The Price Is Your Everything - Chapter 10: The Bag with a Spider

The bright summer sky was dotted with sheep-like clouds.

The sunlit stone walls, worn by time, no longer carried their old grandeur. However, they still served their purpose of barring passage effectively.

Walking lightly along the stone path where stiff summer grass brushed against the walls was Cledwyn Maindulante. His jet-black hair gleamed with a cool blue sheen, giving him a steely appearance even in the summer.

His high-quality white linen shirt billowed in the sunlight and breeze, exuding a crisp and refreshing aura, as if untouched by the sweltering weather.

At the end of the stone path stood the Zakaria Library, as quiet as ever. It was a time when the librarian was away. Cledwyn ascended directly to the top floor without hesitation and headed to the corner near the fourth bookshelf inside the reading room.

The chair was, as always, empty. Or, more accurately, it was almost always empty these days.

Cledwyn extended a hand toward the chair but didn’t sit. Instead, he infused magic into the carved armrest of the chair.

A faint creak, nearly inaudible to anyone untrained, echoed softly. Cledwyn leaned against the pillar.

Soon, a frivolous voice emanated from within the pillar, audible only to him.

<I’ve missed you, my precious master.>

“Quiet.”

The voice from the pillar erupted into laughter, and Cledwyn coldly inquired, “What about the investigation I ordered?”

<It’s clean.>

“What?”

Cledwyn raised an eyebrow, a peculiar smile forming on his youthful yet striking face.

“So you’re saying finding that place was a coincidence?”

When his father passed away, Cledwyn had just entered the Academy as a freshman.

The Emperor must have been thrilled. If the young heir of a grand duchy happened to “coincidentally” perish, it would be akin to striking gold.

It would turn the thorn in the Emperor’s side, the Maindulante family, into an easily controlled treasure.

But years had passed, and Cledwyn Maindulante was still alive, having survived countless “coincidental” threats through sheer skill.

When Cledwyn discovered that someone had entered the place where he and his subordinates exchanged encrypted messages, he naturally assumed it was an imperial spy.

To test this, he had deliberately drawn his sword to intimidate the intruder, expecting a predictable reaction from a spy.

However, the individual was unlike anything he anticipated. Their lack of physical conditioning was surprising enough, but they appeared more astonished by his presence than afraid.

Then there were those eyes.

The composed violet eyes didn’t belong to a twelve-year-old child but rather to someone weathered by life’s hardships. Reflecting on his conversation with the child, Cledwyn couldn’t help but smile.

The Academy had just gained one more interesting element.

—

By the end of their first week at the Academy, freshmen cautiously began hosting parties.

There were two main types of parties at Noble Academy: those hosted by the student council and those organized by the students themselves.

The former were official events open to all students within the guidelines set by the council. The latter were more akin to social gatherings, where invitations—bearing the names of prominent families—were selectively sent to chosen attendees.

Children from wealthy and influential families were invited to most parties, while those from less affluent or lower-ranking families received far fewer invitations.

Freshmen soon found amusement in critiquing whose parties were the most refined and whose suffered embarrassing missteps.

In this regard, Diane MacKinnon’s pajama party was flawless.

Since it was an informal gathering, the children abandoned their evaluations and instead reveled in playing with toys and engaging in pillow fights.

Diane’s dormitory, a full-scale mansion, ensured they didn’t have to worry about disturbing neighbors with noise.

However, those with keen eyes noted that the pillows and bedding Diane had prepared were all made of premium imported linen, the attendants were exceptionally polite, and the snacks provided—laden with extravagant ingredients—were undeniably luxurious.

—

“Your party is amazing, Diane. Thank you for inviting me,” remarked Alecto Islani, who had already made a name for herself as a witty conversationalist, her expression filled with admiration.

“Thank you for coming. If anything bothers you, let Betty know,” Diane replied, seated gracefully in her pale blue silk robe adorned with frills over her snow-white linen pajamas. Nearly every freshman attended the party, and Diane’s attire was unmistakably the most opulent.

Even her maid, Betty, wore fine clothes that made her resemble a noble lady, prompting the children to marvel at the wealth of the MacKinnon family.

Nerys sat quietly beside Diane, observing the party’s lively atmosphere.

She felt strangely out of place. In her past life, after becoming the adopted daughter of the Elandria family, she had attended many parties but was never genuinely welcomed.

Even the highly anticipated graduation ball had left her with nothing but terrible memories. Yet today, Diane had insisted that Nerys come early and stay by her side.

When Alecto left to rejoin her friends, Diane immediately turned to Nerys with a warm smile.

“Riz, is there anything you’d like to eat? I had them prepare things you can’t get at the school cafeteria. What do you like? There are cookies with rose jam, almonds dipped in chocolate, or I can bring you some warm milk with honey.”

The school cafeteria served decent meals, but they were naturally limited. Though Nerys wasn’t picky about food, having often gone hungry due to her husband’s whims during her time as crown princess, children accustomed to home-cooked meals tailored to their tastes frequently complained.

Even the pickiest of children would have found it difficult to complain about the food offered by the MacKinnon family’s daughter at this party.

“I’ve eaten plenty. Thank you for being so considerate.”

Nerys replied with a polite smile, adhering to proper etiquette. At that moment, Angharad Nine, who had been glancing their way, approached timidly with a shy expression.

“Um, thank you for inviting me to the party, Diane. Nel, um, your hair looks so pretty today.”

Angharad deliberately shortened Nerys’s name to “Nel,” as if trying to suggest a close relationship.

Nerys’s platinum blonde hair, renowned for its angelic sheen despite her lack of attendants, was styled in an especially lovely half-up look today. Angharad’s compliment, for once, wasn’t insincere.

“Thank you. Your hair looks pretty too,” Nerys responded in her characteristically graceful and mesmerizing tone, which seemed to enchant anyone who heard it.

Angharad wore a cream-colored satin ribbon, currently popular in social circles. Nerys remembered from her past life how Angharad used to boast about this ribbon during their school days. It was an expensive gift from Baron Nine, purchased from a famous atelier in the capital to ensure his daughter wouldn’t feel inferior at the Academy.

What’s her deal?

Meanwhile, Diane, the hostess of the party, wore an unimpressed expression. Diane knew Nerys disliked being called “Nel” and found it grating that Angharad acted as though they were very close while being oblivious to such a simple detail.

When neither Diane nor Nerys showed much interest in her, Angharad left to mingle with other students. Lower-ranking nobles like Angharad had already held a few gatherings among themselves, and Angharad’s rather cute appearance had earned her a few friendly acquaintances.

The moment Angharad walked away, Diane’s demeanor shifted. She warmly turned to Nerys and suggested, “I have a card game I really like. Let’s play it together, okay?”

“Sure. How many players?”

“Just the two of us!”

The MacKinnon servants, who had advised their young lady to invite the entire class and worked tirelessly to make the party a success, exchanged awkward smiles.

The proper etiquette for a host was to show equal attention to all attendees. While Nerys was undoubtedly poised and intelligent, making her a positive influence on Diane, social connections in high society were generally better kept broad.

At that moment, a servant carrying lavender-infused drinks bumped into a child running wildly through the party.

Although the servant barely managed to keep his balance, some of the glasses spilled, and one child, now drenched in a cold, sticky drink, shrieked.

“Ah! It’s freezing!”

“My apologies, my deepest apologies, miss!”

Laughter erupted around them. The drenched child’s personal maid quickly arrived to help her change into fresh clothes. Others who had been splashed but not soaked continued enjoying the party without concern.

Noticing that Angharad’s ribbon was partially soaked, Nerys’s eyes glinted with intrigue.

—

As Nerys reached into her bag, she suddenly paused.

A crinkling noise—thin, stiff, and dry. She immediately recognized the sensation, having experienced it before.

“Is something wrong?”

Diane, sitting next to her and rummaging through her own bag, tilted her head curiously. Nerys replied nonchalantly, “Nothing.”

There was no reason to be upset. In her past life, such pranks had happened at least once every few days.

In fact, she preferred this—something “dry.” It was better than a dead rat. And far better than a live one.

Still, while the unpleasantness was lesser, the situation left her feeling strange.

Who had stuffed dead spiders into her bag? And not just one or two by the feel of it.

There were plenty of potential culprits among the freshmen. Especially Megara and her followers.

But few people were both shameless enough and willing to handle something so disgusting themselves.

Nerys silently narrowed down the list in her mind. Perhaps the culprit was a boy?

Young boys often played such pranks for no reason other than to see a startled reaction. As someone who had often been their target, Nerys despised such thoughtless actions but had been powerless to stop them in the past.

Now, however, she could respond with a method far more effective than crying or pleading her case. Thankfully.

—

As the freshmen chatted cheerfully about their weekend parties while waiting for the teacher, a cautious voice beside her broke the noise.

“Nel, why did you stop when you reached into your bag earlier?”

Angharad Nine. Diane’s patience frayed at the sight of her sitting next to Nerys again.

She’s here again.

Had it not been for the incident at Diane’s party this weekend, where Angharad’s ribbon had gotten soaked in lavender-scented drink, Diane might have bluntly told her off.

But Diane still remembered how the ribbon would need special cleaning to remove the stain and hesitated.

Her hesitation gave Nerys enough time to fully observe Angharad. Nerys offered her a brighter smile than usual.

“And why do you ask?”

Angharad’s wide, round eyes always gave her an innocent and harmless appearance. But Nerys had a good idea of who might have tampered with her bag.

Glancing slightly to the side, she caught Megara looking in their direction. When their eyes met, Megara flinched.

Nerys smiled at her, too, before turning back to wait for Angharad’s response.