Chapter 25
After Nerys left, Cledwyn approached the chair she had been sitting in and infused mana into its armrest.
“Master, Nerys Truydd is strange.”
As if on cue, a light voice spoke from the direction of the pillar. Cledwyn exhaled sharply.
“I already knew that.”
“If you want my assessment, I’d say she’s an incredibly nasty little brat.”
“I didn’t ask for an assessment.”
“Not asking doesn’t mean I won’t give one. Didn’t you outgrow formal debates when you were a child?”
Cledwyn didn’t respond.
Because he selected people based on ability alone, his shadow group, ‘Yaheon’, was filled with all sorts of personalities. It was impossible to find someone in their ranks with a good temperament.
A subordinate who simply followed orders without question would end up dead in no time.
The voice inside the pillar kept rambling.
“Do you know what Nerys Truydd did on her way to the library just now? She saw Count Isalani’s daughter alone and threw a stone at her. Of course, Rhiannon Berta was the one blamed. Angharad Nine may have held grudges from back home. But Rhiannon Berta? She only met Nerys for the first time at the academy. Just because she acted a little coldly? No, high-ranking noble heirs acting arrogant is nothing new. But going that far? That’s just deranged.”
“So?”
Cledwyn leaned the back of his head against the pillar.
“You don’t like her?”
“What are you saying?”
The voice in the pillar responded shamelessly.
“You chose her, Master. We follow your decision.”
“Good.”
Cledwyn closed his eyes.
“There’s not much time left. I need more people on my side.”
And they needed to be reliable.
Loyal subordinates, unconnected to any other faction.
—
Dance class was, for most students, a fun and enjoyable lesson.
It didn’t require staring at books or strictly following etiquette. It encouraged movement and conversation with partners. Plus, there was always music.
Because of these advantages, most students arrived at dance class in high spirits.
Of course, “most” implied exceptions.
The entrance to Judith Hall, where the lower-grade dance classes were held, was bustling. Students were busy changing into their dance shoes or chatting with friends.
Boys discreetly glanced at popular girls, while girls eyed popular boys, contemplating how to secure a dance with them.
Alecto Isalani didn’t particularly enjoy dance class.
Not since she had been humiliated by an obnoxious classmate.
Before entering the academy, as a proud count’s daughter, she had—secretly—witnessed grand balls. She had dreamed of one day dancing gracefully, captivating everyone’s gaze.
But in reality, the ones who stood out at balls were the beautiful and wealthy.
Like Megara.
“Al.”
Since they had attended the previous class together, Aidalia had accompanied Alecto on the way to Judith Hall. She now called out to her, motioning toward something.
Alecto followed her gaze and frowned.
It was Rhiannon, her head bowed.
“Looks like she’s got no one to play with.”
Alecto scoffed.
Until recently, the person she despised most had been Angharad Nine—a sneaky, thieving girl with sticky fingers.
She had flitted about, trying to curry favor with everyone, and—just as expected—she had dared to steal from none other than the daughter of Count Isalani. Naturally, everyone had come to despise such a thief.
But after yesterday, Angharad’s spot at the top of Alecto’s blacklist had been replaced by Rhiannon Berta.
Alecto had always thought Rhiannon was too arrogant for her station and bound to cause trouble eventually. Even after her true nature was exposed, Alecto had been lenient, occasionally acknowledging her out of old acquaintance.
But then, the nerve—Rhiannon had dared to hold a grudge and throw a stone at her.
Amidst the chattering students, who were walking in small groups, Rhiannon alone stood isolated, like a rock tossed into a stream.
The other students naturally avoided her, passing her by without a second glance.
Alecto watched the scene with satisfaction before suddenly bending down to pick up a small stone from the ground.
“What are you doing?”
Aidalia’s eyes widened.
‘Pretending to be innocent now?’
Alecto smirked inwardly. She knew Aidalia had played a major role in ensuring Rhiannon was left alone.
But unlike Rhiannon, who was merely the illegitimate daughter of a count’s second son, Aidalia was a marquis’s daughter. Alecto couldn’t call her out for being fake.
“Don’t stop me.”
This was just retribution.
Alecto warned her and, seizing the moment when most students had already entered the building, threw the stone at Rhiannon.
It was only the size of a fingernail and thrown with the strength of a child—hardly enough to cause real injury.
But it would still hurt.
“Ouch!”
‘Snap!’ The stone struck and rolled away.
Rhiannon yelped instinctively.
A few students snickered maliciously.
– “Did you hear that? She actually said ‘Ouch’! That’s hilarious!”‘
Even Alecto found Rhiannon’s startled reaction amusing.
Rhiannon looked around, trying to determine what had happened, and locked eyes with Alecto, who had stopped walking and was staring straight at her.
Realization dawned on Rhiannon, and her face turned bright red.
“What the hell?”
“What?”
Alecto glared at her challengingly.
Rhiannon glanced down at the stone near her feet, then fixed her burning gaze on Alecto.
“Hey, Alecto Isalani. Did you throw this?”
“What are you talking about?”
Alecto shrugged exaggeratedly, making sure everyone, including Aidalia, could hear her response.
Rhiannon picked up the stone and held it out.
“You threw this, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t.”
Aidalia remained silent, as if she didn’t want to lie outright. But there was a glint of satisfaction in her eyes.
Alecto spotted someone nearby who had yet to enter the building and turned to them for confirmation.
“Hey, Nerys Truydd. Diane MacKinnon. You tell me—do you have any idea what she’s going on about?”
Diane usually spent dance class sitting in a chair, but on days when slow waltzes were taught, she occasionally participated. Regardless of whether they danced or not, all students were required to change into dance shoes at the entrance of the building, and today, Nerys was helping her with that.
Diane frowned at the ongoing exchange, uninterested in whatever Alecto and Rhiannon were arguing about. But Nerys? She was staring at Alecto intently, her gaze piercing.
“What? Why are you glaring at me?”
“I’m not glaring.”
Alecto, having already witnessed Nerys Truydd’s temperament a few times, was surprised by the unexpectedly mild response.
For a moment, she was at a loss for words.
“Did you see what she just did to me?”
It was Rhiannon who spoke first.
Her expression could only be described as grim. The emotions in her upturned eyes dripped with negativity. Alecto snorted.
She knew no one in their grade would side with Rhiannon.
…Well, could Nerys Truydd even be considered one of their peers?
Did she even have that kind of social awareness?
Nerys’s expression was odd.
Her lips curved slightly—was it a hesitant smile? A smirk? Was she amused or uncomfortable? The arch of her lips was so ambiguous that it was impossible to tell. And then there were those famous violet eyes—cold and unreadable.
Alecto eyed her warily.
Nerys always looked pristine despite not having a single servant. She was different from the others their age.
So maybe she would act differently too.
“Who knows?”
Fortunately, Nerys finally answered in a light, innocent voice.
Of course, no one in the first year actually believed she was innocent.
That tone made Rhiannon seethe.
Alecto chuckled.
‘Nerys wasn’t stupid, after all.’
If she had sided with a bullied idiot, Alecto would have made sure she suffered the same fate.
“You saw it!”
Rhiannon’s frustration boiled over.
She remembered—right after she had been hit with the stone, she had looked around and locked eyes with Nerys.
Judging by the timing, Nerys had clearly witnessed Alecto throwing the stone.
Yet now, she was saying ‘Who knows?’
Nerys’s voice took on a sing-song quality.
“Saw what, exactly?”
“You looked right at me just now!”
“I heard you scream, so I glanced over. Everyone did.”
“You nasty little—!”
Rhiannon spat out the insult, directing it at Nerys instead.
She wouldn’t dare say that to Alecto.
Her fury was sharp, but Nerys remained unfazed, smiling as if amused.
“Why am I the bad guy? Weren’t you just accusing Alecto of throwing a stone at you? So now you’re just lashing out at whoever? That’s hilarious.”
Alecto burst into laughter.
Even Aidalia smiled, though a bit cautiously.
The students watching the scene muttered in annoyance.
– “Ugh, why is she like that?”
– “I don’t know. She always ruins the mood.”
– “I wish she’d just disappear from school already.”
Tears welled up in Rhiannon’s eyes.
Alecto, sensing the complete support of the crowd, spoke with unshaken confidence.
“Do you have proof? Huh? Any proof? If not, then shut up, idiot.”
Aidalia tugged on Alecto’s sleeve.
‘Acting innocent again.’
Alecto thought the same thing as before, but this time, she let it slide and turned away.
She had given as good as she got.
Alecto was the type to return tenfold, but there was no rule saying she had to do all ten today.
—
Today was an entertaining spectacle.
Nerys concluded as she stepped into her room.
Alecto was the kind who never let things go.
Her inferiority complex made her react excessively whenever she felt humiliated.
That was why she had stirred up chaos at Angharad’s party.
That was why she had publicly humiliated Rhiannon when she decided she was an enemy.
Yesterday, when Alecto had been hit by the stone and Rhiannon had been in the vicinity, it hadn’t been a random event.
Nerys had been waiting for an opportunity since the letter incident.
If things hadn’t worked out the first time, she would have tried a second, a third, as many times as needed.
Cledwyn was right—it was a precarious plan.
But it had yielded the results she wanted.
And from now on, she could aim for something even easier, something more certain.
With that thought, a twisted sense of satisfaction mixed with self-loathing followed.
Of course, Nerys had seen it.
She had been watching Alecto, waiting for her to make a move.
Given that Alecto and Rhiannon shared few classes, she had correctly predicted that if anything were to happen, it would be during dance class.
– “Don’t make me laugh! Do you have proof?”
It was a disgusting line.
She hadn’t stayed and watched out of amusement—she had stayed because she owed herself that much.
But seeing the other students join in, ridiculing Rhiannon, had made her sick.
Alecto would get what was coming to her soon.
And when that happened, Nerys cynically hoped Rhiannon would at least find some comfort in it.
‘…Huh?’
As she set her bag down beside the bed, something on the floor caught her eye.
A white envelope lay just inside the doorway.
Nerys frowned.
The dormitory caretaker was a young man who, to put it nicely, respected boundaries—or to put it bluntly, was too lazy to do extra work.
There was no way he had personally delivered this.
Someone had come by.
There was nothing worth stealing in her room, and it didn’t seem like anyone had entered.
Still, the thought was unsettling.
Nerys stepped forward and picked up the envelope.
There was no writing on the outside, but inside was a single sheet of folded white paper.
Both the envelope and the paper were of fine quality, with uniform grain and flawless color.
[‘Congratulations.’]
That was the only word written.
But the elegant handwriting and the abrupt, no-nonsense phrasing told her exactly who the sender was.
What was he trying to say?
After a brief moment of thought, she retrieved a pen and inkwell from her bag and scribbled three short sentences beneath Cledwyn’s message.
This was likely his way of establishing a method of communication.
But why couldn’t he just explain things in a normal way?
[‘Since when were we the kind to exchange congratulations?’ P.S. Buy Halograss from Lantville for me. Deduct it from my future wages.]
Nerys blew softly on the ink until it dried.
Once she was sure, she folded the paper again and slipped it back into the envelope.
Then, she wedged it just slightly into the crack of the door.
The next morning, when she woke up, the envelope was gone.
