldn't have been able to get done without you."

    "It would have taken you a bit longer perhaps," Irene compromised, turning to their newcomer. "Hopefully things will be able to run smoother after you get used to everything, Lotte, so shall we get started?"

    "Y-yes, of course!"

    It seemed that Lotte didn't have that much experience in administrative matters, but she had neat handwriting and was able to check paperwork just fine, so while it took some time to explain things to her, the total amount of working time ended up about the same.

    "Geez, do you guys always work so late?" Lotte mumbled as they finished up.

    "Oh no, not normally," Towa assured her.

    "Usually we had to work later to get everything done," Irene amended, pausing for a moment as their new member's eyes widened comically. "But we've managed to cut down on the backlog, so now this time is more normal."

    "Irene! Don't scare away our new member!" Towa cried, waving her arms in an entirely unthreatening fashion.

    "I was simply making sure she knew what she was getting into," Irene countered. "It would be best if she didn't join with false information, isn't that right, President Herschel?"

    "Uh…is there a story there?" Lotte blurted out.

    "My instructor volunteered me into helping the Student Council," Irene explained. "And after seeing President Herschel's workload, I couldn't not help so I joined properly."

    "Oh that was so embarrassing! Please don't bring that up!"
    "Blame Instructor Valestein, not yourself."

    Lotte's giggling brought their attention back to her, and the other brunette waved her hands apologetically. "Sorry, sorry, it's just the Student Council seems a lot less intimidating now. I knew Towa was nice, but I didn't expect things to be this light hearted."

    "It's mostly just the two of them."

    The three Student Council members practically jumped in their seats, Lotte nearly falling out of her chair as she whirled around.

    "F-fion, please stop doing that!" Towa whined.

    The silver-haired boy chuffed as he rolled over on the couch. "Door was open and you were busy."

    "Uhh…who?" Lotte squeaked, face turning ridiculously red.

    "That's Fion," Irene explained. "He's not part of the Student Council but he likes to nap here because it's quiet." The boy in question waved laconically. "He sometimes brings cookies to share."

    "O-oh…um…hi. I'm Lotte," Lotte introduced herself awkwardly.

    Fion waved again, before going back to sleep.

    "...Can I say your class is weird, Irene?" the new girl muttered after a long moment.

    Irene and Towa simply nodded.

    "As much as I would like chatting more, I do have an appointment with Julia," Irene announced, "so I will be heading out, if there's nothing pressing left."

    "No, we'll be fine!" Towa replied, waving goodbye.

    "Ooh, did you order some nice clothes?" Lotte asked excitedly.

    Irene tilted her head in confusion, before realization struck her. "Oh no, not Julia from Le Sage, Julia Albarea."

    Lotte's eyes bugged out of her head. "You're friends with Lady A-albarea?! Then does that mean…ah!" She bowed frantically. "I'm so sorry Lady Schwarzer–"

    "Oh no, no, please! There's no need for that!" Irene cut in frantically. "My father is the Baron of a small town, so while I am a part of the nobility, we're not much higher than commoners in the hierarchy."

    While that seemed to have helped calm Lotte's fears, she now looked mortified. "S-still…I probably shouldn't have treated you so casually. Maah! Your class is so confusing! How am I supposed to know who's a noble and who isn't if you all have the same uniform?!"

    "If it's any consolation, none of the nobles in my class would mind too much," Irene consoled her.

    "Really?! Even Lady Albarea?"

    "Well…" Irene considered, "she might give you a bit of a hard time, but she won't really be offended."

    "...oh," Lotte frowned. "Guess I shouldn't have made assumptions like that then."

    "To be fair, there are plenty of nobles who are…easily offended, shall we say," Irene replied. "So I understand your concerns. Just know that for Class Seven, it isn't something you need to worry about that much."

    "Wow, thanks Lady Irene!" Lotte cried. "Everyone here is so nice!"

    "We do try!" President Herschel chirped happily.

    "Though Lady Rogner and Lord Florald are perhaps too friendly," Irene mused.

    "W-wait…who?!" Lotte squeaked.

    "Did the paperwork take longer than expected?" Julia asked when Irene finally arrived at the library, looking up from the book in front of her.

    "Not quite," Irene replied. "Sorry for the delay, but we had a new member join the Student Council, so it took a bit of time to get her situated."

    "Oh, in that case it's fine," her friend replied. "You all do seem just a tad overworked, though hopefully this new addition actually helps."
    "Well…Lotte seems enthusiastic, so that seems to be the case."

    "Good, otherwise you might end up staying in that room for far too long."

    "Julia!"

    "Can you even deny it?"

    Irene sighed. "Not really, but enough about that. What exactly did you want my help for?" She glanced over the books Julia had arranged on the desk she'd commandeered. "And why do you have all these books about Erebonian folklore?"

    "The Old Schoolhouse itself was not particularly forthcoming about anything, so I sought some outside sources," Julia explained, gesturing towards a hefty tome on Erebonian history. "Not too surprisingly, the more official and scholarly accounts don't have much to say about it, if it was mentioned at all."

    "And you think folklore will have more information?" Irene asked skeptically. "Those are famously unreliable."

    "Of course, but with the strange nature of the Schoolhouse, there is a good chance any useful information was dismissed by historians as old wives' tales," Julia countered, "so we may as well see if there's anything there. Not to mention that, as much as old women love to gossip and lie, they have long memories."

    "You do have a point," Irene conceded. "So you just want me to assist you in looking through these folklore collections?"

    "It would be nice. I like reading as much as the next noble girl, but there's a lot of stories," Julia explained with a dry smirk. "And perhaps even more versions of each story, many of them obviously changed by one enterprising author or another for their own ends."

    Their delve into folklore did not produce many tangible results, but they did come across quite a few interesting stories Irene had not heard about, such as one that suggested that the Eisenritter derived their name from a giant golem knight who had sworn loyalty to Saint Sandlot due to her courage and chivalry.

    "Do you think Lawrence would know more about this?" Julia wondered.

    "Err…haven't you known him for longer?" Irene replied, "I have never been to Legram, let alone to Castle Lohengrin where the story says this knight appeared."

    "I…may have asked him not to tell me any more stories about things of this sort," Julia admitted.

    "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you asked him anyways."

    "And go back on my word?" Julia sniffed. "Perish the thought!"

    "Come now, Sir Lawrence isn't one to hold a grudge over something like that, hehe," Irene giggled, covering her mouth with one hand.

    "Oh, so you know him well enough to make that judgment?" Julia countered quickly.

    "Ahaha…I wouldn't say that…" Irene backpedaled, feeling her cheeks heat up. "But if he was always so eager to talk about stories from his home, I think he would likely just be happy to talk about them again."

    "That is not the point at all, Irene," Julia snorted.

    "Errm…excuse me, Lady Albarea, Lady Schwarzer, do you mind if I speak with you for a moment?"

    Irene turned to see a platinum haired girl in an upper class uniform curtsying politely.

    "Not at all," Julia replied with a nod, "though I am afraid you have us at a disadvantage."

    "Oh! Pardon me, I am Karina Wittelsbuch," she introduced herself, "forgive me for prying, but I could not help but overhear your conversation, and I thought there might be one avenue of investigation you hadn't considered."

    "Oh? Do tell," Julia prompted. "Now that I think about it, you do seem to be at the library quite often."

    "Of course, I quite love reading stories," Lady Wittelsbuch declared. "Especially novels, even if they are a bit…inappropriate for my station."

    "So is that why you are not a part of the literature club?" Julia asked.

    "Oh…errm..no," Wittelsbuch frowned. "That is mostly because Dorothee is…a bit too fixated on a certain type of incredibly crude stories." She shook her head as if to shake off some errant thoughts. "Back to my original suggestion, there are some novels in recent years that have incorporated various folklore into their telling, such as Red Moon Rose."

    "Is that the novel about the Vampire Murders?" Irene chimed in, recalling some of her fellow students at St. Astraia mentioning something of the sort.

    "Indeed!" Wittlesbuch chirped. "It is quite the interesting read, ahaha."

    "And what about the accuracy of the folklore used?" Irene questioned. "If it's just another reimagining, I am not sure how helpful it would be for us."

    "We aren't really getting anywhere this way," Julia pointed out. "It was a long shot to begin with, so we might as well try reading something that is at least entertaining to read. Thank you for your recommendation, Lady Wittelsbuch."

    "You are very welcome, Lady Albarea," Lady Karina bowed respectfully. "I'm glad you found my suggestion helpful." An excited gleam sparked in her eyes. "Please let me know what you think of the book, I have many others to recommend if you are interested."
    "Of course!" Julia replied, and with that, they had another person helping them in their largely unfruitful search.

    Despite her polite introduction, Lady Karina showed herself to be an enthusiastic reader, and gradually slipped out of her formal speech as she gushed about some of her favorite novels. While her commentary was actually quite insightful, it was unfortunately not really relevant to what they were looking for, and also meant they spent far more time in the library than they expected.

    As such, Irene and Julia returned to the dormitory when the sun was well below the horizon.

    "On further consideration, there is something else that strikes me as odd," Julia remarked suddenly as they reached their dorms. "Why is it that the Schoolhouse only seemed to react when one of us investigated?"

    "What do you mean?" Irene asked. "Do you think the elevator won't work for Instructor Valestein?"
    "I do not know about that," her friend replied, opening the door and stepping through. "But she did not see the elevator when she investigated between your excursion last month and the one today. Nor did she notice any floor layout changes from when we got dropped in there and when you all investigated last month, correct?"

    "Yes, that's true," Irene confirmed, following Julia into the dorms, a thoughtful frown forming on her face.

    "In that case, why did it only change when some of us went down there, and not Instructor Valestein?"

    "That…is yet another mystery," Irene murmured.

    "You know, as much as it sounds ridiculous, I'm starting to see more and more sense in Lawrence's thought that it is a test," Julia mused.

    "How does that explain why it did not change for Instructor Valestein?" Irene asked. "Is she too strong? Or is the test only for students?"

    "It can't be the latter," Julia dismissed, "as Principal Vandyck said that the structure predates the school. The former…I do not think we have any way of determining that."

    "And for the former, I can't think of any reason why some sort of test like this would screen out people who are too strong," Irene mused. "There must be a different criteria."

    "I love investigating with so little information," her friend huffed as they made their ways up the stairs.

    Irene shared her uncertainty, but didn't give it further voice.

    When they reached their floor, the two of them found a nervous looking Elia waiting for them.

    "Is there something you need, Craig?" Julia asked, not unkindly, but perhaps a bit more snappishly than she needed to be.

    "U-um, did you guys go into the Old Schoolhouse today?" the ginger haired girl asked, looking a bit intimidated by them for some reason, but still determined not to let that stop her.

    "We did," Irene confirmed. "Do you want to know about what happened in there?"

    "No–well yes," Ellia answered. "But I was wondering if I could come along next time?"

    "Well I don't see why not," Julia replied. "Principal Vandyck did leave this task to the whole of our class, didn't he, Irene?"

    "Yes, though I am not sure why he did not have Instructor Valestein announce it to our whole class," Irene added.

    "...Did she forget to mention it?" her blonde friend snorted.

    "Julia! Please don't speak ill of our instructor that way!" Irene cried in mock offense.

    "That…uh…kind of sounds like something she would do," Ellia murmured.

    "That aside, we'd be glad to have you along, Ellia," Irene offered with a gentle smile, before a serious look formed on her face. "Though be ready, as the monsters this week were quite a bit more dangerous than last week."

    "Got it, I'll be ready!" Ellia declared, pumping her fist excitedly. "I won't let everyone's help go to waste!"

    "Well, best of luck with that," Julia said, "is there anything else you want from us?"

    "O-oh no, good night, Lady Albarea, Lady Schwarzer!" Ellia scampered off to her room, leaving the two nobles a bit perplexed.

    "She can't seem to decide if she wants to be timid or brash, can she?" Julia muttered.

    "We're…not that scary, are we?" Irene wondered.

    "You're not that scary unless you have a sword, paperwork, or a sandwich in hand," Julia laughed. "As for myself? It's my father, not anything I do."

    "I do wish we could all get along," Irene sighed, glancing down the hallway where Ellia had disappeared into her room.

    Her friend sighed. "They don't see me. They hear my name and see my father. Until they see me, I don't think I can bring myself to be more than cordial."

    "Given how your last field study went, this can't go on forever," Irene pointed out. "I'm a bit worried Instructor Valestein will force the issue."

    "What? You think she'll put us in the same group again, perish the thought," Julia sniffed. "That would be too much work for her."

    Irene wasn't so sure. As unorthodox as their instructor was, she did seem to care about teaching them, whether for her own reasons or to impress the Vice Principal enough for him to harangue her less often.

    She and Julia said good night and went to their rooms, and Irene began working through her assignments, listening to Radio Trista for some calming background noise.

    Midterms were not too far into the future, so she would have to start preparing.

    The first half of the following week passed without too much of note happening, though Irene was pleased to see that Fion at least tried to pay attention in class, relegating his naps to in between periods, though he still seemed to have trouble following along in some of the lectures, especially in math, arts and literature.

    Despite Emmet's queries, Instructor Valestein refused to disclose the location or group assignments for the upcoming field study, to which he grew increasingly annoyed. While Irene was not quite as peeved, she did share his confusion about why that information was being kept from the class. She knew from her Student Council work that they were probably going to Bareahard or Saint Arkh, but Towa had told her it was not supposed to be announced until later.

    And while Irene wasn't particularly close to Masha, the green haired girl seemed to be getting more and more agitated about something. She couldn't pick up on the exact cause, but her normally outspoken classmate seemed tense, even coming close to snapping at Julia in class once or twice.

    Something clearly needed to be done, but Irene was likely associated with Julia in their classmate's mind, so she was not sure what she could do.

    When the middle of the week arrived, so did their practical exam.

    Like last month, Instructor Valestein brought out the strange doll, though there were a few differences, with its joints looking like they were reinforced since their last study.

    "Alright! Irene, Lawrence, Gaia and Ellia, you're up!" their instructor called, before waving a warning finger at Lawrence. "Now, this month, your challenge is to interrupt it from casting an art, at least once–no, twice! So no smashing it into the ground and sitting on it so it can't move."

    "Very well," Lawrence acknowledged. "I am unsure how this is relevant training, but I will take the challenge."

    "Nah, she just doesn't want to have to get it fixed as much," Elisha snorted. "Not sure why she cares, we did most of the work."

    "Yeah, but none of you got lectured at for reckless use of school resources," Instructor Valestein groused. "It isn't even the school's!"

    'Hmm…I will have to make another note of this.'

    Irene linked with Lawrence, while Ellia linked with Gaia, and while they weren't that familiar fighting alongside the Nord, she fit into the rhythm easily, and they corralled the automaton until it tried to cast something, at which point Irene lunged in and struck at its core, forcing it to abandon the art. They ended up repeating this process twice more, before Lawrence knocked it out of commission gently (at least for him).

    The other group, composed of Julia, Elisha, Fion, Emmet and Masha, again did not do so well. Emmet linked with Fion, while Elisha linked with Julia. This proved perhaps a mistake, as while the linked people worked ok with each other, leaving the person with a shotgun without the added coordination caused…problems.

    Technically, they met the requirements, as Emmet managed to disrupt the automaton's casting twice, but Julia and Masha kept getting into each other's way and Fion stopped closing after nearly getting winged by one of Masha's shots. Elisha, for once, didn't throw any explosives, instead switching to punching the automaton when Fion backed off, and Emmet eventually threw up his hands in frustration and blasted the automaton into submission with repeated lightning arts with little care for who else was in the way.

    By the end, Masha and Julia were both winded, some parts of their hair standing on end, Elisha was favoring his side where he had been hit with some friendly fire, some of his hair also frizzy with static, while Emmet looked no worse for wear save for the almost audible grinding of his teeth. Fion just looked like he wanted to take a nap.

    All in all, none of them looked happy about their performance, and neither was Instructor Valestein.

    "I knew this was going to be a bit of a struggle, but I honestly expected better of you," she chided them, for once actually with a lecturing tone. "I hope the two of you have a good long think about what you messed up on here, 'cause we can all see the main reason for this result was you." She gave Masha and Julia a stern look, before turning to Emmet with narrowed eyes. "And while you did meet the criteria, and I can understand your frustration, that does not give you leave for friendly fire, am I understood?"

    "Yes," Emmet growled back, eyes burning with distaste, while Masha and Julia just glared at their instructor, refusing to look at each other.

    'Why did what Instructor Valestein said make Emmet even angrier? No…it seems like it reminded him of something else.'

    Still, it didn't appear as if that did anything to actually bridge the distance, perhaps only making it worse.

    "Anyways, that concludes today's practical exam," their instructor announced. "Next, I will be talking about our field study. Everyone, take one of these envelopes!"

    Irene joined the rest of classmates and took a hold of one, pulling out the information sheet and reading over the assignment.

    'Oh dear…'

    Group A was comprised of herself, Julia, Emmet, Fion, and Masha, while Group B was made up of her group last month, with herself exchanged with Gaia. The former was headed to Bareahard, while the other was headed to Saint Arkh.

    'Why do I have a sneaking suspicion that this is our instructor trying to pass off work again?'

    "Bareahard and Saint Arkh," Gaia hummed. "These are both important cities in the Empire, no?"

    "Yep!" Ellia replied. "Bareahard is the capital of Kreuzen province, while Saint Arkh is the capital of Sutherland province."

    "Seems reasonable," Lawrence mused. "Presumably that means we will be headed to Roer and Ordis at some point."

    "Not the biggest problem here," Fion muttered, a second before Masha managed to collect her irate hissing into coherent words.

    "Is this some kind of sick joke?!" She shrieked. "Just what are you trying to pull here, instructor?!"

    "I find myself in agreement, for once," Julia chirped with fake cheer. "Surely there is some mistake here?"

    "Nah," their instructor denied. "These seem perfectly fine to me. You're from Bareahard after all, so putting you in Group A fits pretty well."

    Julia frowned, but could not dispute that.

    "Then put me in Group B!" Masha demanded. "I don't really want to go to either of these places, but I'm not setting foot in a place that spawned her! Let alone a place crawling with inbred noble freaks!"

    'She sounds almost…hysterical. Does she have a reason to be so afraid?'

    "Well that's kind of rude," Elisha remarked, displaying some social awareness for once. "Most noble families make sure not to marry people that are too closely related, so they are only partly inbred in most cases." Or maybe not.

    Instructor Valestein sighed. "That point aside, this is actually the precise reason why I put you in that group."

    "What?!" Masha snapped. "You are aware that that place is swarming with my father's political enemies, right?! What do you think they are going to do if I show my face there?!"

    "Surely they would not be so brazen as to snatch you right off the street?" Lawrence pointed out. "Acting like that would only work against the goals of the Noble Alliance."

    "How am I supposed to trust the goodwill of people who have no compunction extorting insane amounts of money from the people they are supposed to protect?!"

    "She does have a point there," Julia concurred, to the shock of most of the group. Masha's eyes bugged comically out of her face as she gawked in disbelief.

    "There are plenty of nobles who are quite touchy, especially in Bareahard," the blonde noble explained. "And with her temperament and political affiliation, there are going to be those all too eager to arrange something either out of spite, political aims, or both."

    There was a moment of surprised silence, and Irene smiled slightly. 'See, Julia is a lot nicer than she might come across at first.'

    "Well, look at that," Instructor Valestein remarked, sounding genuinely impressed. "Looks like the two of you can work together after all, so that just proves me right!"

    "What?!" Masha cried. "Did you not hear anything we just–"

    "Right, I'm not really the 'order are orders' kind of gal, even if this is a military academy," their instructor cut her off. "But it is my job as an instructor to look out for what I deem your best interests, and that's what I am trying to do here."

    She crossed her arms and closed her eyes, smiling dangerously. "If you have any objections…then how about you try getting me to listen by force?"

    Class VII looked among each other uncertainly. Lawrence seemed to be considering challenging their instructor just for training, while Julia and Masha looked to be seriously considering her offer.

    "Of course, that would be the only language you understand," Emmet snorted, stepping forwards and pointing his staff at their instructor challengingly. "I had enough of these two bickering last month, so I will make you back up those words."

    "Huh, should have expected that, honestly," Instructor Valestein muttered. "Male pride is ever so easy to rile up."

    "You can speak of male pride when you no longer feel insecure about your inability to find a mate," Emmet shot back.

    "Alright, that's it!" their instructor cried. "Looks like you're in need of a lesson!" She hooked her foot under the pack by her, flipping it upwards and pulling an unusual looking sword out of it while drawing a pistol from under her jacket with her other hand.

    "Huh, that makes sense," Emmet hummed, "I thought that surname sounded familiar."

    "I don't care if she's an Imperial bastard!" Masha snapped, readying her shotgun. "I want these groups changed, dammit!"

    "She is under no obligation to hold to her word, but might as well try," Julia sighed, settling into a fencing stance.

    What followed was a clear demonstration of just why Instructor Valestein was their combat instructor, and the speed with which she demolished Masha and Julia was suggestive of why she could get away with being as lackadaisical as she was.

    Masha never had a chance to fire her gun before their instructor slammed the pommel of her sword into her gut, knocking her out of the fight immediately.

    Julia's lunge was parried effortlessly and a paralyzing blast of wind energy from the orbal pistol took her out of the fight as well.

    Despite being clearly outmatched, Emmet did not give up easily. After Instructor Valestein proved too fast for him to catch her with his arts, he resorted back to striking out with his staff, and even then he failed to land a hit.

    Their instructor struck him a few times with her sword and pistol, clearly holding back, but Emmet refused to go down, an angry scowl on his face.

    "Alright, I respect your moxie," Instructor Valestein called. "But this is getting old, and I don't really want to hurt you too badly."

    "I've had worse," Emmet growled, spitting blood, settling back into a ready position.

    "Well, you asked for it then!" Their instructor flashed forward, a sudden strike with her sword knocking the staff out his hands and a vicious pistol whip to his neck sending him to the ground.

    'Former A-Ranked bracer indeed…'

    "Decision's final," Fion quipped.

    "Well you look at that!" Instructor Valestein cheered. "Chalk one up for the–" she leapt to the side as lightning lanced up from Emmet's prone form, singing through the air where she had just been.

    "You really don't know when to quit, do you?" she sighed as the purple haired youth clambered to his feet looking…less battered than he had a moment ago?

    "When I am dead," Emmet shot back. "I thought you, of all people, knew that."

    'That…what's driving him to act like this?'

    "Look, when I said I respect your drive, I meant it," Instructor Valestein offered. "But is a group placement really something worth staking your life on?"

    Emmet frowned, taking a deep breath. "No, it isn't. I apologize, instructor, I was out of line."

    "Nah, I offered, and you surprised me, so I'm not going to hold it against you," their instructor replied, giving him a considering look. "Still, take from it someone who's walked down a similar path before. Reaching the end isn't going to be as satisfying as you think it is."

    "Forgive me if I am skeptical of taking your word for it," Emmet replied, now somehow looking about as fresh as he had been before getting pummeled into the ground.

    'How did he recover so fast? He didn't cast a healing art, did he?'

    "Well, I tried," Instructor Valestein shrugged. "Figures that words don't do much for that. Still…" she trailed off, before shaking her head. "Anyways, the assignments stand, and you guys will be heading out to your destinations as planned. Good luck!"

    Irene frowned. With Julia and Masha at each other's throats, Emmet acting strange, and Fion being as apathetic about the whole thing as he was, she was going to need all the luck she could get.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • 10. Lifeblood of Nobility
  • Threadmarks
    • Lifeblood of Nobility​

    Irene awoke early the next morning full of trepidation, partly regretting the relief she had felt the previous month about the conflict being in the other group. She had hoped it would smooth over, but it had only seemed to get worse, and now it was her problem too.

    She collected her luggage for the trip, remembering to add in her make up and hair care kit, and padded quietly downstairs, moving carefully since it seemed like several of her classmates were still in their rooms, though they were probably awake in this instance.

    Downstairs, she found Lawrence and Gaia chatting over some tea, while Fion napped on the couch next to them.

    "Good morning, Lady Irene," her tall classmate greeted brightly, keeping his voice down out of courtesy. "Gaia brewed some tea, and it is quite refreshing. Would you like some?"

    "Oh, that's kind of you," Irene replied, giving the Nord girl a grateful smile. "If you don't mind?"

    "Of course not," Gaia replied, pouring another cup. "I know a few of our class are not used to waking up early, so I made some tea that might help." Now that Irene looked, there were enough cups for their whole class.

    "That's very thoughtful of you, Gaia," Irene complimented, taking a seat next to her and sipping at the tea–oh my, it was very good.

    "Pretty good, right?" Lawrence chuckled.

    "It is!" Irene gasped, turning to give the Nord an appreciative look, "where did you learn to make this?"

    "You are both such flatterers," Gaia chuffed, though she looked pleased enough. "I learned from my mother. This is what we usually drink back home."

    "Well, please give her my compliments when you see her again," Irene offered, taking another sip of the delicious tea.

    "I'll be sure to do that," the Nord girl laughed.

    The three of them chatted companionably for a few more minutes, before Irene got up and ran through some light calisthenics. Lawrence went outside to train a bit, while Gaia went into the kitchen to check on the other pot of tea.

    Emmet came downstairs not too long after, giving Irene a single nod of greeting, before walking out the door, politely declining Gaia's offer of tea.

    A few minutes later, Julia came down the stairs, her hair done up neatly in an elegant chignon, and sporting an unusual amount of cosmetics for her. Frankly, she was pretty enough that she didn't need much (something a part of Irene envied just a little bit), but it seemed that she was prepared to play the part of Lady Albarea on this trip.

    The blonde did not look to be in a good mood, but she still gave Irene and Gaia a light smile, accepting the offer of tea gracefully and also complimenting the Nord girl in a perfectly lady-like fashion.

    Irene frowned. "Julia…we still have a few hour long train ride, you don't have to be fully proper quite yet."

    "That is true enough, Irene," her friend sighed, "but I am going to need to keep my composure when dealing with Regnitz as well as whatever nonsense my public appearance throughout Bareahard might stir up, so I cannot be too relaxed even now."

    "Don't worry," Irene murmured, taking her friend's hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "At the very least I'll be there to support you."

    "Much appreciated," Julia huffed. "And while Emmet is a bit abrasive, I believe he can be trusted in a fight. Fion as well."

    "What about me?" the napping boy asked, suddenly sitting up.

    Julia blinked. "How do you manage to go from sleeping to alert all of a sudden?"
    Fion shrugged. "Practice. Is it time to go?"

    "Not quite yet," Irene replied, "though I have a few things I need to pick up from George and the Engineering Club."

    "Then what are we waiting for?" Julia asked rhetorically, standing smoothly and giving Gaia a grateful nod. "Thank you for the tea."

    "It was no trouble," the Nord replied, "I'm happy to see it so well received."

    The two nobles left the dorm, heading up to the academy campus and the Engineering Building, installing some of the quartz they had requested in preparation for the field study. After that, they stopped by the student union, where they purchased some supplies they hopefully would not need. Irene also checked in with Towa as well, though the Student Council President assured her that she would be fine, especially with Lotte there to help.

    Finally, they returned to the station, where they found most of their group waiting for the train. Masha and Ellia were discussing something in hushed tones near the ticket gate, while Fion was now napping in one of the chairs in the waiting area.

    Gaia and Lawrence were also there, standing in front of a map of Erebonian's eastern rail network.

    Their green haired classmate glanced at them when they arrived, before very deliberately turning away. Ellia waved awkwardly at the two of them, before continuing whatever conversation she was having with Masha.

    Julia ignored them, striding over to the counter to collect the tickets the school had purchased for them, then handing Irene her ticket before making her way over to Gaia and Lawrence.

    "Good morning, Lawrence," she called. "Regaling our foreign classmate with stories of home, are we?"

    "Good morning, Lady Julia," the tall man returned, turning around to face her. "And of a sort, Gaia was asking me in regard to what I know of Saint Arkh."

    "Indeed," the Nord woman concurred. "It is one thing to read about a place, it is another to hear of it from a person who has been there personally, and so far, Lawrence is the only one of our class that I have spoken with who has been there."

    "It has been a few years since I was last there," Lawrence admitted, "though I imagine the cathedral would likely not have changed, and haven't you visited Saint Arkh recently, Lady Julia?"

    "I have," the blonde replied, her face placid and polite, but Irene saw her friend's hands tense behind her back. "Though it was for a…less than pleasant meeting with some less than pleasant people, so I believe any commentary I might add would be colored by that fact."

    "You are wise to consider that," Gaia mused, "though I would welcome any commentary, and then I will compare my own observations to what I have heard."

    "Reasonable enough," Julia acknowledged, before describing her own experiences in the oldest city in the Empire.

    As they talked, Elisha and Emmet made their way into the station with their luggage, and soon, their group split up, heading towards the designated platforms for their trains.

    Well, the Saint Arkh group went as one, while in the other group, Masha and Emmet made their own way, while Irene followed a half step after Julia and Fion trailed a bit behind them.

    However, the train had just come from Heimdallr, so was quite full of people, which meant that despite the hostility between their group members, they all ended up sitting in the same row.

    Irene tried not to fidget as she sat between Julia and Masha and across from Emmet, the three in question doing their level best not to acknowledge each other's existence. For once, Fion wasn't napping, and actually looked a little sympathetic to her.

    "Soo…" the silver haired boy drawled. "Bareahard. Never been. Anyone up for giving me a sitrep."
    "Y-yes! I think that would be wise," Irene replied, smiling thankfully at him, before turning to her blonde friend. "Julia, as Bareahard is your home, would you mind giving us a description of what it is like?"

    "I would not mind at all," Julia answered with false cheer, causing Masha to mutter something angrily, "though it seems that a certain someone would like to add some color commentary about a topic they know very little about."

    "Excuse me?!" Masha snorted. "I scored higher than you on the entrance exam!"

    Julia scoffed. "Oh, of course, but we all know that there was no section for social etiquette–and I don't mean the complex and most certainly proper mannerism amongst the high born. No, if part of the test involved talking with normal people, you would clearly have failed that section."

    'Oh dear…'

    "Talk with normal people?!" the green haired girl barked, loud enough for Irene to wince. "What would some fine, delicate noble lady know about talking with normal people? Most people do not have to demand people grovel at every opportunity when you deign to grace them with your presence!"

    "I scored higher than both of you," Emmet grunted. "So shut up."

    That did interrupt the two girls from their argument, but also drew their combined ire to their purple haired classmate, who, to his credit, did not back down. Unfortunately, now both Julia and Masha looked like they were about to explode.

    "I see how you all did so poorly last month," Irene sniffed, leveling her best disappointed glare at the rest of the group and somehow managing not to shrink back at the four sets of eyes suddenly turning to her.

    "Your perception is truly something extraordinary," Emmet snarked, but Irene was undeterred.

    "Last month, your group scored a D," she pressed, "which would be a failing score if it were a written exam."

    "That score was ridiculous," Emmet spat, "we completed all the objectives."

    "But not as a group," Irene rebutted, "and it seems you all did not learn anything at all, let alone the purpose of these field studies."

    "Oh? Do go on," Julia prompted, looking at her curiously.

    "It isn't just to help out with some local bracer-like jobs, or to get to know some places in the Empire," Irene continued, her voice taking on a more enthusiastic tone as she went. "It is also so we can see how the issues throughout society are affecting people down to the town and even individual level."

    Julia and Masha seemed unconvinced, while Fion just looked confused and Emmet did not seem to care. That wouldn't do.

    "Why do you think this class was formed at all?" Irene inquired. "It is not just for testing our new orbments, it is also a test if people from different backgrounds and places throughout the empire can see past those differences and work together!"

    "Well it clearly isn't working," Masha interjected.

    "Did you even try?!" Irene snapped, glaring at the green haired girl next to her, who couldn't help but lean away slightly at the sudden vehemence.

    "No…I can't say I did," Julia admitted. "Millstein actually did."

    "For all of five minutes," Emmet hedged. "You were lucky Group A last month wasn't nearly as argumentative."

    "That may be true," Irene acknowledged, "but now Lawrence, Elisha and Ellia all can work together pretty well, and Gaia is not likely to make things worse, which means they will likely do about as well as last month, if not better!"

    Emmet and Masha frowned at the thought. It seemed she had judged their competitive nature correctly.

    "I think all of us would much prefer scoring well on this field study, am I right?" Irene asked, to a unanimous round of nods, though Fion seemed to be just going along with the rest of them than actually invested. "So please, can we at least agree to make an effort to work together? I do not mean we need to all be friends after this, just that we avoid the incessant arguing."

    She turned her gaze to Masha specifically. "Doubly so for you." The green haired girl frowned, but Irene continued before she could respond. "You were concerned about what the political enemies of your father might try. This may be a warranted concern, so do not give them an excuse!"

    Masha paled, looking like she wanted to retort, but the thought seemed to have knocked her out of her outrage.

    "Fine," she spat, "I'll be willing to call a truce, for now, assuming the good, noble lady is willing to swallow her pride."

    "I can swallow many things," Julia snarked with a roll of her eyes, "and besides, it's no fun if you aren't reacting."

    "Why, you–!"

    "Ahem!"

    Masha stopped herself as Irene gave her a chiding look while elbowing Julia in the sensitive part of her ribs at the same time.

    "You must have a lot of experience herding cats," Emmet observed, looking at Irene curiously.

    "Herding cats?" she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

    "Never mind."

    "Sitrep time?" Fion asked, seeing the rest of the group fall silent. "What can we expect?"

    "Well," Julia began, rubbing her side slightly. "Bareahard is the capital of the Kreuzen province, and thus is generally considered the most important city in this part of the country."

    "It is only about a third the size of Heimdallr, population wise," Masha chimed in, somewhat smugly.

    "Yes, it has a population around three hundred thousand, more or less," Julia specified. "Though it is not as densely populated as Heimdallr, so is closer to half the size physically, a lot of that is due to the number of noble residences, which are typically larger than commoner homes, even among lower ranking nobles."

    "So…lot of bigwigs?" Fion asked.

    "Lots of bigwigs indeed," Julia chuckled. "Another reason the population density is lower than Heimdallr is that many nobles throughout Kreuzen own housing in Bareahard, but do not live there year round, instead staying in those residences when they have business in the provincial capital. This is typically more common amongst nobles whose territories are more distant from Barehard, but is also true of nobles who tend to have more lengthy or frequent business with the Duke, such as those who have gemstone or sepith mines in their territories."

    "Oh yes! Barehard is well known for having some of the finest jewelcraft in the Empire!" Irene exclaimed, remembering some of Julia's own finely wrought pieces.

    "Indeed," her friend nodded. "It is also well known for the mink fur collected from the abundance of said animals in the surrounding rivers and hills."

    "There is a whole street dedicated to specialty craftsmen, isn't there?" Emmet prompted.

    "Correct, the aptly named Artisan's Street in the south of the city."

    "Only the obscenely wealthy go there," Masha grunted.

    "Or those too free with loans," Fion pointed out.

    "Even some nobles find those wares pricey," Irene murmured.

    "Speaking of which, the city is full of nobles, as we've already established," Julia segued, "and even the commoners there tend to be very class conscious, so for your own sake, be careful what you say."

    "I understood you the first time," Masha grumbled.

    "Let me reiterate," the blonde noble insisted, "you should be cautious of your usual outburst even to other commoners in Bareahard. You might well find that they dislike the Reformists as much as the nobles here."

    "What?" Mashe blurted out, flabbergasted. "How does that make any sense?!"

    "Their job depends on the nobles, obviously," Emmet snorted. "And they mostly have more money to work with than the average menial laborer in Heimdallr, which is what they would likely be if the class system was overthrown as you desire."

    "There is also the fact that many noble families have been served by the same commoner family for generations," Irene added, giving a less cynical explanation. "In fact, some butlers or maids are viewed as similar to members of the family, so they naturally would not be that happy with those who dislike the family they serve."

    "What, like dogs and their owners?!" Masha growled, though for once it seemed to come from genuine confusion.

    Julia frowned, but Irene could see her sides vibrating in suppressed laughter.

    "Or like your father and the Chancellor," Emmet pointed out.

    "That is nothing like what she described!"

    "Yes, it's only based on political aims, with no further loyalty than that," the purple haired man accused.

    "You don't know anything about my father!" Masha cried, taking offense.

    "Emmet, please stop antagonizing her," Irene requested politely.

    "Just giving her some practice," he waved off with a shrug.

    Masha squared herself up indignantly, before letting out a slow breath. "This is going to be a long field study," she muttered under her breath. Irene couldn't help but agree.
    The rest of the train ride was less contentious, if not friendly. Fion went back to napping, Masha took a book out of her bag and began studying and Emmet stared out the window as if deep in thought. Irene and Julia touched up their makeup and checked their hair, chatting softly in the meantime, discussing the various people of note in Bareahard, and what the best way of interacting with them was.

    Given the amount of individuals Julia considered notable, which included not just nobles, but also some important servants, skilled craftsmen, and clergy members, this discussion took the better part of the train ride, and Irene could not help but feel awed and mildly envious of her friend's social abilities.

    "It seems like you might well know everyone in Barehard, hehe," Irene giggled.

    "Not at all," Julia scoffed. "Three hundred thousand is too many people for any one person to keep track of. You're the one who knows everyone in your hometown."

    "Well, I wouldn't say that," Irene demurred, "and Ymir doesn't even have a thousand people if you include tourists!"

    "Looks like we're getting close," Emmet observed suddenly, still looking out the window.

    "Oh! I can see the steeple to the Cathedral!" Irene exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight.

    "Oh joy," Masha grumbled, putting her book back into her bag as the train conductor announced their imminent arrival in Bareahard.

    The chime woke Fion up, and he glanced out the window as well. "Not that crowded looking for a big city."

    "Yes, Aidios forbid another building obstruct the view of some important person," Julia chuckled. "Still, as odd as some of the city planning decisions might be, it does create a less oppressive atmosphere than the tightly packed parts of Heimdallr."

    "We'll see about that," Masha muttered, though from the look on her face, she saw Julia's point, albeit begrudgingly.

    The train pulled into the station, and the group disembarked onto the platform–

    "Lady Julia! Welcome back to Bareahard!"

    They stopped short as a chorus of enthusiastic shouts suddenly exploded around them, various station attendants bowing in greeting.

    Irene glanced at her friend, who looked taken aback for a moment, before she smiled and waved.

    "Hello everyone!" Julia called, stepping forward and addressing the assembled greeting party. "Thank you all for the warm welcome! But please, I am here as part of my schooling, so do not inconvenience yourselves any further."

    If anything, that made them more enthusiastic, and Irene had to stifle a laugh. 'It seems like people here have a lot of respect for the Albareas, though I wonder how much of this is for her in particular.'

    "But Lady Albarea, we cannot just neglect to welcome you back, that would be improper!" The station master objected.

    "At the very least, please let us handle your luggage, and your companions' as well, of course!"

    "Do they really have to make such a big deal out of this?" Masha muttered.

    "How did they know she would be here?" Fion wondered.

    As Julia attempted, and mostly failed to talk the station attendants down, Irene noticed someone approaching.

    "This all won't be necessary," the blond man headed their way called, his voice calm and regal, and now that Irene looked closer, he shared a distinct resemblance to Julia.

    "B-brother?!" Julia blurted out, surprise evident on her face. "I thought you would be busy."

    "Lord Rufus!" cried the station attendants, quickly getting out of his way and bowing deeply.

    "And miss greeting my sweet younger sister?" Rufus Albarea scoffed. "Perish the thought."

    He and his butler (Arnauld, if Irene remembered correctly) came to a stop in front of their group, looking them over with a discerning eye.

    'So this was the famous Rufus Albarea. He certainly seems to live up to the descriptions.'

    "It is good to see you, brother," Julia greeted, more properly this time.

    "Come now!" Rufus laughed, stepping forwards and pulling his sister into a hug. "No need to stand on formality."

    "B-brother! We're in public!" Julia squawked indignantly, turning red in embarrassment, something Irene had rarely seen before.

    "Are you that ashamed to be associated with me?" Rufus inquired with exaggerated false hurt. "My poor heart!"

    "Brother!"

    Irene giggled at the scene, and she noticed several of the station attendants doing their best to hide their smiles.

    "Excuse me, Lord Rufus," she interjected. "But we are obstructing the path for other travelers."

    "The train can be delayed if you desire, Lord Rufus," the station master offered quickly.

    "There is no need for that," Lord Rufus waved him off, letting go of his mortified sister. "I do apologize for any inconvenience we might have caused."

    "No trouble at all," the station master declared with a deep bow. "We will always have time for House Albarea. Are you in need of assistance?"

    "That will not be necessary," Lord Rufus replied. "I and Arnauld will be taking these students to their destination."

    "Our destination?" Julia asked. "Are you the one who will be organizing our field study tasks?"

    "Indeed I am, sweet sister," Rufus confirmed. "But come, Lady Schwarzer is correct, let's not inconvenience the good station workers anymore."

    With that, he turned and began to leave, and the group followed after him. Julia made sure to wave a farewell to the station attendants, who bowed back enthusiastically.

    "Is a few kind words enough to make them forget all the predations of the noble class?" Masha muttered under her breath.

    "Probably," Emmet snorted. "You'd know better, given how close your family is to the Chancellor."

    "There is no comparison!" she hissed back.

    "Tell that to Jurai," Emmet retorted. "Oh right, money's more important than loyalty."

    "Ahem!" Irene coughed, cutting Masha off before she could explode.

    Neither looked happy, but at least they did stop.

    Lord Rufus led them outside the station, where his orbal car was waiting for them. Butler Arnauld helped them load their luggage into the trunk, after which they piled into the spacious passenger compartment.

    "So, brother," Julia began once they were all situated. "How come you did not inform me that you would be handling our tasks?"

    "Well, firstly, I am officially doing so on behalf of our father," Lord Rufus began, "and secondly, I could hardly spoil the surprise. It's been nearly three months, after all."

    "I suppose I should not have expected Baron Caroline to bother with something of the sort," Julia sniffed. "And as appropriate as it would be, Father would certainly not let Mayor Schneider represent the city."

    "It's as you say, sister," Lord Rufus replied, "and it thus fell naturally to me. After all, I am a member of Thors' board of directors."

    'I wonder how he has time for that,' Irene marveled in her head.

    "So that's why you were so pleased by my decision to attend Thors," Julia accused. "I should have known you would want to keep an eye on me."

    "But of course! We are family after all, and you are a particularly delicate flower who I cannot let fall into the wrong hands." He narrowed his eyes at Emmet and Fion. "Especially not into the hands of impetuous young boys."

    Neither young man visibly reacted, Emmet returning the gaze evenly while Fion acted as if the words didn't register.

    "Brother!" Julia hissed, face turning red with embarrassment. "There's no need to worry about that. I have Irene and Lawrence in my class for Aidios' sake!"

    "Indeed, I helped make sure of that," Lord Rufus revealed. "And, dear sister, I'm afraid our father still refuses to approach Viscount Arseid about that matter."

    "B-brother!" Julia stammered, looking more flustered than Irene had ever seen her. "You know full well betrothing us was always your idea!"

    Something in Irene twinged at the thought, but she wasn't sure what or why.

    "Do you two not get along well?" Lord Rufus inquired evenly. "I know young Lawrence quite well, and he is as faithful and loyal as his father. It would also be politically wise, as the Arseids are one of our most important and influential vassals, so mending the rift caused by our father would be in the best interests of the Kreuzen province."

    Julia frowned, likely because her brother was correct.

    "If I may interject, Lord Rufus?" Irene spoke up, continuing when he nodded at her. "At the end of the day, much of that decision rests with Julia. Lawrence said the same when the topic was brought up."

    "Yet another reason for the match!" Lord Rufus chuckled. "But clearly I've embarrassed you, little sister, so I'll refrain from commenting further, thanks to your friend's intervention."

    He turned to Irene, his gaze searching for something, though exactly what she wasn't sure. Whatever it was, he seemed to have found it, and he smiled wider.

    "Please forgive me for not properly greeting you earlier, Lady Schwarzer," he apologized. "My joy at seeing my sister again got the better of me."

    "I-it was no issue, Lord Rufus!" Irene replied quickly. "I understand the feeling quite well." She had been tempted to visit Elise herself, but her little sister needed space to grow, so it wouldn't do to hover too close.

    "I'm sure you do," Lord Rufus returned. "I am glad my sister has had a good friend to watch over her, she certainly needs it."

    Julia sighed in exasperation, pointedly looking out the window. Irene smiled and nodded. "Julia has been a good friend to me, so of course I will assist her in return."

    "I should not have expected less from someone raised by Baron Teo Schwarzer," Lord Rufus chuckled. "Your father taught me quite a lot in the times we have met."

    "Oh! My father has mentioned you a few times," Irene exclaimed. "If I recall, you two met at a falconry event, correct?"

    "So he has spoken of me? I'm flattered," Rufus mused.

    "I am flattered that you speak well of my father," Irene demurred, looking down.

    "Your conduct speaks well of your upbringing," Lord Rufus declared, "no matter what less discerning people may say about your father."

    Irene flushed, embarrassment flooding through her in a wave. 'Ah! So that's why Julia got embarrassed so easily.'

    "Are we on a family visit or a school assignment?" Masha grumbled quietly, but loud enough for Lord Rufus to hear.

    "Ah, forgive me," Lord Rufus apologized. "I was swept away by family matters. It is good to meet Carl's daughter at long last."

    "You k-know my father?" Masha sputtered in shock.

    "Of course!" Lord Rufus replied. "I encounter the good governor on occasion while I am conducting business in the capital. Our political stances may be different, but he has offered me helpful advice many times."

    He smiled, and Irene noted with some interest that Masha seemed to be increasingly flustered. "How curious," he mused, "that the daughters of two of my mentors would be in the same class as my sweet sister."

    "I-it…a-aren't you on Thors' Board of D-directors?" Masha asked, trying to sound accusing but not quite succeeding. "Wouldn't you have had a hand in the class placements?"

    "Less than you may think," Lord Rufus replied. "Oh, I have influence over the admittance standards and curriculum, but the division of students into classes has followed a simple breakdown for centuries that have little reason to be changed." He gestured to the group. "Of course, your class is a new one, but also has an equally straightforward criterion: that being ARCUS compatibility."

    "Is that really it?" Emmet asked, "it seems a bit…convenient, given the number of people from influential families in our class."

    "It is a bit curious, isn't it?" Rufus conceded. "I was somewhat surprised to see the results myself. Though your class includes a Nord from a notable, but mostly normal family, which goes against the theory that it was purely political selection, not to mention yourself."

    "Point." Emmet noted. "I am, after all, from a family not worth mentioning and a place of little consequence."

    "Will you stop being so obtuse about your background?!" Masha grunted, glaring at the purple haired youth.

    "No," he replied flatly.

    Lord Rufus chuckled. "It is quite a colorful group you've found yourself a part of, dear Julia." He turned to Masha. "I know my sister can be willful, but please, do try and get along with her, if you can."

    "I…uh…w-will make an e-effort to do so!" Masha declared, her face red as a tomato.

    "Very good." Then the elder Albararea turned to the two males in the group, his face suddenly serious. "Now, about you two young men with suspiciously vague backgrounds. Do be aware that any slight done towards my sister will be considered a slight against House Albarea and the Kreuzen province as a whole."

    "Noted," Emmet replied, returning the look defiantly. 'Is he…considering that a challenge?!'

    "Wilco," Fion grunted, shifting a bit nervously in his seat.

    "Rufus, that is quite enough of this!" Julia groused.

    "Ah, so that is what I need to do for you to call me by my name!" Lord Rufus laughed.

    "Brother!"

    "Haha, I suppose that is enough for one day," the elder Albarea chuckled. "And as much as I would like to continue this conversation, I believe we are almost at your lodgings for this weekend."

    "Surely you do not mean…?"

    "Why, naturally, you will all be staying at the Albarea family manor!" Lord Rufus declared.

    'Huh?!'

    "B-but!" Julia stammered, looking unsure.

    "I jest, I jest," her brother waved placatingly. "Though you are welcome to visit if you have the time."

    "So there are arrangements for us to stay at a hotel?" Julia asked, giving her brother a dirty look. "I presumed Father would not deign to host students at our place."

    "Indeed," Lord Rufus confirmed. "He told me to do with you as I wished, and thus I have arranged for lodgings at the Hotel Esmerelda, which we are just about arriving at."

    Irene's eyes widened. From what Julia and Theresia mentioned, that was an incredibly expensive hotel. The amount of wealth her friend's family could afford to throw around was truly astonishing.

    Emmet and Fion didn't seem to understand the significance, but Masha looked at the hotel with a complicated expression on her face.

    Once they had unloaded their luggage and porters from the hotel helped carry them inside, Lord Rufus handed them their task assignments for the day and departed, heading to Heimdallr on business.

    "Lord Rufus certainly lives up to what people say of him," Irene remarked as the orbal car drove off.

    "He's smooth," Fion muttered.

    "I suppose he's not that bad for a noble," Masha scoffed, but her distracted expression made the lie obvious.

    "Oh for crying out loud don't fawn over my brother Regnitz," Julia groaned. "I've had to deal with enough of that as is, let alone you too."

    "I was not fawning over him!" Masha objected. "Sure, he's pretty good looking, but there's no way I'd be charmed by a noble!"

    "But you think he's pretty," Fion pointed.

    "That's just an objective fact!"

    "I can see why some call him the ace of the Noble Alliance," Irene remarked.

    "And he's quite good at playing the big brother role to a certain someone," Masha snickered. "Oh, brother!"

    "As if you have room to talk," Julia sniffed. "You were making a good impression of some of the noble ladies my brother has to deal with all too often."

    "I'm nothing like them!" Masha cried indignantly, recoiling at the thought.

    "Indeed, you're not half as pret–" Julia cut herself off as Irene stepped on her foot. "Pretentious."

    "That's saying something," Fion muttered.

    "I don't like him," Emmet grunted suddenly, drawing everyone's attention.

    "What?" Julia blurted, looking at him in incomprehension.

    "He is quite good at manipulating people," He observed. "And something about him sets my teeth on edge."

    "Huh, I think you might be the first person to react to my brother like that," Julia muttered, not sure how to react.

    "You're just jealous," Masha sneered.

    "Of what?" Emmet scoffed. "And here I thought you disliked charming nobles, though I suppose I shouldn't have expected good judgment from you."

    "Why you–!"

    "Enough!" Julia barked, turning on her heel and stalking into the hotel. "Let's get on with it."

    A complicated, and slightly amusing expression crossed Masha's face as she realized she had just defended one the of the nobles she had expressed such strong dislike for previously, but Irene was more interested in Emmet's suspicious expression.

    What made him so certain that Lord Rufus was being dishonest? Julia lived with him for a long time, was it possible for someone to have kept up a lie for so long? Or was it because of how Julia's brother had treated Emmet and Fion differently than the others? To Irene, it did not seem so strange that a doting older brother would be leery of young men around his younger sister, but perhaps Emmet did not see it that way.

    The rest of the group followed Julia into the hotel, and after they exchanged pleasantries with the staff, including waving off their attempts at providing individual rooms for each of them instead of the two that had been requested, they were shown their rooms, which were spacious and luxurious, to the point that Irene felt about as out of place as Masha did.

    After getting their luggage situated, the group reconvened just outside their rooms to look over their tasks for the day.

    "Let's see here…" Masha murmured as they looked the papers over. "A monster extermination, a request from a jeweler, and collecting bath salts? What does that even mean?"

    "There is a trending thought among various people of a particular type that bathing in mineral rich water is good for your health," Julia explained. "I believe it had some derivation from hot springs."

    "Hot springs are quite good for your health," Irene added, "though I don't know if this is the kind of salt that would be useful for something similar. House Voltaire is a noble family, right? So why can't they simply purchase some?"

    "I do not know," Julia replied. "Perhaps they want a particular kind of salt that cannot be found in the market?"

    "And why can't the Provincial Army deal with this monster?" Masha wondered. "It says to report to Aurochs Fortress, so did the request come from them?"

    "It appears so," Julia agreed, frowning slightly. "And you are right, it is somewhat strange for them to outsource dealing with a monster on such an important route for them."

    "Would…there be any reason for the Provincial Army to step back from their duties?" Irene asked, remembering the events of her field study in Celdic. "Perhaps related to the raised taxes?"

    "If you mean something like what happened in Celdic, I find that unlikely," Julia replied. "The Aurochs Canyon path does not have that much civilian traffic, and it would be eminently foolish for them to try a similar scheme there."

    "Maybe monster's just slippery," Fion suggested. "Or could be in a place hard to get to with vehicles."

    "I might have a way of finding out more," Julia hummed, "though we should save that task for last, or at least find out more about the others first."

    "Yes, that seems wise," Irene agreed. "Those tasks should be less dangerous, based on their description."

    "I see the sense in that, but just how, exactly, do you plan to learn more about the monster?" Masha wondered, giving Julia a skeptical look.

    "I was thinking of asking the soldiers at the guardhouse," the blonde noble explained. "They usually have quite a lot to say when I visit."

    "I'm sure they do," Emmet snorted. "To Artisan's Street then."

    "Actually…would you mind if we stopped by the Sorciere Restaurant?" Julia requested. "I am on good terms with the owner, and it would be rude not to say hello while being in the vicinity."

    "Does that mean we get free food?" Fion asked.

    "...Possibly," Julia replied.

    "Then sounds good to me," the silver haired youth decided with a shrug.

    "Is it a high end restaurant?" Emmet asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't imagine one like that would let us in with no questions asked aside from you."

    Julia waved her hand in a so-so gesture. "Sorciere certainly does have a significant noble clientele, myself included, but old Hammond insists on having his restaurant being open to polite commoners as well."

    "The task descriptions also mentioned that Lord Voltaire will be near the Sorciere Restaurant," Irene pointed out, "so we will have to head in that direction in any case."

    "I've already seen and been in several hoighty-toighty places today," Masha grumbled. "What's one more?"

    They found the noble responsible for the salt task in the outside dining area of the restaurant, and after a mildly amusing scene where the noble and his friend began condescending to the group, before tripping over themselves to apologize to Julia, who simply smiled and bade them a good day, pointedly ignoring their slight to show that it was not forgiven.

    Of course, what Julia considered a slight was their condescension towards the group as a whole, not specifically to herself, but she let Lord Voltaire reach the wrong conclusion and left them in an anxious state.

    This made determining what the task was slightly difficult, as they kept trying to apologize between every other word, but eventually they were able to get across that they were looking for some salt that could be harvested in parts of Aurochs Canyon.

    After they had enough information, Julia turned and left without another word, something that was incredibly rude, but the two nobles had no grounds to complain.

    Irene bowed apologetically to Lord Voltaire, but the rest of the group followed Julia and left, and since they never addressed the commoners in the group, they also didn't have any real grounds to be upset.

    Next, the group followed Julia into the restaurant proper. As soon as the waiter saw her, his eyes widened and he smiled. "Lady Julia!" He exclaimed, dropping into a deep, proper bow, "it is wonderful to see you again! Would you like a table for you and your…classmates?"

    "Hello Bryce," Julia greeted, giving him a friendly nod. "And while I appreciate it, we have assignments to complete, but I could not simply not stop by, could I?"

    "I see," Bryce hummed, smiling politely, yet genuinely. "I am flattered you have taken time out of your busy schedule to visit us."

    "Don't read into it too much, Bryce," Julia laughed. "My brother arranged for me and my classmates to stay in the Hotel Esmeralda, so it was no trouble stopping by."

    "I'm sure Hammond and Calmin will be happy to see you, Lady Julia," the waiter remarked. "And if you and your classmates would like to stop here for lunch, we would be more than happy to accommodate you."

    "Food smells good," Fion noted, glancing around the restaurant curiously.

    "Hah! I'll relay your compliments to the chef," Bryce declared before glancing over at an occupied table. "However, it appears I am needed elsewhere. If you'll excuse me?"

    Julia nodded. "Oh of course! Don't let me get in your way."

    As the waiter went over to a customer, Julia headed towards the kitchen area, where a younger chef waved to her a bit too casually than was proper, while the older chef, probably Hammond, bowed politely.

    "Why is she so chummy with these people?" Masha muttered under her breath.

    "And here I thought you wanted nobles to treat commoners with due respect," Emmet snorted.

    "Of course I do!" the green haired girl snapped. "But why are they all so happy to see her? She didn't ever do anything to help them–"

    "Probably paid them," Fion pointed out.

    "That's not the point! Why does she act like she's close to them?"

    "Have you considered that it could be as simple as that?" Irene pointed out softly, watching as Julia talked with her uncle. It was a bit sad to see the distance they were forced to put between them, but Hammond certainly looked happy to see her again.

    "That can't be it," Masha hissed. "What's she getting out of acting like this?"

    "Food?" Fion suggested.

    "It generally pays to be considerate of the people making your food," Emmet added, standing impatiently by the door. "If you piss them off, they have ways of making things unpleasant for you."

    "While true, that isn't why Julia is friendly with the people running this restaurant," Irene countered. "She did mention that it was one of her favorite places to eat."

    At this point, Julia noticed that they hadn't followed her, and waved them over. "Come on now, don't be shy. Hammond won't bite, and Calmin is mostly harmless."

    "What is that supposed to mean?!" the younger chef sputtered, drawing a laugh from Julia and a chuckle from her uncle.

    "This is Hammond, the owner of this little shop," Julia introduced, waving theatrically at her uncle. "He's one of the best chefs in town."

    "You flatter me, Lady Julia," Hammond chuffed, "though I do appreciate the vote of confidence." He looked over the group curiously, before his eyes settled on Irene.

    "Are you, perhaps, the Lady Schwarzer I have heard Lady Julia speak of?" he asked.

    "I am indeed," Irene replied, smiling politely. "It is a pleasure to meet you Hammond."

    Julia introduced the rest of them, and Hammond offered to prepare them a meal, which sounded quite tempting as it was getting close to noon, and the food in Sorciere looked quite appetizing.

    "We should sort out the details of the other tasks first," Emmet suggested. "It would be easier to plan out our options when we have all the details."

    "They will likely take us out of the city," Irene pointed out, "so we should eat before we actually head out to work on any of them, but I see the benefit in collecting the information first."

    "That seems reasonable enough," Julia agreed.

    Masha nodded her assent, a sour expression on her face as she was forced to agree with a noble, and while Fion was clearly hungry, he didn't seem to mind waiting a bit.

    Their trip to the jeweler's shop took longer than was probably strictly necessary, as various people greeted Julia on the street, and she at least exchanged greetings with all of them. Most of those they met were nobles of one kind or another, and Irene was a bit surprised that there were so many.

    "Is there some kind of noble event or something?" Masha grumbled.

    "There usually is some kind of activity," Julia replied, waving to return a child's enthusiastic greeting. "Though it seems that there are rumors my brother will be present at a gala this weekend, which, as you might expect, results in heightened interest among a certain section of nobles."

    "But…didn't Lord Rufus just leave?" Irene pointed out.

    "He did," her friend confirmed. "So it seems the rumors are false. And yet, there are quite a few more visiting nobles than I expected, usually most of the visits are around the turn of the year, though now is the time when many noblewomen feel the need to chase the latest fashions."

    Speaking of which, Irene noticed a noblewoman examining a clothing store. Hadn't she also been at the Celdic Grand Market?

    Irene didn't have time to think further on that, as they reached the jewelry shop shortly afterwards.

    Inside, they met with Turner the jeweler and his son Bruc, who had put in the request on behalf of a young man named Bengt. Bengt was planning on proposing to his girlfriend and had come to Bareahard to purchase a ring, but had found all of them to be outside his price range.

    Bruc, being sympathetic to his plight, suggested a semi-precious (and thus cheaper) stone formed by hardened tree sap called a Dryad's Tear, since it could be found near the city, and the rather ostentatiously nobleman who happened to be in the shop declared that he had seen something that could be the desired stone along the northern highway.

    After that, Julia led them into the noble district and to the Bareahard guardhouse, where she received an enthusiastic welcome from the soldiers present.

    Unfortunately, they did not have much information about the monster they were asked to exterminate, aside from the fact that it's usual haunt was well off the canyon road and that it had managed to elude a few patrols sent after it. As it had never attacked anything important, their commander had decided dealing with it was lower priority.

    Quite a few soldiers expressed concern about Julia being assigned this task, even if she was a student at a military academy, and some even offered to come along, but Julia waved them off, pointing out that the monster may have learned to avoid soldiers in particular. Nonetheless, the commander insisted that a few of his men at least point them in the correct direction, as well as waiting on standby in case it proved too much for them to handle.

    As it so happened, there were a few soldiers who were off duty, and a few volunteered to serve as back up when needed.

    With more details about their assigned tasks collected, the group headed back to the Sorciere Restaurant for lunch, where they found quite a lot of food waiting for them.

    "I did not know all of your preferences," Hammond explained as he and Calmin placed several platters of food on the group's table, "so we prepared a variety." A variety that included salad, steamed vegetables and potatoes, as well as a mix of meats and fluffy looking bread.

    "Of course, I made your favorite, Lady Julia," the chef announced, placing a large bowl of steaming chowder in front of the blonde.

    "Thank you, Hammond," Julia said, looking down at her meal wistfully. "You know me so well."

    "Ha! I would hope so," Hammond chortled, smiling under his mustache. "You are one of our most consistent regulars, after all."

    Julia smiled, looking like she wanted to dig into her food, but she held herself back as her uncle finished serving them, placing a savory smelling plate in front of Irene–was that venison?!

    "Ohoh, it seems Lady Julia did not exaggerate about your fondness for game," Hammond remarked, and Irene realized belatedly that she was practically drooling at the food in front of her.

    "T-thank you, Chef Hammond!" Irene squeaked, flushing in embarrassment at her lapse in manners. "It smells delicious!"

    "I'm glad to hear it, Lady Schwarzer," Hammond bowed thankfully. "I hope you all enjoy your food."

    "Err…how much does it cost?" Fion asked sheepishly.

    "I'll cover it," Julia cut in with a dismissive wave of her hand.

    "Lady Julia, there's no need–"

    "I'll cover it," she insisted, cutting her uncle off. "Really, Hammond, it's not as if I want for money. Even when Father curtails my allowances for one reason or another, he overestimates the amount of money I'd realistically go through."

    "Sweet," Fion cheered, before shoveling a pork cutlet into his mouth.

    "Thank you, Julia," Irene murmured, before taking a bite out of her food–

    It was good!

    Not quite as good as Mother's, but that was probably a difference of familiarity more than pure skill. No wonder Julia had such a knack for cooking.

    They all dug into their meals enthusiastically, and even Masha was forced to admit that it was good. Good enough that they all finished it faster than they expected.

    As they took a moment to collect themselves, Irene noticed Emmet and Fion looking at her with bemused expressions, while Masha gave Julia a strange look.

    "Err…is something wrong?" Irene asked hesitantly.

    "No," Emmet replied. "I was just a bit surprised that you liked game meat so much."

    "Also ate a lot," Fion remarked. "Pretty impressive."

    "Ymir is a remote place," Irene explained sheepishly, "so game meat is pretty common."

    "In hindsight, that should not have been surprising," Emmet acknowledged. "Though we should get started on our tasks. North Highway first? Based on the map it shouldn't be as far of a trip as to the fort."

    "That's correct," Julia replied. "I believe I know a good starting point to look for the dryad's tears, and while it isn't a short walk, per se, it is not as far as the fortress."

    "Does everyone have enough supplies?" Irene asked. "There was a store near the train station, if I remember correctly."

    "I have enough," Emmet replied.

    "Ditto," Fion concurred.

    Masha seemed lost in thought, but didn't protest when the group decided they would head straight out onto the highway.

    So, after a short trip back to their hotel to collect their weapons, that was what they did, with a brief pause as Julia entertained a couple of children that greeted her enthusiastically. They looked disappointed that she could not stop and read with them, but also understood that she was busy.

    "Is it safe for kids to be out by themselves like this?" Masha muttered a while after they left the children to their reading.

    "There's a couple soldiers keeping an eye on them," Fion observed. "And if they stay well behaved and out of the way most people won't pay them any attention."

    "I won't say Bareahard is completely safe for children, but there is little danger for them on the street like that," Julia replied. "Any danger to them is more…out of sight."

    "Like that?" Fion asked, pointing to a group of monsters near the road ahead of them.

    "Let's go with that," Julia snorted, readying her weapon.

    The monsters around the highway were not as numerous as the ones around Celdic, and were generally less aggressive, but that did not mean they were not dangerous, and it turned out to be a good thing Emmet brought antitoxins, because some of them were poisonous. It also did not help that a good number of the monsters were disguised as plants, and they needed to find hardened tree sap.

    To make matters worse, Julia, Emmet and Masha refused to link together, making coordinating more difficult, and there were several occasions where trouble could have been avoided if they had been linked. Still, at least they were able to focus enough during combat instead of insulting one another.

    Eventually, they managed to find a dryad's tear on an old looking tree a ways off the highway, the midday sun glinting off the stone drawing their eye to it.

    "So that baron guy was right," Fion remarked, prying the stone out with a knife and holding it up to let the sunlight shine through it. "Looks pretty enough, I guess."

    "This is pretty far off the highway," Irene observed. "What reason would Baron Bleublanc have for coming out here?"

    "I am not familiar with the man," Julia hummed. "I don't think he's a Kreuzen noble. Even if he didn't have much power, someone with his eccentricities would have had some stories told about him."

    "Do nobles from the rest of the country come here just to shop?" Masha asked disdainfully.

    "Are we even sure that guy was a real noble?" Emmet cut in. "I know most nobles can be a bit over the top, but that guy seemed like he was playing a theater part, or something of the sort."

    "Whatever he is, he was right," Fion muttered with a shrug. "So thanks to him, I guess."

    "True enough," Julia acknowledged. "If there is nothing more to do, let's return to the jeweler."

    "I'm sure Mister Bengt will be excited to see the stone!" Irene cheered, smiling at the thought. 'It is quite nice of Mister Bruc to help out the poor man instead of just turning him away.'

    And yet, when they returned to Turner's shop with the stone in hand, neither Bengt nor Bruc looked very enthusiastic, which seemed to have something to do with the other noble now present in the shop.

    "Count Gorti, what a pleasant surprise!" Julia chirped, clapping her hands together in feigned delight.

    "Lady Julia?! Well, I'll be!" the nobleman in an expensive looking suit exclaimed, bowing stiffly. "It is a pleasure to see you as always, my dear!" His accompanying butler and maid followed suit, but kept silent. "Are you interested in acquiring new jewelry? This shop has some satisfactory work indeed."

    Irene fought to keep a frown off her face. From what she had heard, Count Gorti was a man possessing more self-confidence than good sense. By a wide margin. What was he up to here?

    "While Misters Turner and Bruc certainly do good work, I am here on a school assignment," Julia explained with feigned cheer, "so I will unfortunately not have time for such matters."

    "That is a shame," the count sighed. "I believe a few of these pieces would look quite fetching on you."

    "I am sure they would add color to any proper lady," Julia demurred, "but that will have to wait until another time."

    The count blinked, looking affronted. "Lady Julia, do you mean to tell me that retrieving the gem was assigned to you? What nerve!"

    "It was assigned to my classmates and I, Count Gorti," she countered quickly, a dangerous smile on her face, "and the assignments were handed out by my brother personally."

    "I see…my mistake then," the count admitted. "Still, I do apologize for inconveniencing you."

    "I am not sure what you mean."

    "Ah, you were not present while our agreement was made," Count Gorti realized. "You see, Lady Julia, I have heard that the dryad's tears have significant medicinal benefits when consumed, so when I discovered this young man had already requested for someone to acquire the stone, I offered to purchase it from him."

    "I see…" Julia hummed, glancing over to the uncomfortable looking jeweler and young man, but both nodded at her in confirmation. "Well, we have acquired a dryad's tear, would you like to examine it first, Mister Bengt?"

    "No, it's fine," the young man sighed dejectedly. "Count Gorti has already paid me for the trouble."

    "Ok then," Fion grunted, taking the dryad's tear out of his pouch and offering it to the count, who just sneered at him while his maid stepped forward and took the stone, before turning and handing it to the count right afterwards.

    Count Gorti took the stone, examined it for a bit, before tossing it in his mouth and swallowing?!

    "Ah–!" Irene gasped. That couldn't be right!

    "What?!" Masha barked, her outrage finally slipping her control.

    "It was within his right to do so, now that he purchased the stone," Julia shot back sharply, trying to get the green haired girl to stop talking.

    "Perhaps," Irene interjected, "but while I am no expert on eastern medicine, I am fairly certain the dryad's tear is not supposed to be consumed like that. I believe it was boiled in tea or something along those lines."

    The count stiffened, a spark of indignation in his eyes as he wheeled on his servants. "Why did not you not tell me of this?!"

    "Respectfully, sir, we also were unaware," the butler pointed out. "The rumor that dryad's tears can reduce the effects of aging came from Lady Anseline, and you insisted we come here right away."

    "Hrmm…" the count grumbled, looking incredibly embarrassed. "No matter! Look into the proper procedure for the future!" With that, he swept angrily out of the shop, his servants trailing after him, the maid giving them a nervous goodbye on the way.

    "What the hell was that?!" Masha burst out.

    "Stupidity," Emmet snorted, "he's going to be sick."

    "He asked for it," Fion grunted with a shrug.

    "Can they really just…just waltz in and take what they want?" the green haired girl sputtered, looking at the jewelers and the morose looking young man searchingly.

    "He did pay for it," Bengt sighed, looking down. "So I can't really complain, and Bruc was willing to give me a discount so I could use that money to buy something–"

    "Now, now, we can't have this ruin your plans!" Julia declared, stepping forward and slinging an arm around Bengt's shoulder, causing everyone in the store to freeze up and stare at her in incomprehension.

    "W-what?!" the poor man stammered, a terrified look in his eyes.

    "You're about to take a big step, Mister Bengt," Julia continued, not noticing (or ignoring) the man's discomfort, "and you came all the way out here to get the perfect ring, but it turned out the perfect ring has an appropriately perfect price. Then you and Mister Bruc found a compromise, but then that arrogant ass Gorti came in and wrecked all your plans, did I miss anything?"

    "Um…no? I think that's everything?" Bengt stammered, looking more and more confused with every passing second.

    "Good. Now I want you to look through everything Misters Turner and Bruc have and find the gem your fiance to be will like the most, then if that fool of a count did not give you enough mira to purchase it, I will make up the difference."

    "W-what?!"

    "Did I not make myself clear enough?" Julia asked in a singsong voice.

    "There's no need for that, Lady Julia!" Turner cried. "If you wish, we could–"

    "Mister Turner," Julia interrupted in her Lady Albarea voice, "your generosity has been noted, but it would hardly be fair to penalize you for a situation in which you committed no wrong."

    "I see…that's very magnanimous of you, Lady Albarea," the jeweler bowed thankfully.

    "Now, Mister Bengt," Julia continued. "Tell me about your lady friend, and we'll see what fits her best."

    Still thrown off guard by Julia's sudden change in behavior, the young man almost automatically answered her questions, and Julia mulled over the selection before suggesting a shiny silver ring with a splendid emerald.

    Mister Bengt looked at it thoughtfully, before smiling. "You're right, Lady Albarea, I think she'll like this a lot. Though…uh…is there a reason you are doing this–I mean no offense of course! And is there anything I can do to repay you?"

    "I'm doing this because someone has to clean up the messes assholes leave behind," Julia snorted. "And you don't need to worry about it, we're supposed to use our resources and status to better the realm, after all. Just send me an invite to your wedding, or whatnot."

    The ring wasn't the most expensive piece in the shop, but it did outstrip the amount Count Gorti had paid, not that Julia batted an eye.

    "Geez, she's really rich, huh?" Fion observed.

    "Evidently," Emmet mumbled. "Though she's more frugal than I'd expected."

    Masha, on the other hand, had a really conflicted expression on her face, and Irene had to stifle a giggle at the sight.

    In the end, Mister Bengt left with a satisfactory ring, and Turner managed a sale he hadn't expected to, and things turned out better than it had looked.

    "My word! That was quite a turn!" the bombastic baron in purple crowed. "You certainly have a sense of drama, Lady Albarea!"

    "I'll take that as a compliment, Baron Bleublanc," Julia replied politely. "Were you waiting here this whole time?"

    "Perhaps I was, perhaps I wasn't," he waffled. "Either way, I do have to thank you for such a beautiful sight, but I must take my leave." He bowed theatrically, before heading out.

    "Well that was weird," Fion grunted.

    "We'll be taking our leave, Mister Turner," Julia called, nodding to the jeweler. "It was a pleasure working with you."

    "Thank you for your patronage, Lady Albarea."

    As they exited the shop, Masha paused. "Alright, what the hell was that?"

    "I thought we already addressed this, Regnitz," Julia answered, giving the greenete a bemused look.

    "No, why'd you do that? Does the money really mean so little to you?"

    "Sure, it's a bit of mira," Julia shrugged. "But like I said, dear old dad gives me a rather exorbitant budget for pretty things, and since he doesn't care enough about it to check what exactly I do with it, I can use it to help other people out."

    "But…why?" Masha repeated, still not understanding, though for once, she seemed to have seen past her preconceptions about nobles.

    "Because I could," Julia replied simply. "Surely, you of all people would understand the ill feeling when you see some injustice you could not stop or rectify? I simply have enough money to help make some of these smaller ones go away."

    "Credit where it is due, Albarea," Emmet said thoughtfully, "I have seen you put your money where your mouth is, unlike a certain someone." He gave Masha a side eyed glare, but surprisingly, the green haired girl didn't explode, instead frowning in thought.

    "Why, that almost sounded like a compliment!" Julia gasped theatrically, widening her eyes more than she needed to.

    "Don't read too much into it," their purple haired classmate snorted, adjusting his glasses.

    Irene smiled. It seemed like their group was starting to get along, somewhat.

    "So…are we just going to stand here flirting?" Fion asked idly.

    "You serious?" Emmet grunted, giving him an unimpressed look.

    "Gah! Can we go already?!" Masha barked, shaking her head furiously.

    "I…did not expect you to be so eager to meet members of the Provincial Army," Irene pointed out, which…probably didn't come across like she had intended, but it did make Masha pause in her tracks.

    True to their earlier promises, there were a few soldiers waiting for them at the gate to the Aurochs Canyon road. Two of them were armed with the typical rifles, but their apparent leader was an athletic woman armed with a greatsword.

    "Good afternoon, Lady Albarea," the chestnut haired officer greeted politely.

    "Good afternoon indeed," Julia returned, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "You are the daughter of Baron Edelbeck, correct?"

    "Indeed so," the officer confirmed with a smile. "Lieutenant Astrid Edelbeck at your service, and these two are Corporal Erik Becker and Private Herman Holtzman."

    "It's an honor to serve, Lady Albarea!" the two men called in unison, giving her rigid salutes.

    "No need for that," Julia sighed. "I may be an Albarea, but I am not your commander. Not to mention how I have inconvenienced you on your day off."

    "It is no great inconvenience at all, Lady Albarea," Edelbeck replied. "We volunteered because none of us had any important engagements this weekend."

    "We'll make sure nothing dares do you any harm, milady!" Holtzman declared.

    "Though as per the spirit of your task, we will let you handle the majority of the fighting unless it appears you are in danger," the lieutenant clarified.

    "Well, in that case, we would be happy to have your assistance," Julia declared. "While I have been down this road a few times, you surely know it better than I, so would you happen to know where we could find rock salt deposits?"

    "Rock salts? Someone made you collect rock salts?" Becker exclaimed indignantly.

    "That does not seem like a task Lord Rufus would assign," Edelbeck hummed.

    "It was Voltaire," Julia grumbled flatly, causing the three soldiers to scowl.

    Regardless if they liked it or not, they did guide the group to where they could find the salt down a side path leading off from the main road.

    The monsters they encountered were more dangerous than the ones on the north highway, but many of them chose not to attack the group, probably deterred by the soldiers' presence. When some did, their escort held true to their word and let the students do most of the fighting, only stepping in when they felt they needed assistance, which was probably more frequently than strictly necessary, but Irene could not really blame them.

    As much she could tell it was starting to get on Julia's nerves, from the soldiers' perspective, that paled in comparison to what would befall them if they let her get hurt.

    That said, their trepidation only got worse when they managed to corner the monster extermination target against the canyon.

    "We aren't seriously going to stand back and not help Lady Julia fight this thing, are we?" Holtzman wondered, leveling his rifle at the Fate Spinner as it snapped its large claws at them menacingly.

    "We can handle it ourselves," Emmet grunted. "Shouldn't be that hard to send it over the cliff, unless you need some kind of proof."

    "It survived a fall like that before," Becker grunted. "Which is part of why it hasn't been properly dealt with yet. That's also why I think you should at least allow us to assist."

    "As much as I appreciate the help, I will not have you complete an assignment on our behalf," Julia declared. "I understand your concerns, but our instructors would likely not be so understanding."

    "I see," Lieutenant Edelbeck hummed. "Then we shall not intervene unless one of you is at serious risk."

    "Sir?"

    "Is there a problem, Holtzman?"

    "Not at all sir. It's just…it doesn't feel right not to protect the finest jewel Bareahard has ever produced."

    "Gems are not so fragile," Edelbeck pointed out, "and most have to endure the jeweler's hammer before they can truly shine."

    Julia groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, which the soldiers seemed to ignore. "I appreciate your understanding, but I believe our quarry is getting impatient."

    "Wait, Albarea," Masha called. "We should try to link our ARCUS units."

    "Now, Regnitz?!" Julia snapped. "We hardly have the time for that."

    "It's worth a try," Irene pushed gently. "We really can't afford an accident this close to the cliff."

    Julia frowned, but nodded. "Very well then, if only to make sure you don't shoot any of us in the back."

    Masha sucked in an angry breath, but held her tongue, and the two bickering girls forced themselves into a combat link. For once, it held.

    Irene linked with Emmet, as Fion was the best at avoiding attacks by himself, and the group closed in on the monster, which had been gradually making more and more aggressive displays.

    Coordinated through their link, Masha's first slug shot slammed into the Fate Spinner's head, dropping its guard for Julia to lunge in and lance her rapier into one of its eyes, darting away before its reflexive snap of its pincer could catch her.

    Irene dashed forward, leaning to one side as a bolt of lightning shrieked over her shoulder, crashing into the monster's other pincer and leaving it open to her attack, allowing her to cut into its legs and knock it off balance.

    Fion and Julia capitalized on the weakness, the blonde slashing a rune blade through its armor while the agile youth covered her disengage with a flash grenade.

    They cycled through this plan of attack several times successfully, working in tandem to keep the monster off balance, and the fight seemed to be going well–

    Another Spark Arrow from Emmet struck the Fate Spinner, and it shrieked in pain, vomiting blood and toxic bile. Most of the group was fast enough to avoid it, but Masha was too slow, getting a face full of gunk and reflexively firing her shotgun blindly, almost hitting Julia in the process.

    "What are you playing at Regnitz?!" Julia barked, and Irene noticed their combat link fraying.

    A burst of aggression flooded over her own link with Emmet, and she instinctively rushed forwards, ducking under the monster's pincer and cutting through its injured knee, giving Emmet the opening he needed to jam his staff into a weakened point of its carapace.

    Fire bloomed from the end of his staff, and the monster jerked and screamed as it was burned from the inside, but it lacked the strength to resist.

    Eventually, its shrieks subsided and it ceased moving.

    "What was that, Albarea?!" Masha hissed, furiously wiping the vomit off of herself. "Why did you break the link?!"

    "I did no such thing!" Julia denied. "You were the one who broke the link!"

    "I did not!"

    "I would watch your tone, if I were you," Lieutenant Edelbeck barked warningly, walking over to check on the monster. "Especially when it is evident that you are the weak link in the group."

    Masha's face twisted in rage, but she chose not to express it aloud as the taller woman casually drove her greatsword through the monster's head.

    "Eh, it worked well enough," Emmet grunted, examining the scorched carcass. "Though why there are so many students at a military academy that don't have any combat training is a little strange."

    "Thors Military Academy has always prided itself on offering an elite education, even when it was primarily a military school, or so I have heard," Edelbeck explained almost wistfully, "so it is not shocking that people would want to send their children there even if they are not martially inclined."

    "Clearly things have changed for the worse, if they are no longer instilling proper discipline," Holtzman grumbled.

    "Still, the monster is dead," Becker pointed out, "so at least they know how to fight."

    "We should present the head to Aurochs Fortress as soon as possible," Lieutenant Edelbeck declared, "then we should be able to return to Bareahard by sunset."

    "Slight problem with that," Emmet objected. "Since you stabbed it to make sure it was dead, it's going to look like you killed it. None of us use a greatsword, and nobody is going to believe Irene could cause a wound like that even if she definitely could."

    The officer paused, before nodding. "You have a point, perhaps that was hasty of me."

    "Cut off its tongue," Fion suggested, glancing into the carcass' maw. "Or well, what's left of it."

    "Or take one of its pincers," Irene suggested. "They are mostly intact."

    "That should work," Emmet agreed, pulling a knife off his belt and sawing off one of the pincers surprisingly easily for a blade that small.

    Masha and Julia shared an uneasy glance, before quickly looking away from each other.

    "Is there a shower or something I could use at the fortress?" Masha asked, running a hand through her soiled hair in disgust.

    "There is a rest area where you can wash up," Edelbeck replied. "Of course, we cannot allow you entry further than that."

    "Right, of course."

    Now that the monster was slain, the group made their way down the road to Aurochs fortress.

    When they arrived, it was immediately evident that the fortress had seen significant amounts of modernization, with reinforced walls along with modern gun emplacements. The train rolling into the station loaded with modern tanks also demonstrated that the fortress was not the only thing that was being updated.

    "Oh cool! They're finally here!" Becker exclaimed.

    "Yes, but don't announce it to the world," Edelbeck sighed, giving her subordinate a reproachful glare.

    "Right, of course, sir."

    Masha stared at the scene with an outraged expression, but held her tongue, realizing that it was probably not a good idea to talk about certain things while the soldiers were with them.

    While most of the group delivered their trophy and reported the defeat of the monster, Holtzman directed Masha to the rest area where she could clean herself off.

    The soldiers who received the report were a bit impressed that a group of students managed to take down the monster, doubly so when they learned that their escort had not actually helped at all.

    With that task completed, the group rested for a bit at the visitor area as they waited for Masha to finish washing up.

    "So, is there going to be a war soon?" Fion wondered idly, drawing sharp looks from the rest of the group. "What?"

    "Hopefully not," Irene murmured.

    "The likelihood seems high," Emmet mused. "Crossbell continues to be a ticking time bomb, and well," he gestured around him. "It looks like people are getting ready for things to go loud in other ways too."

    "We should probably not be discussing this here, of all places," Julia cautioned, glancing over to their escort.

    "I can hardly blame you for stating the obvious," Lieutenant Edelbeck sighed. "But Lady Julia is correct, it is rather bad form to discuss such matters publically."

    "Are we done?" Masha interjected as she walked up to the group, her hair a mess, but at least relatively clean. "I really would prefer to get a proper shower as soon as possible."

    "Of course, who are we to deny the mighty Regnitz of a hot shower?" Julia snarked, rising from her seat.

    "Oh come on!" Masha groused. "I got monster vomit all over my clothes and in my hair!"

    "Should have dodged," Fion shrugged.

    "Very helpful you ass!"

    "At least no one got hurt," Irene cut in. "And we will probably be able to get some good food later too."

    That stopped the bickering short, and the group began to make its way back to the city, still accompanied by the trio of soldiers. However, before they lost sight of the fortress, alarms blared through the canyon and they whirled around to see sudden furious activity around the fortress as a vaguely T-shaped white object…floated up and away from the fortress and then past some cliff out of sight.

    "What in the world was that?" Masha murmured. "No way that's a bird, and it was way too small to be an airship."

    'Was that a person riding it?!'

    "What should we do sir?" Holtzman asked the lieutenant.

    "Looks like there was an intruder in the base. They could have just been observing the renovations…but the timing is suspicious," Edelbeck observed cooly, her grip tightening on her weapon. "That doesn't change our objective, and we will have to be doubly careful if someone is sneaking around using advanced equipment."

    Her gaze swept the surroundings carefully, before landing back onto the group of students. "Keep close to us, and don't let your guard down."

    The greatsword armed lieutenant took point and led them at a brisk pace, while her two subordinates fell in behind them, their weapons at the ready.

    Fortunately, they didn't encounter any more monsters on the road, likely scared off by the threatening aura emanating from the soldiers, but their journey did not go entirely without incident.

    "We got incoming!" Fion barked, and they turned to see a line of armored cars racing up the highway behind them.

    "Off the road!" Edelbeck ordered, waving at them to make way for the military vehicles.

    Spotting them, the armored cars slowed and slid to a halt next to them, the hatch on top of one opened and a familiar Provincial Army officer poked his head out. "Ho there! Did you see–Astrid?"

    "Sepp?" Lieutenant Edelbeck blurted out. "What are you doing here?"

    "Got called back from Celdic for some training–never mind that," Lieutenant Maier replied, before shaking his head. "Did you see the intruder? Someone riding some white floating device?"

    "We did, it headed southwest at significant speed," Lieutenant Edelbeck reported. "It will likely outpace you."

    "Damn!" Maier cursed, before pausing, "Apologies, Lady Albarea, but we must be going."

    "By all means," Julia returned with a nod. "Lieutenant Edelbeck will ensure we reach the city safely."

    "By your leave then. Also good to see you well, Lady Schwarzer. Let's go!" Maier barked, and the armored cars took off once again.

    "Are you…acquainted with Lieutenant Maier, Lieutenant Edelbeck?" Irene asked as the armored cars drove away.

    "We both studied at the Arseid school for some time," Edelbeck replied, raising an eyebrow at her, "I am more surprised you recognize him."

    "He and his men offered us some assistance during our field study in Celdic," Irene explained as they continued down the highway.

    "Hmm…sounds very much like him," the greatsword wielding woman hummed.

    "I heard that he did his job a little too well," Becker muttered. "Made Schwarmydorf a bit self conscious."

    "That is not something we should speak of now," Edelbeck warned.

    "Also, I didn't know you were that close to him, sir," Holtzman remarked. "Sepp, huh?"

    "Enough!" the lieutenant snapped. "That isn't important, keep your heads on a swivel."

    Julia smirked, apparently finding the interaction amusing, but after Irene gave her a meaningful look, decided not to mention it.

    The rest of their journey back to the city was uneventful. They delivered the salt to a very nervous looking Lord Voltaire, before returning to the hotel, where their escort departed.

    While most of them had managed to avoid getting as dirty as Masha, the hot shower was nice, and the available cosmetic products were a bit uncomfortably high end.

    After cleaning up, they sat down and began working on their reports.

    "Are we going to have dinner at Sorciere as well?" Irene asked as they finished up their paperwork.

    "That's what is in the itinerary, I believe," Julia replied, working her hair back into a complex braid. "And well, it is right over there."

    "I have to admit the food was good," Masha conceded.

    There was a knock on the door. "Pardon me, Lady Julia?" a nervous sounding concierge called. 'There is someone here who would like to speak with you."

    Julia stiffened, before squaring her shoulders, standing up, and walking over to open the door. "Is this someone who I think it is?"

    "Err…yes, Lady Julia," the concierge (Enrique, was it?) replied, looking contrite.

    "Then I best not keep him waiting."

    Masha stared curiously as the blonde marched out of the room, before turning to Irene questioningly. Irene shook her head, but that failed to dissuade the green haired girl, who padded after Julia.

    'Oh dear, this could be a problem,' Irene sighed in her head, before also following.

    She found Masha pausing at the door to the hotel, which was partially open, through which the bespectacled girl watched as Julia exchanged words with a man sitting in the back of an orbal limousine.

    Irene frowned. Julia had suggested her relationship with her father was less than ideal, but for him to not even bother getting out of a car to talk with her…that was worse than she had thought.

    His piece said, Duke Helmut Albarea rolled up his window and his car drove away, leaving Julia on the steps outside.

    "Didn't anyone teach you that eavesdropping was rude, Regnitz?" Julia called without looking back, her voice low and defeated.

    "Was that…?" Masha asked hesitantly.

    "Indeed, that was Duke Helmut Albarea," Julia confirmed, "and by some strange whim of fate, my father." She turned to look at them, before scoffing. "By Aidios, you look ridiculous."

    "If you hadn't been so vague, I would have made sure to stay away," Masha shot back. "Why didn't you say it was him? There's no way I want to be near him."

    Julia sighed, turning away and staring after the car. "I suppose I can't blame you there."

    "Umm…" Irene interrupted. "Shall we head to dinner?"

    "Might as well," her friend replied. "It looks like the two boys got hungry and are already over there."

    Sure enough, Fion and Emmet were already seated at one of the outside tables, the former sipping at a glass of orange juice, while the latter nursed a mug of beer.

    "I see you got started without us," Julia snarked as they approached the table.

    "Apologies for keeping you waiting," Irene offered, smiling apologetically.

    "It wasn't that long," Fion waved off.

    Emmet shrugged. "The owner seems to be quite accommodating for anyone in your orbit," he mused, "you two seem quite close."

    "This is one of my favorite restaurants," Julia pointed out, taking a seat across from her purple haired classmate.

    "And yet, I find myself unable to believe that your father or brother would frequent such a place," Emmet remarked, not accusingly, but simply curious.

    "Why of course!" Julia tittered. "A girl's got to have some place where their family isn't snooping on them."

    Emmet looked almost convinced, but something in his eyes suggested that he had figured something out, though Hammond and Bryce arriving with food meant he did not voice whatever he noticed aloud.

    The group thanked the chef for the food, but Irene couldn't help but notice that Emmet's gaze flickered between Julia and her uncle, a glint of understanding in his eyes. It seemed he realized that they were related. 'Quite a dangerously perceptive young man.'

    As much friction as there was this morning, Irene couldn't help but smile as it seemed that a significant amount of the animosity had cooled down, likely helped by their success at completing the day's tasks.

    Still, a glance at Masha suggested that things were not completely smoothed over, though it was at least ameliorated by good food for the moment.

    "So…" the green haired girl began, and Irene suddenly felt like she may have spoken too soon. "Tell me, Albarea, why exactly does the Provincial Army need all those Achtzehn tanks? It's been quite a long time since Aurochs Fortress was relevant in defending against Calvard."

    "Quite simple, really, Regnitz," Julia replied, sipping at her tea. "The Imperial Army has them, and given that it largely is under the Chancellor's control these days, the Provincial Army wants them."

    "And the higher taxes throughout the provinces?" Masha continued. "I saw some of that in Sutherland, and now here too. There is no way that is not connected to the build up in the Provincial Armies."

    "Of course," Julia shrugged. "Both sides are in an arms race, a rather natural result of neither side being willing to compromise."

    "What is there to compromise?" Masha grumbled. "It's the nobles that are whining over losing the unearned privileges they've enjoyed for so long!"

    "Sure, there's plenty of that," Julia conceded, "but there is much of the country that is strongly opposed to the more centralized sort of governance pushed by the Reformists. It leaves many people outside of Heimdallr feeling rather unrepresented."

    "As if this backwards feudal system gives the common people a say!"

    "It used to," Julia countered. "Often not any real say, but certainly the illusion of one. It is much easier to feel heard when there is a specific, recognizable person who at least nominally has a lot of say over things, and is theoretically available for petitioning. The Reformists' plan…does not really have that."

    "But the nobles don't do anything like that anymore," Masha hissed. "They just sit and enjoy the privileges of their station!"

    "Like the Arnors do?" Emmet interrupted, drawing shocked stares from the rest of the group, with even Fion looking at him in surprise.

    "What?" Their purple haired classmate grunted unapologetically. "The Emperor has basically handed over all his authority to the chancellor. The Empress, naturally, follows suit, and their children are too young to have any real power or influence. Only the bastard son seems to have any sort of backbone, even if his efforts don't seem to be amounting to much."

    Masha gawked, and even Julia's composure cracked. Irene could not blame them. Even the most ardent Reformist still avoided criticizing the Imperial Family, and the Noble Alliance always paid their respects, even if the actions of the Emperor went against their interests. For someone to so bluntly criticize them was…shocking.

    "T-that's a completely different story!" Masha sputtered.

    "How so?" Emmet pressed. "When was the last time the Emperor did anything that wasn't in lock step with the chancellor? He seems to me a man who has given up, leaving the chancellor the keys to the kingdom."

    "The Emperor must walk a fine line and be careful with his words," Julia interjected. "Otherwise, one side or the other would use him as a focal point to justify whatever action they take."

    "And was that how Dreichels became the Lionhearted?" Emmet retorted, turning to look Julia in the eye. "He did not tip toe around when the nation was in turmoil, quite the opposite." His lips curled up into a sardonic smile. "Perhaps the Blood is running a bit thin, if the bastard is the one with any merit worth speaking of."

    Julia's eyes widened, before she narrowed them. "You are playing with fire there, Millstein."

    "We are in a pan filled with oil and gunpowder, trying to sit very still so it doesn't cook off," he snorted. "It might be better to jump into the fire."

    "I…think this whole line of conversation is rather inappropriate!" Irene snapped, glaring at their purple haired classmate.

    "He's got a point though," Fion objected. "If the big boss doesn't keep his lieutenants in line, that's on him."

    "Let's…not talk about things that are beyond our power," Julia sighed. "I would rather not ruin this nice meal."

    Unfortunately, while the food was very good, their conversation made the rest of the night quite a bit more somber.
    AN. I feel like this chapter ends quite abruptly, but I couldn't really see a better place to cut it. Also funny note, I wasn't sure if Emmet should figure out Julia's parentage, so I had him roll for it. Not only did he narrowly beat Julia's Deception (by 1), he got a 101 on his Empathy roll. His Empathy stat is a 3. Also Emmet can you stop raising every red flag you can find?!
     
  • Threadmarks
    • 11. Signs of Schism
  • Threadmarks
    • Signs of Schism​
    Heat licked at her skin but ice gripped her heart.

    "Mama! Wake up!" Irene cried frantically, trying desperately to rouse her mother, childish body struggling to move her slumped form.

    She had had this dream before, so she knew the woman–her mother, was…would not stir, and yet she still cried anyways.

    Debris crunched under a boot, and she looked up to see a lensed helmeted figure–

    Irene woke with a start as pain lanced through her chest, strangling a shocked gasp in its crib.

    'Again? Why have they started again?'

    "Couldn't sleep?" a voice called softly from her left, and she turned to see Julia watching her, the moonlight shining in her pale blue eyes.

    Still trying to catch her breath, Irene just nodded.

    "Nightmares again?"

    "Y-yes, it seems so."

    "I thought they were getting better."

    "They did, for a while," Irene clarified. "But they've come back more since I started Thors…" she paused. "For some reason, they are worse on field studies."

    "Maybe it's the stress," Julia theorized. "Sorry about that, by the way. I've not been the most cooperative, have I?"

    "No, you haven't," Irene sniffed. "Although…I don't really blame you too much. Having to put up a polite mask is…tiring."

    "It's easy enough with some people, like Uncle Hammond," Julia countered, "but yeah, for a lot of others, it's not pleasant to have to smile and wave at people who you know full well will talk bad of you behind your back."

    "Yeah…" Irene sighed, thinking back to her first few months at St. Astraia. She had known she would face ridicule going in…but knowing and experiencing were two different things.

    "You know…I rather miss this," Julia hummed, a wistful smile on her face.

    "This?"

    "Being roommates."

    "I…well, while becoming friends was perhaps the best part of my first year at St. Astraia, I can't say I miss that time," Irene sighed.

    "Ah…right, I should have thought of that," Julia muttered contritely, looking back up at the ceiling. "The bastard room, or so they called it."

    "Very uncouth of them," Irene huffed. Now that it was in the past, and she had grown thick enough skin to prevent those jabs from getting to her, it sounded a little funny, but it had been very hurtful in the moment.

    "Yeah, only one of us is a bastard," Julia chuckled. "But we can't expect those girls to use their brains, can we?"

    "Not for their intended purpose," Irene whispered, stifling a giggle.

    Julia snickered quietly, and Irene remembered their shared glee when they had both scored well above their detractors that year.

    "Still though…I do quite miss these conversations," Julia whispered. "There is something distinctly candid about talking like this."

    "Err…Julia, you do remember that we're in the same dorm, right?" Irene asked teasingly. "If you want, we can visit each other's rooms."

    "Now, now, Irene," Julia countered, a smirk evident even in the darkness. "We both know the meaning is quite a bit different in that context."

    "Julia!" Irene hissed.

    "Come now, Irene, don't make too much noise," her friend admonished playfully. "We don't want to interrupt our classmate's beauty sleep. She does need that, after all."

    "That was an unnecessary jab, Julia," Irene sighed.

    "...Probably. She just reminds me a bit of those girls back then," Julia grumbled. "Quick to judge and way too sure of their own superiority."

    "I…don't think that's entirely fair," Irene disagreed, frowning in thought. "Maybe something happened to her…or people she knew. It seems rather…personal."

    "You may be right," Julia conceded. "Though if you are, I don't think we'll be learning about it anytime soon."

    "We shouldn't gossip too much," Irene chided gently, "especially since we have another day of our study left."

    Julia sighed. "True, and if that were not enough, Father informed me that I was to meet with another false start of a suitor tomorrow evening, so I likely will not be returning to Trista at the same time as you all."

    "Oh…was that it?" Irene asked worriedly. "No mention of who it was and what their family is like?"

    "Only the briefest explanation," her friend replied. "Just another family he's trying to string along using me as a bargaining chip."

    "Does your brother know? Or your step mother?"

    Julia snorted. "Rufus might know. If he does, then this Rogar will at least be a respectable person, if Lady Albarea arranged it, then he'll be an insufferable ass."

    "Is…her judgment that bad?"

    "Pah! If only," Julia scoffed. "She knows exactly what she is doing, and…I can see why she does it."

    "Because…you're not her daughter?"

    "And if that wasn't enough, I resemble my mother quite a bit, just with my father's eyes," Julia sighed. "Lady Albarea can barely stand to be in the same room as me anymore."

    "...Has it gotten worse the past year?" Irene asked softly. "You didn't make it sound this severe back at St. Astraia."

    "I grew up, with all that entails."

    "I…think I see why you were not enthused about staying at the main residence."

    "You know me so well, Irene."

    "...We should get to sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

    The two of them lapsed into silence, the comfortable familiarity flittering away like a distant dream and Irene fell asleep shortly afterwards.
    The next morning saw all three girls in the group waking up early, as while Irene did her best to be quiet, she still ended up making enough noise to stir Julia and Masha from their slumber.

    "I do not miss this part of being roommates," Julia grumbled as she stretched out the sluggishness of sleep.

    "I apologize for waking you up," Irene offered with a contrite wince.

    "Not really your fault you getting up this early makes me feel lazy," her friend snorted. "Might as well get an early start."

    "Do you really get up at this time every day?" Masha wondered. "The sky is barely gray."

    "Err…yes?" Irene replied, not sure what the issue was. "The mornings are a good time to train, as it is still cool."

    "I guess that makes sense," the green haired girl grumbled, working through her own set of stretches, her gaze occasionally wandering over to Julia.

    'Oh right, I guess Masha had never seen how flexible Julia is before.'

    Though it had been a few years since they shared a room, Irene and Julia fell back neatly into some old habits as they prepared for the day, the former helping the latter with her hair, while the latter offered some make up suggestions in return.

    Neither saw fit to do something overly complicated, as while they needed to be presentable, they were still likely to be performing some physical activities.

    "Aren't we going to be fighting monsters again?" Masha asked, giving them a questioning look.

    "That seems a likely possibility," Julia replied, securing her hair in a neat bun. "However, we still must make an effort to look at least somewhat presentable or else tongues will wag. In hindsight, it might have been simpler to go through this field exercise incognito, but my dear brother has cut off any chance of that at the legs."

    "Would wearing something more practical be so bad?" their green haired classmate grumbled.

    "Not really," Julia replied. "I'd prefer that, honestly, but I have to keep up a certain appearance."

    "Really? Even though we're probably going to be heading out of the city for most of the day?" Masha inquired. For once, her tone was actually purely curious, lacking much of the usual edge it had when she spoke to them.

    "Well…it's a bit like how businessmen and merchants tend to wear suits even when it isn't the most practical," Irene explained. "I'm sure your father wears something like that quite often, even though it isn't the most comfortable for doing paperwork. The point is to look professional."

    "It is not that dissimilar from wearing a school uniform," Julia supplemented. "Just…a fair bit less standardized…and subject to change for no good reason."

    "At least you have enough influence to start trends yourself," Irene huffed, bumping her friend affectionately with her hip. "Some of us are not so fortunate."

    "It can be a heavy burden, being responsible for creating demand for certain tailors," Julia remarked drily. While she was mostly joking, apparently the people who made the clothes for her official appearances tended to get many more orders afterwards.

    "That must be kind of annoying," Masha muttered, "having people stare at you all the time."

    Julia paused, turning to give the green haired girl a curious look. "It can be, but it is what it is."

    While it wasn't exactly friendly, it was a much less hostile interaction, so Irene decided to call it a small victory.

    By the time they were prepared and exited the room, Emmet and Fion were already there, the former standing next to an uncomfortable looking Manager Richeliu, while the latter leaned against a wall nearby.

    "Oh good, you're up," Emmet grunted in lieu of a greeting. "Now we can actually get our tasks for the day."

    "Come now, Millstein, there's no need to menace Manager Richeliu," Julia chided.

    "He insisted that he wanted to hand us our tasks when we were all present," the purple haired man replied with a shrug, "so here we are."

    "Good morning, Lady Julia," the man in question greeted politely, though it was quite evident that something about Emmet and Fion unnerved him. "I had thought it prudent to hand you your tasks while everyone was present, but this gentleman would not see reason."

    "I did see the reason, and I was unimpressed," Emmet drawled, "but I still waited nonetheless."

    "You should have said that out loud instead of just standing grumpily next to him," Julia sighed, "or else it would be impolite for him to leave."

    Emmet blinked. "Oh, I apologize, then. Too used to being ignored."

    "I see…" the manager trailed off, before coughing into his fist. "In any case, I present to you the tasks as set by Lord Rufus Albarea." He held out a familiar looking Thors folder for them to take.

    Emmet took the folder, extricating the task sheet and holding it out so the rest of the group could read it as well.

    "Another monster extermination, and Chef Hammond asking for help with finding some ingredients?" Masha mumbled. "That doesn't seem that bad."

    "Why does the cookery need our help to find ingredients?" Fion asked. "They've got to have a supplier already."

    Julia sighed and shook her head. "They certainly do, but it looks like Hammond wants some really fresh ingredients. The fat he requires should be easy enough to find on certain types of monsters on the northern highway. The herb though…might be something a church sister or brother would be willing to part with."

    "Why's that?" Fion asked. "Is it a special plant?"

    "Not exactly, it does have medicinal properties, so you can find it at an apothecary, but if I am correct about what Hammond is looking for, then you will want the one sourced by the church," Julia explained.

    "That makes it sound like a special plant," Fion noted, tilting his head curiously.

    "It is…sentimental, I suppose," Julia finally conceded, shaking her head. "He does not have to go this much out of his way for me."

    "And yet he chooses to," Irene remarked with a knowing smile.

    "Whatever the case, it appears we will not have to cover as much ground today," Emmet noted. "Though I am admittedly a bit curious why the Provincial Army was not called to deal with the monster if it was obstructing a highway."

    "Perhaps my brother had them leave it for us to deal with," Julia suggested.

    "That seems…rather irresponsible," Emmet observed drily. "Which tracks, I suppose."

    Julia sent him an unimpressed look, but their purple haired classmate did not seem to notice.

    "Well, then we should hurry and get rid of the monster so it doesn't bother anyone," Irene prompted, before they got too off track.

    "Yeah, we should get started," Masha chimed in. "That should give us enough time to get our combat link sorted out."

    "Oh? So you want to try again?" Julia asked, giving her a searching look. "What brought this on, I wonder?"

    "I…was not content with my performance yesterday, that's all," Masha replied, a bit too quickly to be believable.

    "Ah, I see!" Julia chuffed, her lips pulling upwards into a smug grin. "How magnanimous of you."

    "Don't get the wrong idea!" Masha snapped. "I just don't want to get vomited on again!"

    "A worthy cause," Fion nodded.

    "I certainly cannot begrudge you that desire," Julia acknowledged with a sympathetic look. "Very well then, shall we–"

    She paused as the doors to the hotel opened and a familiar looking butler stepped inside.

    "Arnauld?"

    "Good morning, Lady Julia," the butler bowed deeply in greeting. "I am here to collect you for–"

    "Now?" Julia exclaimed, her brow furrowing in displeasure. "Father informed me it would be in the evening last night."

    "I am in no position to question the Duke's decision," Arnauld demurred, "though I do regret thrusting this change upon you so suddenly, my lady."

    Julia sighed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "And here I thought he would be considerate enough not to interfere excessively with my education."

    "I do apologize, Lady Julia," Arnauld offered. "We had planned on timing things so you would have time for your schoolwork, but some schedules shifted, so your father decided to call for you earlier."

    "It is what it is," Julia grumbled, turning apologetically towards her classmates. "It appears I will not be able to assist you today after all."

    "It's fine," Masha replied in a surprisingly understanding tone. "You have other responsibilities, and it's not really your fault."

    "That…is unusually gracious of you," Julia observed, giving her a considering look.

    "We can figure out the link another time," Masha shrugged. "Not that we're friends, or anything."

    "Hmm…I will hold you to it then, Regnitz." Julia then nodded to the rest of the group. "Forgive me, but I have other sudden arrangements."

    "Good luck!" Irene offered, drawing a small, grateful smile from Julia, before the blonde turned and strode out of the hotel along with her butler.

    "That timing is…pretty suspicious," Masha muttered, frowning in thought.

    "Didn't realize you were looking forward to getting hitched with her," Emmet snorted, ignoring the green haired girl's outraged sounds. "Looks like her dad is either pulling a power play over her or he just doesn't care."

    "That's not–what in Aidios' name are you implying here?!" Masha sputtered.

    "I think, with Julia's absence," Irene interrupted, giving the bickering two a warning look, "that means since the two of you would not link yesterday, it will be your turn to link together."

    Emmet and Masha turned and glared at her.

    "That's not how it works!"

    "I never agreed to anything."

    "That is how it works, and you will agree," Irene insisted politely.

    Emmet and Masha stared at her, glancing at each other in confusion, before turning and looking at Fion for help.

    "Hey, there's only so much of me to go around," the silver haired boy shrugged.

    "Fine," Emmet bit out, looking away. "If only to avoid getting shot in the back."

    Masha grit her teeth, but nodded.

    With that decided, the group decided to visit the shops in Christie's Galleria to restock up on some curatives, as well as to see if they could find the healing herb requested by Chef Hammond.

    As Julia feared, they were not able to find anyone with it in stock, as it was apparently out of season. On another note, they ran into another butler, one who looked vaguely familiar to Irene.

    "Mr….Carrigan?" Irene asked, hoping she was not making a fool of herself.

    "Huh? Oh! Hello, young lady," the butler exclaimed, shaking himself out of his musing. "I am indeed Carrigan, though I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage."

    "I am Irene Schwarzer".

    "Ah, you are one of Lady Annabelle's school acquaintances," the butler realized. "I am sorry that this may seem abrupt, but have you seen Lady Annabelle?"

    Irene's expression darkened. "I did, in fact. I met her in Celdic, and told her in no uncertain terms to go home. When I see her next I am going to be very cross with her."

    "Oh! So you are the friend Lady Annabelle mentioned," Carrigan cried. "You have my deepest gratitude, and that of House van Brakell! None of us had any idea where she was until she sent us a letter last month!"

    "Did this letter explain why she chose not to return home?" Irene asked, unimpressed with her former schoolmate's decision making.

    "She said she needed to pay her respects to the goddess," the butler replied, "but I have visited the cathedral in Heimdallr, Saint Arkh, Ordis, even Roer, and now here, but none of the clergy there remembered seeing her."

    "Pay her respects to the goddess, huh?" Emmet snorted.

    "Did…she decide to go to Arteria?" Fion wondered.

    Carrigan's eyes widened. "That…! Hmmm….I must go. You have my eternal gratitude." The elderly man abruptly hurried off.

    "Uh…you're welcome?" Fion gave a thumbs up at his back.

    "That girl!" Irene huffed, shaking her head. How in the world could someone interpret what she said as visiting the Holy City?!

    "You…must have really put the fear of Aidios into that girl," Emmet remarked, giving Irene a reassessing glance.

    "I just told her to go home!"

    "And she's preparing to meet her maker," Fion chuckled.

    "I'm not that intimidating!"

    "I don't know, you can be pretty scary," Masha piled on.

    "I am not!"

    "Acting cute now isn't going to change the fact you scared a girl into going on a pilgrimage," Emmet drawled.

    "W-what?!" Irene sputtered, before shaking her head furiously. "Let's just go kill some monsters already."

    In hindsight, that might not have helped her case.
    Despite Irene's suggestion, the group ended up heading to the cathedral first to see if they had the herb in question, and as it so happened, the kindly sister in charge of the infirmary had some in stock.

    Since Sorciere was not far from the cathedral, they stopped by and handed it off to Hammond for safekeeping rather than risk it being damaged while they were fighting monsters. The chef had looked disappointed that Julia wasn't with them, but just shook his head understandingly when they explained that her father had called her away.

    That all but confirmed to Irene that he wanted to make a special version of Julia's favorite dish, something that would not make it to the intended recipient because of Duke Albarea's inconsiderate behavior.

    With the herb secured, the group made their way onto the northern highway, searching for a few monsters that were known for having tasty fat. Emmet and Masha managed to form a combat link, and after a few attempts, even managed to keep it stable, which greatly improved their ability to deal with the monsters, to the point that they managed to avoid anyone getting poisoned.

    It took some time, but collecting the required amount of fat proved straightforward enough, and the group soon found themselves observing the monster they were supposed to kill while still feeling relatively fresh themselves.

    "A giant mantrap. On a paved road. How suspicious." Emmet glared at the monster, as if he could combust it with his eyes alone.

    "Blocking a bridge too," Fion added. "Almost looks planned."

    "But who would benefit from something like this?" Irene asked. "It will stop people from getting across the bridge, but it won't stop someone really determined."

    "Is the Provincial Army still busy with the intruder from yesterday?" Masha wondered. "Because letting this thing hang out there makes them look a bit incompetent."

    "Unless they placed it here for us to kill–actually no, that still makes them look dumb," Fion mused.

    "Whatever the case, it's best we get rid of the monster before it can hurt anyone," Irene concluded. This was the second field study where monsters were acting weird, but they really had nothing to go on, so first things first.

    "Mantraps are weak to fire, but aren't going to be too affected by wind or water, and are neutral against earth," Emmet listed off, "so it'll mostly be up to me to hit it with arts."

    Irene nodded for a second, her offensive art was a wind art, then again, the other member of their group who used arts significantly was Julia, and she wasn't here at the moment.

    "Wait, I thought your ARCUS was set up with a wind master quartz?" Masha asked. "Did you add fire quartz to it?"

    "Don't worry about it," Emmet dismissed. "I can throw some heat around."

    "It's probably going to spit gunk at us, probably don't want to stay near it either," Fion suggested.

    "I guess it makes sense for you and Irene to link then, so you can cover each other dashing in and out."

    "That seems like it could work," Irene agreed. "And you and Masha can attack from a distance."

    "And with a big, slow target like that, you should be able to avoid hitting us," Fion added helpfully, drawing an annoyed glare from Masha. "What?"

    The basic plan decided, the group closed in the large mantrap, their arrival heralded by a blast of fire from Emmet and a solid slug shot from Masha, stunning the monster briefly, just enough for Fion and Irene to dash in, the former dropping a grenade in one gaping plant mouth while the latter cut through at one of its necks, almost taking the side head off completely.

    But the monster had several heads, and the one they had failed to hit spat something foul in their general direction, fortunately not hitting any of them as another one of the heads got in its way.

    Already off balance from the sudden assault, and assailed constantly by a group synchronized using the ARCUS links, the monster never had a chance to recover, and in short order, it collapsed into an unmoving pile of plant(?) matter, failing to score more than superficial injuries on any of them. Masha, fortunately, remained ungunked.

    "Well, that was easy," Fion muttered.

    "Maybe," Emmet cautioned, fire blooming from the end of his staff as he made extra sure the monster was dead. "Ok, it's dead."

    "Maybe you should burn it a little more," Masha snarked, looking pleased with herself that she had not had a friendly fire incident. "We've got enough globby fat that you can incinerate the whole corpse if you want to."

    "Tempting," Emmet grunted, knocking off the last charred head with his staff, "but unnecessary."

    "It is approaching lunchtime," Irene observed, glancing up briefly at the position of the sun. "So if we drop off the ingredients for Hammond, we should be able to stop there for lunch."

    "Can we afford it if Julia isn't here?" Fion asked, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "It's a lot easier having the local boss' daughter around."

    "I believe some of it is covered by the school," Irene explained. "It was a known factor in the planning of this field study that Bareahard tends to be on the expensive side in general, including food."

    "They are really putting quite a lot of resources into us," Emmet grumbled, looking thoughtful. "What exactly do they want?"

    "I dunno, isn't it normal to feed your students?" Fion wondered. "Being hungry tends to make it hard to study…well, unless you have to study to eat, but that doesn't work great either."

    "I don't believe so. While Instructor Altheim is a good enough cook, she does not make food for us," Emmet pointed out. "If anything, she makes us cook for her, which is to be expected."

    Irene and Masha shared a worried glance. Just what kind of life did the two boys live? 'Though…Emmet is definitely right to be curious about the purpose of our class. Even if what I concluded is correct, it is a significant investment with a questionable return.'

    "I don't think Thors Military Academy would be doing anything nefarious," Masha declared confidently. "I think Schwarzer was probably right about it being an attempt to bridge the class divide, though it…does seem less than well thought out."

    "Might be a bit late too," Fion grunted, "if people are already gearing up for war."

    "Let's…not speculate about things we have no control over," Irene sighed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Her silver haired classmate had a point, but it wouldn't do them any good to think about it right now.

    "Yeah, let's just finish this task, and then we can be out of here as fast as possible," Masha suggested. "I think I've spent enough time this week around nobles."

    Their tasks completed well before the deadline, the group made their way back to Bareahard.

    However, things took a sudden turn when the gate guards stopped them.

    "Halt!" one of them barked, a different man than the one who they had seen on their way out. 'Had there been a shift change?'

    "Is there a problem, sir?" Irene inquired politely as the group stopped in their tracks. "We have dealt with the monster blocking the highway."

    "You did?" the other soldier at the gate asked, giving her a skeptical look.

    "Beside the point for now," the first soldier, looking at Masha in particular. "You are Masha Regnitz, correct?"

    "Err…yes?" Masha replied hesitantly, looking like she was a moment from running.

    "In that case, please come with us to the guardhouse," the soldier ordered. "We believe you have information about the events at Aurochs Fortress yesterday evening, and would appreciate your cooperation."

    "What?! I don't know anything about that!" Masha burst out. "We were there for a few minutes to report on killing a monster for you and to use the visitor area's washroom!"

    "So you confirm that you were there," the soldier went on, "thus why we need to ask you some questions."

    "Were the rest of you there as well?" the second soldier asked.

    "We were," Irene confirmed. 'If they are questioning all of us, then Masha won't be as singled out.'

    She felt Emmet and Fion shift, and for a moment she was afraid that they might resort to violence.

    "They only told us to bring Regnitz in," the second soldier muttered, "but if they were all there, shouldn't we question all of them?"

    "Lady Julia was also present," Emmet pointed out.

    "If she was, it could not have been her," the first soldier dismissed, glaring at his compatriot. "And we aren't going to arrest people for no reason, so we will collect the person we were ordered to."

    "But shouldn't we bring all of them since they were all there?" the second soldier asked.

    "No," the first soldier snapped. "The others were accounted for their entire visit, but Regnitz was unaccounted for during part of her time at the fortress."

    "Unaccounted for–I was in the washroom!" Masha shrieked. "I was cleaning out vomit from a monster we killed because you all couldn't be bothered to!"

    "You're only making this worse for yourself," the first soldier warned.

    "Yes, Masha, I don't think yelling at them will help," Irene added, with a slim hope that the green haired girl would not draw the attention of more soldiers.

    "You told me I shouldn't give them a reason!" Masha cried. "Well guess what! They didn't need a damn reason!"

    "What is going on here?!" another voice barked, and Irene felt her stomach sink as more soldiers rushed over, including an officer.

    "The suspect is refusing to come willingly," the first soldier reported.

    "And her compatriots are willing to answer questions," the second soldier added.

    "They are not important," the officer dismissed. "Regnitz, you will comply or you will be charged with resisting arrest."

    "I have done nothing wrong!" Masha insisted, her eyes wide with fear, her body stiff and trembling.

    "That remains to be seen," the officer retorted. "Take her to the guardhouse." Two of the soldiers moved to grab Masha and she all but collapsed, forcing them to drag her down the street.

    Irene wanted to do something, but her feet wouldn't move, locked in place by the shock of the sudden turn. What could she do, anyways? Her family had no authority here, and Julia wasn't with them–oh…

    Emmet stood stock still, but his eyes darted back and forth, sweeping across the street, ready to spring into action.

    Fion nudged him with his shoulder and shook his head. "Too many witnesses," he muttered lowly.

    "Right, that would reflect poorly on our grade," Emmet grumbled darkly.

    In another circumstance, Irene would probably have been more put off by such callous logic, but right now, Masha's fears coming true took up all of her attention. "W-wha…what do we do?"

    "I guess drop off the globby fat?" Fion suggested. "Doesn't sound like they're planning on offing her, at least anytime soon, and it'll be better to finish the job first."

    "F-fion!" Irene squeaked, aghast at his implication, and struggling to understand his logic, before looking at Emmet's unsurprised expression. "H-how…how are you two so calm about this?" she whispered. "Is having people you know being arrested suddenly a common occurrence?"

    "Not–"

    "Yep."

    Emmet and Irene stared at Fion for a second. The silver haired boy looked back at them curiously, as if that was a normal thing.

    "Ah…that aside," Emmet said slowly, giving Fion a searching look, "panicking will do us no good."

    "That…is true," Irene sighed, "and something tells me that there will be no convincing them that Masha didn't do anything. Otherwise, they would have taken us in for questioning as well."

    "Yep, definitely a hostage thing," Fion replied.

    "And since Julia was conveniently called away…" Irene murmured thoughtfully.

    "Must have been the Duke," Emmet concluded. "And to Fion's suggestion, the ingredients will weigh us down, as they aren't flammable enough to be useful, so we might as well hand them in." He shrugged. "And this is probably something we shouldn't work through on an empty stomach. Though this depends on how much time we have."

    "Definitely enough time for that," Fion mused. "They'll need to make demands, then give time for a response. Not sure how long though."

    "Hmm…there are few material things a man like the Duke would want that he could leverage with this stunt," Emmet murmured thoughtfully. "The only sort of thing I could see is demanding some political concessions, but that seems rather…"

    "Sounds dumb," Fion grunted. "He'd have to keep her hostage forever for that to work. Not like they can't just say stuff, then go back on it once she gets handed back. Nothing worth less than a politician's word."

    "I would say that of a pathological liar, but I repeat myself," Emmet snorted. "Still, we should have at least this afternoon, after which, our reason for being here becomes less easily explained."

    "We're not going to just leave without her, right?" Irene asked worriedly.

    "Of course not," Emmet scoffed. "If you are correct about how these studies are graded, they would certainly dock points for that."

    While Irene wasn't sure if their instructors would be that unreasonable, she decided it was probably good enough that the thought prevented Emmet from just abandoning their classmate.

    First, they delivered the ingredients to Hammond, who took them gratefully, though he looked confused by their second missing classmate.

    "Where did Miss Regnitz go?" he asked, sensing something was wrong.

    "Soldiers grabbed her," Fion said under his breath, leaning on the counter. "Said she was suspected of espionage. Seems bunk."

    "Surely not!" Hammond gasped.

    "Yeah, probably politics."

    The chef's eyes hardened. "I see. I had hoped to cheer Lady Julia up with more of her favorite meal, but it seems the Duke has other plans." He stepped over and opened the gate in the counter and waved them in, directing them into the kitchen. "I'll whip up some lunch for all of you, and we will make sure to tell the soldiers who come looking that there was nothing suspicious about your classmate."

    As they stepped inside, Emmet paused, waiting for Hammond to close the door, before giving the older man an interrogative stare. "Julia is more than simply a regular customer to you, isn't she?"

    Hammond almost flinched, but caught himself. "Hmph, noticed that, did you?" He narrowed his eyes at the defiant student. "Quite a dangerous young man you are. Just what are your intentions towards my niece?"

    "Niece?" Fion wondered.

    "I see," Emmet said slowly, the gears turning in his head. "That explains many things."

    "I will not speak ill of our illustrious Duke," Hammond said acidly, "but his treatment of his daughter is not something I am impressed by. I had hoped cooking some of what Henna used to make for her would help her, but he had to ruin that too." He shook his head. "At least it will help you lot though."

    "Could you show me the recipe?" Emmet asked softly, his face…wistful(?)

    "I…notice you did not answer my earlier question, young man," Hammond pointed out suspiciously.

    "I have no intentions toward her," Emmet denied. "I am just familiar with that kind of nostalgia."

    "I see…" the chef murmured. "Then how about you help me cook?"

    "Fair enough."

    "Oh! May I help as well?" Irene asked. Some instruction from a professional chef would be invaluable.

    "Can I help too?" Fion asked, not wanting to be left out.

    "Well, you three are certainly enthusiastic!" Hammond chuckled. "Let's see how you stack up to Calmin."

    It turned out that all three of them had some knowledge of cooking, but the chef outstripped them all. Not that surprising, but it was still an enlightening experience, one which helped take their minds off of the situation for the time being.

    Still, not even the very tasty result of their efforts could remove the pall the day's events had cast over the group.

    "Do you think they will move her to the fortress?" Emmet piped up during their meal, glancing up from the small table they were sitting at.

    "Maybe," Fion replied. "Probably not for a bit. They'll want to secure her, but might not be the best idea to put the person you accuse of sneaking into into the place you accused her of sneaking into."

    "It would not be an appropriate place to house a person before trial," Irene added, "but I am not sure that law matters that much to the Duke."

    "So best to bust her out from the guardhouse," Fion concluded.

    "Would be easier than the fortress," Emmet considered, "but how would we get in and out undetected? As sketchy as some of their orders were, some of the soldiers aren't exactly idiots."

    "...There is something Julia mentioned…" Irene replied after a moment. "She said she and Theresia sometimes snuck into the waterways below the city to fight monsters for training."

    "And those can allow us an alternate approach to the guardhouse?" Emmet prompted. "It might be troublesome to navigate an area we've never been in under a city we aren't particularly familiar with."

    "Sounds like it'd be easy to get lost," Fion agreed. "And it's not like we can just get a map, not without being real suspicious."

    "I am fairly certain Julia mentioned that she could access the area from around the river," Irene added, "she also mentioned that the guardhouse does have a way of accessing the waterways so the soldiers could perform sweeps of them on occasion."

    "So we might run into patrols there too," Fion grunted. "Not great."

    "About that…" Hammond interjected, not pausing from cooking another customer's meal. "I've heard people complaining that the army hasn't been clearing out the waterways often enough recently. If I remember correctly, someone lost their dog to a monster that popped out of a sewer."

    "Why are they being so negligent?!" Irene exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "Celdic was one thing, but this is Bareahard!"

    "They never did patrol the waterways that much," Hammond replied. "It was usually the bracers who dealt with most of the monster requests, and now that they are mostly defunct, with the closest office still open being in Legram, the problem has been left unattended for a while."

    "That still doesn't explain why they haven't stepped in to fill that role!" Irene huffed angrily, crossing her arms in disapproval. "They raised taxes to expand the Provincial Army but don't use that to fulfill their duties, and I've met a few soldiers who wouldn't have a problem with doing those jobs, so it has to be poor leadership."

    "Probably have other priorities," Emmet shrugged. "They seem to be a lot less provincial and more the duke's lapdogs…then again, the Imperial Army seems less Imperial and the more the chancellor's hammer these days, and the RMP and Intelligence Division aren't filling in the void left by the bracers any better, from what I hear, so it seems like people are getting neglected everywhere."

    "Sounds bad, but how does that help us?" Fion wondered, startling his classmates out of their rant.

    "It means we likely aren't going to have to dodge patrols," Emmet noted. "But we still have no way of determining how to navigate the waterways."

    "I must ask, you young ones do understand that what you are suggesting is quite illegal, right?" Hammond pointed out. "And while being friends with Julia can smooth over many things, there's a limit to her influence."

    "When the people in charge are wrong, disobedience is the only appropriate response," Emmet declared, his eyes hard.

    "What are friends for, if not for busting you out of the slammer?" Fion shrugged.

    "A…" Irene began, faltering a bit. If they got caught, then things would be even worse. Still… "The loyalty owed to a noble goes two ways," she continued after a moment. "If a lord–no, if a ruler has no loyalty to their vassals, then they can hardly expect said vassals to serve them well."

    "Kids these days," Hammond sighed, shaking his head, though not angrily. "It seems you guys at least understand the risks, and I could hardly call myself a man if I do nothing about such an injustice if I have the ability."

    He loaded what he was cooking onto a plate, before moving the order to where Calmin could pass it off to the waiter. On the way back to the group, he reached into a disguised cabinet, pulling out a thin box.

    "This might be of some help," he declared, placing the box on the table and removing the lid. Inside were a set of papers covered in neat marks. Marks that…

    "A map of the waterways?" Fion asked curiously. "Hand drawn too."

    "Indeed," Hammond replied. "Julia and her friend took notes when they went on their adventures down there. But of course, their parents wouldn't be too pleased with them gallivanting about like that, so I kept these here at first, before they no longer needed them."

    "I see…" Emmet mused, "so there is an access door down by the river. Should be pretty out of sight, but we'll have to be a bit careful."

    "The door's gotta be locked, right?" Fion pointed out. "Do you have the key?"

    "There is a key in the box," Hammond replied, "but it has been a long time since the two ladies went down there, so it is possible that the doors or locks have been changed."

    "Shouldn't be a problem," Emmet declared. "Are we ready to go, then?"

    Irene and Fion nodded, their resolve steadying as a clear path of action revealed itself.

    "Best stay out of sight as long as you can," Hammond suggested. "Take the service door out into the alley, and you should probably avoid going back to your hotel, there's sure to be soldiers poking around there."

    The door to the kitchen opened and Calmin's voice came through the doorway. "Hey boss! Some soldiers just came in and want to ask some questions!"

    Hammond frowned, before nodding to the students. "That's your cue then." He turned, standing between them and the service door to block line of sight. "I'm coming, Calmin. What are they asking about?"

    The chef exited the kitchen, closing the door behind him, after which the three students slunk out the side door, taking the maps and the old key with them.

    Irene considered herself quite light on her feet, but she didn't have that much experience sneaking about, but her classmates certainly seemed to.

    Fion and Emmet moved almost silently through the alley until they walked back out onto the street, and while Irene felt her nerves winding her body into tense knots, the other two strolled down the road towards the river as if they were on a leisurely walk.

    It made sense, as it would be very difficult to avoid being seen entirely when it was midday, but that didn't make it any less nerve wracking.

    Fortunately, no one stopped them, not even the few soldiers on patrol through the city, and after a few tense minutes, they ducked down to the river pathway and out of sight of most of the city.

    Following the map, they made their way to an access door, Fion discretely keeping an eye on their surroundings, while Irene slowed her breath, both to calm herself and to better reach out with her senses, finding no one else in the vicinity.

    Emmet glanced between the lock on the door and the old key, before shaking his head. "Not the right key."

    "So what do we do?" Irene asked, keeping her voice low.

    "Breach?" Fion suggested, though he didn't seem to like the idea.

    "Too loud," Emmet dismissed, crouching down so he was eye level with the lock. "Let me try something."

    He placed his hand over it, whispering something under his breath. "Resera."

    Irene felt something strange wash over her senses, and she shared a perplexed glance with Fion, their confusion only growing as they heard a click of a lock turning.

    Emmet stood up, rapping his knuckles lightly on the door, before whispering something else. "Mellon."

    The door swung open silently on its own as the purple haired man stepped out of the way, and his classmates could only stare at him in bewilderment.

    "What…was that?" Fion asked cautiously.

    "Just a little magic trick," Emmet shrugged, as if he had not just inexplicably unlocked a door by talking to it.

    "I…" Irene stopped herself. She was curious about just what exactly Emmet had done, but that could wait. "Never mind, we need to move."

    Her classmates nodded, though Fion gave Emmet a look that suggested his curiosity was far from sated.

    The three of them entered the waterways, and Irene had to suppress a gag at the smell. It was probably not as bad as it could have been, but the rank air still was not particularly pleasant.

    The door swung shut quietly behind them and Emmet locked it to cover their tracks, while Fion slunk ahead a short ways, glancing along the pathways. "Looks like we got plenty of dromes," he announced. "Kinda expected, but they'll be a pain to deal with without arts."

    "I would wager they would be rather resistant to water and fire, if not outright immune," Emmet added. "Which will not be a major problem, as I have lightning."

    Irene closed her eyes, reaching out with her senses. This place was old, but still in good shape, and yet, there were monsters all over the place. "It seems we will have to fight our way through a lot of them," she sighed.

    "Didn't expect it would be easy," Emmet snorted, checking the map. "Looks like we'll have to open that gate somehow, there should be a mechanism somewhere."

    "Dunno why they even have those," Fion grunted. "But I think I see it." He pointed at what looked like a set of chains on a crank wheel in the distance.

    "Then we know where to go," Irene said, drawing her weapons and moving forward.

    While the monsters were numerous, they proved unable to hinder them much, especially since Emmet was throwing wind arts out left and right, blasting apart the slow dromes before they could act, leaving the less resistant enemies for Fion and Irene to cut apart.

    "Might wanna cool it with those," Fion suggested. "Otherwise you'll run out of charge too fast."

    "I'll be fine," Emmet waved off, "and time is of the essence."

    Irene wasn't sure if he was being sincere, but he wasn't showing any signs of strain, so they pressed on, opening the gate using the mechanism, and following the map in what they hoped was the direction of the gatehouse.

    Being underground, it was rather hard for Irene to keep her directions straight, but Emmet seemed to have no problem, even though he was looking at the map half the time.

    As they came to a fork in the path, they paused–

    "Someone's coming!" Fion hissed.

    The three of them tensed, readying their weapons as someone slid down a ladder–

    "Oh, fancy seeing you here," Julia greeted drily as she turned to face them, running one hand down her dress to smooth it out–

    "Wait, what are you wearing?!" Irene exclaimed.
    AN. Well, it turns out editing 7k words takes a lot less time than editing 14k words. I should have known this, but apparently it didn't register. Anyways, things have gone fairly similar to the original game, except Toval is going to have a bit of a rough day when Sara realizes he lost track of the students. Also...I think this chapter has the first sign of Emmet's dere side...so there's that.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • 12. Seeds of Defiance
  • Threadmarks
    • Seeds of Defiance​

    "I am wearing clothes," Julia declared shamelessly, resting her rapier hand against her cocked hip and flipping her hair with her free hand.

    Fion whistled appreciatively. "You know what they say, if you've got it, flaunt it."

    "Fion!" Irene squeaked indignantly.

    "Less is more," Emmet remarked drily, rolling his eyes.

    "Emmet!"

    Now that the surprise was wearing off, Irene was probably overreacting, as while Julia's dress was sleeveless, cut quite low, and a bit short on the hem, it wasn't outright scandalous for a more informal occasion, though it clashed a bit with the knee high boots.

    "Those are our names, yes," Emmet returned blandly.

    "Come now, Irene, don't be such a prude," Julia cajoled with a laugh. "Lady Albarea put a lot of thought into getting me this dress. For her at least."

    "I…what?" Irene stuttered. 'That can't be appropriate for a formal introduction, can it?!' "Why are you wearing it now?! That can't be fit for running through sewers, your dress will be ruined!"

    Julia shrugged. "The waterways are actually fairly clean, and if it gets too bad it'll be easy to get rid of."

    "Julia!"

    "What? It's nothing you haven't seen before."

    "Juliaaa!"

    "Is this what they call a rebellious streak?" Fion wondered.

    "Yes." Emmet nodded.

    "See, these two get it!" Julia chuckled, before her face hardened. "More seriously, I just didn't have time to change. I assume you are all here for Regnitz too?"

    "Yes…wait, Julia!" Irene exclaimed indignantly. "Did you sneak out of a matchmaking meeting?!"

    Her friend winced and waved her free hand in a so-so gesture. "Yes and no."

    Two hours ago

    Julia stifled the urge to sigh as Annika put the finishing touches to her hair. With the sudden schedule change they had decided not to try anything too complicated, settling for a neat updo. Men didn't usually pay that much attention to hair unless it looked particularly unusual anyways.

    "You should not worry, my lady," Annika offered in a reassuring tone, "you look elegant and beautiful, as always."

    "Like when I was thrown into Lake Ebel?" Julia retorted drily, giving her maid a wry smile in the mirror she was sitting in front. "I certainly do not remember being either of those when that happened.

    "Need I remind you that you made quite a few lasting friendships shortly after that, my lady?" Annika pointed out, "so you must have been presentable enough." With a few deft movements, she finished fixing her charge's hair in place. "There we go, all done here."

    "Thank you, Annika. Apologies for making you rush."

    "That's hardly your fault, Julia," the matronly woman sighed, patting the young woman on the shoulder. "This was all a little sudden."

    "Speaking of that, do you know anything about this Rogar Ortenburg?" Julia asked. "Father seemed rather uninterested in telling me anything about him."

    "Well," Annika began after a brief 'tsk' of disappointment, "he is the son of Count Ortenburg, who, as you know, rules over the southeastern part of Kreuzen province. From what I have heard, he is a respectable young man, and quite humble, for his station at least."

    "That doesn't sound too bad, assuming the rumors are true," Julia mused. "Potentially better than most candidates, actually."

    "If it is any consolation, Lord Rogar seemed rather taken aback by this situation as well," Annika continued. "I heard from Saffron that she saw him staying after mass at the Cathedral to pray, looking very pensive."

    "Well he reveres Aidios then, it seems," Julia remarked, standing up to get a better look at herself in the mirror.

    The dress her stepmother had insisted she wear looked…good, in some respects, accentuating her form and highlighting some of her more charming features (Julia would allow herself a touch of vanity in this circumstance), but it seemed more appropriate for a late night party than meeting a theoretical husband.

    "I have heard that he is quite pious," Annika added, giving her charge her own once over. "Which…well…it makes me curious just what Lady Albarea was thinking when she offered her…assistance in this matter."

    "Are you suggesting I should have worn a habit, or something of the sort?" Julia joked, prompting her maid to flick her chidingly in the ear.

    "Do not not make light of such things," Annika huffed, shaking her head in exasperation. "Still, I think this dress might be a bit…daring for an Ortenburg. I heard they are a bit more conservative than most. I fear it may give the wrong impression."

    "Well, Lady Albarea might not be aware of that," Julia suggested sarcastically. "Maybe she just thought it looked good, she can never see enough of me, after all."

    Annika pursed her lips, but said nothing. Despite not voicing it aloud, her face showed that she also held a dim view of Lady Albarea's machinations.

    "Regardless, you look beautiful, Lady Julia," Annika assured her. It helped more than Julia would like to admit.

    There was a knock on the door, probably someone here to inform them that Ortenburg had arrived.

    Julia took a deep breath to steady herself. She was cautiously optimistic that this farce would go about as pleasantly as it could, but it was never good to get her hopes up.

    A rather stiff, but polite greeting later, during which her guest sent suspicious glances at the numerous soldiers supervising the meeting, Julia found herself alone with Rogar Ortenburg, sitting across a table from him and sipping daintily on the tea Annika prepared.

    Of course they weren't truly alone, with the soldiers outside and Annika in the adjacent room listening in for any funny business, but apparently they were private enough her fake suitor felt comfortable going into detail about the problems his family's territory was facing.

    Much of their woes had to do with there being no railroad line going through that part of the province and the increase in taxes greatly reducing the amount of merchants willing to move goods into the rural county, which Rogar feared would create a vicious cycle as the lessened economic activity would shrink their budget, thus making it harder to maintain the roads they depended on for external access.

    His family's territory had always been remote, lacking access to the Sommerstern river that connected the slightly less remote Legram and Rothbart to the rest of Kreuzen. This river had also been the major reason that the rail line terminated at Lake Ebel, as it was determined that extending the line further was not worth the cost due to the already existing means of travel. The lesser population density and economic power in that area of the province also played a role.

    The Ortenburgs had objected to being left out, citing their long and faithful service to the Albarea family, and the Viscount of Legram and Count of Rothbart at the time had supported their neighbor, but were also ignored.

    Julia nodded, finding herself listening quite intently, as Rogar appeared to be taking the troubles of his family's territory a bit personally, and must have spoken with a variety of his family's subjects to be able to describe them in this detail.

    It was not a strictly inappropriate topic for a meeting such as this, but it was a fairly unorthodox attempt at wooing, though Julia was quite certain that the man was simply nervous, and had defaulted to covering the talking points he had likely prepared to speak with the duke or Rufus about. Despite her family name, Julia did not have the influence to do anything meaningful about these issues, and it was not like she would ever be in charge of the province herself.

    "I understand that a rail line would not make the problems we are having go away, but if the current trends continue, then the amount of taxes we collect will decrease and–" Rogar paused, his face slowly turning red as he realized he had been rambling for some time. "I apologize, Lady Julia. I…have wandered off in thought."

    Ironically enough, Julia actually felt this was a bit charming, as for once, her suitor wasn't talking about himself or how influential and important his family was.

    "There is no need to apologize," she returned, setting down her tea cup and giving him a polite, though genuine smile. "I am impressed that you care so deeply for your home, though I must confess that there is not much that telling me these things can accomplish."

    "Ahem…that is very gracious of you," Rogar nodded, looking down at his tea. "But I must apologize for boring you."

    So far, he had managed to keep his eyes on her face, or out the window of the tea room, which was quite impressive given how off balance the cut of her dress had made him at first.

    "You have not bored me, Lord Rogar," Julia objected. "It was interesting to hear more personal accounts of a topic I only had surface knowledge of previously, though I do admit a part of me started to wonder if you were planning on overthrowing my father and installing me in his place in return for extending the railway."

    "I…what?!" Rogar sputtered. "Lady Julia, I would never do that! That is against the principles of nobility!"

    "It was a jest," Julia chuckled, "though tell me truthfully, was that speech planned for my father's ears rather than mine?"

    Rogar paused, his face calm, but clearly considering his options. "That was indeed part of my purpose in visiting Bareahard," he admitted, "and I had thought I would be meeting with him today, but the gracious duke offered to arrange a meeting between us, which is a great honor I do not feel worthy of, but refusing would have been a grave offense to you and your family."

    Julia nodded gracefully, but internally, she frowned. Perhaps it was their relative isolation from the rest of the Empire, but Rogar did not seem to have realized the duke's manipulations for what they were. He probably had promised Rogar a meeting at this time, but used her to get out of it.

    Typical.

    "That is very flattering of you to say," she replied demurely, "so I will forgive you for the recycling of conversation topics, as it appears my father did not give you adequate time to prepare, if you will forgive my own rushed appearance."

    Rogar blinked. "Err…if this is what you look like when rushed, you must rival the Empress herself when prepared." He startled, shaking his head. "Please forgive me, that was too forward of me."

    "I appreciate the flattery, but I am nowhere near that impressive," Julia laughed, feeling a bit gratified by what seemed to be a genuine, if a bit over the top compliment.

    "Well…that aside, thank you for listening to the problems of our county," Rogar continued sheepishly. "I understand it was likely uninteresting and of little use to you–"

    "Now, now," Julia interrupted with a coy smile, "while I lack the power to offer any of the assistance you likely were interested in, that does not mean it was uninteresting to learn more about. And in regards to how much use this information would be…well, that quite depends on the results of this meeting, no?"

    Rogar blinked, looking even more flustered. "I…suppose that is true…but I still feel I should apologize for my lack of grace. This was all rather sudden."

    "I forgave you the first time, Rogar," Julia huffed, "and while I doubt my father plans on finalizing any arrangements for me anytime soon, there is no reason we cannot be friendly. How about you take a moment and get your thoughts in order?"

    Rogar nodded gratefully, taking a deep breath and a sip of tea to sort to steady himself, relieved that he hadn't completely made a mess of the encounter.

    Perhaps ironically, he was actually doing fairly well in Julia's eyes. It was evident that he took his duties seriously, and he indeed seemed more humble than his family's title would suggest. Perhaps that was simply understanding how little influence he had outside his family's territory, but that already made him more self aware than many others.

    He wouldn't be her first choice for a husband, not that she had made a list or anything, but he seemed like someone who'd she be able to get along with.

    Still, it was a bit strange for her father and stepmother to be treating him so flippantly. While the Ortenburgs were less renowned and influential than the other high ranking noble families in Kreuzen's southeast corner, they had been very dependable subjects for generations, so it was a bit odd that the duke would not even bother to entertain their heir.

    True, her father quite disliked the pushback against his higher taxes, and sadly, Rogar's request for an exemption was politically quite easy to deny, since he didn't have much to offer that the duke cared about–perhaps he was just using her to distract the young noble so he could avoid directly denying him…

    No, now that she had time herself to think, Julia was fairly sure that the rapid shift in schedule had to do with something else. But what could have prompted such a sudden change? What had to be done now and could not wait until evening…

    Surely Father would not…no, that would be foolish, even for him.

    Eventually, Rogar recovered his composure and the two of them were able to more properly get to know each other, and he continued to prove himself pleasant enough company. He was attentive and polite, and despite being noticeably taken aback by her current attire, he managed not to stare.

    He also seemed to have caught on that this was unlikely to be anything meaningful, which actually made him relax a bit. Julia wasn't confident that he took no offense, but he seemed to be understanding enough not to hold something she wasn't responsible for against her.

    With the two of them both being aware that the other was getting yanked around by the duke too, they went to chat about frivolous things, like the view of the eastern mountains from Ortenburg or the antics of St. Astraia students, something Rogar listened to with disbelief and morbid fascination.

    Their conversation went on this way for a while, the two of them in the awkward situation where both knew the meeting was largely pointless, but neither was actually bothered by the other enough to end it prematurely, and they honestly actually got along rather well.

    All in all, it wasn't the worst thing, but they were still expected to interact all the way up through dinner.

    Julia paused as something caught her eye when she glanced out the window, which had a commanding view towards the entrance to the manor, and the guardhouse in the distance.

    "Is something the matter, Lady Julia?" Rogar asked.

    "I am uncertain," Julia replied. "The Provincial Army just does not usually move its armored cars around here."

    "Has something happened then?" Rogar wondered, standing and going to the window. "Wait, are they dragging a girl through the streets?!" He gasped. "What on earth?!"

    Julia started, springing up and joining her suitor at the window, her eyes widening as they zeroed in on the sight.

    "There is no way Regnitz did anything to warrant such a response," she sputtered.

    "Regnitz? As in the Imperial Governor?" Rogar asked.

    "Yes, that was his daughter," Julia answered. "As hostile to nobles as the average reformist, but too law-abiding to do anything that would justify this."

    "It seems an unnecessary amount of force," Rogar observed uncertainly. "Are you certain she did nothing to warrant that?"

    "Positively so," Julia declared. "We are in the same class, and were in the city on a field study. She did nothing yesterday that could warrant this…"

    "You were on a field study?!" Rogar exclaimed. "Then I must apologize for distracting from your schooling!"

    "Blame the duke for that one," Julia dismissed distractedly, a number of things coming together unpleasantly in her head.

    "Blame the duke…" Rogar murmured. "Surely he would not be so brazen…"

    Oh!

    "Damn! He really had no intention of this going anywhere!" Julia hissed under her breath. "He must have arranged this so I could not intervene!"

    "Are you certain?" Rogar asked seriously. "Would he do such a shameful thing?"

    "He would," Julia affirmed, more candidly than she probably should have, but she was too busy restraining her anger to care.

    "Is that why there are an unusual number of guards around your rooms?" her fake suitor asked. "I had thought your father was slightly paranoid about your safety, but now…"

    "They are here to keep me here," Julia sighed. "Not that I would run out on you under normal circumstances, you have been more than pleasant so far."

    "…If you can stop this injustice, you should go," Rogar declared after a moment. "I will not be an accessory to this outrage."

    Julia blinked, staring at the man next to her in surprise. "Really?"

    Rogar frowned. "What do you mean? Can you not do something about it?"

    "I…might be able to," Julia replied slowly. "I'm just a bit surprised that you are fine with me ditching you. I'll have to slip the guards too."

    "We both know this meeting was a sham, as lovely as it was," Rogar sighed. "As for the guards, I will distract them."

    Julia quirked an eyebrow at him. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

    "Spill my tea on myself and request they show me to the washroom," he replied. "Maybe ask pointless questions about soap. Unfortunately I don't believe I can keep them occupied for long."

    "It will have to do," Julia decided. "No time to get to my room to change."

    "But–!" Rogar glanced down at her dress before sheepishly averting his eyes. "Is that…appropriate for the situation?"

    "Well, Lady Albarea thought it was," Julia shrugged. "Perhaps to make doubly sure I could not interfere with the stunt the duke is pulling."

    Rogar's face darkened, and Julia could see genuine anger in his eyes. "Just how much time did you have to prepare?"

    "I had about two hours' notice."

    "I see…" Rogar muttered. "I will ensure you have the time you need."

    He walked back to the table and took his seat again, raising his cup of tea up as if to drink, before twitching his hand and splashing it all over the front of his shirt.

    "Oh dear! Let me help you with that!" Julia cried, rushing over and pressing a towelette against Rogar's shirt.

    "There is no need to trouble yourself, Lady Julia," Rogar protested, flustered by her sudden proximity. "Please excuse me, I will need to use the washroom."

    "Very well then," Julia replied, before leaning closer until her lips were by his ear. "You are the best fake suitor I've ever had," she whispered, smirking slightly as he turned beat red.

    Rogar stood up and hurried out of the room, and Julia could hear him talking with the soldiers, who seemed to be close to laughing at him.

    Truly, she owed him one. But there was no time.

    She slipped out of her heels and strode quietly but purposefully over to the window, sliding it open and stepping out the ledge, closing the window behind her before letting herself down to the ground.

    Sneaking around the manor, she collected her weapon and ARCUS unit, which she discreetly had Annika move into a secure spot for "cleaning", before sliding into the boots she'd stashed there previously.

    Ah, how nostalgic.

    "How adventurous of you," Emmet snorted. "Let's get going then." He turned to walk in the other direction.

    "Wait!" Irene cried, still a bit flustered by the situation. "Um…would you like my jacket?"

    "No need for that, Irene," Julia chuckled, "I'm fine–"

    "Would it actually fit right?" Fion wondered, glancing between the two girls.

    'H-hey!'

    "Are we going to get Regnitz or not?" Emmet grumbled.

    Irene huffed in irritation. "Julia, Emmet, do you know what this means?" Her two classmates gave her a look. "Now is your turn to link together."

    "Fine," Emmet sighed. "What are we waiting for?"

    Julia rolled her eyes, but made no protest.

    "Wait…" Fion started. "Do you even have your ARCUS? I don't see any pockets–"

    With an annoyed huff, Julia reached down the front of her dress and pulled her ARCUS out– 'Whaaa?!'

    "Oh, guess it would fit there," Fion remarked.

    'Fion!'

    "Are you ready for the mechanical heart to heart?" Emmet drawled, unfazed.

    'Stop acting like this is normal!'

    Julia narrowed her eyes at him, pouting slightly. "You're no fun, Emmet."

    "Are we going to get linked or not?"

    The two of them formed a link, and it held surprisingly strong.

    The monsters hadn't slowed them down too much before, but with Julia added to the group, they posed an almost negligible risk.

    Emmet and Julia synced better than expected, clearing out groups of monsters with blasts of arts, cycling through the elements to exploit weaknesses and avoid resistance, while Irene and Fion's speed and linked coordination allowed them to throw the foes they encountered off balance long enough for their classmates to cast their arts.

    Julia's familiarity with the waterways also showed, leading them quickly through to the necessary gate controls, hastening their pace by a significant margin.

    "These might be a pain getting back through," Emmet observed as they waited for another gate to open. "Will they close automatically after a certain amount of time?"

    "These gates are old, predating orbal technology," Julia replied, giving her link partner a bemused look. "So they should stay open until the maintenance people find the courage to come back down here, or the monsters get properly cleared out. What made you think they would be able to close on their own?"

    "Just being careful," Emmet lied shamelessly, checking over the map. "Looks like we are almost there."

    "Yes, there should be a door just around this corner…" Julia trailed off as they reached the end of the hallway. "Damn, it looks like they changed the door."

    The door barring their way looked to be solid steel, and there didn't look to have any keyhole on this side.

    'There's no way I can cut through that.'

    "Can you do the door talking thing to this one, Emmet?" Fion asked.

    Emmet frowned. "I don't think so. This one isn't looking friendly."

    "…What?" Julia wondered flatly, her gaze flicking inquisitively to Irene, who simply smiled awkwardly.

    "I could try burning through it," Emmet suggested.

    "That'd take too long," Fion pointed out. "Step back, I'll breach it."

    "I am not trusting one of Elisha's bombs in an enclosed space that I am also in," Emmet drawled skeptically.

    "Not one of his," Fion shot back. "Shaped charge, we'll be fine."

    'How does he have something like that…?'

    "We don't have much time," Julia pointed out. "If it works, do it."

    Fion saluted causally, pulling a few small devices out from his pack and setting them up around the doorframe. The rest of the group backed away as he activated them. He rapped his knuckles on the door and hopped back quickly.

    There was a loud bang and a burst of fire–

    Glass shattered and Mama screamed.

    Heat and force washed over her and a masked figure kicked down the door.

    "Knock, knock!"

    But she wasn't small anymore, and she had her sword–

    "Irene!"

    Fion backed away from her, hands raised placating.

    "What corps?!"

    "Huh?"

    "Irene, what's gotten into you?!"

    "Which corps were you a part of?!"

    The silver haired jaeger flinched, and their combat link wavered and shattered.

    "…Zephyr."

    "The dead bird…" Irene growled. It wasn't them. "I see."

    "Irene, put the sword down!" Julia cried, her voice filled with shock and concern.

    Belatedly, Irene realized she had her katana pointed at Fion's throat.

    "It wasn't you," she sighed, lowering her weapon. "Or your corps."

    Fion nodded, clearly unsure what to say, a glimmer of hurt in his eyes that twisted Irene's heart into a dark, angry pulse.

    'How dare he?!'

    "You can kill each other later," Emmet snapped, rushing forwards up the stairs ahead. "They'd have to be either stupid, deaf or both to not have heard that."

    "R-right. Regnitz," Julia reminded them, but her worried eyes did not leave Irene.

    Fion practically bolted up the stairs after Emmet, and Irene followed, clenching her teeth as she fought down the dark red creeping into her vision.

    'Not. Now!'

    They emerged into a hallway lined with cells, though they seemed to be empty save for one, from which came the sound of sobbing.

    "Gehenna's Bells," Emmet muttered, checking over the lock to Masha's cell. "I think she's in shock."

    Irene wasn't a doctor, but with how the green haired girl was curled in on herself in the corner of her cell, eyes staring sightlessly ahead as she rocked herself, that was probably right.

    "What in Aidios' name?" Julia gasped, horror spreading on her face. "What did they do to her?!"

    "Don't see any injuries," Fion observed quietly, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other.

    Thump!

    Irene slammed her eyes shut, clenching her jaw.

    "Resera!"

    Her blood was boiling.

    The lock clicked and Emmet swung the door open.

    Her heart pounded like a drum in her ears.

    "What was that?!" Masha sputtered, her voice tinging into hysteria.

    Like a beat. Calling her to dance.

    "Get away from me!" Masha shrieked, somehow shrinking back further into her corner.

    'No! No! Not again!'

    "I don't think she's getting out of here on her own power," Emmet noted, looking at a loss.

    "Ah, hell," Julia cursed, stepping into the cell and crouching down in front of their panicked classmate. "Regnitz! Can you hear me?"

    "No! Leave me alone!"

    "Masha!" Julia called. "Come on, we'll get you out of here."

    "Lies! You always lie!" Masha snapped.

    "I'm not lying," Julia murmured softly, reaching out slowly, like she was trying to calm a skittish horse. "Let's go, we don't have much time." She gently rested her hand on Masha's shoulder, trying to ground her.

    "Why didn't you come back?" Masha whispered, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth.

    The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and Irene's eyes snapped open.

    "Someone's coming!"

    "We need to go, Masha!" Julia urged.

    "Stop right there–!"

    "Lady Julia?!"

    Two soldiers rounded the corner, weapons at the ready, but the sight that greeted them made them pause for a second–

    "Dormite! Obliviscimini!"

    Irene's skin crawled as Emmet pulled down his glasses and snarled at the guards, his voice carrying a strange, unwavering timbre.

    The two soldiers collapsed like puppets with cut strings.

    At the same time, Masha let out a breath and slumped over.

    "What the hell?!" Julia gasped, her head snapping back to Emmet.

    "They're asleep, but not for long," he grunted, adjusting his glasses and stepping into the cell, crouching down to sling Masha over his shoulder. "We don't have time."

    "That was fucking weird," Fion whispered, eyes wide in uncertainty.

    "Language!" Irene growled, her voice sounding…wrong.

    "What in Aidios' name is going on?!" Julia shrieked, before she took a deep breath, shaking her head furiously. "Y-you're right, let's go."

    They did, rushing away from the sound of commotion from further into the guardhouse, but in a sudden moment, much of their coordination vanished as their links frayed.

    It was fortunate that the monsters had learned to fear them, fleeing from their approach as their feet pounded through the waterways.

    Whatever Emmet did had bought them some time, but even the rather disappointing Provincial Army noticed their intrusion, and Irene sensed enemies in hot pursuit.

    Everyone in their group was quick on their feet, and Emmet seemed to be barely slowed by carrying Masha, but their pursuers were faster still.

    "They're closing!" Irene barked.

    "Why the fuck do they have Kazakh Dovens?!" Fion cursed, glancing back over his shoulder.

    'Jaeger hounds…The Provincial Army is using jaeger hounds!'

    Irene spun around, skidding to a stop. "They must die!"

    Two armored hounds bounded into view, and Irene felt a slight sliver of fear as she realized how large they were–

    Thump!

    The massive hounds rushed towards her.

    "Irene! What are you doing?!"

    Thump!

    She was smaller, yes.

    Thump!

    But she had her own teeth, and they were just as sharp!

    Thump!

    The hounds howled as they closed, and Irene screamed right back, launching herself forward.

    Thump! Thump!

    One of them leapt up, bounding across a water channel to cut off the rest of the group, the other pounced right at her–

    Irene ducked, crouching below it snapping jaws and rending claws, her swords flashing out and cutting through the beast's hind legs like a hot knife through butter.

    Thump! Thump! Thump!

    The hound's roar turned suddenly in a screaming yelp of pain–

    "Forzare!"

    Irene spun around again, sliding low to the floor to maintain her balance like she was skating on ice, a sharp smile pulling at her face as the wounded beast tumbled into a helpless heap, bereft of its hind legs and belly up.

    Idly, she spotted the other dog splashing into the water, limbs flailing as if hurled by an unseen force.

    Irene pounced, slamming her weapons into the weak armor segment at the downed dog's neck, twisting her body in a violent helix and gutting it open end to end, her vision going red with satisfaction–

    "Fulminas!"

    A thunderous crack and a flash of light slammed through the waterway along with the cry of a thousand screaming birds.

    When her vision cleared, Irene saw the other dog thrashing violently in the water, sudden steam obscuring its scorched body as it sank below the surface.

    Emmet stood on the edge of the walkway, panting heavily, signs of fatigue showing on his face for the first time Irene could remember.

    Julia stood over Masha's slumped form where Emmet must have dumped her, eyes wide and trembling in shock for some reason.

    Fion stared at Irene, his body tense as if he was ready to bolt, but he did not, as if held in place by her gaze.

    "More of them?!" Julia yelled, and Irene whirled around to see a pack of smaller hounds bounding after them.

    "Don't just stand there!" Emmet snapped, shaking off his clear fatigue and moving towards the new enemies. "No outrunning hounds."

    Despite her clear fear, Julia collected herself, readying her ARCUS.

    Emmet took a stance next to Irene. "Think we can kill them all?" He asked drily.

    "Yes," Irene growled, licking her lips.

    "Heh." Emmet chuckled, and their ARCUS units glowed slightly as they formed a link.

    Irene's narrowed vision widened slightly and she saw the paths the hounds were taking like phantom images running ahead.

    A burst of gunfire flashed in from the side as Fion peppered the incoming beasts, forcing some of them to redirect their movements, but not putting any of them down.

    The pack closed in on them, and Irene snarled.

    Inexplicably, the dogs hesitated, and that was their doom.

    The next instant, she was in their midst, her blades cutting through armor and flesh in a bloody whirl of steel.

    Emmet impaled a leaping dog on his staff as if it was a spear, his fatigue somehow diminishing as the beast twitched and died.

    Still, they were now surrounded–

    Ice formed all around in a burst of light and arts, fractal crystals chilling and cutting into the dogs as a chaotic kaleidoscope of reflections sent them into confusion, some jumping headfirst into jagged ice while others even leapt at each other.

    Irene herself had some trouble keeping track of what was real, but she smelled blood, so her attacks struck true.

    Bright light bloomed–probably a flashbang–reflected and scattered by the ice in a riot of color–blinding her and filling her ears with ringing sounds.

    That would not stop her.

    Following her nose, she attacked again, grinning as her sword sunk into screaming flesh.

    Irene blinked rapidly as her vision cleared and some of her hearing returned. Her gaze snapped left and right rapidly, and to her disappointment, Emmet had just skewered the last dog, all signs of fatigue inexplicably gone.

    Wait…

    'Why am I disappointed they are all dead?'

    "I…I don't think I can keep going much longer," Julia gasped, her legs collapsing under her in exhaustion.

    "She's still out," Fion observed, checking over Masha, who somehow remained asleep despite the cacophony of battle.

    Which did not seem to be over quite yet.

    Irene cocked her head as she heard the pounding of boots. "We took too long," she sighed.

    A group of Provincial Army soldiers rushed around a corner, stopping suddenly at the sight in front of them.

    "More dogs?" Irene huffed, glaring at the cowards in front of them.

    "Lady Julia?!" a familiar voice cried, and Irene belatedly recognized Lieutenant Edelbeck among the group. She looked different with her officer hat, but the greatsword should have been a clear indicator.

    "W-what the hell happened to the hounds?" One of the soldiers stammered, his rifle trembling in his hands and pointed at the students.

    "Keep it together, you useless ingrate!" Edelbeck snarled, smacking the rifle barrel down with the flat of her sword. "Are you insane?"

    "Look what they did to the dogs!"

    "About that," Julia coughed, her voice a bit hoarse as she rose to her feet, doing her best to appear dignified despite her clear exhaustion. "I would like to know just what exactly your plan was."

    "Have the hounds cornered the intruders, Lieutenant?" A smug voice sounded from further down the hallway.

    Edelbeck glared back the way she came. "Come and take a look, sir," she spat.

    "Hah! I told you they would make short work of–What in the world?!" A provincial army officer turned the corner, before freezing in shock.

    'He was the one who oversaw Masha's arrest.' Irene's eyes narrowed, and her lip curled in distaste, baring her teeth.

    A nudge from Emmet across their link held her back from acting, but her grip tightened on her weapons.

    "It appears your jaeger-loaned attack dogs were all bark and no bite, sir," Lieutenant Edelbeck sneered.

    "What is the meaning of this–Lady Julia?! What are you doing here?!" the officer sputtered, eyes flicking frantically back and forth before focusing on the young Albarea.

    "Well, it turns out it was quite a good thing our Lady has such dangerous friends," Lieutenant Edelbeck remarked sweetly, "otherwise you siccing dogs on a daughter of House Albarea could well have been disastrous, sir."

    "Silence!" the officer barked. "Know your place, lieutenant!"

    "The dog knows who holds his leash," Irene chuckled darkly, idly flicking blood off her sword.

    A wave of surprised interest flowed through her link from Emmet. 'Wait, where did that come from?'

    "Shut up!" the pack leader snapped. "What did you think you were doing?!"

    "A school assignment," Emmet shot back with a straight face.

    "What?!"

    "No man left behind," Fion added. "When convenient," he added under his breath.

    "Quite so," Julia agreed. "We were tasked with dealing with a variety of monsters on our field study, and lo and behold–" she raised her hands, gesturing to the remains of the jaeger hounds– "there turned out to be an infestation in the waterways we were obligated to clear out."

    "Not cleared out yet," Irene denied, glaring at the officer and licking her chapped lips.

    "T-that–That's ridiculous!" the officer sputtered, trying to cover for his fear. "Men! Arrest the intruders!"

    "Are you insane, sir?" one of the soldiers blurted out. "We can't arrest–"

    "Silence!" the two-legged dog yowled. "Not even Lady Julia has the right to intrude in a military installation, let alone free a suspect in our custody in direct opposition to the will of His Grace the Duke!"

    "Oh, so now you care about rights," Emmet snorted.

    "Who do you think you are?!" the man-dog yelped. "No matter, arrest them all! Lady Julia included!" The soldiers hesitated, but still moved to surround the students.

    "Wha…what's going on?" Masha grumbled, waking up at a very inconvenient time.

    "Sorry Regnitz," Julia sighed, "looks like we couldn't get you out after all."

    Emmet glared at the soldier leveling a rifle at him, the young man in uniform trembling visibly at the intensity.

    "What? Where?!" Masha cried, her head swiveling around in panic. "No, no, no!"

    Irene leveled a disappointed look at Lieutenant Edelbeck, who, despite clearly having reservations about the situations, did not offer any further resistance. "Sir Lawrence would be disappointed," she spat, and the older woman flinched.

    "Shut up, girl!" the captain(?) snapped. "How dare you claim to speak for your betters?!"

    "How dare you?" Emmet drawled, giving the man a mocking smile.

    "Wha-?!" the officer gawped, shocked by the blatant and shameless disrespect.

    "A good question," a cool voice called out from down the path.

    "No way," Julia murmured, head snapping towards the newcomer.

    "Lord Rufus?!" the belligerent officer cried.

    "What?!" Masha squeaked.

    "Lord Rufus!" Lieutenant Edelbeck greeted, giving the Albarea heir a neat bow. "It is good to see you, sir."

    Irene turned, spotting Julia's brother approaching the scene with steady steps, though his eyes were hard over his genial smile.

    Beside and behind him was another blond man, though his hair was cut a lot shorter, and by his casual and more practical choice of clothes, he was probably not a noble and definitely not a servant.

    Next to the other man was–

    'Instructor Valestein?!'

    "Weren't you in the capital, brother?" Julia asked, sagging in relief.

    "I am pleased to see you as well, Lady Edelbeck," Rufus greeted, before coming to a stop a short distance away. "As for your question, sweet sister, I was indeed in the capital, but when I received a call at noon today, I returned by airship as fast as I could…along with your instructor." He gestured behind him.

    "Oh geez," Instructor Valestein muttered, eyes flicking over the causeway littered with hound carcasses…and copious amounts of blood and gore. "That's a lotta dead dogs. Good work guys!"

    "What the heck are you teaching these kids, Sara?" the other blond man wondered, giving the scene a concerned look.

    "Wait! Zero Artisan Toval Randonneur?!" Julia gasped, suddenly filled with energy again.

    'Oh right, Julia found him quite impressive.'

    "That's me, alright," the blond bracer chuckled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Can't say I expected for you to recognize me though."

    "I am a big fan of your work," Julia chirped, before she blinked, and her face became more serious. "Though may I ask why a B rank bracer is here, of all places?"

    "Oi! How come you get all the respect?!" Instructor Valestein grumbled.

    "Well…" Mister Randonneur began, "I happened to be in the city to deal with some of the monster problems in the waterways–thanks for helping with that by the way–and someone's butler called me over and told me about what happened–"

    "And Mister Randonneur conveniently happened to meet me near the airport," Lord Rufus interrupted. "Apparently, Lord Ortenburg observed how you handled the arrest of Miss Regnitz. Did you truly drag her through the streets, Captain?" He gave the officer a hard, disappointed stare.

    "Well…I did what His Grace the Duke ordered me to do!" the captain sputtered.

    "And that required an armored car and a whole squad of soldiers?" Rufus inquired blandly.

    "Err…she was resisting arrest!"

    "If I may, Lord Rufus?" Lieutenant Edelbeck chimed in, continuing when the blond man gave her a nod. "Miss Regnitz was nearly catatonic when they brought her in–"

    "You dragged a barely conscious girl through half the city?" Rufus demanded. "Have you no shame?"

    "What?! That's not–!"

    "Enough. I have been briefed on the situation," the older Albarea dismissed. "I will handle the matter, and make the necessary apologies. My father has already been informed." He waved his hand to indicate the gathered soldiers. "As for you, return to your posts."

    "But, Lord Rufus–"

    "Or do you wish to heap more disgrace upon my House, Captain?"

    "Of c-course not."

    "Then go."

    "By your leave, Lord Rufus," Lieutenant Edelbeck replied politely, covering for her flustered superior.

    "Second Company! Withdraw!" the captain barked, fleeing with his tail tucked between his legs. His men followed, looking relieved they did not have to deal with the complex situation.

    "Coward," Irene sniffed as the soldiers left.

    "Well, well," Instructor Valestein snorted. "Looks like you have some teeth after all, Irene."

    "Of course I have teeth, Instructor Valestein," Irene replied, tilting her head questioningly. "How would I eat otherwise? Or did you assume I subsisted entirely off alcohol as you do?" 'Wait, where did that come from?'

    "Oi!" their instructor objected, but the two blond men with her chuckled at the thought.

    "She's got a point there, Instructor Valestein," Mister Randonneur teased. "You should work on setting a better example for the youth."

    "Sheesh, why do you all have to call me that?! It makes me feel old!"

    "But you are?" Fion pointed out. Everyone turned to look at him. "What? You're like twice my age."

    "You see what I have to deal with?!" Instructor Valestein cried, throwing up her hands.

    "Your timing is fortuitous," Emmet observed, adjusting his glasses. "I must wonder, did you plan all this beforehand?"

    "Nah," their Instructor denied. "After what happened last month, I did think there might be some trouble, so I asked Toval here to keep an eye out for you guys, and he called me when he saw what happened, after which I phoned the director here."

    Lord Rufus shook his head sadly. "I had suspected my father had plans, but this was far more foolish than my worst expectations." Stepping forward, he crouched next to where Masha was seated on the floor. "I must extend the first apology to you for what my family has tried. Are you hurt?"

    "I…" Masha paused, checking over herself. "I f-feel a bit bruised, but I'm otherwise fine."

    "That is good to hear," Lord Rufus hummed softly. "My soldiers were not too rough, were they?"

    "Aside from dragging me?" Masha snorted. "No, they mostly just left me there, from what I remember, it's a l-little hazy."

    "That is a relief," Lord Rufus sighed, offering a hand up, which Masha took. "Your father told me in no uncertain terms he would be quite cross if I let anything happen to you on my watch."
    "H-he did?" Masha stammered, her face turning red as she scrambled to her feet.

    Irene glanced at Julia, who looked back, a…complicated expression on her face.

    "There are a number of other things we should discuss…" Lord Rufus started, before glancing around, seemingly just quite registering the macabre mess in front of him. "My word, the Provincial Army's hounds were clearly no match for you." He nodded at Instructor Valestein. "You have my thanks for teaching them enough to keep my sweet sister safe."

    "Pretty sure I didn't teach them this," their instructor muttered. "But I'll take the compliment."

    "Perhaps we should move to a more suitable place for discussion," the older Albarea suggested, a slight smile curling at the edges of his mouth as he turned to his sister. "I am most curious how you managed to make such a positive impression on Lord Rogar that he was willing to not only turn a blind eye to your disappearance, but also to offer Mister Randonneur a tidy sum for his assistance."

    "Well, I'm not going to take that money, since I didn't really do anything," Mister Randonneur muttered.

    "Yeah, Toval," Instructor Valestein snipped. "I told you to keep track of my students, and you lost track of them!"

    "You got a pretty sneaky bunch of kids here," the Zero Artisan chuckled, scratching his cheek in embarrassment. "I saw them go into the Sorciere Restaurant and never saw them leave."

    "No comment," Emmet commented.

    Lord Rufus and Instructor Valestein escorted the group back to the Hotel Esmeralda, while Mister Randonneur stayed behind to clear out more of the monsters, to Julia's disappointment, as she wanted to speak with her martial idol, of sorts.

    While the day was not over, it was well into the evening, so it was decided that they would stay the night and return to Trista in the morning.

    After the events they had just dealt with, none of the group felt an urge to leave their hotel, so they ate the (very nice) meal the hotel staff cooked for them, though Julia ended up having dinner with Lord Ortenburg as an apology for running out on him earlier.

    To Irene's surprise, Julia didn't seem too opposed to the idea. 'Perhaps Lord Ortenburg has a chance, then?'

    Even more intriguing, the younger Albarea did not return to the hotel for a good while after the rest of the group finished dinner, which was fairly unusual, given Julia's usual comments about her suitors.

    Either way, this left Irene and Masha alone together in their room to work on their report.

    Something seemed to be bothering the green haired girl, but after the ordeal she had suffered today, Irene wasn't sure how to help. Masha had also been rather hesitant to interact with her previously–

    The green haired girl let out an explosive sigh, slamming her pen onto the table, turning her chair around rapidly, drawing Irene's attention.

    Masha stared at her for a moment, working her jaw, before: "I'm sorry!"

    Irene blinked.

    "I'm sorry, ok?!"

    "What for?" Irene wondered. While Masha had been rather rude, she didn't usually say much of anything to Irene.

    The green haired girl groaned, pulling at her short hair briefly. "I'm sorry for thinking you were the same as nobles when you were actually adopted."

    "Did you…just find that out?" 'On second thought, I suppose it wouldn't be common knowledge for commoners from Reformist heavy places.'

    "No…! Well yes…kind of."

    Irene blinked again. "Err…Miss Regnitz, I have no idea what you mean."

    Masha flinched as if struck. "Please…never call me that again. Masha's fine."

    "I…still do not understand," Irene said slowly, "but if that bothers you, I will use your given name from now on."

    "Thanks," Masha sighed. "For trying to bail me out. And for trying to make sure I didn't get in trouble."

    "I did not succeed," Irene pointed out, but Masha waved her off.

    "I haven't been very charitable to you–or Albarea–but I'm not going to blame you for the machinations of that blond idiot."

    That was quite rude, but at the moment, Irene didn't see a reason to comment.

    "I appreciate that," Irene offered. "But I get the sense you haven't quite gotten to the point that you are trying to make."

    The green haired girl sighed, lifting her glasses up slightly and rubbing her eyes. "Yeah, sorry. Today has…not been the best."

    Irene nodded. That was an understatement.

    "I had…assumed you were like the nobles," Masha bit out finally. "I'm sorry for lumping you with the rest of them."

    "I accept your apology," Irene acknowledged, "though shouldn't you offer the same apology to Lady Julia? She would have tried rescuing you by herself, if we had not independently decided on the same course of action. She did this in a dress too."

    'Really, Julia was so unreasonable at times!'

    "I…" Masha's face twisted into a pained grimace. "I probably should. But…"

    "Masha."

    The green haired girl looked back up at Irene.

    "Did you eavesdrop on our conversation last night?"

    "W-what?! No! Of course I didn't–ah hell…" Masha sighed. "Yeah, but that was because you guys weren't being all that quiet–"

    "And does the reason you feel more charitable to us now happen to be our birth?" Irene asked evenly.

    "...Yeah," Masha admitted. "That was a part of it. Getting me out of prison was another part."

    "...You know, Julia was not wrong about your words sounding like the insults thrown at us by other nobles. They also cared very much about one's birth."

    Masha looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "Yeah…I…I've got a lot to think about."

    It might have been a bit uncharitable after what she went through today, but Irene felt that this point needed to be made. Fortunately, it seemed the experience had shaken the green haired girl enough to prompt some self reflection.

    A short while later, Julia returned, looking tired, but quite pleased. "Best fake suitor ever!" the blonde chirped as she closed the door behind her.

    "It went well, then?" Irene asked curiously.

    "Irene, no, it's not like that," Julia flatly denied, giving her an unimpressed look.

    "So Lord Ortenburg was upset?"

    "Oh, he is furious," Julia cackled. "Managed to keep his cool, but His Grace the Duke and Her Grace the Duchess have pissed him off royally."

    "And…that's a good thing?" Masha wondered, looking unnerved by her classmate's mood.

    "Well, objectively I should say that it is quite a bad thing," Julia admitted. "But I can't help but laugh. My father arranged this meeting to make sure he could throw you in prison, but he accidentally picked the one nobleman here with a spine and a brain."

    "Oh! So he was not offended by you going to intervene?" Irene theorized, clapping her hands together in interest.

    "He was the one who told me to go," Julia snorted. "He even spilled tea on himself to distract the guards for a bit."

    "That…what?!" Masha sputtered.

    "I see," Irene hummed, "so he is angry with the duke and duchess but not you."

    "Yup!" Julia snickered. "He actually up and left without even bothering to greet them after we had dinner. Even better, he specifically stopped to say goodbye to Rufus first."

    Irene's eyes widened. "He didn't…!"

    "He did!" Julia grinned. "He called Rufus 'Your Grace' then left without any further explanation. The duke was too stunned to respond before he was long gone!"

    "That…!"

    "What does that mean?" Masha asked. "He snubbed the duke?"

    "Yes," Irene confirmed. "But beyond that, he suggested that he views Rufus as a more legitimate ruler than the duke."

    "Uh…" the green haired girl blinked, gears clearly turning in her head. "But isn't he supposed to obey the duke?"

    "Come on, Regnitz, the Noble faction isn't a united monolith," Julia snorted. "The Reformists aren't either, you should be aware of that at least."

    "I…suppose you're right," Masha conceded. "Most Reformists just want to get rid of the old noble privileges, a fair few want to get rid of the class system altogether, and there are a few outliers that even want a republic!"

    "Like Calvard?" Irene wondered. 'How much would that change? If the people of Ymir voted for who would be mayor then Dad would win every time.'

    "Really? Should have figured," Julia mused. "But anyways, the Noble Faction has differing opinions on a variety of things as well. Overall, the most central concern is about whether a centralized government can be trusted with power. For some nobles, like my father, it is mostly about losing their own power, but for the nobles from more rural areas, like Rogar, it is more of a matter of suspecting that they will be ignored even more by an even more distant center of government."

    "In many more rural areas, the nobles and commoners have arrangements and agreements extending back generations," Irene added, "so while there is a divide in class, the commoners are unsure of being ruled by someone different than the family they are used to interacting with, and the nobles are not sure they can trust the central government compared to their liege lords."

    "If you go out far enough into the countryside, I bet you'll find most people there, noble or commoner, just do not really like city folk," Julia shrugged.

    "Right, we saw some of that even in Celdic, which is not far from Heimdallr," Irene agreed.

    "I…" Masha paused, before shaking her head. "I still think things need to change. Today hasn't done anything to change my belief that the class system is a huge problem, especially the unfair disparity in power it entails."

    "You're not wrong about how often power is abused," Julia concurred, her mood dipping down from her previous cheer. "I know quite a lot about that firsthand."

    "And yet, I don't think that problem will go away with the nobility," Irene cautioned. "Just look at how much power the Reinford Group has in Roer and Nortia Province as a whole."

    "The Reinfords are richer than most noble families," Julia added. "And you can't exactly say they got there just by their own merit, given the privileges they were given by the Reformist government and the Rogner family."

    "There are also many people who have been displaced by them," Irene murmured, "whether by being outcompeted or losing their homes to rather forceful real estate purchases."

    "You have a point there," Masha admitted sourly. "Rich commoners look down on poor commoners a lot too." She hummed thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it, it's a little surprising Elisha doesn't act like some of the people my dad has to deal with."

    "Does the Imperial Governor have to deal with many mad scientists?" Julia snorted.

    "Elisha is not insane!" Irene objected. "Simply…eccentric."

    "That's the same thing!" Masha shot back.

    "Or merely a difference of degree," Julia remarked with amusement.

    Irene sighed. "I will concede that he is slightly too enamored with dangerous equipment."

    "I think that's all of the boys in our class," Masha grumbled irritably. "Well, maybe not the Arseid."

    Julia snorted. "Ah yes, Lawrence, who is not allowed to go near ovens after he managed to somehow make two of them explode, one of them he did not even touch, should certainly not be trusted with explosives."

    "What was the art Emmet used, anyways?" Irene wondered. "It wasn't Spark Arrow."

    "I think it was an Ixion Volt?" Julia suggested. "It was really damn quick though, he barely used an incantation."

    "Are we even allowed to have quartz for something that powerful?" Masha pointed out.

    "No…" Irene murmured. "No we are not."

    "The boys in our class are all kind of nuts, aren't they?" the green haired girl muttered.

    "You got that right," Julia laughed. "Though it's pretty fun, all things considered."

    "They aren't crazy!" Irene denied. "Lawrence is actually quite normal for a dedicated martial artist, just look at Friedel! Elisha is a bit odd, but he seems quite a bit like some more enthusiastic technicians and engineers. Emmet comes off as standoffish and rude, but he was ready to fight the Provincial Army in the street when you were arrested, Masha."

    "He was?!" Masha sputtered.

    "You know…" Julia hummed thoughtfully. "He might have been able to win…especially since they'd definitely underestimate him."

    "And Fion is…well…" Irene trailed off, her face blanking. 'Fion was a former jaeger.'

    "Irene?"

    'He was in Zephyr, not a drop out–but he must have been so young!'

    "Irene, talk to me!"

    'It was not him. He's too young. It was also not Zephyr.'

    "Irene!"

    The girl in question jerked as someone grabbed her arm–

    "Julia?"

    "Ow!" Julia grunted, and Irene belatedly realized she had somehow put her friend into an armlock.

    "I'm sorry!" she cried, quickly letting go and backing away sheepishly.

    "Damn," Julia hissed, rubbing her arm. "It is far too easy to forget the Eight Leaves has an unarmed form."

    "What…did Fion do?" Masha wondered, wide-eyed and backing away to a safe distance.

    "Turns out Fion used to be a jaeger," Julia supplied–

    "What?!" Masha cried.

    "And, if I had to guess…" Julia paused, her voice softening. "You had a less than pleasant experience with jaegers before, haven't you?"

    "Does anyone?" Irene snapped, before deflating. "I'm sorry. I…don't really want to talk about it."

    Julia and Masha shared a glance, before nodding back at Irene.

    "Okay, that's fine," Julia said gently. "But if you ever feel the need to talk about it, I'll be willing." She chuckled. "You've listened to my problems plenty of times, it's about time I returned the favor."

    "Thank you, Julia," Irene smiled, before looking away sheepishly. "Sorry about your arm."

    "I was wrong," Masha muttered. "This whole class is crazy!"
    AN. Somewhat ironic that the commission request for Irene artwork, with her looking very nice, was finished right before the chapter where she goes a bit feral.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • I'm imagining Irene's voice just keeps getting squeakier as the chapter goes on until Fion blows the shaped charges, at which point it just drops and she's partially growling the rest of the encounter.

    What's Tv Tropes call it? Contralto of Danger?
     
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    Masha manages to be unintentionally adorable a lot, like she's trying to present as a porcupine but only manages disgruntled bunny.

    Very interesting to see the change here with Irene being the main complication for Fion compared to canon, as well as seeing this more ... inwardly melded but physically less obvious Ogre form that Irene has.
     
    13. Rainclouds and Regrets
  • Threadmarks
    • Rain Clouds and Regrets​
    With the onset of June came the rainy season, and the frequent gloomy days reflected the dampened mood of their class.

    While Masha put up a strong front, she had become even more twitchy around noble students, especially Lawrence, not helped by how the tall noble returned from Saint Arkh in a grim mood which had only been made worse by him learning about the events in Bareahard.

    Irene found what transpired quite concerning as well, doubly so because her memory of the last few hours was…hazy. She remembered traversing the waterways to free Masha, and fighting the jaeger hounds sent by the Provincial Army, but the details were fuzzy.

    Oh.

    And Fion used to be a jaeger.

    It was hard to look at him the same way she used to.

    It explained a lot of his oddities and the gaps in his education, especially his eagerness to eat food or nap wherever and whenever he could.

    Part of her still felt bad for him…but jaegers didn't deserve mercy.

    He wasn't one anymore though…

    It was probably a good thing that Fion had made himself scarce after the field study. She wasn't sure that she'd be able to act normally around him.

    And if that weren't enough, Julia was acting a bit strangely around her too. Her blonde friend had been worried about her, trying to make sure she wasn't getting too stressed, and checking up on her a lot more than before.

    She even seemed a bit nervous around her sometimes, which was…a bit worrying.

    Irene frowned, looking out the window at the rain, tuning out Instructor Valestein's half-hearted reminder to study.

    Oh, there she went ranting about Vice Principal Heinrich again. Those two really seemed to have strong feelings about each other.

    While Irene was fairly confident that she would be able to perform acceptably on the midterm exams, she would still have to find time to study.

    A few of her classmates looked a bit more concerned, like Ellia, who seemed not too far from pulling her hair out. Gaia seemed as calm as usual, but Irene had seen her in the library quite often in the past week, poring over her notes and textbooks. Lawrence and Elisha had also been there often, now that she thought about it, the former apparently having asked the latter for some assistance on studying for the engineering exam.

    Even Masha, who probably was in no danger of failing, looked slightly frazzled.

    The only one who looked entirely unaffected was Emmet, though since he had scored the highest on the entrance exam, maybe his confidence was justified. Then again, he had seemed barely fazed by the prospect of facing down the Provincial Army, so maybe it just wasn't important to him.

    "Irene?" Julia called, standing near her desk. "Are you doing alright?"

    "Hmm? I'm fine, Julia," Irene replied, looking up at her friend's concerned face, realizing belatedly that most of the class had left already. "Sorry for making you worry."

    Lawrence hovered by the door, giving her a questioning look, and–

    Wait, why was Emmet still here?

    "I'd stop worrying if you stopped spacing out like this," Julia huffed, taking a seat on the desk next to her (on Elisha's desk).

    "Does the weather not sit well with you?" Lawrence wondered.

    "Or did whatever happened in the sewers have some longer term effects?" Emmet suggested, leaning against the wall and giving her a searching stare over crossed arms.

    "Emmet! Don't be so blunt about it!" Julia hissed, turning to glare at their purple haired classmate.

    "Why not?" he grunted. "From what I have observed, it only comes out when Irene feels a desire to hurt something, like a jaeger."

    Thump!

    "P-please don't," Irene whispered, clutching her chest.

    "Emmet!" Lawrence growled, his voice rumbling through the room as he glared at the bespectacled man.

    "Honestly! Have you no shame?!" Julia huffed.

    "Only a little," Emmet replied sardonically. "But that doesn't really matter. What's important is that Irene doesn't fly off the handle at the wrong moment."

    "And provoking her is supposed to help, how?" Lawrence grunted skeptically.

    "Merely pointing out how much of a problem it is."

    "Directness is respectable, Millstein," Lawrence rumbled. "But blunt force does not solve all problems."

    "That just means you aren't applying enough of it to the right place," Emmet snarked back.

    Julia snorted, shaking her head, sharing a commiserating look with Irene. "Boys."

    Irene frowned "I'm sorry for worrying you–"

    "Up, up up! None of that!" Julia cut her off, waving her hand dramatically. "It isn't your fault–"

    "It sort of is," Emmet pointed up.

    "Shut up Millstein!" Julia sniffed. "You're not helping!" She turned back to Irene. "Though if the stress of exams and all the crap that's happened to us is getting to you, I think you could use a break."

    "B-but, there's so much–"

    "I spoke with President Herschel about it," Lawrence interrupted. "She mentioned that several other student council members are putting their duties on hold to study, helped by the fact that student activity also has decreased as people realize they need to study, so you should be able to ease off that work."

    "But then President Herschel has to do all the work herself and study!" Irene objected, though she felt her face warm. It was a bit touching that they cared, even Emmet, in his own way. Probably.

    "Nothing she hasn't done before, or so I've heard," Emmet chuckled. "And I'd bet blood that seeing you like this would only make little Towa worried."

    Irene looked down, realizing that he was right.

    "It's not fair when you all gang up on me like this," she pouted, letting out a long sigh.

    "Evidently, it was necessary," Lawrence chuckled. "You can be quite stubborn sometimes, Lady Irene. Especially when trying to help others at your own expense."

    "I-I'm not like that–!"

    "Yes you are," Julia snickered. "But now you have a mini me in the Student Council President to pass stuff off to when you need a break, like now."

    "Going into the exams all wound up isn't going to do you any good," Emmet pointed out. "Nor is trying to resolve how your maternal instincts conflict with your desire to strangle jaegers."

    Thump!

    "Aidios dammit Emmet!" Julia growled, baring her teeth at him. "Quit doing shit like that!"

    Their purple haired classmate just smirked at her. "You're a lot more fun with your claws out, Jules," he snickered, giving her an appreciative once over. "All you nobles in our class are quite fun, actually, all silk hiding steel."

    'B-wha?!'

    "I've never had silk used to describe me," Lawrence laughed, slapping Emmet on the back. "Are you sure you meant to include me?"

    "Got a point, you slab of rocks," Emmet grunted, straightening up quickly to cover how much the friendly smack had shifted him. "You're more like a massive club painted in bright colors."

    "I never took you to be a poet, Millstein," Julia snickered, "and seriously, 'Jules'?"

    "It takes all sorts. And what did that soldier call you?" Emmet mused, gazing up thoughtfully. "The finest jewel Bareahard ever produced?"

    "Oh, Aidios, anything but that," Julia groaned, pinching her nose with her hands.

    "Oh! I remember that one," Lawrence huffed. "Then there was the 'True Flower of Nobility' one."

    "Lawrence…" Julia grumbled warningly.

    "They are not incorrect," the tall man remarked defensively.

    "I'm not going to pretend I'm not a winner of Aidios' face lottery," Julia sighed, "I get reminded of that every damned day, but I'm not some 'True Flower of Nobility'. None of them believe that, it's just something they say to try and get up my skirt, or my father's, really."

    Irene choked on air. "J-Julia…!"

    Emmet snorted, before doubling over and letting out a loud laugh, the most expressive sound Irene had heard from him.

    It was a surprisingly nice laugh for a man as dour as him.

    From the looks Julia and Lawrence gave him, they seemed similarly surprised.

    Finally, Emmet ran out of breath, standing back up straight, a wry grin on his face. "Maybe they should have called you the sleekest mink in Kreuzen, pretty to look at, soft fur, but with claws and teeth enough to ruin any rat's day."

    "Oh, stop, you're making me blush!" Julia grinned covering her face in mock embarrassment, though her eyes glinted with mischief through her fingers.

    "I would also like to point out that roses have thorns and many gems are hard enough to cut things," Lawrence added. "They are also beautiful."

    "Dammit Lawrence," Julia sighed, smacking her forehead into her palm, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks.

    "Hehe…" Irene couldn't help but giggle, and after Julia shot her a betrayed look, she found she couldn't stop. She covered her mouth to try and stifle them, to no avail.

    "I-I'm…I'm glad you guys are getting along," she finally got out, getting control over her laughter. "Especially you, Emmet."

    She smiled at the normally standoffish man. "I don't know what weighs on you so much, but if you need help, you can ask."

    He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

    "There she goes again," Julia muttered, before giving Emmet a serious look. "I do owe you one. We definitely wouldn't have been able to get Regnitz out of the guardhouse without your help."

    "It was a group effort," Emmet grunted, looking away and crossing his arms.

    "Now, now, don't be too humble!" Lawrence laughed, patting his classmate on the shoulder. "I heard you took down a Kazakh Dovan single handedly! Quite an impressive feat. We should spar sometimes."

    "I would prefer my limbs intact," Emmet drawled, looking resigned.

    "Just don't block head on," Irene advised. "Then you'll be fine."

    "Not helping, Irene," Julia grumbled.

    "You do look a bit better now, Lady Irene," Lawrence observed. "Perhaps you just need to step away from things for a bit."

    "But…" Irene paused. He had a point. The bit of levity had done much to lift her mood.

    "It'll be a free day tomorrow," Julia pointed out, "why don't you visit Elise? It's a short train ride and a few months should have been enough for her to get situated."

    'Ah! Elise! How could I forget?!'

    "Ah, that's right!" Lawrence exclaimed. "I heard from Kordell she's found an ally in the younger Lady Schwarzer."

    'I'm such a failure of a sister!'

    "Well if she's anything like Irene she'll be sane at least," Julia remarked. "Something St. Astraia sorely needs."

    'Is she ok?! Did something happen?!'

    "You keep on describing that place as if it was a madhouse," Lawrence grumbled. "Was it truly so bad?"

    'Wait no, she'd send a letter if she needed help, right?'

    "An unnaturally high concentration of prepubescent noble girls?" Emmet mused. "That sounds like a recipe for disaster."

    "All the snide remarks you can ask for," Julia quipped.

    "Are you alright, Lady Irene?" Lawrence asked. "You look a bit distressed."

    "I really should visit Elise," Irene murmured. "I hope she's fitting in well–"

    "Alright! That's enough thinking!" Julia declared, shooing Irene out of her chair. "Go visit your sister! The school will still be standing when you get back."

    "Probably."

    "Not helping Millstein!"

    As much as Irene wanted to see her sister, it was getting rather late in the evening, so she decided to visit the next morning instead.

    Thus, she found herself on the earliest train to Heimdallr, enjoying the view of the sunrise through one of the windows.

    The train was not too crowded, it being the weekend, but there were quite a few people that still worked, or were visiting the capital for other reasons.

    A short trip later, she stepped off the train into Heimdallr Central Station, tracing familiar steps back to St. Astraia Girl's School.

    The Sankt District was a fairly safe part of the capital, though Irene still took her weapons with her. She would not be unprepared if someone dared to threaten her little sister!

    Or herself, for that matter.

    As she arrived at the gates of the school and looked up at the old building, she felt a nostalgic feeling settle over her. True, her time there had not been entirely pleasant, but she had made many friends, and proved that she could be a proper lady regardless of all the ridicule cast on her adoptive parents.

    Her reminiscing was interrupted as she sensed someone approaching, and she glanced back down to see a girl with shoulder length pale blue hair stalking around the school grounds, two swords strapped at her waist.

    "Lady Irene?" the blue haired girl greeted, sounding surprised. "What are you doing here?"

    "Oh, good morning Kordell!" Irene replied. "I decided to visit Elise and see how she was settling in. How are you doing? Keeping watch?"

    Kordell nodded. "Yes." Her face hardly changed, but from how her eyes lit up, the perhaps overly serious girl was quite happy to see her.

    "If you wish, we can spar later," Irene offered, stifling a giggle with her hand.

    Kordell's lips twitched upwards slightly, which for her, was an equivalent to a beaming smile. "I will fetch your sister."

    Irene's smile fell a bit as the blue haired girl went inside. Kordell Vander was officially Prince Cedric's guardian, a task the taciturn girl took very seriously, but with Princess Alfin attending St. Astraia, where her guardian, being male, would potentially pose a problem, it had been decided that they would switch their charges for the time being.

    The decision must have infuriated Kordell, but here she was, still dutifully keeping watch over not just the Princess, but also the rest of the school.

    A short while later, Irene spotted her adopted sister exiting the building, a rather annoyed look on her face.

    "Elise!" Irene cried, smiling at her sister. "How have you been?"

    "Perfectly fine, sister," Elise replied primly. "Just what are you doing here, at this hour too?"

    "Do I need a reason to visit my little sister?" Irene pouted, a bit hurt that Elise didn't look too happy to see her.

    "I suppose not," Elise sighed, smiling wryly. "Were you holding yourself back these past few months, then?"

    "I'm sorry I didn't visit earlier," Irene apologized. "Thors certainly has a rigorous curriculum, and I also felt that you needed some time and space to get situated here."

    "I barely needed to do anything of the sort," Elise snorted. "Many of the older students were all too eager to help me once they learned I was your little sister, and the staff here are even worse!" She sighed. "I have had quite enough of people pinching my cheeks and gushing about how cute I am."

    "But you are!" Irene cried. "They are simply acknowledging the truth!"

    "Why do I even bother?" Elise grumbled, shaking her head in resignation.

    "If you are busy, I can always come back later," Irene offered, somewhat disappointed by her little sister's annoyance.

    "No, it's fine," Elise denied quickly, looking a bit guilty. "You're here anyways, and no one's going to be mad if you visit."

    "Excellent!" Irene cheered, smiling brightly and clapping her hands together happily. "I know of a nice cafe that opens early, if you're in the mood for tea or coffee."

    "I think I know the one," Elise remarked drily. "I've had many people recommend it to me."

    "Wonderful!" Irene chirped. "Shall we go then?"

    "Very well, sister," Elise agreed, shaking her head in exasperation. "Just let me fetch my tachi."

    A while later, the two sisters sat at a table outside the cafe Irene had frequented during her own tenure there. The proprietors were quite happy to see her, but she declined their offer of free tea; she wouldn't want them going out of business.

    "Hmm…" Elise hummed, taking a sip of her tea. "This is quite good. I really shouldn't have expected otherwise."

    "I would hardly suggest you drink subpar tea!" Irene huffed, sipping at her own cup of tea.

    "Right," her little sister mumbled, staring down at her cup.

    "Is something wrong, Elise?" Irene asked worriedly. "Oh, I knew I should have visited earlier!"

    "It's…" Elise sighed, looking back at her sister. "It is not something you can really help me with, Irene."

    "What do you mean?" Irene frowned. 'What could be so difficult that I can't do anything to help?!'

    "Aside from dealing with a few irritating schoolmates, I have been well," Elise continued, which did not help Irene's confusion. "The problem is that everyone seems to think that I'm supposed to be just like you."

    Irene blinked. "But why?"

    "Seriously, sister?" Elise snorted, giving her an unimpressed look. "You were the student council president, and a good one at that. Everyone in the upper years knows who you are, and most of the faculty have nothing but praise for you."

    "Oh…I wasn't aware I made such an impression," Irene murmured.

    "How could you not?!" her sister exclaimed. "Even the maids keep fighting me about cleaning my own room and washing my own clothes!"

    "They are just being helpful."

    "Yeah, but what did you do for them to project whatever it is onto me?!"

    "...My first few months there…were not that pleasant," Irene recalled, looking down at her own tea. "Some of my classmates destroyed some of my uniforms, and the maids helped me get new ones, so I helped them clean sometimes later, and when I was Student Council President, I punished those who were disrespectful to them."

    "You could have told us about that," Elise grumbled.

    "I…didn't tell you, Mom or Dad, because I didn't want you to worry." Irene admitted..

    "Of course we were worried!" Elise exclaimed, jutting her chin out defiantly. "You were so far away, and it's not like we didn't know what some idiots were saying about you. We were surprised when you said nothing bad happened, but that didn't make us worry any less! In fact, it might have made us worry more! Why would you even think that!"

    Irene pursed her lips. This visit was turning out to be less relaxing than she had hoped. Though perhaps that was simply the natural result of her failings as a sister.

    Not that she was a real sister, in the first place.

    "Mother and Father have been very kind to me," she began, after a long pause. "They took me in when they had no obligation to, despite all the ridicule it brought on them."

    "Mother and Father adopted you, sis!" Elise emphasized, glaring at her furiously. "That means they–we view you as family, damn whatever other people say!"

    Irene smiled, one hand unconsciously clutching at her chest.

    'Why does my heart ache so?'

    "Such is the spirit of the Schwarzer family," she remarked, a sad smile on her face, "from its early days as a mountain clan, to its elevation to nobility, and even so until this day."

    Elise Schwarzer frowned at her, face scrunched up in adorable fashion. "Sis, why are you talking like you aren't a Schwarzer too?"

    "Because I am not," Irene admitted. "Not in truth."

    "Didn't you hear what I just said!" Elise sputtered. "Sure, you may not be my sister by blood, but you're family in all the ways that matter!"

    "Blood matters too, Elise," Irene countered. "It is why you will inherit, rather than me."

    "That's not how it works!" Elise exclaimed, eyes ablaze with passion. "Father can pass the title to either of us, and it really should be you, since you're the older sister. You were the one who insisted that it had to be me!"

    "I can't just usurp centuries of heritage!" Irene cried. "That is simply not right!"

    "You wouldn't be!" Elise shot back, clutching her tea furiously. "You're one of us in all the ways that actually matter. Remember what Father told you? That bonds of spirit are stronger than shared blood?"

    Irene looked down at her tea, blinking as some water splashed into her cup. 'Was it raining?'

    "I'm afraid I'm a bit lacking there too, Elise," she whispered. "I don't really share the same sort of spirit you and your mother and father have."

    "What do you mean, sister?" Elise cried, staring at her with watery eyes.

    "I…could not–cannot, so easily ignore what other people say," Irene began. "I don't care that they mock me, but for them to deride the great kindness Mother and Father have shown me–"

    Thump!

    "That, I cannot forgive." She smiled grimly. "I made those girls here eat their words, and perhaps I can do the same for the others too."

    "...Stupid Big Sister," Elise pouted, giving her a disappointed glare. "You shouldn't listen so much to other people. Shouldn't what we say mean more?"

    Irene laughed wetly. "Truly, I do not deserve you."

    'Oh…were those tears?'

    "Grr...do I need to beat some sense into you again?!" her sister growled, springing up to her feet.

    "You're welcome to try," Irene chuckled, smiling slightly. "It hasn't worked so far."

    "No wonder Kordell likes you so much," Elise grumbled.

    Elise had improved quite a bit, Irene noted as she ducked under a helical slash to tag her little sister in the leg.

    "Point to Lady Irene," Kordell called as Elise huffed in irritation, rubbing the sore spot on her leg.

    "That was well done, Elise," Irene smiled brightly, all sign of her earlier dull mood vanished. "You must have been training seriously to improve this much in a few months."

    "Evidently not enough," her little sister huffed. "I guess your help wasn't that great after all, Kordell."

    "You have gotten better," the blue haired girl noted. "Lady Irene has simply improved more." She frowned. "If only we could get more experience here similar to what I've heard of this Class VII."

    "Don't be like that, Kordy!" a bright voice chirped from the sidelines. "This place is plenty fun!"

    'Ah, right! My cute little sister has made friends with the princess!'

    Princess Alfin Reise Arnor pranced over to the group, clapping her hands excitedly.

    "It is not," Kordell grumbled.

    "And why didn't you tell me your famous Big Sister would be visiting, Elise?" the princess questioned, ignoring her current guardian's disgruntled sounds.

    "That fault would be mine, Princess," Irene admitted, dipping into a polite curtsey. "I arrived unannounced because I had an unexpected amount of free time."

    "Ohoh? A surprise inspection?" the short blonde giggled. "Your arrival sure got a few people scrambling to tidy up and look busy."

    "Eh?" Irene blinked. "They did not have to do that. I am simply here to visit my cute little sister!"

    "Sister, why?" Elise sighed, shaking her head as she sheathed her sword.

    "My, my, you certainly didn't exaggerate, my dear Elise," Princess Alfin giggled. "Your sister is certainly quite the character!"

    "I will take that as a compliment, Your Highness," Irene replied with a smile.

    "And so polite! As expected from a former student of this illustrious school!" the blonde royal beamed happily.

    "Aren't you usually still sleeping at this time?" Kordell asked bluntly, giving the princess a blank look that Irene knew signified annoyance.

    "How could I miss the chance to meet Elise's dear older sister?!" Princess Alfin gasped.

    "If only you could wake at this time when we have class," her blue haired guardian returned, her tone still flat and unchanged.

    "Ack! Kordell, don't betray me so!"

    "No."

    "Isn't making sure you go to class part of her job?" Elise added, pinching her nose in annoyance.

    "Yes."

    "Oh come on you two!" Princess Alfin cried. "Stop making me look bad!"

    Irene chuckled into her hand at the sight. "I'm glad you seemed to have made friends, Elise."

    Princess Alfin paused in her theatrics for a moment, giving Irene a considering look. "That's really your first thought?"

    "Well…yes?" Irene frowned, looking at the royal curiously. "My first few weeks here were a bit difficult, so I am pleased to see that it was not so for Elise."

    "She beat up the annoying ones," Kordell remarked approvingly.

    "Wait! Don't tell her that!"

    "Elise…" Irene called warningly. "What did I say about getting into fights?"

    "Ensure that they would be perceived as the aggressor first," her precocious sister recited with a sigh.

    "She did do that," Kordell noted.

    "It was quite impressive!" Princess Alfin declared. "So this is where you learned that from, right Elise?"

    "Yes it was," Elise intoned flatly.

    "Speaking of which…" Kordell trailed off.

    Irene laughed. "Yes, we can spar, Kordell."

    Kordell nodded, her lips quirking upwards in delight.

    Sparring with Kordell was always enlightening, as while the blue haired guardian practiced a form from the Vander School, it bore quite a few similarities to Irene's own interpretation of the Eight Leaves.

    Both of them focused on quick footwork and evasion, or using one weapon to deflect and the other to attack. When facing another with a similar style, it was more akin to a dance than a fight, though quite a bit more dangerous.

    Blades glanced off blades as the two of them danced around each other in whirls of steel, and Irene found herself hard pressed to keep up, despite her opponent being a few years younger.

    'My word, Kordell is truly talented!'

    Still, Irene had learned a few more tricks of her own. She blocked Kordell's attacks, locking her in a bind and throwing the smaller girl off balance with a shoulder check, giving her an opening to score a quick hit.

    Kordell conceded with a slight pout. "You have been sparring with Sir Lawrence, haven't you?" The young Vander accused.

    "Ahaha…" Irene laughed awkwardly. "I may have?"

    "Ooh, how dangerous!" The princess crowed. "You better watch out, Kordy, or else she might steal him from you!"

    'Wha–?'

    "I do not understand," Kordell muttered. "I do not own Sir Lawrence."

    "Big Sister…" Elise drawled, giving Irene a gimlet stare. "Did I hear that right? Have you been hanging out with boys unsupervised?"

    "I-It was for schoolwork…" Irene flubbed, flushing in embarrassment.

    "…I'm telling Father," her cute little sister declared.

    "Elise! It's not like that!" Irene cried.

    "Someone has to look out for you," Elise huffed. "Otherwise people will keep taking advantage of you."

    "Elise!"

    "Heeheehee! You two are so much fun!" Princess Alfin laughed, clapping her hands together in delight. "It's a shame you did not continue your studies here, Lady Irene. Having you as a senior would have been wonderful!"

    "You flatter me, Princess," Irene demurred. "Even so, I have found my time at Thors to be very educational, in ways this school, as refined as it is, cannot offer." That, and she did not want to overshadow Elise. Her little sister needed her own space to bloom.

    "All the skilled one went to Thors," Kordell grumbled under her breath. "At least Elise is here."

    "Thanks, Kordell," Elise sniffed, rolling her eyes at her blue haired classmate.

    "You're welcome? Though I do not know what you are thanking me for."
    Elise let out a slow breath, closing her eyes for a moment.

    "Hehe, it's good to see the three of you all getting along so well," Irene chuckled. "And perhaps the Crown Prince will attend Thors in a few years. That is fairly common for members of the Imperial Family, is it not? Then you would be able to attend as well, Kordell."

    "Hm." The blue haired girl nodded thoughtfully.

    "Nooo!" the Princess cried, rushing over to grab hold of Kordell's arm. "No stealing!"

    "I do not belong to you," Kordell muttered, giving her charge an unimpressed look.

    "I…do not understand what you mean," Irene murmured. "Assuming I complete my education on time, I will have graduated when Prince Cedric is of the right age to attend Thors. Not to mention that you could always attend yourself, Princess."

    Princess Alfin narrowed her eyes, giving Irene a scrutinizing look, before turning to share a glance with Elise. "Dangerous."

    'H-huh?!'

    "Yes," Kordell agreed. "You may reach intermediate level soon." The admission seemed to pain her, and Irene swore she could see the light dim in her junior's eyes.

    "You really think so?" Irene wondered. "If that's true, you must be quite close as well, Kordell, we were quite evenly matched there."

    "You won," Kordell pointed out.

    "Only because I used something I learned from sparring with Sir Lawrence," Irene qualified. "If you continue to progress at the same rate, I believe you will reach intermediate level soon as well."

    "So, I need to spar with more opponents," Kordell hummed thoughtfully. "I see. Thank you."

    "My word! You managed to get Kordy to think about making new friends!" Princess Alfin exclaimed. "I've never managed that at all!"

    "Your suggestions were bad," her guardian retorted blandly.

    "Oof!" the princess clutched her chest as if struck.

    "They all just wanted more favor with Prince Cedric," Kordell continued ruthlessly, turning to give her charge a dead-eyed stare, "and many of them insisted on plying me with falsehoods about my beauty."

    "Oh, don't get down about that, Kordell," Elise sighed. "You are plenty beautiful."

    "It doesn't matter," her blue haired classmate dismissed. "The parasites made insinuations about the Prince and I, as if Prince Cedric would deign to such vices. I was tempted to demand satisfaction for such slander, but Prince Cedric asked me not to kill anyone for him if I didn't need to."

    "Challenging them does not mean killing them," Irene pointed out helpfully. "Though many girls of that sort are quite vindictive, so it may be necessary to put the fear of Aidios into them."

    Kordell nodded solemnly. "I see. I will take this into consideration."

    "...Your sister is really dangerous," Princess Alfin whispered to Elise, who nodded smugly.

    "Now, don't pretend this is not relevant to you as well, Princess," Irene added sweetly, giving the blonde royal a smile.

    "Err…what do you mean?" Princess Alfin asked hesitantly, shifting her feet so her guardian was partly between her and Irene. For her part, Kordell looked unimpressed.

    "You have a duty to your brother as well," Irene pointed out. "Kordell is charged with protecting him in body and to ensure his health, but as his sister, Princess Alfin, it is your duty to protect his spirit, and, if necessary, to leverage the influence you have that a guardian lacks."

    "Right, I can't let Kordell do all the work!"

    "Yes you can," Kordell objected. "You do."

    "Hey! Don't embarrass me like that!"

    "No. May I have my arm returned to me?"

    "No! I still need it."

    In response, Kordell began walking away, dragging the princess with her.

    "Are…the two of them always like this?" Irene murmured, giving her sister a questioning look.

    "Yes," Elise huffed, letting out a long suffering sigh.

    "I see St. Astraia is the same as ever," Irene giggled.

    Despite her brief slip up during teatime, overall, Irene found the trip quite refreshing. She felt a bit bad about unloading some of her feelings on her little sister, but Elise just had a way of worming her way through her composure, and Irene was really quite helpless against her little sister's serious face.

    Which is why she caved when Elise insisted on walking with her back to the station, even though it was getting a bit late. With how much her little sister had improved, she would probably be fine returning to the school by herself, not that Irene didn't worry anyways.

    "Enough with that, Irene!" Elise sighed. "I'm not going to be walking through any of the dangerous parts of the city, and I can take care of myself!"

    "It's a big sister's prerogative to worry," Irene replied. "Even though I am very proud to see how well you are doing." She reached up and patted her cute little sister on the head.

    "Stop that!" Elise grumbled, swatting at the offending appendage.

    "You'll be about my height or taller real soon," Irene hummed, "so I have to make the most of it while I can."

    "Just go buy your ticket, Big Sister," Elise huffed, shaking her head in exasperation.

    Irene covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile, but her little sister was just so cute she couldn't help it!

    That said, she did have to get her ticket, so she stepped into the line, while Elise stepped over to a map of the railways to pass the time.

    While it was the weekend, this was still Heimdallr, so it took some time to get her ticket. By the time she was done, she found Elise chatting with a young man in a cap and a green jacket.

    "Making friends, little sister?" Irene interjected with some amusement, glancing at Elise's conversation partner–

    "Oh! You're back, sister, this is–"

    Irene stepped forward, putting herself between her sister and the disguised figure.

    "What are you doing, Fion?"

    The former jaeger stepped back, hands empty and raised placatingly, his eyes widening in surprise. "Whoa there! Just forget you saw me, and I'll be out of your life for good."

    "S-sis?"

    "What do you mean by that?" Irene hissed, narrowing her eyes at the young man. "And what were you doing with Elise?"

    "Nothing!" Fion replied swiftly. "I was looking at the map, and she started talking to me."

    "Sister isn't this your classmate?"

    "He's a jaeger."

    "More of a dropout at this point," Fion muttered, his eyes darkening. "Not that it makes much of a difference."

    "…What are you talking about?" Irene asked icily.

    "When Pops died, the other ditched me," Fion spat. "Barely let his body go cold before they left. So much for all being a family."

    "I…thought you didn't have parents?" Irene blurted out, her anger wavering. 'If the jaegers found him…'

    "Sis!"

    "Not that I remember," Fion shrugged. "Got adopted into Zephyr by the Boss as far as I know. Not official like, 'cause jaegers. I guess technically Sara is my mom now paper wise."

    "That doesn't explain why you are here though." 'What were the odds they just happened to find him?'

    "To take a train."

    "To where?"

    "Anywhere. Doesn't really matter."

    "Don't you have school?!" Elise exclaimed, giving Fion a disappointed look.

    "Elise–"

    "What's wrong with you, Sister? Shouldn't you be lecturing him for playing truant?"

    "What's that mean?"

    "Skipping out on school," Elise supplied helpfully.

    "Huh, story of my life then," Fion snorted.

    "And what, exactly, do you plan on accomplishing by leaving like this?" Irene pressed. "Am I correct in assuming Instructor Valestein is unaware?"

    "Not sure, I'll figure it out," Fion shrugged. "And not sure about Sara either. She'll catch on eventually. Probably. Dunno if she'll care. She's got you guys now."

    "W-wait! You plan on just running off on your own?" Elise exclaimed, pushing past Irene to give Fion a disapproving glare.

    "Elise!"

    "No, Sis, I don't care if he might be a bit dangerous, he shouldn't have to do that! How are you even going to live?"

    "There's always gonna be people who pay for stuff to get handled," Fion replied. "Monsters to kill, enemies to kill…Heh, maybe I'll get lucky and there are more cute girls that need to get busted out of jail."

    "By yourself?!" Elise cried. "That's not safe at all!"

    Fion nodded nonchalantly. "I tried living a normal life. Didn't work out so well. And I don't really know how to do anything else."

    "Because they never let you learn?" Irene asked softly.

    "I guess? Wasn't ever a priority," Fion grunted. "Not sure they knew either. Things look a lot different when you half expect to die in the near future."

    "And you…want to go back to that?" Irene asked incredulously.

    "Honestly…? Yeah…I kinda do," the silver haired boy admitted, looking to the side thoughtfully.

    "Why?!" Elise croaked.

    "I've seen people die," Fion murmured, staring off into space. "People I knew, people I didn't. Almost died a few times. Got out alive though."

    Irene stilled. 'I…hadn't thought of that…and he's so young…'

    "Not the best life, sure. Food kinda sucked…But here, I've got nothing. Pops is dead, all my friends fled, and I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to do." He shrugged. "Out there, I know what to do, how things work, and the same number of people'll care when I'm dead."

    "T-that's…!" Elise gasped. "That's horrible."

    "Such is life," Fion shrugged.

    Thump!

    Irene felt her heart break.

    Before she knew what she was doing, she had stepped forward and wrapped the young man in a hug.

    "Wha–?!"

    "Sometimes…sometimes, we live when people close to us don't…" she whispered.

    Thump!

    'NOOOOO! Why?!'

    "And sometimes…people get to walk away who don't deserve to…"

    Thump!

    'What did Kasia and my daughter ever do to you?!
    I'm your enemy! I'm the one you want!'

    "But if the people we lost really cared about us, they wouldn't want us to throw our lives away, would they?"

    "...Sis?!"

    "...I guess not," Fion replied quietly, stock still, but Irene could feel him trembling.

    "After all…you can't pay those responsible back if you die fruitlessly in a ditch, can you?"

    Thump!

    "...Irene?"

    "...Pff! Hahaha!" Fion broke into laughter as his head thumped into her shoulder. "How come you get it?!" He croaked, and Irene could feel the dampness of tears.

    "Jaegers killed my mother-my birth mother, like they did yours."

    "I don't remember her–"

    "It may be kinder that way."

    "-so why does it hurt?"

    "...Maybe the heart remembers things that the head does not."

    "...I have no idea what's going on," Elise muttered.

    Frankly, Irene wasn't sure either. It wasn't that long ago she had drawn steel on the boy now crying into her shoulder.

    "You really think I can live a normal life?" Fion wondered, voice watery.

    "Perhaps as normal as Instructor Valestein," Irene replied. "At the very least, it will be a better life than a jaeger."

    "You sure?"

    "Positive."

    "Well…I guess I could give being a bracer a try," Fion huffed. "Do bracers need to take exams too, though?"

    "Yes they do," Irene replied.

    "Damn."

    "If it's any consolation, that's a pretty normal reaction," Irene chuckled. "And Towa and I can help you study."

    "Well, you bring food, so that sounds good."

    "J-just what are you doing, Irene?!" Elise sputtered, her face red with exasperation.

    "What do you mean, Elise? Someone needs to fill in the gaps in his education from the jaeger neglect."

    "Didn't you say he was dangerous?! Now you're hugging him!"

    "You know, I kinda feel like I'm the one in trouble," Fion remarked. "You're big sister is pretty dangerous herself."

    "N-no I'm not!"

    "Uh…I saw what you did to that Kazakh Dovan. You split it open like a sack of flour."

    "F-fion!"

    "A what?!"

    "A jaeger trained hunting dog," Irene explained. "It wasn't that dangerous."

    "Oh–"

    "It was about the size of a horse."

    "Sister…"

    "…A small horse."

    "…I'm telling Father."

    "Elise!"

    "...You can let go now…if you want," Fion murmured awkwardly. "I think I'm ok now."

    "Oh! My apologies, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!" Irene cried, letting go of her classmate, who shrugged.

    "I mean, it was kind of nice," he hummed. "Just kind of…different."

    "It's only been a few months, sister. Just how many boys have you gotten wrapped around your finger?" Elise snarked, giving Irene an unimpressed stare.

    "Umm…none?"

    "Uh…you're on the Student Council," Fion added helpfully. "That means you're kinda in charge of a lot of boys and girls."

    "That is not how the Student Council works!" Irene huffed.

    "Most of the clubs need to ask you if they want money," Fion pointed out.

    "That's the Student Council, not me!" Irene insisted.

    "Didn't you manage to bully Lawrence into buying new clothes?"

    "What?!"

    "I did not! I just convinced him to ask for a properly sized uniform!"

    "And you made Emmet play ball with Julia and Masha."

    "I just told him I wanted to get a better score on that field study."

    "You also got Elisha to remember that lunch was a thing."

    "Sister, just what have you been getting up to at school?"

    "It's not what it sounds like, Elise!" Irene cried, feeling her face heat up in embarrassment.

    "What does it sound like?" Fion wondered.

    The station announcement system pinged, announcing the imminent departure of the train to Trista, and Irene was thankful for the distraction.

    "Oh! Fion, do you need to get a ticket?" She asked, unease filling her as she realized he probably wouldn't have time to get one.

    "Nope," the silver haired boy shrugged. "But don't worry, I can find my way back to school the same way I got here."

    "...How did you get here?"

    "By bike."

    'He rode a bicycle the whole way?!'

    "Don't you have a train to catch?" Fion pointed out.

    "Oh yes! It was nice visiting with you, Elise, but I must go–" Irene turned to leave, but paused, turning around to give her classmate a serious look. "If you are not back in the dorms before the day is over…I will be very disappointed."

    "Got it, boss," Fion grunted, giving her a mock salute.

    "It was good seeing you again, Sister," Elise offered, narrowing her eyes at Fion.

    "Make sure you get back to school safe, Elise!" Irene called over her shoulder as she headed towards the train. "Don't follow any suspicious people, and make sure to stay alert!"

    "I will, Sister," Elise sighed. "I'm not stupid."

    "She isn't wrong though," Fion pointed out.

    "Quiet you!"

    "What did I do now?"

    It was probably not a wise idea to trust Fion to do what she told him to do after what had just transpired, but she couldn't really force him to return. Still, Irene worried about it the entire train ride back to Trista.

    She returned to the Class VII dormitory with some hesitancy, wondering if she should wait somewhere to see if Fion would actually return–

    Thud!

    A loud crashing sound came from inside the dormitory, and Irene pulled the door open quickly to see if anyone was hurt.

    "Oh, good evening Lady Irene," Lawrence greeted casually as he swatted Fion out of the air, knocking the silver haired boy to the ground.

    "Oof! Hey boss, I made it back in time!" Fion grunted as he picked himself off the ground, getting to his feet and circling to one side, looking for an opening.

    "Well you came back at an awkward time," Elisha remarked, sipping on a cup of tea from the couch, where he and Gaia were sitting.

    "What in the world is going on here?" Irene cried.

    Lawrence and Fion continued exchanging blows, apparently deaf to her inquiries.

    "After Fion came back on the thing he called a bike, Lawrence challenged him to a fight so they could settle their differences," Gaia explained.

    "What?!"

    "I mean, this makes sense," Elisha pointed out. "You know how they are."

    "I think they have moved past whatever disagreement they had," Gaia mused, watching attentively as Fion tried several methods to topple his much larger opponent. "They seem to be having fun."

    Despite his efforts, Fion had no luck, mostly because while Lawrence wasn't as quick, he was still remarkably fast for a man his size.

    "Is…it that simple for them?" Irene wondered, still hovering by the door as she definitely did not want to get caught up in the fight.

    "It seems so," Gaia observed, taking another sip of her tea. "They are no longer really aiming to hurt each other anymore."

    "Huh?!" Irene squeaked. On further inspection, it was now obvious that both of the boys were a bit banged up, though it was quite imbalanced, with Lawrence only sporting a bruise on his face, while Fion appeared to be favoring his left leg and looked like he had been thrown around.

    "Though the match up was certainly skewed in Lawrence's favor to start with," Gaia mused. "Fighting a man his size barehanded is rather challenging."

    "Yeah but Heiny took all my explosives and Lawrence was right about not destroying the dorm, so they're not really going all out," Elisha added, as if that was normal.

    "Couldn't you two have done this outside?!" Irene sighed in exasperation.

    "Actually…that is a fair point," Lawrence admitted, pausing for a moment.

    "Oops, sorry boss," Fion added, shrugging his shoulders.

    "Boss?" Elisha wondered.

    "Could you morons keep it down?!" Masha yelled down from the top of the stairwell. "Some of us are trying to study here. You know, studying for the midterm exams this month?!"

    "We are also studying," Lawrence called back. "Simply for the practical exam instead."

    Masha blinked, before arching up like a startled cat. "Fine, but couldn't you do that outside?!"

    "I think we can call it here," Fion offered. "I'm gonna try and avoid getting into a fist fight with you after this."

    "Fair enough," Lawrence chuckled. "It would not do to be overexerted before the exams."

    "Fion?" Irene asked, the more rational part of her mind catching up to her. "How did you get here before the train did?"

    "I rode a bike," the silver haired boy replied as he collapsed on the couch and grabbed a cup of tea.

    "You were riding a bicycle before this?" Lawrence asked, taking a seat on the other side of the couch, his weight bouncing the smaller youth up slightly. "I apologize then, it was a bit unfair to challenge you when you were not at your best."

    "Nah, it's fine," Fion grunted. "The bike's an auto, so I wasn't that tired."

    "An auto?"

    "Yeah, like an orbal car."

    "Waaaait a minute!" Elisha called, narrowing his eyes at Fion. "Did you steal my bike?"

    "...No?" Fion replied uncertainly. "I didn't know you owned a bike."

    "Was it the one by the Engineering building?"

    "Oh, that was yours?" Fion asked, looking legitimately surprised. "It wasn't booby trapped though."

    "Dammit George! I told you we should have booby trapped it!" Elisha barked, slamming his cup on the table.

    "Be nice to the silverware," Gaia chided, elbowing him in the rib.

    "Ow! Ok! Ok, I'll be nice to these containers."

    "Fion!" Irene cried. "You can't just take people's things without asking for them!"

    "Ok, I'll ask first next time, boss."

    "Would you all shut up?!" Masha shrieked from the third floor.

    This class was certainly lively, if nothing else.

    A.N. Thanks to @LordOfChange for proofreading (I really need to remember to say that. If I forget to mention it, it's still very much appreciated).

    This chapter...has a lot of tonal whiplash. I'm not entirely sure it makes sense, but Irene is in a rather weird spot right now emotionally, and well, we know how Rean/Irene acts like around Elise. It isn't helping that Fion triggers two conflicting feelings for her too.

    This section of classmate conflict is not entirely resolved, it's just making a lot more headway to start with.

    I also have a Discord server if people are interested in that. It was mostly for my other fic but that's finished now.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • School Days 3
  • Sidestory

    • School Days 3

    ​
    Between Field Studies Two and Three
    Lawrence S. Arseid quite liked mornings. He'd been in the habit of rising early for…most of his life. Not particularly surprising, given his family's martial tradition.

    Neither Father, Klaus, or Aurelia could stand a layabout. It also helped that being in bed started being quite a bit less comfortable when he started really growing, though he stopped sleeping on the couch after Aurelia threw him into Lake Ebel that one time.

    Though on that note, he would have to find some way to properly thank Irene. While it had been slightly embarrassing, having a properly sized bed was a lot better than not. Thankfully, he was most likely not going to be outgrowing it anytime soon.

    Probably.

    Being big had its problems, but at least he no longer was a disgrace to his family's heritage, even if he still hit his head on door frames occasionally.

    Regardless of his meandering thoughts, Lawrence slowed to an ambling jog as he reached the pond behind the gymnasium, setting down the chairs he had brought facing them towards the water.

    It seemed that Theresia had not arrived yet, which wasn't that unusual, she usually spent a fair bit of time at the chapel after her morning run.

    But it wasn't a problem. Fishing was not a hurrying activity.

    It was also not a task he was particularly good at (well, at least, the normal way), so when Theresia arrived at her usual time, he hadn't had a bite.

    "I apologize for my tardiness," Theresia said in lieu of a greeting, looking embarrassed.

    "Ha! No need for that, Lady Theresia," Lawrence reassured her. "We've basically agreed that I will show up earlier to bring the chairs. You also have not missed anything; haven't gotten a bite yet."

    "Even so, it is somewhat shameful for me to make you carry the supplies every time, Sir Lawrence," Theresia demurred.

    "No need to worry!" Lawrence replied. "These chairs are not that heavy, and I could use the training."

    "A-Ah…" Theresia's face was flushed, probably from her morning exercise. "Thank you for indulging me when you could be training."

    "Nonsense!" Lawrence declared with a laugh. "Fishing can be a form of training too."

    "I-I suppose it can build patience," Theresia stammered, becoming shy all of a sudden. Lawrence really did not understand, she was perfectly confident on the practice field.

    "Indeed! Now come and take a seat," he called. "The fish can sense your hesitation, or at least that's what Lady Aurelia always says."

    "Well, far be it from me to question the Golden Rakshasa," Theresia giggled, taking a seat in the empty chair and beginning to set up her own fishing rod.

    "To be fair, Lady Aurelia would actually be quite pleased if someone challenged her," Lawrence remarked. "Though the offender would likely be thrown in the lake, or pond, in this case."

    "She does seem rather fond of that," Theresia mused, casting her own line.

    Now the waiting began.

    Lawrence took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

    It was quite fascinating how much one could learn from endeavors not directly tied to the martial arts, and over the years, he had certainly seen the wisdom in Father's words.

    Fishing, for example, was not only useful for teaching patience. It also could be used to train a sort of vigilant meditation. To catch fish, one had to wait, and not grow weary, but one also had to be ready to spring into action at any moment…

    Hmm…it seemed that the fish were not eager to bite.

    Perhaps Kenneth had fished in this spot enough that the fish had grown wary of it?

    "Hmm…" Theresia hummed. "I'm not being impatient, am I?"

    "We have been waiting for a fair amount of time," Lawrence noted, glancing over to the horizon where the sun was making itself known. "Perhaps we can ask Kenneth, since he is on his way here."

    "Is he?" Theresia wondered, turning around to spot the Lakelord approaching them. "So he is. Your senses are impressive as always."

    "You flatter me," Lawrence chuckled, "but it was just a trick I learned from Lady Irene."

    "I see…" Theresia trailed off, looking troubled for some reason.

    "I'm sure she could teach it to you, if you asked," he reassured.

    "If she has the time," Theresia sighed, shaking her head. "That poor girl tries to do too much."

    Lawrence agreed, but given Kenneth was getting close to them, he thought it polite to turn around and greet the fisherman.

    "You two have any luck?" the Lakelord greeted, carrying his own fishing rod along with a bucket.

    "Good morning, Kenneth," Lawrence greeted. "We have had no luck so far."

    Theresia nodded in agreement.

    "Darn," Kenneth sighed. "The fish have been avoiding this area ever since Reinford and Worzel shot explosives into the pond. It was a while ago, but I guess the fish haven't worked up the courage to come back yet."

    "I see…" Lawrence replied flatly. "I suppose we should have picked a spot by the river then, Lady Theresia?" That was another lesson. It did not matter how patient you were if you were in the wrong spot.

    "Honestly…this was probably more relaxing than actually catching a fish," the blonde murmured.

    "All part of life," Kenneth chuckled. "Anyways, I'm going to head to a different fishing spot. See you guys later!" With that, the fisherman walked off/

    "Sorry, Lawrence," Theresia sighed after Kenneth left, looking down. "It appears I have wasted your training time."

    "I agreed to come, didn't I?" Lawrence countered, "so if any time was wasted I wasted it myself. Besides, I stand by what I said earlier than this was a kind of training, even if we caught no fish, and even if it wasn't, it isn't a bad thing to sit and be still for a while, especially in pleasant company."

    "A-Aah…" Theresia flushed red, but what did she have to be embarrassed about? "I suppose you have a point there. It is quite relaxing, I just thought you would be busy."

    "I am rather busy," Lawrence admitted, "especially with the midterms approaching, though not busy enough to dismiss a suggestion from a friend out of hand."

    "I-I see," Theresia murmured, looking down. "Thank you for listening to my suggestion."

    "Thank you for making a good suggestion," Lawrence returned. "I would not mind trying this again, though maybe at a fishing spot where Elisha has not been yet."

    "I would like that, if it's not too much trouble," Theresia smiled.

    "No trouble at all!" Lawrence declared.

    Now, would fishing help Monica get better at swimming? It didn't really make sense, but he hadn't thought that learning to dance or play the oboe would help with martial arts until Aurelia had beat them into him.

    Though…what it about fishing was making Theresia so embarrassed?

    "C'mon, you're almost there!"

    Monica's limbs ached and her lungs burned, but she tried to ignore that, kicking furiously to get to the end of the pool that seemed oh so far away.

    "You got this, Monica!" Klein called from the goal, where Caspar had already reached the end of his lane.

    Monica cycled for a breath.

    Almost there.

    "Just a bit more!" Caspar shouted encouragingly.

    Almost.

    Finally, she reached the wall, grabbing hold of it with trembling arms as she caught her breath.

    "Nice work!" Caspar complimented. "I think you were faster than last time."

    "By about a second," Klein specified, marking down a time on his watch.

    Oh.

    "Still, progress is progress," the swimming club captain added. "This also makes it twice you've managed to complete a full set."

    Twice after almost three months, Monica sighed in her head, too tired to voice the thought aloud. She was still a lot slower than everyone else in the club.

    She wasn't doing all that great in class either. Getting into Thors had been exciting, but a lot of the time it felt like everyone was so far ahead of her.

    Was she really worthy of being here?

    "Hey, you look pretty beat," Caspar called, crouching down next to her, having already gotten out of the pool. "Do you need a hand up or do you want to cool down in the water a bit?"

    Monica blushed a bit at him suddenly being so close. It wasn't like they were going to swim fully clothed but she still wasn't quite used to the guys in the club having their shirts off most of the time.

    They were all quite muscular too, especially Lawrence.

    "Monica?" Caspar asked worriedly.

    "O-Oh, sorry," she gasped out. "Just catching my breath."

    "…You know, you don't need to feel bad about being a beginner, right," her blond classmate asked after a moment.

    "I…haven't made much progress so far," Monica whispered.

    "Yeah you have," Caspar denied, "last month you definitely couldn't have managed this."

    "But all the rest of you are so much better at it!"

    "I've been swimming since I was a kid," Caspar pointed out, "and you know how enthusiastic Klein is about swimming. And Lawrence…" he snorted. "He's Lawrence."

    "True…" Monica admitted. The super tall noble could swim the whole length of the pool without coming up for air.

    "The important thing is you're getting better," Caspar continued. "At this rate you'll be able to swim a set without breaking a sweat in no time!"

    "Maybe."

    Monica wasn't sure about that, but it did make her feel a bit better.

    The last few weeks had been a blur to Masha. And in a lot of ways she was glad about that. Usually even she wasn't exactly happy about exams, but the stress of studying was better than what came over her when she had time to think about what had happened.

    She didn't remember many specifics about her brief stint in the guardhouse, or the insane rush that followed her classmates actually successfully breaking her out. It was mostly just a blur.

    Masha wasn't quite sure what to think about that. She wouldn't normally approve of lawless behavior like that, but, well…her imprisonment hadn't really been lawful either.

    It had also been a shock to see her group mates outside her cell.

    Outside of Ellia and Gaia, Masha hadn't gotten along all that well with the rest of her class. The nobles she was obviously wary of, even if they…actually weren't that bad, even Albarea had some guts, at the very least.

    Fion was a bit frustratingly lax about academics, Elisha was weird, and Emmet was annoyingly sure he knew better than everyone else.

    And yet…her group had hardly hesitated in jumping to her aid. Emmet had even carried her almost the whole way through the sewers–and Albarea had done it in a dress and heeled boots!

    Gah! Did she also have to be unfairly pretty?! At least she hasn't scored as well on the entrance exam.

    But…Schwarzer was right, she had really jumped to conclusions about them. Neither of them were spoiled, indolent products of nepotism. Heck, nor was Lawrence!

    As far as Masha knew he wasn't adopted or a bastard, so an actual blue blooded noble, but if you asked him to carry something heavy for you he'd do it without any hesitation. Not that she knew firsthand, or anything.

    And the girls…well…

    Schwarzer's mom had been killed by jaegers, apparently, after which she was adopted by a noble family for some reason, and Albarea…Julia, had lived as a commoner for much of her childhood.

    And wasn't that a shocking turn of events?

    Masha was almost tempted to call it a lie…but there was enough supporting evidence.

    Unlike a lot of the other nobles at the academy, Julia could cook, and as much as Masha hated to admit it, the Albarea was quite good at it. A noble's daughter being so comfortable with cooking, especially the daughter of a duke, was rather unusual (Irene was weird).

    Secondly, now that she had the benefit of hindsight, it was clear to Masha that Julia did not really view commoners as beneath her. Even some of the less pompous nobles, such as Instructor Altheim, tended to have a sort of air or superiority about them, or an expectation that they be taken as important for this or that coloring their interactions with the faculty and staff.

    Julia did not act that way. The blonde noble even entertained the town's children sometimes, and was a lot more familiar with them than expected. Though this was not exclusive to her, as getting a piggyback ride from Lawrence was a new favorite pastime for some of the kids.

    All the nobles in her class were a bit weird, now that Masha thought about it. And most of the commoners were from unusually influential families, with Elisha Reinford, Ellia, the daughter of General Craig, and herself being the daughter of the Imperial Governor. It made Emmet's skepticism about the qualifications for the class more reasonable.

    "Hey Masha…are you doing alright?"
    Masha blinked, realizing that she had been lost in thought.

    "I'm…sorry, Stephan, I was just thinking about something." She turned, remembering they were supposed to be cleaning up the chess club room, though apparently her clubmate had already finished doing that. "I apologize, I should have helped you with that."

    "It's fine," her fellow bespectacled student waved off. "Cleaning up chess boards isn't that hard and after trouncing that stuck up idiot I'd say you earned a break."

    That didn't give her the right to slack off, but there wasn't much she could really say, so Masha just nodded thankfully.

    She needed to get back to studying, to really take her mind off of things.

    Hopefully her classmates wouldn't be back at the dorms already, at least the louder ones. The library would be quieter, but it was busier this week than it had been before, and there were just too many people there for her to study comfortably.

    And as noisy as the boys in her class could be with their training…Masha really couldn't object about preparing for the practical exams. She had always known they would take place, but she had thought she was fairly in shape, and maybe that was even true, but she was way behind the rest of her class in that regard.

    In fairness, this was because her class was filled with exceptional people. Gaia had practically spent her life on horseback out on the Nord Highlands, Irene and Julia had been trained in sword fighting for years, Fion was a former jaeger, Elisha spent enough time turning wrenches to be quite strong, and Emmet and Lawrence were freaks of nature.

    The only person she was really comparable with was Ellia, and even she was getting a lot better with help from their classmates.

    It might have been different if Emmet hadn't scored higher than her, but Masha couldn't help but feel like she was out of her depth in this class sometimes.

    It was…not a great feeling.

    She had been at the top of her class in Sunday School, and it was quite a large one, given it was Heimdallr. But while the capital was the largest city in the empire, it wasn't that shocking that there were people from other parts of the country that were also as equally academically skilled as she was, even if she hadn't expected it to be a random boy from rural Sutherland (where had he even learned enough to be able to score so well?)

    Masha could handle no longer being the best at school.

    What was much more concerning was just how little that seemed to matter otherwise.

    None of the things she had studied could have prepared her for Duke Albarea's insanity, and yet her group mates had hardly batted an eye at potentially picking a fight with the Provincial Army. After seeing Lawrence fight some other people (not that she was spying on him or anything), Masha was fairly certain he could beat the average Provincial Army soldier, and she had been helpless in the same situation.

    But what could she do?

    She was decent with a gun, but nothing like Fion. It hadn't seemed that important before.

    "Masha? Are you alright?"

    Huh?! Was that-?
    "Dad?!"

    Masha snapped out of her thoughts, finally noticing the green haired man giving her a concerned look from just outside the chess club room.

    "What are you doing here?"

    Her father sighed fondly as she rushed over to hug him. "I did say I would continue to check on you last we met, didn't I?"

    On second thought, Masha did vaguely remember him saying that, but she had been in a sorry enough state then that it hadn't really registered at the time. "Sorry, dad. I don't want to get in the way of your work, you've got to be busy."

    Her father frowned. "While I do have much work to be done, I would be a poor father if I did not take the time to make sure you were doing alright at school occasionally, even without recent events." He smiled. "Besides, in some way, due to what happened, making sure you remain unharmed is also a political issue beyond my own duties as a father."

    "You…don't have to put it that way dad," Masha grumbled.

    "I suppose not," he chuckled, before his face turned serious. "Still, are you sure you are alright? You seem tired."
    "It's just from studying for the midterms," Masha brushed off, pulling back. "I don't plan on letting Emmet take the top score this time!"

    "You've mentioned this Mister Millstein quite a few times," her dad noted teasingly. "Should I be worried?"

    "It's not like that!" Masha denied, waving her arms furiously. "I'm just not letting him scoring better than me on the entrance exam stand!" She crossed her arms with a huff. "Besides, he and Albarea keep shamelessly flirting in a crude manner all the time." It was probably for the best that she wasn't getting that much attention that way, like what happened to Elsa.

    "You sound oddly disappointed about that," her father pointed out, narrowing his eyes.

    "Dad! I told you it wasn't like that!"

    "Though perhaps I should inform Rufus if his sister might be running into some kind of entanglement. She's done us a good turn by helping in getting you out of prison, and I would not want to see her get caught up in a scandal."

    Masha frowned. She didn't like Julia. The Albarea was still really annoying and far too smug all the time. But she did owe her one, and by Aidios she wouldn't wish that kind of mess on anyone. Though…

    "I don't think we need to be worried about that, dad," she sighed. "If they cause a scandal I'm pretty sure it won't be by accident, and they'd see the backlash coming."

    "Hmm…" her father hummed. "Perhaps." He shook his head as if to shake off some dark thoughts. "Enough about that, though. You mentioned studying for your midterms. Is there anything you feel I might be able to assist with?"

    "Oh yeah!" Masha perked up. "Our political economics teacher is a noble stick in the mud and I probably need your help figuring out how to make some real sense of his crap."

    She had spent a bit too much time that day spacing out than she was comfortable with, but her dad visiting did help make it better.

    Not to mention that she got to learn more from someone who actually had some real experience with political economics, unlike their whiny vice principal.

    When she had toured the club options at Thors, Paula had not expected to end up choosing the Riding Club. She had some experience with horses, having been to her uncle's farm a few times, but riding an old, even tempered draft horse was way different than the much more spirited Nord horses (seriously?!) Thors had on campus.

    Not that they were wild or anything, even Thors wasn't that crazy. Most of the horses were really nice, but the younger ones could get really excited when taken out for a gallop, and Paula had been pretty close to falling off a couple of times, mostly managing to stay on out of pure spite after seeing prissy Julia Albarea having no trouble with it.

    Ok, that was probably a bit unfair. Julia wasn't that prissy.

    She was a bit "better than you" in how she acted, but more in the "I'm actually better than you at this" then the "my daddy's rich so that makes me better than you" kind of way.

    It was still kinda annoying, but Paula had to begrudgingly admit that her yearmate was a lot better at horses than she was.

    And well, when you got to know her, Julia really wasn't that bad.

    The noble girl could be a bit stuffy and condescending at times, but she had a sense of humor, and didn't freak out about getting dirty from working with the horses or anything.

    Not to mention she was a lot less weird than Lambert. The Club Captain kept talking to his favorite horse like it was his kid or brother or something, Julia at least treated the horses like horses!

    Though today was a bit different, since Gaia had decided to join them for a bit. When asked why, the tall Nord girl had just said she'd had enough of the Literature club for a while, then refused to elaborate further, not that Paula blamed her. Those girls were weird.

    Julia had idly joked one day that the only thing that could get Lambert to shut up about Whitcomb would be a girl who was also a horse, and well…Paula didn't want to be rude or anything, but Gaia was probably the closest thing…

    "My word! I knew you were born in the saddle but it is a sight to behold!" Lambert cried. "Whitcomb has never been so comfortable with another person as long as I've known him!"

    "I was born in a tent, not in a saddle," Gaia replied, an amused smile on her face. "And haven't you only known Whitcomb for around two years? I've known him since he was foaled."

    Lambert looked taken aback. "Truly?! I should have known, now that I think about it. He seemed rather familiar with you. Did Whitcomb being here contribute to your decision to attend this school?"

    Gaia shot Paula a questioning look, to which the brown haired girl returned a flat nod. Yes, Lambert never shut up about his horse.

    "Not especially," the Nord girl replied. "Though it was certainly a pleasant surprise to see a familiar face, so to speak. I knew some of our horses had been sold to Erebonians, but it had not occurred to me that they might end up in the same place I was going."

    "Truly, fate must have brought you together again!" Lambert exclaimed, a dopey grin on his face.

    "The Wind moves in unexpected directions," Gaia mused, "and yet something it seems as if it always returns to the same place."

    "I…am not quite sure what you mean," the equestrian club captain hummed. "Regardless, are you sure you still do not wish to join our club? Whitcomb and the others will be overjoyed to have you visit more often!"

    "I think you're the one who's more interested in her," Paula muttered under her breath, noting that the horse in question seemed content to graze, ignoring the noisy humans. Sure, he did seem to like Gaia quite a lot, but he was still a horse.

    "Sometimes I do find that idea quite tempting," the Nord girl sighed. "Some of the literature club members are…rather narrow minded on their selection of reading material."

    Paula snorted. That was a nice way of putting it. That Dorothy girl was a total creep on top of being a weirdo.

    "Well, if you ever feel the desire, the Riding Club will always be open to you!" Lambert offered eagerly, for the upteenth time.

    For crying out loud, just ask the girl out if you like her so much!

    "It does remind me a bit of home," Gaia hummed. "Though there isn't nearly as much open space as I am used to."

    "Ah yes…" Lambert sighed. "The wide plains of the Nord Highlands, a wonderful place where a horse can run to their heart's content! I do wish to see it one day."

    "You need not make it sound like a far off dream," Gaia pointed out. "While it is indeed a long journey–near a full day's travel by train–but it is a far easier trip now than it once was."

    Lambert stared at her for a moment before breaking into laughter. "I'd suppose you'd know, ha!"

    "My memory is good enough for that, yes," the tall girl noted, "But that aside, if you truly did wish to visit the Highlands, it would be possible. My clan sees visitors from Erebonia come by on a fairly regular basis."

    "Hmm…perhaps I should plan a trip…perhaps on the school break…" Lambert hummed.

    "If you do, why not bring Whitcomb along?" Gaia suggested, patting the horse in question affectionately. "I imagine you would like seeing your birthplace again, no?"

    Whitcomb huffed, something Gaia and Lambert seemed to take as a yes, though Paula had no idea how.

    Goddess, she was starting to wish Julia was here, then at least she'd have someone to commiserate in the awkwardness.

    The horse she was riding shifted uncomfortably. Oh yeah, guess she was getting a bit restless.

    Paula urged her horse away from her club captain and the Nord girl. Those two were hopeless.

    As much as Julia liked riding horses, the midterm exams were quickly approaching, and while she was unlikely to fail, it wouldn't do to achieve a score less than her station demanded. Or more specifically, it was fun to rub her higher scores in stuck up people's faces.

    Unfortunately, she wasn't the top of her class, and as annoying as Regnitz and Emmet could be, she had to give them due credit.

    Regnitz really studied a lot, but Julia had never seen Emmet in the library at all. In fact, she hardly ever saw him outside of class. Either way, they both had some impressive brains, though Julia wasn't quite ready to admit defeat yet. It had only been one exam after all.

    Though now that she thought about it…what did Emmet get up to in his free time? It wasn't like he was a shut-in who stayed in his room all the time, you couldn't get the instincts he had by doing that. The really only other thing she knew he was up to for sure was the Occult Research Club, and Julia had no idea what went on there.

    She…wasn't entirely sure she wanted to.

    It wasn't as if she really cared what he got up to.

    There was a knock on her door, but no voice called out.

    Julia frowned. It wasn't Irene, the person who typically would be looking for her–too heavy handed. Nor was it Lawrence, he'd announce himself.

    Too quiet to be any annoying suitor though, and it was unlikely anyone who wished her ill would knock politely, so Julia rose from her seat, strode over to her door and opened it a crack to see…

    Emmet holding a pot?

    A rather hot one, given the steam and the oven mitts.

    "Can I help you, Emmet?" Julia asked, sufficiently perplexed by what she was seeing for her manners to slip (then again, it was Emmet, not like he cared).

    "You could take this off my hands," he grunted, not looking her in the eye.

    "So, you want me to take the obviously steaming hot pot from you with my bare hands?" Julia drawled, smirking slightly. "Top of the class, everyone."

    "I could have used a better figure of speech," Emmet admitted, rolling his eyes, "but I doubt the gap in mental capacity between first and third place is large enough for you not to understand what I meant."

    "Ah, so this pot is a gift for me?!" Julia gasped theatrically, clapping her hands together and tilting her head sideways with an obviously faux cheer. "Is it poisoned? No, perhaps laced with something…questionable?"

    "Salt, herbs, butter, potatoes…" Emmet listed off drily. "Do those count as questionable?"

    Julia blinked. "You made chowder?" Now that she focused on it, the scent from the pot was familiar. Achingly so. "How…?" She grit her teeth to suppress the sudden swell of old hurt.

    "My grandmother is a terrible cook," Emmet grunted. "So I had to learn if I didn't want to starve…or have my teeth rot off."

    "I…see. Though that wasn't what I was curious about," Julia replied carefully. "My uncle is a chef, don't you remember? I know there are men who can cook."

    "Then what do you want to know?"

    "Where you learned…" Julia paused, realizing she may have answered her own question. "Did my uncle teach you my mom's old recipe?"

    "Yes," Emmet replied, "and he seemed disappointed you had to miss the meal he prepared, and I owe you one, so…" he shrugged.

    "You're still hung up on that?" Julia muttered, doing her best to keep her voice steady. "I told you we made it for the fun of it, and were probably not going to finish the stew entirely anyways." She had not expected to feel this way.

    "Just take the chowder," Emmet groused, his face twitching in embarrassment, though he didn't blush. He never did, now that she thought about it.

    "How about you set it down on the table here?" Julia laughed, opening her door fully and waving him inside.

    Her purple haired classmate walked in, setting the pot down on top of the small table in the room.

    Belatedly, Julia realized she had just invited a boy into her room, something her brother specifically forbade her from doing, and the thought almost made her laugh.

    "What?" Emmet grunted, picking up on her amused expression.

    "Oh, if my brother could see us now, he would be infuriated," she huffed.

    "I take it he is not a fan of chowder, then? What, too pedestrian for him?"

    "Ha!" Julia laughed. "No, no, Rufus would eat a shoe if I asked him to, not that I would." Emmet gave her an unconvinced look. "I would not!"

    "Sure," he brushed off, setting a bowl and a spoon down on the table, before standing up straight again and walking towards the door.

    "And where do you think you're going?" Julia tutted.

    "Out," Emmet replied, though he did pause and glance back at her.

    "Come now! You should at least have some of the food you made. I don't believe I can eat all of this, and it won't do to let it get cold."

    "I'm sure you'll manage," Emmet returned.

    "Are you insinuating I'm a glutton?" Julia sniffed indignantly.

    "You said it, not me," he shot back with a shrug. "Besides, I only brought one bowl."

    "Then we can share," Julia joked, receiving a flat, unimpressed stare from her purple haired classmate.

    "If you really can't eat all of it, just share with someone else," Emmet grumbled. "I'm sure Lawrence could eat the whole thing, pot included, if he wanted to."

    Julia suppressed a snort of laughter. "He might succeed if he tried, but he isn't that stupid."

    "True," Emmet conceded. "He is a lot smarter than he seems, so I'll leave you two to it."

    Julia sighed, closing her eyes briefly in frustration. Was it really that hard for him to accept some appreciation for this gesture? She didn't know how Emmet figured it out, but she had been rather disappointed that she had missed a bite of nostalgia.

    It wouldn't have been right to express it after the mess that had happened, and it wasn't like she could tell–

    Actually, why the hell not?

    "I don't think you realize how much this means to me," she voiced aloud tentatively. Was it for the first time?

    "Likely not," Emmet acknowledged, his face in an…uncharacteristically soft expression. "But I believe I have some idea."

    Oh, right, the flowers!

    "Did…you lose your mom too?" Julia whispered.

    "Yeah," Emmet said softly.

    "Oh."

    "Now that I think about it, isn't that the case for a significant portion of our class?" Emmet noted absently. "You, me, Irene, Lawrence, Fion…"

    Julia couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. It wasn't funny, but the absurdity of it got to her. "At this point it almost feels like a requirement for this class."

    "Can't be," Emmet countered. "Elisha's mother is very much alive."

    "Fair, Gaia still has her mom, and Irene has Lady Schwarzer as an adopted mother."

    The two of them paused, wondering why they had decided to go down this macabre line of discussion.

    "Gehenna's Bells," Emmet sighed, rubbing his face. "I just wanted to drop off the damn chowder, not think about my mother."

    Julia winced. It had probably been unavoidable because of why he had made the chowder to begin with, but she could have just taken it.

    She took the lid off the pot and filled the bowl Emmet had brought, and before her dour classmate could leave, she placed the steaming bowl in his hands.

    "What–"

    "Have some," Julia insisted. "If I'm going to pretend it was mom's, she'd want you to have some."

    "I don't–"

    "I will feed you it myself if you keep resisting!"

    Emmet raised an eyebrow at her outburst, and Julia felt her face flush. Dammit Irene! Stop infecting her with the motheringness too!

    "Do you propose we share the bowl, then?" Emmet asked drily.

    "No, don't worry, I have my own set," Julia sighed.

    "Why didn't you start with that?!"

    "I was going to but you started to leave!"

    "How was I supposed to know you would want to feed it to me?!"

    "What was I supposed to think?! I can't eat this much!"

    They continued bickering as they ate. Julia didn't know why Emmet kept humoring her, but if she hadn't had something to distract her from how close his cooking matched her mom's, she might have started crying.

    This…was not what she expected, but it was…nice.
    AN. Sorry it took so long to get this sorted out, the last month has not been great for writing.
     
  • Sidestory
    • 14. Trials of Mind and Spirit
  • Threadmarks
    • Trials of Mind and Spirit​

    True to her friends' estimations, the amount of work passing through the Student Council did decrease as studying became the most common activity among the students. This was a blessing in many ways, but also meant that Irene had more time to worry about exams herself.

    As it turned out, she needn't have been so concerned, as her study group from St. Astraia reformed naturally. Julia and Bridget had usually scored higher than her, but Irene had only been a few places behind her auburn-haired classmate on the entrance exam, so she would try her best to make up the difference this time!

    Friedel stopped by occasionally to give them some tips, and Theresia did as well, though she had to leave to wrangle her much less academically inclined club captain, so as the exams closed in, Irene felt about as ready as she thought she would ever be.

    Julia looked as poised as she usually did in public, but Irene knew her friend well enough to see the signs of fatigue as she closed her textbook.

    "Feeling prepared, Lady Albarea?" Bridget asked, a small smile pulling at her lips. "It seems like this year you have quite the competition."

    "I'm not terribly concerned about placing first," Julia replied with a snort. "As much as seeing Regnitz's shocked face would be entertaining, unlike her, I do have a life outside of the classroom."

    "I'm sure Regnitz does as well," Bridget pointed out.

    "She is a member of the Lower Class Chess Club," Irene offered helpfully.

    "Though she isn't your only competition, is she?"

    "Millstein did score the highest on the entrance exam."

    "Hah! Beating him would be quite entertaining," Julia admitted, swirling her tea idly. "Though that might be difficult, since he seems to be even more of a shut in than Regnitz."

    Irene frowned. Emmet really did seem to make himself scarce aside from class, but something told her that he wasn't studying all the time. He was too good at fighting for that.

    "Well, he's in the Occult Research Club," Bridget mused, "though I heard he doesn't actually spend much time there after a few girls joined the club to get closer to him or to get their fortunes read."

    "I can't fault him for that," Julia chuckled. "Overeager fans can be quite annoying."

    "In that case…what does he do in his spare time?" Irene wondered. "Surely he isn't studying the whole time. Well, I guess he does spar with the other boys in our class on occasion."

    "Can I just say how unfair it is that you have four of the most interesting boys in our year in your class?" Bridget interjected impishly, covering her sly grin with one hand. "Not only do you have Lawrence, you also have the Reinford heir, the mysterious, tall, dark and handsome, and the cute little brother. The most interesting boy in my class might be Kenneth!"

    'W-what does she mean by that?'

    "What can I say? Like attracts like," Julia retorted with a smirk.

    "Oh? I know you and Lawrence are close," Bridget giggled, "has someone else stolen your attention? Perhaps a certain purple haired rapscallion? Hyarms must be distraught."

    "Don't be absurd," Julia huffed with a roll of her eyes. "Millstein can be cordial despite how prickly he is, but we all know he isn't a feasible option."

    "Didn't you mention that Emmet made chowder for you?" Irene added curiously. "You still didn't explain what that was all about." 'Even if Duke Albarea would never agree to it, that doesn't mean there won't be any feelings.'

    "He made you your favorite food?!" Bridget exclaimed, covering her mouth in exaggerated surprise. "And he can cook?! Wow, this is more serious than I thought!"

    "It's nothing of the sort," Julia denied, face settling into a frown. "I know what it sounds like, but it really wasn't anything so…please drop it."

    Irene blinked, sharing a glance with her auburn haired friend. Julia was usually more than happy to make light of her situation, so what made this different?

    "Alright, I won't joke about it then," Bridget conceded apologetically. "I didn't know it was serious in another way."

    "Appreciated." Julia accepted. "Besides, whatever happened to your childhood friend? Alan, wasn't it?"

    Bridget frowned, looking down. "I hadn't seen him for about a year when school started, so I was glad to meet him again, and at first he also seemed happy to spend time together, but ever since he lost to Hyarms at fencing, he's refused to talk with me."

    "Well, if he can't get over his male pride, that's his loss," Julia sniffed, drinking the last of her tea.

    "Julia."

    Julia sighed, setting down her tea cup. "Apologies, that was a bit rude. Still…" she looked at Bridget, "you have not done anything to offend him, correct?"

    "Not that I am aware of."

    "In that case, it is something on his end that he needs to sort out."

    "I figured out that much," Bridget sighed, giving Julia a light glare. "And I've given him a couple months to sort it out, but it only seems to be getting worse."

    Irene had heard her auburn haired friend talk about Alan a few times, but it wasn't as if she knew him personally. Though thinking about what she did know about him…

    "Isn't Alan friends with Lawrence?" Irene pointed out. "If Alan is having issues in the Fencing Club I'm sure Lawrence would be willing to help."

    "That…may work," Bridget considered, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Lawrence can beat Friedel, so if there is anyone who can help Alan with fencing it would probably be him."

    "Lawrence is very helpful in regards to the martial arts," Irene agreed with a nod. Sparring with him was always insightful, even if she was usually quite sore afterwards.

    "Oh my, you may be in trouble, Julia," Bridget giggled, "she's only known him for a couple months and has already shot ahead of everyone else!"

    "W-What do you mean?" Irene asked hesitantly, sensing an awkward turn in the conversation.

    "Indeed!" Julia's smirk did not help Irene's unease at all. "Irene here tried to mother something about three times her size, and it even worked!"

    "M-Mother?" Irene squeaked.

    "'Tis a shame, I thought Lawrence looked pretty cool wearing his jacket like a cape," Bridget laughed.

    "We thought Lawrence would only be interested in anyone skilled in martial arts," Julia added, "but it turns out he has a soft spot for the motherly sort too."

    "Um…is that so strange? He seems to miss his mother," Irene pointed out.

    Julia and Bridget looked at her sharply, before glancing back at each other consideringly.

    "Huh, I really should have noticed that earlier," Julia muttered. "Perhaps Emmet was onto something about our class being powered by sacrificed mothers."

    "What?!"

    "Julia!"

    "Don't look at me! Blame whoever arranged the classes!"

    They did not manage to get any more studying done after that.

    The next day, the exams began, continuing for several days, and with it came dreary weather that matched the mood of many students, in some cases the rain 'disguised the tears of anguish from those less prepared'. While Irene was quite sure Julia was being melodramatic, the sentiment was true.

    On the other hand, due to the student body being focused on the exams, the Student Council was fairly free, so a part of Irene couldn't help but wish the exams were a bit more frequent, not that she voiced such treacherous thoughts aloud.

    Still, the stress aside, Irene felt fairly confident in her performance. The exams were certainly difficult, and she likely did not do so well on the topics she was less familiar with, such as military tactics, but the study groups she had been a part of seemed to have helped quite a bit, as she did not find herself stuck aside from in a few cases.

    Amusingly enough, the end of exams coincided with a break in the rainy weather, so as Class VII returned to their dormitory, the sky was clear and the weather was warm, as if congratulating them on getting through their tests.

    Most of the class made their way back together, though Gaia was called away by Instructor Valestein while Lawrence was sorting something out at the Fencing Club. Emmet, as usual, had disappeared.

    "Whew! I thought that would never end!" Ellia cried jubilantly. "Free at last!"

    "Until the results are posted," Elisha pointed out.

    "Hush! Let me have this!"

    "I can relate a bit," Masha chuckled. "Though I'm a bit nervous about the results myself, even if I feel fairly confident."

    "After all that studying you did, I would hope so," Julia quipped, throwing her a sly glance. "How many times did you scream at the boys to stop making a racket downstairs, again?"

    "Oh don't you get me started!" Masha shot back, though without much real heat. "Not all of us can go to the Noble lounge or Upper Class Dormitories so we can study in peace!"

    "That is a nice benefit of being a noble student," Julia agreed, flipping her hair airily. "Some nice peace and quiet is wonderful for the complexion."

    "But…we mostly studied in the library and the gymnasium?" Irene chimed in. "We only met in the Upper Class dorms that time Ferris had to take a bath after lacrosse."

    "Ehehe…that might have been my bad," Ellia chuckled nervously. "The practice field was muddy from all the rain and I might have tackled her into a wet spot?"

    "Good hit then," Fion complimented, giving her a thumbs up. "You should do it again."

    "Fion!"

    "Maybe not then."

    "I dunno, I studied in the engineering building and it was pretty quiet," Elisha chimed in. "Not that many people going in there when they're busy with exams."

    "I think you're just deaf because you keep blowing yourself up," Masha groused.

    "Nope," Elisha denied. "I got it tested too."

    "Right…"

    "On another note, what do you all make of our instructor's comments?" Julia hummed mischievously. "A weekend trip out of town?"

    "Eh?! Do you mean she might be meeting her l-l-lover?!" Ellia squeaked, clapping her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to hide how red they were turning.

    "Is there even a man out there who would go for a woman like her?" Masha questioned, looking vaguely disgusted at the thought.

    "Yes," Fion declared without any further elaboration.

    "I mean, she looks good enough," Elisha considered, "and if she's looking to get drunk there'll definitely be people out there who would take her up on that offer."

    "Elisha!"

    "What?!"

    "Problem is she's too romantic," Fion countered with a shrug. "She likes older widowers who loved their dead wives. Except, she isn't their dead wife."

    The group paused to stare at the silver haired boy, who stared back at them curiously. "What?"

    "That…was not what I expected from such an alcoholic whirligig…" Julia muttered.

    "I-I'm sure there is someone out there for her," Irene murmured. "Though maybe she needs to tone down the drinking a bit first."

    "Didn't she dump a bunch of work on you because you're too nice to say no?" Elisha asked. "You're being pretty charitable. If she really did get a hot date doesn't that mean she's basically dumping more work on other people? From what I know, most of the work for teachers comes after the exam, not before."

    "Maybe it's something to do with our field studies?" Irene suggested. "Sometimes she does things that look strange but are actually related to the curriculum in a more oblique way."

    "Maybe…" Ellia frowned, glancing around the group. "By the way, does anyone know where Gaia went?"

    "Oh, the principal wanted to talk with her," Elisha replied. "Doubt she's in any trouble since if she was it'd probably be my fault."

    "Well at least you are self aware," Julia muttered, looking amused.

    "Oh…I was kind of hoping we could all walk back as a class together," Ellia murmured, looking down at the road.

    "I mean…we could walk back and wait for her," Elisha suggested, "though I don't know where Emmet or Lawrence went."

    "No, it's fine, we're almost there, anyways," Ellia sighed.

    True enough, the group had just passed the train station, and their dormitory was just down the street.

    As they approached their lodgings, a light voice greeted them.

    "Welcome back, Master Elisha."

    Class VII paused as a lavender haired maid curtsied politely to them from just outside the door to their dormitory. Now that she thought about it, Irene remembered that there was some paperwork that had passed Towa's desk about their dorm, something about a caretaker?

    'Still…how come I couldn't sense her presence?'

    "Sharon!" Elisha cried, rushing up the steps, and to everyone's surprise, swept the maid up in an enthusiastic hug, picking up the shorter woman and spinning her around a full rotation. "It's great to see you again!"

    "It is wonderful to see you again as well, Master Elisha," the maid replied happily, completely unruffled by being manhandled.

    "Though…I got to ask," Elisha began, setting her down gently in the same spot she had been standing in previously. "What exactly are you doing here? I thought the Boss Lady would have you running around doing other stuff?"

    "Well, under the chairman's instructions, I will be taking over the role of caretaker for Class VII's dormitory," Sharon explained with a slight smile.

    "Ah, I did see the paperwork for that," Irene murmured, "though I didn't realize it was going to be staff from one of our families."

    "Oh yeah, this is Sharon Kreuger," Elisha introduced, waving at his maid like she was some novel and interesting machine. "She's our family maid, and also the person to whom my mother outsourced all of her maternal functions."

    "Master Elisha!" Sharon cried chidingly. "Your mother does care about your well being, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

    "About as much as I can expect," the Reinford heir shrugged.

    "Ehem, like Master Elisha said, I am Sharon Kreuger," the maid introduced herself properly, "and if you have anything you need for, please inform me, and I will do my best to take care of it."

    "Wow…the Reinfords have a maid and they aren't even nobles," Ellia murmured, eyes wide.

    "That's fairly common among rich commoners too," Elisha noted. "They've got a tendency to make really big houses they can't clean themselves, so they pay people to do it instead."

    "Oh, I guess that makes sense," the ginger haired girl mumbled.

    "Why are you talking like you aren't a rich person?" Masha grumbled.

    "Well, my family's rich, but I don't control any of that, really, and I'm pretty sure our house is mostly for decoration."

    'What does he mean by that? Wait, that's probably not something we should talk about in public.'

    "Have you already taken a look at the kitchen?" Irene asked Miss Kreuger, trying to change the subject. "We do have some ingredients stocked, but not enough for a proper meal."

    "Yeah, after the exams, I am not really in the mood to cook," Julia added.

    "Hmm, I did wonder who had created that neat little selection of ingredients," Sharon hummed. "You have my thanks, Lady Schwarzer, Lady Albarea, but please, let me take care of things from now on."

    "Of course, they would be familiar with this," Masha grumbled grumpily, though she did not make any further comment.

    'But we don't actually have full time maids back home.'

    "That said, I did take the liberty of acquiring more groceries," Sharon continued, "so if you give me some time, I will have dinner ready for the whole class, if you would like."

    "Sounds great!" Elisha agreed. "The exams made me hungry."

    "I will get right on that then, Master Elisha," Sharon said with a smile.

    And what a meal it was.

    Somehow, Sharon managed to put together a several course meal for the whole class within the span of two hours, a feat that had Irene and Julia in awe.

    It was not rushed either, as the food was excellent. Irene would still say her mother's cooking was better, but she had to admit this was more likely mostly due to her knowing what her daughter's particular tastes were.

    "Damn, you ate this all the time, Elisha?" Fion remarked around a mouthful of food. He looked like he wanted to say more, but a chiding look from Irene made him close his mouth and chew.

    "Well, not all the time," Elisha replied. "A lot of the times when I was working on stuff I just asked her to make me sandwiches or something."

    "Lucky bastard," Fion grumbled, before shoveling more food into his mouth.

    "It is always a pleasure to serve, Master Elisha," Sharon chirped, smiling at the group. "And from what I have heard, I owe some of you thanks for making sure this foolish young man didn't starve himself in his forgetfulness."

    "Hey! I'm not that bad!" Elisha objected.

    "You are." Fion grunted.

    "I do not believe you were in actual danger of starving," Lawrence chuckled, "but your maid being concerned about you skipping meals seems warranted."

    "Yeah! Didn't you forget to eat while studying for exams?" Ellia chimed in cheerfully.

    "You drank all the coffee we had," Masha grumbled.

    "Oi! What is this? Gang up on me day?" the blond Reinford grumbled.

    "Master Elisha," Sharon hummed dangerously. "I believe we have already had this discussion before."

    "Yeah, yeah, I've been working on it. I haven't actually skipped meals…just forgot to eat them at the usual time."

    "You would let my cooking go cold?!"

    "I'm sorry, ok!"

    The class had quite a lot of amusement at Elisha's expense, but he seemed to take it in with good humor, even if he did look legitimately embarrassed for once. It seemed that his quip about Sharon being more of a mother to him was rather literal.

    On second thought, Irene didn't know what she expected, this was Elisha, after all.

    She glanced over to where Julia was being uncharacteristically quiet, and found her friend looking down at her plate with a wistful expression.

    From what Julia said of her childhood, she had admired her uncle's cooking ability, and had learned a bit of how to do so from him, as well as her departed mother. Perhaps this kind of meal made her nostalgic?

    While Irene took some pride in her cooking, she could admit that Sharon was better in this field. Maybe she would be willing to share some tips later?

    Overall, it was quite a pleasant reward for a week's exams, and she went to sleep feeling more relaxed than she had been for a while.


    The next morning, Irene hurried over to the Student Council room and hashed out the tasks she needed to complete for the day.

    Again true to Towa's words, the conclusion of the midterms saw several second year council members returning to their normal duties and Irene was finally able to see President Herschel in proper form as she presided over their meeting.

    Among the salient topics was the assignment of the various requests submitted over the past week. To Irene's relief, with more people, the amount of work she would have to do decreased quite a bit. Unfortunately, the more typical tasks were doled out quickly, leaving her with two of the more unusual ones.

    One of the requests was from Lord Vincent Florald, despite him being a council member himself. He asked for assistance determining the identity of the anonymous lady who had left him a Grand Rose with a coy note attached, which Irene had been assigned because she was apparently the only proper noblewoman on the council (Lady Rogner apparently did not count?), and the other one was a request from the Engineering Club about testing a new machine. That was assigned to Irene because she was supposedly the only one who could keep Elisha from doing something crazy.

    Irene didn't think that Elisha was going to ask her to do anything too dangerous, but she couldn't really blame the other council members for being a bit nervous about that.

    She wasn't really sure where to start with these tasks, but they were requested, so she would seek to resolve them!

    "Is something the matter, Irene?" Towa asked, leaning over to look at the requests her junior ws considering.

    "I was just thinking about these requests," Irene replied. "I feel like someone else might have been better suited to them since I don't know very much about engineering, and it is not as if being somewhat familiar with courtship in general makes me better at investigating."

    "Oh, I'm sure you'll do fine!" Towa said encouragingly, reaching up and patting her sitting junior on the head.

    "Eh?!"

    "George and Angie said that someone who doesn't know much about the technical details is fine, so you should be ok there," the diminutive president went on, "and you know a bunch of noble girls, right? So one of them probably knows who sent Vincent the rose."

    "That is true, President," Irene sighed. "But I feel a bit bad running these trivial errands when the amount of work we have to do has increased again after the exams."

    "Oh, don't worry about that! I can handle that, especially now that everyone is back on board!"

    "Miss Herschel, I make your coffee," Irene remarked cheekily, "you are drinking more coffee after the exams."

    "W-Well…that's because I have more time to drink coffee now!"

    "Really, Miss President, you do enough already. You should delegate more of your tasks to the people who are picking up more duties after the midterms." Irene frowned. "Don't think I failed to pick up how most of them tried to pick easier tasks to handle, aside from Lotte. This is also how I ended up with the task that had them concerned about their personal safety, and the one that requires more interacting with Lord Florald. Oh, not to mention Lady Rogner."

    "Angie isn't that bad…"

    "And yet we receive periodical complaints about her despite her high status usually dissuading people from doing so." Irene sighed. "I know she is your friend, but would it be too difficult to request she…restrain herself a bit more?"

    Towa frowned. "I…don't think that would work."

    "I suppose if it could be done, her father would have found a way by now," Irene mused, before shaking her head. "But that's beside the point."

    She stood up from her chair, examining the Student Council President's face for signs of fatigue, spotting the slight bags under her eyes. "You really should give more tasks to the other members, President Herschel. You already look quite tired."

    "Oh, don't worry about me! I'm perfectly fine!"

    "Just…please consider what I said."

    "A-Alright…just don't push yourself too hard, ok Irene?"

    "I'm not!"

    After speaking with Lord Florald (and managing to talk him down from assuming she was the one who sent him the rose), Irene was able to look at the note.

    Interestingly, while Florald had interpreted it as a confession note, Irene wasn't quite so sure.

    The note simply read: 'Have fun, I will be watching, Florald.'

    This might mean that the person who delivered it to him was expecting him to use it for courting, rather than there being any romantic intention in this drop off itself.

    That still did not give her any insight into the identity of the gifter, so Irene went with her original plan of asking Jane the florist.

    The woman had been rather hesitant to disclose any of the girls who had purchased a rose from her, but a hint that it would potentially help a budding romance bloom changed her tune almost instantly.

    Unfortunately, Irene could rule out most of the named girls, as the chances of Rosine or Beryl doing such a thing were virtually nil. Vivi…might try something of the sort, but Irene was quite certain the artistic handwriting on the note was beyond the impish twin.

    How troublesome.
    "Hey Schwarzer!"

    Irene blinked, turning to see Margarita Dresden waving at her from across the park. A step behind her was Fion, who made an attempt to do the same, despite the number of shopping bags he was carrying.

    "Dresden? Fion?"

    "Hey boss."

    "Saw you talking to Jane," Dresden declared, "so I was wondering if you were interested in flowers for a…" she trailed off with a grin, "specific purpose. Making a move on Lawrence, are you?"

    "I-I don't know what you mean," Irene denied, doing her best not to let her voice squeak in embarrassment, to limited success, judging by Dresden's widening grin.

    "Not there yet, then?" the brazen girl hummed with a shrug. "Eh, it's early, anyway. But still, if you want some fancy flowers, I can get some for you with better discretion, if you know what I mean."

    Wait…

    "Did…you give Lord Florald a grand rose?"

    "Lord Florald?" Margarita snorted. "No, not that I know of, he hasn't requested one from me."

    "From your tone, does that mean you provided Lady Florald one?" Irene pressed. "Could it be that her brother picked up the rose by mistake? The note did not specify which one it was for."

    "Aww…Hell's Bells!" Margarita sighed, smacking herself in the face. "Of course that fop would be dumb enough to think a girl would give his pompous ass flowers."

    "T-That's a bit rude, isn't it?" Irene sputtered indignantly. Vincent Florald was a bit frustrating to deal with, but he was largely harmless.

    "Eh, I guess, but he is quite annoying," Margarita replied shamelessly. "I should probably go and clear things up, it'll be funny to see how reacts to his sister asking for a rose."

    "What about discretion?" Fion pipped up.

    "Nah, this'll be funnier!" The blonde noblewomen (there were quite a few of them, weren't there?) ran off with a manic grin on her face, and Irene felt some pity for Lord Florald, even if she was glad the situation seemed to be resolved.

    "Poor guy."

    "I feel bad for Ferris," Irene murmured. "This is going to be so embarrassing for her…though I do wonder why she requested a grand rose."

    "Don't girls like flowers?" Fion wondered.

    "In many cases, yes, but it is a bit unusual to buy a grand rose for yourself," Irene explained. "It's usually for decoration, or a gift, often with romantic intentions, so getting yourself one is…"

    "Kinda weird."

    "Yes."

    "Huh."

    Irene turned to her silver haired classmate, who seemed deep in thought. "Is something the matter, Fion?"

    "What do flowers taste like?" he wondered, and Irene's eyes widened in concern.

    "You haven't tried eating flowers, have you?! Many of them are poisonous!"

    "Wait, really?" Fion mumbled. "Why do people like getting poisonous plants as gifts then?"
    "Because flowers look nice," Irene sighed. "So people usually don't eat them."

    "...so there are flowers that can be eaten…"

    Irene gave her young classmate an unimpressed look. "Yes, some flowers can be eaten."

    "Do they taste good?"

    "If done well."

    "...Could you show me?" Fion asked, waving his bags slightly, resulting in a clang of metal on metal.

    "Did you buy cooking supplies?" Irene asked, eying the pot shaped outlines in the bag.

    "Yeah, cooking's fun. Wanted to try some more myself, and Margarita helped me get more stuff."

    "That was nice of her," Irene hummed, wondering whether Fion was short on money or Lady Dresden was simply feeling generous.

    "Yeah, she's fun," Fion agreed. "A little bit too pyro though…we should probably make sure she and Elisha don't become friends."

    "Oh dear…" Irene trailed off as she imagined the two destructive blonds collaborating.

    "Yeah…" Fion grunted, before letting out an inquisitive noise. "Does the flower shop have not-poisonous flowers?"

    "Oh! Yes, but that is not a great place to get ingredients," Irene replied, snapping out of visions of doom. "Why don't we go to Brandon's?"

    She spent some time giving Fion some cooking tips, and he seemed to appreciate it. Now if only he stopped being so intrigued about the idea of eating flowers.

    While she had a bit more confidence in Elisha than the other Student Council members had, Irene still felt mild trepidation at what exactly their request entailed. Hopefully George would be able to keep them from anything too crazy.

    The two wheeled orbal vehicle the group had with them wasn't really encouraging, and Towa was there as well for some reason. Her scruffy looking friend (Crow, wasn't it?) was there too.

    "Excuse me," Irene coughed as she approached them. "It looks like you already have a pretty sizable group, why did you ask for more testers?"

    "Idiot proofing!" Elisha declared.

    "…Pardon me?" Irene asked slowly, trying her best to not feel offended.

    "Don't phrase it like that, you moron!" Crow hissed.

    "Ease of use testing then!" Yes, it was Elisha being tactless again.

    "They just wanted to see if someone could drive it on their first try, Irene," Towa amended hastily.

    "…I see…" Irene didn't. "Why are the rest of you here, though?"

    "Well, this machine was kind of my idea, Schwarzer," Lady Rogner explained.

    "And it's kind of my baby!" Crow chimed in.

    "You rode it like, twice," Elisha pointed out. "If it's your kid then you're a deadbeat dad."

    "Oof!" the gray haired youth clutched his chest as if shot. "You didn't have to do me like that, Eli!"

    "What? It's true!"

    "Well, they appear to be good friends," Irene murmured to President Herschel, who looked torn between trying to corral the group and joining in.

    "Yep!" Towa chirped. "Elisha was already friends with Angie, and is friends with George through the Engineering club, and Crow was friends with them."

    "It's a good thing," Irene mused. "Elisha could use more normal friends."

    "Normal?" Towa wondered, eying the bickering group skeptically.

    "More normal," Irene amended, before giving her superior a curious glance. "Though, if I may ask, why are you here? Did you decide to complete this task yourself?"

    "Oh! No–well I could if you want!" the short girl stammered, waving her hands furiously. "But I just decided to actually take a break like you said, and my friends happened to be testing this! Honest!"

    "Hmm…acceptable," Irene conceded, looking back at the orbal…bicycle? It had two wheels.

    "Oh yeah, we should get that started," Elisha realized. "Sorry about that, Irene."

    "It was no trouble." Irene smiled back. "I'm sure Miss Kreuger will be happy to know you're making friends."

    "She was! How did you know?!" Elisha exclaimed.

    "I think everyone knows you are bad at socializing, Eli," Lady Rogner snorted.

    "And whose fault is that, fists for brains?!"

    "Ehem! The bike, everyone!" Towa cried.

    "Yeah, I'm getting to that," Elisha grunted, walking over to the machine. "You ever ride a bicycle, Irene?"

    "I have not," she replied, "the terrain around Ymir is not exactly conducive to bicycles, or most vehicles for that matter."

    "Point. That makes this harder to explain."

    "You've ridden a horse before, right Schwarzer?" Lady Rogner chimed in.

    Irene nodded.

    "There's some similarity there," the purple haired woman offered. "Quite different, but the handles are kind of like reigns."

    The engineering group all contributed to explaining the controls, and eventually Irene felt confident enough to try it out.

    "Now open the throttle carefully."

    "Like this?"

    "You can open it a bit faster–"

    VROOM!

    "…a little too fast."

    "Be careful, Irene!"

    Irene could not hear them, she was too far away and too preoccupied trying to keep the machine pointed straight, fighting down her rising panic as she forgot how she was supposed to stop the thing.

    'I should not have agreed to this!'

    The wind whipped through her hair and pulled at her skin in a somewhat familiar sensation.

    She took a deep breath, her hands steadying as the machine did.

    'Huh, this isn't so bad.'

    Not unlike skiing or snowboarding, leaning helped control the direction, though the braking still eluded her.

    This orbal bicycle (biwheel?) was faster than Arthur, the family horse, and given that it was a machine, probably wouldn't get tired in the same way, so it could maintain the high speed for a longer period of time…

    'Wait, is that Heimdallr in the distance?! How far have I gone? And can this thing make it back to Trista? Wait…how do I stop?!'

    She wracked her brain frantically, but most of what Elisha and his friends said had apparently been plucked from her mind by the wind, and she drew a blank.

    'I really can't keep going this way…well, nothing for it!'

    Despite knowing it was a poor idea, Irene leaned sharply to one side, trying to steer the machine back around.

    There was a terrifying squealing sound from the wheels as the bicycle continued to slide in the direction she had been going originally for a few seconds before she managed to align it back the way she came.

    Fortunately, she kept her balance, and was now headed back towards Trista.

    Irene let the throttle open again and let out a 'whoop!' of excitement as the machine accelerated suddenly, sending her racing back towards her starting point.

    She could see why Lady Rogner found riding this machine fun.

    The wind in her hair, the road zipping by past her…it was almost like a flying sensation!

    For a moment, Irene imagined doing a jump like she did when skiing down the slopes near Ymir, but her lack of familiarity with this machine probably meant attempting tricks should wait until a later time, at the very least.

    Perhaps some ten minutes later, she could see the town in the distance, and the fact that she still could not remember how to stop the bicycle reared its ugly head again.

    'Umm! Close the throttle? That makes some sense, probably?'

    Of course, that didn't stop the machine, just stopped it from supplying more power, and Irene realized with concern that at the rate she was slowing down she was probably going to hit someone.

    'I hope this works!'

    As the group of people waiting for her got closer and closer, Irene swung the machine to the side, aiming it perpendicular to the road and leaned to her left like she was trying to stop on a snowboard.

    To her relief, the machine decelerated fast enough this way that she wouldn't hit anyone, and when it got close to a stop, she straightened herself out, to the enthusiastic cheers of Elisha and his friends.

    "Well, well, would you look at that!" Crow whooped, "looks like Towa junior has a bit of spunk in her after a–ack!" He was cut off as Lady Rogner elbowed him in the gut. "What was that for?!"

    "Huh, didn't expect you to go for the dramatic entrance," Elisha laughed. "Was it that easy to pick up how to control this thing?"

    "Um…partially?" Irene replied hesitantly, getting off of the machine, still holding it by the handles, as she was pretty sure it would fall over if she let go.

    "Heh, got to hand it to you Schwarzer," Lady Rogner offered, "powersliding on your first ride? That takes some skill."

    "Powersliding?" Irene wondered aloud.

    "Wait, you didn't know?"

    "I…um…may have forgotten how to stop the machine?"

    The group stared at her blankly.

    "I'm sorry!" Irene squeaked.

    "Damn, your whole class is nuts," Crow muttered to Elisha.

    "No? None of us are in an asylum…are we?"

    Irene tried to slip away while they were distracted, but the machine tipped over with a loud noise, and she just about died of mortification.

    With those tasks out of the way, Irene began preparing for another foray into the Old Schoolhouse, restocking on medicinal items and adjusting her combat orbment.

    Lawrence and Fion prepared similarly, while Emmet seemed to appear as if from thin air. Julia arrived not long after.

    To Irene's surprise, Ellia, Masha and Gaia also approached her, looking ready for battle.

    "Oh! Do you plan on joining us?" Irene asked, mostly as a formality.

    "That is the plan," Gaia nodded. "I feel somewhat ashamed that I had not realized this assignment applied to all of us as a class."

    "There's no need to worry!" Irene replied quickly. "More help would be welcome."

    "Though it will make things a bit more difficult to coordinate," Julia observed, giving Masha a meaningful look.

    "What is that supposed to mean?!" The greenette snapped, glaring back at the blonde noble.

    "Don't make yourself a liability," Emmet grunted, absently checking his combat orbment. "I'm not carrying you out again."

    "You-!"

    "I hope it does not come to that," Lawrence cut in, "but if someone does end up needing to be carried out I would not mind."

    "That's–!"

    "....Did I say something wrong?"

    "No, you did not," Irene reassured him. "Though I agree that we should aim for no one needing to be carried out."

    "That's kind of why I wanted to join," Ellia piped up, clutching her orbal staff. "I almost got pretty hurt during the field studies because I'm not that good in a fight, so I figured it would be better to learn at school than when stuff is happening out there."

    "That seems reasonable," Lawrence complimented.

    "Though stuff can go wrong in there too," Fion cautioned. "My ears were ringing for a few hours after those screaming face door things."

    "S-screaming face door things?" Ellia stammered, looking like she was having second thoughts.

    "Yeah, there are some strange monsters down there," Julia confirmed.

    "They also seem to get progressively more strange as we go deeper in," Lawrence observed. "On the first floor it was beetles, flying felines, and some dromes, then on the second floor down there were floating golems, animated stones, and the 'screaming face door things', as you mentioned."

    "You seem strangely knowledgeable about these things," Emmet grunted, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

    "Well, this place reminds me somewhat of the lower levels of Lohengrin Castle," Lawrence explained. "And there was a similar trend there."

    "Ah, I see." Emmet nodded, somehow satisfied with that response.

    "Do not pretend that you aren't also strangely knowledgeable about the Old Schoolhouse," Julia pointed out, narrowing her eyes at Emmet suspiciously. "Anything you care to share with the class?"

    "No," their purple haired classmate shot back, refusing to elaborate.

    "If you know something important to this investigation, you'll let us know, right?" Irene asked, trying to calm the situation, and partly hoping that Emmet did actually have some kind of information about what they could expect.

    Emmet nodded. "If I knew anything relevant, I would bring it up when it becomes relevant."

    That…felt like a lie to Irene, but she didn't have a right to force him to talk, so she should probably try to move things along–

    The door to the Student Union banged open and Elisha rushed in, chewing on part of a sandwich shoved into his mouth.

    "Sowwy I'm 'ate!" he somehow yelled while practically inhaling his sandwich.

    "Oh for crying out loud! Don't talk with your mouth full!" Masha squawked indignantly.

    "Oh right, thought we were missing someone," Fion mumbled absently.

    "Is the beginning of every such excursion like this?" Gaia asked Irene, looking mildly amused.

    "Hehe, sort of…"

    It took some cajoling, but eventually Class VII was united in exploring the Old Schoolhouse.

    To Irene's surprise, things proved relatively easy.

    While Masha and Ellia weren't very experienced in combat, they had enough practice by now to make effective use of support arts. Gaia, on the other hand, was an excellent shot with her bow, allowing her to take down quite a few enemies before they even registered the group's presence.

    Speaking of monsters, Lawrence's assumption had proved correct, and the enemies on this floor were indeed stranger than the one before, including floating obelisks with faces on them, gigantic rabbits with tendrils coming out of their necks, and some snails that could cast dangerous time arts.

    Even then, the monsters didn't pose that much of a challenge to the whole of Class VII, as their combined strength and ARCUS facilitated coordination allowing them to defeat their foes in short order, though there was a bit of a scare when one of the rabbits speared Elisha and he lost consciousness.

    Fortunately, he recovered quickly with some assistance, and wasn't actually seriously injured.

    The floor layout itself was perhaps more difficult, consisting of a set of colored bridges that retracted or extended based on what levers were pulled.

    Irene wasn't sure she could have figured the puzzle out herself, but fortunately for her, she had the rest of the class with her. Emmet seemed unimpressed, but Lawrence was the first one to clue in.

    "I can see the path!" he declared. "We will have to flip the lever in that direction, which will switch the extended bridges to the ones of the other color. Then we flip the level those bridges grant access, which should allow us to move further on."

    The group looked at him in mild surprise. "Does that seem incorrect?" their tall classmate wondered.

    "No, it seems quite spot on," Emmet grunted. "Lohengrin Castle must have quite a few similarities, then."

    "I was just surprised you were the first one to figure this out," Elisha chuckled. "You're usually one of the last people to finish quizzes."

    "I would be faster if the pencils were not so fragile!"

    "Enough," Emmet grunted. "Let's go." With that, he walked off.

    "D-do you always go this fast?" Ellia gasped, scampering after Emmet. "It feels like we've been fighting nonstop!"

    "Progress has been easier than last time," Fion replied. "Having longer range specialists helped."

    "The air down here feels strange," Gaia murmured curiously. "We must be close to the end."

    "Yeah, I see the challenge doors up ahead," Emmet called back, pointing down a long hallway.

    "What does he mean by that?" Masha wondered, eying the door warily.

    "There's usually been a stronger monster at the end," Lawrence replied. "Last floor there were three, so who knows what we will face this time?"

    Ellia gulped visibly and Masha looked concerned, but neither put a voice to it, clearly not wanting to be left behind.

    "Could we try and find out what we need to fight before going in?" Irene suggested. "We managed to beat them last time but they were a bit tricky."

    "Tch, my ears were ringing for the whole evening after that," Julia grumbled.

    "I could try sneaking in," Fion offered, "but the door opening by itself probably means that won't work."

    "It is also possible that the monsters won't show themselves until we announce ourselves, so to speak," Lawrence suggested. "That would make sense if this is a sort of challenge."

    "I'm not really ok with sending Fion off by himself," Ellia chimed in, "wouldn't it be better for all of us to go at once?"

    "Not always," Gaia mused, glancing at Lawrence, "but if your guess is accurate, it would be the best option."

    "We should have the close range fighters head in first," Emmet suggested. "No need to make it easy for the enemies."

    "That seems reasonable–"

    "I'm not going to stand around!"

    Irene was cut off as Ellia suddenly burst into a run into the challenge room.

    "Are you serious?" Emmet grumbled, before running after her, and the rest of the group followed.

    True to Lawrence's hunch, they found Ellia standing in an empty room, suddenly looking more hesitant, but the instant the whole group stepped inside, there was a flash of light as space warped, and three vaguely humanoid figures appeared. Their skin was red and their bodies were segmented like an insect, with two horns jutting out of their foreheads. Their multiple eyes glinted maliciously, and Class VII readied their weapons.

    "Pit Fiends," Emmet muttered, raising his staff to cast an art. "Fire won't work too well against them."

    Given that the monsters shot beams of heat from their mouths that could set you on fire, that was likely true.

    Even so, they were outnumbered, and Class VII took them apart.

    When someone was hit by the heat rays, Ellia, Julia or Emmet would cast healing art on them, and whenever someone was put to sleep by the fiends' space distorting attack, their link partner would jolt them into wakefulness.

    In the end, the three fiends fell, one to a lance of energy launched from Gaia's orbal bow, one to combination of arts cast by Emmet and Julia, while Elisha and Fion coordinated to inflict another one of the Reinford's experiments on the last one, this bomb freezing their foe solid, making it easy for Lawrence to shatter.

    "Woo! We did it!" Ellia whooped, throwing her fist up in the air triumphantly.

    "You're lucky Big Guy was right," Fion sniped, deflating her buoyant mood. "Otherwise you'd have had all three of them focused on you from the start."

    "Ehehe…running ahead wasn't the brightest idea, was it?"

    "The opposite, really," Emmet grunted, already heading back the way they came.

    "Rude!" Ellia huffed, looking annoyed, but her grimace showed that she had no illusions about how reckless she had been.

    "It would be a poor idea in most circumstances, but in this case there was no real harm done," Lawrence offered, "so there is no need to dwell on it too much."

    Ellia gave him a grateful smile, and a part of Irene felt less than charitable as she pressed a tear balm to the singed part of the ginger's leg, drawing a hiss of pain.

    "We s-should get to the infirmary," Masha suggested, her breaths coming in heaves as she braced herself on her knees. "Some of us have burns that need to be treated."

    "Indeed!" Lawrence concurred. "But everyone was able to walk out on their own power, so I count it as a full success!"

    "I also got a chance to test something in a safe and controlled environment," Elisha cheered, mimicking the Vice Principal's nasally voice.

    "I…by what standards was this safe and controlled?!" Julia sputtered, giving her fellow blond a disbelieving look.

    "We are far away from other people and in a place where it is really hard to damage school property!" Elisha explained enthusiastically.

    "Also acceptable targets," Fion added.

    "Riiight…" Julia drawled, shaking her head. "Why did I expect anything different?"

    "Masha is right," Irene declared. "While this fight wasn't as bad as the last one, we should make sure no one's burns get worse."

    "I do believe Emmet has already gone," Gaia observed curiously. "Perhaps we should follow his example?"

    The remainder of Class VII left the Old Schoolhouse, but saw no sign of their purple haired classmate. As they stepped out into the red riot of sunset, most of them paused for a bit to take in the fresh air.

    Irene stretched, rolling her shoulders to loosen up the muscles there, and a curious thought popped into her head at that moment.

    "The elevator was still at the third floor when we got there," she mused. "So how did Emmet get up out of the dungeon?"

    Julia turned sharply to her. "That…is a pretty damn good question."

    "Language," Lawrence chided automatically, unfazed by Julia's annoyed glare. "Though perhaps he took the lift, then pushed the button for it to go down again before hopping off?"

    "Could work, elevator is pretty slow," Fion added.

    "I don't want to sound mean…but Emmet doesn't really seem like the kind of guy who bothers with that…" Ellia pointed out.

    "He is certainly rude," Julia snorted, "but Millstein can be strangely considerate about some things."

    Irene gave her friend a curious look, which the blonde pointedly ignored.

    "I mean…he did carry me through the sewers back in Bareahard…" Masha murmured. "So he's not all bad, even if he's a jerk. Still…does anyone else get the feeling he doesn't really want to be here?"

    "He does seem like a man on a mission," Gaia chimed in. "Though what that is I do not know."

    "Is that why he keeps disappearing on us?" Ellia wondered.

    "You could just ask him?" Lawrence suggested with a shrug. "From what I can tell he is training much of the time."

    "But where?" Ellia asked.

    "Dunno. Can never find him," Fion grumbled.

    "Probably somewhere far away enough he can chuck arts around," Elisha suggested, looking confused. "But I thought we were going to the infirmary?"

    "Yes," Irene agreed. "We should also not be talking about Emmet behind his back so much."

    "Aren't you curious too, Irene?" Julia prodded, and Irene nodded.

    "Somewhat, but that doesn't mean we should gossip about it."

    "My leg is hurting more now," Elisha grumbled. "That's not supposed to work like that."

    'Huh? How is what supposed to work like how?'

    Feeling fatigue setting in, the group headed back to the main building to get their injuries treated and to report their findings.

    They hadn't really found any new information, but Lawrence's guesses had been quite spot on, and if he had learned those trends from Lohengrin Castle…was there some connection between there and Trista?

    After a brief stay in the infirmary, the group dispersed, starting with those with lesser injuries. Lawrence tried to walk off but Instructor Beatrix managed to corral him into getting treated with Irene's help. He actually seemed surprised when he actually looked at his injuries, so it apparently wasn't from stubbornness and just from him not thinking it hurt enough to be serious.

    Irene could only wonder what kind of injury he was accustomed to that he rated those burns so lightly.

    Though despite her fussing, she had to admit that they had gotten off pretty lightly as a group, most of them only having mild burns, with Elisha and Lawrence having the worst of it, but it was…admittedly difficult to tell if getting knocked out had affected the former in any way due to how erratic his normal behavior was, and the latter may have been hit more, but he seemed largely unfazed.

    Emmet had also been hit a few times, but his Master Quartz had protected him from the worst of the burns, though Irene found it curious that he usually seemed unhurt despite having seen him take some hits.

    She shook her head, that wasn't that important.

    "There you go, Schwarzer," Instructor Beatrix hummed as she finished bandaging the burn on Irene's leg. "You were correct that your injuries were less severe than most of the others, though I still would recommend that in the future, you treat yourself first before worrying about others."

    "That is just how Lady Irene is, instructor," Lawrence laughed from where he was sitting, "always caring for others. Though to be fair, she is among the nimblest of our class, so she avoided most of the attacks." Irene avoided looking at him, definitely because of the bandaged burns over a good portion of his chest.

    "I have observed that much, Arseid," the old nurse replied in an amused tone. "I have known many people of that type in my years." Her eyes darkened seriously. "So trust that my advice comes from experience."

    To that, Irene could only nod sheepishly.

    Instructor Beatrix smiled. "Good, now you should be fine to head out, though do be careful about putting too much strain on that leg."

    "Understood, instructor," Irene acknowledged with a grateful smile.

    "I could carry you, if you need–"

    "That will not be necessary!" Irene squeaked, turning away so Lawrence couldn't see her embarrassment. "Thank you for your generosity though."

    "You are welcome," Lawrence returned, looking entirely unbothered.

    'Does he like carrying people around?'

    The instructor laughed, a distant look on her face. "You are much like your father, Arseid."

    "You are acquainted with him, instructor?" the tall student asked curiously.

    "Indeed. I served for some time in the Imperial Army, and I remember the result of the first training exercise with him as an opponent went."

    While the two others in the room were distracted, Irene slipped out, letting out a breath as she considered what to do for the rest of the evening–

    'Ah! I forgot to lock the Old Schoolhouse door!'

    Spurred by that realization, she hurried (without straining her leg) back in the direction she had come, hoping that no one had been foolish enough to try venturing inside in the time that had so far elapsed.

    As she walked down the path leading from campus to the Old Schoolhouse, Irene paused, cocking her head as she heard a humming sound in the air.

    Was that…music?

    She continued onward quickly, the sounds getting louder as she went.

    As she turned the corner and the Schoolhouse came into view, Irene let out a sigh of relief as she spotted Ellia standing on the schoolhouse steps, vigorously playing her orbal guitar.

    'I was afraid she had tried to go inside to train by herself for a moment there!'

    Irene paused, actually listening to what her classmate was playing now that she wasn't worried about someone getting into the Old Schoolhouse that shouldn't have, and she couldn't help but feel impressed.

    Ellia played furiously, her fingers flying across the strings, and while Irene was not really used to the sound that the guitar made, she had some idea of how difficult it was to play so rapidly, and as best as she could tell, her orange haired classmate didn't miss a beat.

    The notes clashed, the reverbing sound produced by this novel instrument making each chord linger longer than Irene was used to observing from a stringed instrument, creating a cacophonous ringing sound that somehow still managed to be coherent.

    It obviously took a fair amount of skill, and while it didn't make her want to dance, Irene could sense the feelings the music was trying to convey, an eagerness, frustration, and clashing against restraints. Ellia didn't seem to be playing a predetermined song, more improvising as she went depending on the ebbs and flows of her emotions at any given moment.

    As strange as she found the sounds, Irene listened, and she felt she began to understand her classmate a bit better.

    It was clear from the beginning that Ellia was spirited, but something had constrained her, which led to her frustration about how behind she was in combat ability to the rest of her class, creating a sort of need to prove herself that manifested into reckless behavior. All this flowed through her music as she cast her thoughts away.

    Or at least, that's what Irene assumed she was doing.

    Still…the door needed to be locked, but Irene didn't want to interrupt such a passionate musical performance, so she waited.

    Idly, she wondered what her music instructors at St. Astraia's would think. They'd probably find it too loud–well, there was one teacher who would rather like it.

    Ellia went on for an impressively long time, and the sky was starting to darken when she finished, strumming one last defiant chord before letting out a long breath and plopping down on the steps.

    Irene clapped politely. It was quite a performance.

    "Aaah!" Ellia shot up from her seated position, almost dropping her guitar as her head snapped towards Irene. "Oh." The ginger haired girl let out a relieved sigh. "It's just you. But geez, you almost scared my shoes off Irene!"

    "I apologize," Irene returned, covering her mouth to hide her smile, "you seemed very focused and I did not want to interrupt."

    "Uh…how long were you standing there?" Ellia murmured, shuffling her feet awkwardly. "And did someone complain about it being too loud?"

    "Not that long," Irene replied, though she actually wasn't sure how long it had been, "and I had forgotten to lock the Schoolhouse door, so I came back here, and well…"

    "Ehehe…" Ellia chuckled nervously, twirling some of her hair around a finger nervously. "Sorry…"

    "No need to apologize!" Irene reassured her, moving past her classmate to lock the door she had neglected earlier. "Your music was quite interesting to listen to."

    "Was it?" the ginger haired girl asked. "A lot of people tell me it's too loud."

    "It is certainly loud," Irene chuckled, turning back to look at Ellia, "but I could tell that it took significant skill."

    "Really?"

    Irene frowned. "Is that instrument easier to play than I assume?"

    "Oh, no! I mean…maybe?" Ellia muttered. "I mean…yeah, it took me a lot of practice to be able to do stuff like that, I'm just a bit surprised you aren't offended by it."

    "Offended? Why would I be?" Irene asked, tilting her head curiously. "You were right in that playing here wouldn't really bother anyone."

    "So you agree that what I played was music?!" Ellia chirped, face lighting up and waving her hands excitedly.

    "Erm…I do not see why not?"

    "Yeah! I knew you were cool, Reany!" the orange haired girl cheered, throwing a fist into the air excitedly.

    "R-Reany?!" Irene sputtered. 'I have never been called that before.'

    "Um…is that not a good nickname…?"

    "Please don't give Julia any more ideas," Irene whispered quickly, before immediately feeling quite silly, because she was pretty sure Julia wasn't anywhere near to overhear.

    "Oh…sorry," Ellia looked down, looking dejected. 'Ah! Don't make that face!'

    "I-I'm not angry at you for coming up with that name," Irene backpedaled quickly, waving her hands frantically, "it just caught me off guard, and I am not sure what you mean by cool?"

    "Oh! Ok!" Ellia let out a relieved sigh. "Sorry, I don't really know how to act around you, 'cause sometimes you're very serious and formal but you're usually really nice too."

    "There's no need to worry too much about that around me," Irene offered. "I'm not that easily offended, though I would like you to stop running ahead recklessly. At least until you get stronger."

    "You…think I can get strong enough for that?" Ellia asked, eyes widening.

    "Well…yes?" Irene replied, a bit surprised by the question. "You will probably never be strong like how Lawrence or Gaia are, but you're quick on your feet and quite talented at arts…which still means you probably shouldn't still be running in front of everyone then."

    "Yeaah…" the younger girl sighed. "Sometimes I just get nervous, and I'm afraid that if I don't run forward I'll end up running away."

    "Ah…" Now that she thought about it, that has never occurred to Irene before.

    "How do you do it, anyways?" Ellia asked, giving Irene an intense look.

    "Do what?"

    "Be brave like that," Ellia explained, waving her hand generally in Irene's direction.

    "I…am not sure what you mean?" Irene replied slowly. She didn't feel very brave.

    "Well…you know…" Ellia began hesitantly, "you're…um…more like me and Masha in size, but you're much braver."

    "I…do not see what size has to do with this?"

    "I mean…" the ginger haired girl frowned, biting at her lower lip. "It's just…Gaia and Julia seem so confident all the time, and I know I'm not like that, but you…um…"

    "I seem nervous and lack confidence?" Irene filled in drily, a touch of bitterness in her tone.

    "Wait no! I mean…no, that sounded wrong." Ellia tripped over her own words, looking unsure how to express what she was thinking. Irene suppressed the irritation that crawled up her throat at that judgment, because it wasn't wrong.

    "What I mean is…" Ellia began again, "is that you seem more normal compared to everyone else in our class, except for Masha. Lawrence and Fion and Emmet are kind of crazy fighters, and Elisha is crazy in general. Gaia has been hunting monsters since she was a kid, and Julia's been trained to use a sword and is from one of the Four Great Houses, so when thinking about where we came from, I thought maybe you were the most like us–about the fighting thing, at least…"

    "How so?" Irene asked, perplexed by that comparison. "Ymir is a remote town, and while it has not ever been my official responsibility to deal with the monster problems that sometimes occur, I was also taught how to fight at a young age as well."

    "Really? Oh…I should have known better than just making assumptions," Ellia murmured, looking down ashamedly.

    Irene pursed her lips, taking a calming breath as she tried to uncloud her eyes.

    'Ellia is not like them, she doesn't mean anything by this.'

    "Ellia, just what, exactly do you want to ask me?" she said after a long moment. "Please ask directly. I promise I won't get angry."

    Her younger classmate frowned, thinking about her words for a second before opening her mouth.

    "Um…just…how do I become brave like you?" Ellia asked. "When you're fighting you never look scared."

    Irene blinked. She had never really thought about it. The first time she really raised her hands in violence…

    She shivered.

    "I…don't know if I have any advice for you in that regard…" Irene admitted. "I…don't really think about that in a fight." Ever since that day in the snow…fear…didn't really cross her mind when monsters were involved.

    "Oh…" Ellia murmured, deflating in on herself.

    "But I would say that lacking bravery is not your problem," Irene offered, causing Ellia to look at her curiously. "In fact, I think it is your recklessness that is what put you in trouble. If you focused more on what you can do instead of worring about being afraid, it might help."

    "I'll…would that work?" Ellia wondered, looking hopeful.

    "I don't know," Irene admitted, "but just think, if you were a coward, you would not have volunteered to help us today."

    Ellia frowned, looking thoughtful. "Maybe you have a point there…" She strummed her guitar idly in thought. Speaking of which…

    "When you were playing just now…" Irene murmured. "Were you worried about missing a note?"

    "Um…not really?" Ellia replied. "I was kind of just really into it."

    "Perhaps you can think of that in a fight," Irene suggested. "You do tend to fight to a sort of rhythm, after all."

    "I do?!" Ellia exclaimed. "Wait! That's a great idea! Thanks Irene!"

    Enthusiasm returned, the ginger haired girl suddenly ran off, leaving Irene perplexed.

    'That was a strange conversation…but now…is it normal to not be afraid?'

    Time passed, and the relief of exams being over gave way to jittery nerves as the time for the results to be posted drew nearer. Irene was not really sure why the scores would be ranked and displayed publicly (perhaps as a method of motivation?) but that was the tradition so that was what would happen.

    On top of that, Class VII also noticed the tension in the air in their own dorm, as from what Fion described, Instructor Valestein had a staredown with Caretaker Sharon. The two apparently had some past history that involved hostility, which made Irene curious.

    Why would a bracer have conflict with a maid? On one hand, Sharon did move lightly and with great precision, so probably could handle herself in a fight, but given how she fussed over Elisha like he was her own child (and the rest of the class, to a lesser extent), Irene could not really think of anything in her behavior that would really anger their instructor.

    It was so bizarre that Instructor Valestein actually refused to drink the beer Caretaker Sharon acquired.

    From what Elisha said, Caretaker Sharon was not married, so she had not "stolen" a man from Instructor Valestein, or anything like that, leaving Irene and the rest of the class perplexed. This was not helped by their instructor's refusal to elaborate on the issue.

    Most of the class chose to just ignore another one of their instructor's eccentricities, but Irene found to her chagrin that Instructor Valestein showed up to interrupt her attempts to ask the Reinford maid about cooking advice with a frustrating regularity.

    Then the announcement came that the exams were graded and most of the class forgot about that spat.

    The day the results were posted saw a crowd of students hovering around the notice board in the main building, the air charged with nervousness, despair and a few whoops of delight.

    Irene searched for her name, starting from the bottom, her heart thumping loudly in her chest, but she found to her surprise that she had to run through almost the entirety of the roster to find her name…at seventh place, right under Bridget at sixth.

    Drat.

    "I will concede defeat this time, Falkenstein," Irene sniffed jokingly at her auburn haired friend, "but I will not be so easily beaten next time!"

    "Well, I certainly welcome the challenge, Schwarzer," Bridget returned haughtily, "just do make sure not to wear yourself out."

    The two of them glared at each other for a moment, before breaking out into giggling.

    "In all sincerity, congratulations, Irene," Bridget offered once she stopped laughing. "I'm impressed you managed to keep up with your studies even while running around the country like you and your class are."

    "Thank you," Irene accepted politely, "and I must congratulate you on your performance too."

    "Ha! Thanks, but I definitely had more time to study–"

    "Are you kidding me?!"

    Their good natured conversation was interrupted by Masha's outraged voice, and they turned to see the green haired girl looking about ready to tear her hair out.

    "Well, I guess we will have to call this a draw, Regnitz," Julia remarked, looking amused.

    Irene glanced at the board, blinking in surprise as she saw that Julia and Masha had somehow tied for second place, with the first place going to–

    "Tch. Could be better."

    Emmet, though, did not look particularly satisfied, walking by the ranking board with barely a passing glance.

    "That one has a real chip on his shoulder," Bridget murmured, watching the purple haired boy turn the corner.

    "Yeah…" Irene sighed, wondering why her classmate seemed to care so little about most things.

    "Hey, congrats Lawrence!" Elisha cried from a bit down the hallway, "you got in the top twenty!"

    "Thank you!" Lawrence cheered back, "I am a bit surprised myself! Though you are eighth, which deserves even greater congratulations!"

    "Eh…I'll get you next time Irene!" the blond called, pointing at the girl in question.

    "Ehh?! Oh! I wish you good luck! Ehehe," Irene replied, realizing that she had only scored a few points above the Reinford.

    "Wow! Gaia you also got into the top twenty!" Ellia gasped, before deflating as she found her own placement. "Oh poo, I'm nearly the worst in our class!"

    "How do you think I feel?" Fion asked jokingly, though he did not seem too upset with his placement towards the middle of the board.

    "Ah! Sorry!"

    "I actually feel fine so don't worry about it."

    "Um…still sorry?"

    "It's not as if they scored poorly," Bridget chuckled, giving Irene an amused side eye. "Your class sure is something, if the worst you have is a mediocre score from someone I think I've seen asleep about as often as I've seen them awake."

    "Hey! We had the best average!" Elisha cheered, "unlike the administrators, we can count!"

    "Are you really still bothered by that?" Lawrence wondered.

    "Yes!"

    Irene glanced over to the list her two classmates were referencing, and found that Class VII indeed had the highest average score.

    "Given more than half your class was in the top ten, and the top three were all you guys, that isn't really surprising," Bridget mused. "I'm more disappointed in my own class, we really should have been able to beat Class III, but alas!"

    "Well, we all studied quite hard…"

    "No doubt, but I think a few people might be quite furious about their ranking," Bridget suggested, eyes flicking over to a disappointed looking Ferris.

    "She scored ninth, that's hardly anything to be ashamed of," Irene pointed out.

    "Sure, but you know Ferris and her pride."

    "...You may have a point," Irene conceded, and from the looks of some of the Class I and II students, it seemed that the Florald was not the only person disappointed with their placements.

    'Hopefully no one takes this too seriously.'

    That afternoon they had another practical exam after their theoretical classes, for which Instructor Valestein greeted them with even more cheer than normal.

    "Congrats all of you overachievers!" she praised, clapping her hand and looking like she was ready to jump for joy. "I'll forever cherish the grumpy look on old Heiny's face, that'll teach him to keep poking his nose into my business!"

    "Isn't that his job?" Elisha asked gormlessly. "He's the vice principal."

    "We didn't study hard just for you to one up your colleagues," Masha grumbled, "though she does have a point…"

    "Grr...I'm sick of that smarmy mustache face," Instructor Valestein continued, momentarily lost in her own little world. "Work stuff is one thing, but what does he think he gets the right to tell me what to wear and how to act in a bar?!"

    'Did they go drinking together?'

    "Now he keeps telling me I should hurry up and get married!" their Instructor cried indignantly. "Yeah, I'll marry my boot to your stupid face, jackass!"

    'Is she hungover from drinking too much? Must have been drinking a lot then…'

    "Well, well, well, I did not know that you too were into that sort of thing," Julia remarked impishly, tapping her lip thoughtfully.

    "J-Julia!"

    "What?"

    "Whoa, whoa, whoa! That is not what's going on here!" Instructor Valestein blurted out, waving her hands in fervent denial.

    "Oh? My mistake then," Julia mock apologies, bowing contritely.

    "Isn't he a little young for you?" Fion snarked.

    "Oi! That's enough out of you!"

    "But that is the first thing he said?" Lawrence pointed out, looking lost.

    "I have no idea what you guys are implying," Elisha declared. "Does Instructor Sara have something with the–ow!" He was cut off as Ellia hit him on the head with her staff. "What did I even do?!"

    "R-Read the room!" the ginger haired girl chided him furiously.

    "We're outside!"

    "Alright, that's enough about that!" Instructor Valestein barked, drawing the class' attention back to her. She looked mostly calm, but Irene saw her eye twitch once or twice. "I'm tempted to make this practical exam even harder–"

    "Truly? That–"
    "Shut up Lawrence!"

    "Ahem! As I was saying…ready or not, here comes this month's practical exam!" their instructor snapped her fingers, and a floating automaton appeared next to her. It was a different color to the previous one they used…

    'Huh…it sort of looks like that flying object…'

    "You think this one can fly too?" Fion murmured to Irene, apparently noticing the same thing.

    "I don't know…"

    "I could ask Lawrence to try throwing it up in the air to test?"

    "Maybe not…"

    "Heh, doesn't this look like fun?"

    Irene's head snapped to the side at the unfamiliar voice, spotting a group of…Class I and II students? Why were they here?

    "What are those assholes up to?" Ellia grumbled, eyeing the nobles grumpily as the white uniformed students strolled their way towards them across the training field.

    Masha's glare could have ignited dry grass, and Julia stiffened momentarily, before putting on a polite mask. Irene did the same a moment later.

    Bridget caught her questioning look from across the field and mouthed an apology.

    "Shouldn't you guys be in class?" Instructor Valestein asked, looking confused.

    "Instructor Thomas had to step away for an errand, so his class became a self-study period," the brown haired student in the lead of the white uniformed students explained in a too self-assured tone.

    "Something similar happened with Instructor Heinrich," Margarita chimed in for Class II. "Dunno what it's about but he got called away, so…"

    "Right," the Class I student continued, looking slightly peeved at being interrupted. "And we thought it would be a grand idea to come visit the special class that everyone has been talking about."

    "Is this about the exams?" Elisha wondered, looking perplexed. "Cause it's been what, a couple months since this thing was started? Kinda a delayed reaction."

    A crack appeared in the arrogant student's demeanor as he glared at the other person who interrupted him.

    "Do you want to join our practical exam?" Lawrence asked, choosing to interpret the situation charitably. "Though I don't believe there is much difference in their nature–is there, instructor?"

    "I mean, it's not the exact same," Instructor Valestein snorted, "for one, it should be next week."

    "We simply wished to properly introduce ourselves," the apparent leader of Class I waved off, "and to show the newest class the true spirit of nobility."

    'I thought I was done with this–no. That was just fooling myself.'

    "Just what exactly are you insinuating, Hyarms?" Julia snorted. "We've already been introduced, without being armed."

    Hyarms tapped the hilt of his sword theatrically. "Ah, but there is no finer way of getting acquainted than matching blades, is there?"

    "I share that sentiment," Lawrence agreed, which seemed to unsettle Hyarms, even if he controlled his reaction, "so you would like to spar with us?"

    "You know…that sounds like a great idea!" Instructor Valestein cheered. "How about it? Instead of fighting a bot, this month's practical exam will be a friendly bout between Classes I, II and VII!"

    "All at the same time?" Elisha wondered, looking thoughtful.

    "No blowing up fellow students!" their instructor barked, before shrugging. "At least not on my watch. Now Mr. Patrick, it looks like you and your three buddies are ready to team up, so we'll pull four people from Class VII, with–"

    "I'll do it!" Ellia interjected suddenly, raising her hand enthusiastically.

    "I would like to take a crack at this snob, too," Masha added, clutching her shotgun a bit too tightly.

    "Well, it looks like we have two volunteers!" Instructor Valestein laughed. "Anyone else?"

    "I dislike the idea of fighting women," Hyarms grumbled with a sneer, "it is a man's duty to protect the fragile flowers of womanhood–"

    "So you are a craven?"

    The arrogant noble stopped short as Emmet cut him off.

    "You dare call me a coward?!" Hyarms snarled, glaring at the purple haired man, who returned the look with dismissive contempt.

    "It takes no daring to state plain facts." Emmet smirked. "Furthermore, you are not merely a coward, you are also weak and pathetic, with nothing impressive aside from your name, which is the extent of your inheritance as an extraneous third son with no distinguishing talent."

    Shocked gasps spread across the training field at his words and Hyarms' face began to resemble a Tomartin in color, his indignance apparently so strong he couldn't respond properly.

    "What the hell, Emmet?" Julia muttered, her composure slipping momentarily as she stared blankly at their classmate.

    Irene found herself feeling much the same, as while Hyarms was being incredibly rude, Emmet had just directly insulted him in a way no nobleman with any pride could stand. Perhaps…that was the point.

    "Oooh! You gonna stand for that, Patty-cakes?" Margarita crooned, looking far too amused.

    "Silence!" Patrick Hyarms barked, drawing his rapier and pointing it threateningly at Emmet. "I will make you eat those words, bastard!"

    "Terrifying," Emmet drawled, looking unimpressed, "did your butler cook that speech up for you too?"

    "You–!"

    "I'll take that as volunteer number three," their instructor interjected quickly, "who wants to fill in the last slot? How about you, Fion?"

    The gray haired boy stared up at his guardian with a look of resigned betrayal, but Gaia stepped forward before he could move.

    "I will volunteer, instructor," she declared firmly, drawing her orbal bow. "I would be ashamed if I did not back up my friends."

    "It's decided then!"

    The three classes shuffled around to create a space for the combatants, with Hyarms and three of his followers squaring up against the four members of Class VII.

    "Don't underestimate them," Julia murmured to Gaia as the taller girl stepped forward. "Hyarms is full of himself, but he is quite skilled, and his lackeys at least had good trainers."

    "Then this should be interesting," Gaia returned with a small grin.

    "Alrighty then!" Instructor Valestein shouted, standing to the side of the field between the two sides. "We'll now begin a training bout between Class I and Class VII representatives. Arts and items are allowed, and I say when it ends! That make sense to everyone?!"

    The combatants all gave their assent, at which the fuschia haired woman grinned.

    "Combatants at the ready!"

    Irene narrowed her eyes as she spotted one of Hyarms' followers activate their orbment before Instructor Valestein gave the go ahead.

    "Begi–!"

    "Gah!" The blue haired noble yelped in surprise and pain as his orbment seemed to short out, the art he was trying to cast backfiring and knocking him to the ground.

    Hyarms lunged forward, so focused on Emmet that he didn't seem to notice the commotion, but his attack failed to connect.

    His fellows, on the other hand, startled at their comrades misfortune, and their lapse in attention saw both of them being struck dead on by Masha and Gaia's attacks, though they were tough enough that they did not immediately concede.

    Ellia, shaking herself out of her own surprise, began casting her own art, chanting furiously as the Class I members still on their feet rushed in, making the assumption that the Class VII members would be less effective in close combat.

    Their judgment seemed partially correct, as Patrick managed to strike Emmet several times with his rapier, but his triumphant cry turned into a gasp of pain as the purple haired menace kneed him between the legs before blasting him in the face with a fire art.

    His companions did not fare too much better, as one found out to his regret that lunging straight at a shotgun wielder was unwise, after which Ellia's follow up Aqua Bleed sent him reeling backwards entirely.

    The other had a brief moment of surprised realization that Gaia was taller than him before he was promptly tackled and wrestled to the ground by the Nord girl. He tapped out shortly afterwards as Gaia nearly strangled him.

    By this point, the student whose orbment had malfunctioned recovered, and, apparently spurred on by his embarrassing show so far, struck out recklessly at Masha, gritting his teeth through a blast of her shotgun and striking her in the arm, knocking her gun off target and forcing her to backpedal.

    Now with the numbers suddenly evened, his comrade wiped the water out of his face and paired off against Ellia, sending the smaller girl sprawling with a painful looking strike to the gut.

    Towards the other side of the field, Hyarms himself was having none of the success his lackeys had as Emmet crowded him, not allowing him to make proper use of his sword, tripping him with his staff or legs while throwing elbow jabs or point blank fire bolts to stagger the noble student, who was looking quite a bit less noble with his formerly pristine white uniform burned in multiple places.

    Irene frowned. While she was fine with the clear advantage her class had in the current fight, after their much more effective coordination in the Old Schoolhouse earlier in the month, part of her felt that pairing off into individual duels seemed like a poor idea overall, as while Emmet and Gaia could outmatch their opponents, if they had blocked space out for Ellia and Masha to play to their strengths, this match would have been much more one sided.

    From the look on Instructor Valestein's face, she thought much the same.

    With her opponent defeated, Gaia sprang up and immediately shot the swordsman trying to take Ellia out of the fight even as the ginger haired girl gamely tried defending herself with her orbal staff.

    Now outnumbered once again, he backed up to give himself some space, but in his brief distraction Ellia smacked him solidly in the head with her orbal staff.

    He stared dumbly at the ginger haired girl for a moment, before Gaia shot his sword out of his hand and he conceded.

    With him defeated, the Class VII girls on the field ganged up on Hyarms' last remaining lackey and took him out in quick fashion.

    In the meantime, to Hyarms' credit, he had not yet conceded despite being battered and burned repeatedly. It may have been because he did manage to score some solid blows on Emmet, but the purple haired hellraiser seemed entirely unaffected.

    Irene narrowed her eyes. Emmet could cast much more deadly arts if he wanted to, and he was shockingly fast with them, so why hadn't he?

    "What?!" Hyarms gasped, spotting his defeated classmates, "How-aagh!"

    He screamed as Emmet launched a Spark Arrow into him at close range, his body seizing up from the lightning, and his rapier slipped out of his twitching hand.

    "I-Impossible…" Hyarms fell stiffly to the ground, occasionally twitching.

    "Well that's that!" Instructor Valestein called, "Class VII is the winner!"

    "Woo! Take…that!" Ellia cheered, breathing heavily.

    "How embarrassing…" one of the noble students muttered as he limped to the side of the field.

    "How does it feel to lose?" Masha sneered.

    "Well, that was a bit anticlimactic," Margarita murmured. "I kinda expected more of a fight."

    "I-Is this what field experience helps with?" Ferris hissed to herself, glaring at Ellia. "How could she have improved so much?!"

    "Err…practice helps hone your skills a lot?" Karina Wittelsbuch suggested from near the back of the gathering of noble students. "And we haven't really trained in fighting against each other…"

    "It was a good fight," Gaia said, offering a conciliatory hand to the student she had wrestled into submission as he recovered.

    "Err…yes, quite," he replied, shaking her hand automatically. "I certainly didn't expect to be tackled-"

    "Is this what this school has come to?!" Hyarms burst out in outrage, shaking either with rage or from the aftereffects of spark arrow, "teaching students to fight like thugs?! Bah! What else should we expect from an instructor like this?"

    "Well that's just rude," Elisha remarked, "even I know that!"

    "The rest of you are no better!" Hyarms snapped, "do you think scoring higher on paper exams can mask the fact that you crawled up from the dirt, Reinford? That being a merchant of death flush with cash is a replacement for pedigree?"

    "No?" Elisha replied, not following the insults. "And we don't sell death, that's more a jaeger thing, we sell things people use to kill other people."

    "And what of the barbarian or the jaeger-tot?!" Hyarms went on, oblivious to how much of a fool he was making of himself. "I am surprised they could even read the enrollment forms!"

    'This is going too far!'

    "Did anyone actually read that?" Fion wondered. "Sara just told me to sign wherever."

    "So I am a barbarian, am I?" Gaia remarked in a dangerously mild tone.

    "Patrick…I think this is a step too far–"

    "Silence! You do not get to tell me what to say!"

    "Well that is certainly an effective way to create loyal subjects," Julia remarked acidly.

    "What would you know?!" Hyarms spat back, "it isn't as if you will ever inherit anything of your own!"
    Lawrence, who had been angrily silent up until now, suddenly took a step forward, but another voice rang out before he could.

    "Why are you here?" Emmet asked in a bored tone, idly inspecting the gathered noble students.

    Hyarms sputtered in disbelief. "What? You dare question my right to attend this prestigious–!"

    "No, you imbecile," Emmet barked, "why do you even exist?"

    "H-Huh?"

    "Your family already has an heir and a spare," Emmet pointed out idly. "There is no need for you to have been born, and from what I can see, all you do is take up space."

    "Y-You-!"

    "Scratch that, you just make enemies. Your house would have been better off if you never existed."

    "That…is a bit far, Millstein," Julia admonished half heartedly, and to Irene's shame, she couldn't really summon the strength to do more than nod.

    That had been a horrific insult…but Hyarms had it coming. And as much as she would like to pretend otherwise, a part of her felt a sliver of satisfaction at the poleaxed expression on the arrogant noble's face.

    "While inelegantly put, Millstein has a point here," Lawrence piled on, planting his training sword in the ground. "You are clearly proud of your heritage, Hyarms, and that is not wrong, but is this truly the best way you can think of to honor that legacy?"

    "There is more to nobility than swinging a sword, Arseid," Hyarms snarled back, though Irene could see some of his bravado draining from him as Lawrence gave him an unimpressed look.

    "Isn't that how most of you guys got the title?" Elisha asked, looking between the swords in the hands or on the hips of various nobles among the gathered students. "I see a lot of pointy, sword-looking-like things here."

    "It was a contributing factor," Lawrence admitted with some amusement, "but there are quite a few different merits noble titles were handed out aside from martial valor."

    "It is much more than that!" Hyarms hissed. "We come from distinguished families, built on generations of tradition! That is what gives us our dignity, pride and refinement, something your family seems to forget, Arseid."

    "Your words are meaningless," the tall noble growled, face darkening. "As are the facets you just mentioned. Have the Reinfords not built a tradition of industry, of quality goods and ever refined technologies? Are there not scores of freeman families with long traditions of martial service? And yet they are not nobles."

    He shook his head. "As for refinement, I will admit that has never been my strong suit, but if your behavior today counts as refined, Hyarms, then Instructor Valestein is a demure lady."

    "Hey!"
    "You would take their side over your own kind?!" Hyarms spat, face twisted in disgust. "No wonder your family is falling into irrelevance, something not even a marriage to the product of Duke Albarea's by blow can change that!"

    Irene narrowed her eyes, her hands instinctively falling to her weapons, but Julia shook her head slightly, so she made no further move. It would probably be better for Lawrence to handle this.

    "My own kind, Hyarms?" Lawrence asked dangerously. "I fail to see how we are alike. You speak of tradition, dignity, and pride, but you forget duty and responsibility." He glanced at the other Class I members who had taken part in the match. "You expect to lead, but what reason do they have to follow?"

    "What?!" Hyarms sputtered, "you of all people would make light of the traditional bonds of fealty?!"

    "Tradition is the corpse of wisdom," Emmet snarked. "If a tradition is outdated and no longer serves its intended purpose, it becomes a useless waste of time."

    "We are not outdated!"

    "Are we not?"

    'What?'

    "What?!"

    Lawrence took a deep breath, placing his hands on his sword. "Emmet raises a good point. Our traditions originated in a time when things were quite different. There was no great Imperial army which could defend the whole nation, no bracers to take requests, and no railroads or airships to make it possible for people to work in one city and live in another. It was a time when personal bonds between ruler and subject could mean prosperity or doom."

    He shrugged, hefting his training sword over his shoulder. "That time has passed, yet we remain, for good or for ill."

    There was silence on the practice field for a few moments, and Irene could not help but see Lawrence in a new light.

    'I didn't know he was thoughtful in that way too…'

    Out of all that was said, this seemed to finally shake Hyarms out of his frenzy, and surprisingly, he seemed to actually be thinking about the tall noble's words.

    "Huh, I was not expecting that to work," Instructor Valestein snorted, "good job Lawrence!"

    "Err…thank you?"

    "You're welcome, big boy!" their instructor cheered with a wink, before smiling threateningly at the gathered Class I and II students. "I'd say that concludes our practical exam, thanks to the generous participation of a few people who skipped class–"

    "Huh? What about the rest of us?" Elisha interrupted, looking perplexed. "Normally we all have to have a crack at the punchbot."

    "Rude! But fair point!" Instructor Valestein grinned, eying the now nervous looking girls from Class I and II. "Florald, Wittelsbach, Falkenstein and…Dresden! You're up next!"

    Margarita whooped in excitement and pranced forward, but the other three girls hesitated a bit, before their own pride overwhelmed their nervousness.

    Irene could understand their wariness, as while Bridget was a decent fencer and Ferris was an above average arts caster, they weren't as good as Hyarms. On top of that, while Emmet and Gaia were among the stronger members of Class VII, Ellia and Masha were the least martially capable members, and yet Class I still lost.

    "And you're gonna be going up against Class VII's nobles, to make it fair," their instructor continued, making Ferris and Karina pale and Bridget wince. "Weelll, nah, let's just add Elisha and Fion in with Irene and Julia."

    Bridget and Ferris looked slightly relieved as they realized they did not have to fight Lawrence, but they were probably underestimating Fion and Elisha.

    "Earlier I said items were ok, but no exploding, got that, Elisha?"

    "No exploding as in no bombs or no explosions?"

    The relief disappeared.

    "Ehehe…mercy?" Bridget pleaded as the two groups squared off, only partly joking.

    "I will avenge my defeat in the classroom on the field!" Irene declared, which Bridget and Margarita took in good humor, but poor Karina looked close to fainting.

    "Ready? Begin!"

    Boom!

    As it turned out, Margarita had acquired some of Elisha's devices, and had no restrictions placed on her.

    Unfortunately for her, Class VII was already used to this sort of thing, so even if they came out a bit roughed up from the surprise, they ended up proving more detrimental to her own allies, with Karina startling in fright long enough for Fion to knock her out of the fight before she could do anything.

    Ferris did not last much longer, and Irene managed to again assert her superiority in the martial arts over her auburn haired friend.

    Margarita turned out to be the most resilient of Class I and II, but she was outnumbered, so conceded after she saw her classmates being defeated.

    "So…what should I do then?" Lawrence wondered after that match was decided, being the odd man out of the class. "Am I to fight another group alone?" He did not appear particularly upset about this idea.

    "Nah," Instructor Valestein waved off. "The other classes really should get back to their classrooms, I'll just have you fight the combat shell."

    Despite the apparent armor improvements and Lawrence being alone, the automaton still ended up battered and broken.

    "And with that, that concludes this month's practical exam! Moving right along, here's the assignments for this month's field study!"

    "Oh right, that's a thing still," Elisha muttered.

    Their instructor passed out the information sheets to each of them (though Irene was starting to wonder why they all needed one individually) and the class learned where they were set to go this month.

    'So I am going to the Nord Highlands with Elisha, Emmet, Gaia and Julia…phew, at least this time we should mostly get along!'

    "Bryonia Island?" Masha mused aloud. "That's off the west coast right?"

    "Right, off the coast of Lamare," Lawrence confirmed. "It is known for having some interesting ruins."

    "Oh, there again," Fion murmured.

    "You've been there?" Ellia asked.

    "Once, didn't exactly get to sightsee though."

    "How long of a train ride will it be to the Nord Highlands?" Emmet wondered. "Actually, is there a train all the way there?"

    "There is a cargo train line to Zender Gate," Gaia answered, "though beyond that, naturally, we will have to go on foot."

    "Ah, right, you would know," Elisha grunted. "We staying with your family or something?"

    "That is indeed the plan," the Nord girl confirmed.

    "Oh! I hope we aren't intruding too much," Irene chimed in apologetically.

    "Haha, not at all," Gaia laughed, "arrangements are already in the works. You were gracious enough to welcome me here in your homeland, so it is only natural for me to return the favor."

    "I hope the rest of your people are as sensible as you are," Emmet grumbled. "I am quite tired of nonsense happening on these excursions."

    "I do not foresee my clan intentionally causing trouble," Gaia offered, before frowning. "But the trend so far has not been encouraging, so I pray no ill wind smothers the land."

    "I'm sure everything will be fine, right?" Ellia interjected hopefully.

    "When has that ever worked out?" Emmet scoffed.

    "Then we best prepare," Irene declared firmly, pursing her lips as she remembered the trial that was Bareahard.

    "That's the spirit!" Instructor Valestein cheered. "Go and get 'em Class VII!"

    She would end up regretting that particular turn off phrase.
    AN. Well, that took quite a while, but I managed to get another chapter out! In regards to that, thank you to @LordOfChange and @Mathematicae for helping me proofread this.
     
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