Private Tutor to the Duke's Daughter: Volume 6 E-Book

Riku Nanano

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Serie: Private Tutor to the Duke's Daughter
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 287

Beschreibung

Lydia and Allen have always been a team. They can overcome any challenge together—so what happens when they’re apart? Allen has gone missing in the midst of a bloody insurrection. Witnesses to the enterprising tutor’s last stand fear the worst, while the plight of his beastfolk friends and family in the east grows more desperate by the day. Lydia wants nothing more than to rush to her partner’s aid, but with rebels occupying the capital and the opportunistic League of Principalities encroaching on her family’s lands, the Lady of the Sword will need to do the one thing she’s never been good at—wait. Her sister Lynne watches with growing concern as uncertainty takes its toll on her. What lines will Lydia dare to cross in her desperation to end this latest Southern War?

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Characters

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Epilogue

Afterword

Color Illustrations

About J-Novel Club

Copyright

Landmarks

Table of Contents

Color Illustrations

Prologue

“Just a little farther, Miss Fosse,” I said. “We’ll pause for a short rest at the top of this hill, so please be patient a little while longer!”

“O-Of course. I’m sorry, Emma. Oh, if only I had more stamina,” Miss Felicia Fosse replied from behind me, her head drooping with shame. The head clerk of Allen & Co.—a joint business venture by the Ducal Houses of Leinster and Howard—was simply charming.

“Rebellion by reactionary nobles under Duke Algren!” read the unprecedented, urgent report that I—Emma, the Leinster Maid Corps’s number four—had received in the gray of this morning. Under my command, the maids stationed at Allen & Co. had repelled the rebel assault on our firm. At present, we were climbing a hill on the southern edge of the royal capital, guarding Miss Fosse as we fled the chaos of the city.

It had been a near thing. I shuddered to think what would have become of us if not for Mr. Allen’s letter asking us to keep an eye on the forces conducting maneuvers near the capital, just to be safe.

We needed to make good our escape and report to the Ducal House of Leinster in the southern capital as soon as possible. But Miss Fosse was rather frail, so, as leader of the Society for Covertly Smoothing the Way for Miss Fosse’s Romance, I was carrying her piggyback.

Ah, the perks of my job.

On the crown of the hill, I set Miss Fosse down on a small boulder. “Time for a breather,” I told the twenty-odd other maids. “Remain vigilant. That goes for those of you in service to the Howards as well.”

“Yes, ma’am!” they responded in unison and fell into a defensive formation around the visibly exhausted Miss Fosse. That done, one maid after another began to wait on her.

“Have some water, Miss Fosse!”

“Allow me to wipe away that sweat.”

“Do your feet hurt?”

“I’ll carry you next!”

“Your spectacles are dirty. Let me clean them.”

“I...I’m fine!” Miss Fosse cried, her face, which had been pale with fatigue, blushing bright red. “Jeez! I w-wish you wouldn’t baby me so much!” Her long pale-chestnut hair shook as she balled up her little fists and snapped at the maids, but their smiles remained unperturbed.

Oh, she looks simply precious. I could feel my morale surging. I swear I’ll deliver her safely to the southern capital!

A fair-skinned beauty with long white hair and gold-and-silver eyes—the Leinster Maid Corps’s number eight, Cordelia—approached me and whispered in my ear, “Emma, I got in touch with the Leinster mansion’s staff. It sounds like they all made it out in one piece.” We had joined up at the same time and spoke freely with each other.

“Understood. Thank goodness.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

Now, if we can only get clear of the city ourselves—

“Hm? Th-The palace!” Miss Fosse shrieked.

We all stared down at the same sight. Ribbons of smoke were rising from the royal palace. Broken spires attested to fierce fighting, which was apparently still ongoing. Intercepted magical communications revealed that the forces flooding into the palace included the cream of the rebel crop—the Violet Order, under the command of the grand knight Haag Harclay. The royal guard was formidable and the royal family’s personal bodyguards renowned, but they were vastly outnumbered. It was only a matter of time until the palace fell.

“Emma, ma’am, we’re being pursued,” Bella, a Leinster maid with short brown hair, reported. She had been dispatching little magical birds while standing guard. Taxing her mana since early morning had left her visibly fatigued—controlling magical creatures for extended periods of time was a grueling task, even for an expert sorceress. Not everyone could be Mr. Allen.

“How many soldiers, and how are they equipped?” I asked.

“About fifty light cavalry. No infantry or sorcerers. I suspect they’re organized for mobility.”

“Hm... Bella, recall your birds. Keeping them out any longer will be bad for your health.”

“No! I...I’m fine! I can still keep going!” the girl protested. At fifteen, she was the youngest maid here.

“None of that. Mr. Allen charged me to make all of your safety my top priority, and I don’t have the courage to take a scolding from him.”

After a tense silence, Bella finally said, “Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ve done well. Leave the rest to us.” I gave her a pat on the shoulder. We would never have gotten clear of the city so easily without her help. Then, I turned back to the young head clerk, who looked perfectly darling even when she was frantically gulping water from a flask. “Miss Fosse, there seem to be pursuers on our track. Hurry ahead with the rest of the maids; I’ll guard our rear. Cordelia, I temporarily transfer command to you.”

“Understood.”

“Emma?!” Miss Fosse’s eyes widened behind her glasses as she rose to her feet. “I...I won’t let you put yourself in danger like that!”

“I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine,” I said. “Despite appearances, I’m—”

“Have no fear, Miss Fosse,” a voice suddenly interrupted. “I’ll join her in the rear guard.”

“Sally?!” Miss Fosse exclaimed. “B-But...”

The nonchalant offer came from a maid in service to the Ducal House of Howard. Her blonde hair stopped at her ears, she wore spectacles, and she had a large bosom despite her petite figure. Her expression seemed unreadable at first glance, but she was far too stubborn to dissuade quickly.

There’s no sense fighting her.

“This is our best course of action now,” I said, clasping the lovely Miss Fosse’s hands. “Don’t worry on our account. We’ll catch up to you in no time.”

Her limpid eyes betrayed inner turmoil. I was a houseless immigrant from the southern isles, dark of hair and skin, yet this kind young lady harbored no prejudices against me. At last, she nodded. “I understand. But promise me that you’ll both catch up to us soon. I’m asking you as a friend, not as Allen & Co.’s head clerk!”

“We promise,” Sally and I answered in unison, smiling. Miss Fosse’s kindness warmed my heart.

“All right, then. Get ready, everyone!” I commanded the maids.

“Always stay on the move,” Sally added.

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Huh? What? Whaaat?! H-Hang on! Emma?! Sally?!” As four maids swiftly hoisted Miss Fosse onto their shoulders and broke into a run alongside the others, she looked back and shouted, “Please...Please catch up to us soon! We’ll be waiting for you up ahead! I promise we will!”

She truly is a gentle soul.

We nodded and waved to her.

Once Miss Fosse and the others were out of sight, I turned to the deadpan, bespectacled maid beside me and said, “What were you thinking, Sally? I hate to lighten Miss Fosse’s guard.”

“What did you expect?” she replied. “I can’t let you be the only one to show off.”

“Is that what they taught you in the Howard Maid Corps?”

“I believe his letter read, ‘If, by any chance, the worst should happen in the royal capital, I positively forbid you to act alone. That goes for you too, Emma, Sally.’”

I groaned. She had me there. Mr. Allen’s letters from the eastern capital had included several directions for us that Miss Fosse wasn’t to know about.

Sally appeared emotionless. She was merely toying with the arms of her spectacles. But I could tell—she was smirking! What an unpleasant person!

I sighed. “I always suspected that he was overprotective, but now I’m certain of it. And not even we are exempt.”

“I concur,” Sally said, folding her arms and nodding. “But I’m glad of it. I doubt there are many maids feebler than me, yet gentlemen all act frightened of me for some reason.” Her expression remained impassive, although she gave a quizzical tilt of her head. Was the way her posture emphasized her chest meant to antagonize me?

“As to you being feeble, I beg to differ,” I responded, feeling vexed after a glance at my own bosom, “but I appreciate his concern as much as you do. Especially as no one would ever mistake me for a native of this kingdom.”

“Your hair and skin are lovely,” Sally said, scrutinizing me with an expression that seemed to ask why I had bothered stating anything so obvious. She was always truthful at times like this.

“Thank you,” I responded, slightly embarrassed. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Allen complimented me on them just the other day.”

“Why, Emma, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him.” The inexpressive young woman made a show of covering her mouth in surprise. “Oh my.”

“Don’t you ‘Oh my’ me!” I snapped. “Or at least try to put some feeling into it! I merely thought that Miss Fosse certainly has her work cut out for her. After all, she’ll need to contend with not only Lady Lydia, but also Lady Stella and— Is something the matter?”

Sally was staring northward into the distance with an inscrutable look on her face. “My pigheaded elder brother always fancied Lady Stella,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “And I hear he’s been made her personal butler. I can’t shake the feeling that, even as we speak, he’s struggling fruitlessly despite cruel reality staring him in the face.”

“Oh.” I could feel the same inscrutable expression spread across my face as well.

Lady Stella Howard was Miss Fosse’s best friend—and romantic rival. Among the Leinster Maid Corps, it was whispered that she might even stand a chance of dethroning Lady Lydia if matters went on as they had been.

“Your brother must be uncommonly daring,” I told Sally. “He has my sincere respect. As his sister, shouldn’t you return to the north to cheer him on?”

“I don’t have time to waste on odds that long,” she replied. “And I wouldn’t dream of obstructing Lady Stella’s romance. Our young ladies are quite as lovely as yours, you know—a saint and a fairy. My posting to the royal capital is still a secret, so I’m looking forward to seeing them again.”

“I quite agree that they’re both charming.”

I pictured the faces of Lady Stella and her younger sister, Lady Tina. Their lessons with Mr. Allen—Lady Tina and Lady Lynne frolicking together while Miss Walker looked on—were a relaxing sight.

“My grandmother—our head maid, Shelley Walker—told me privately to treat Mr. Allen’s instructions as though they came from her or her husband, Graham,” Sally said and threw out her chest, reminding me of our number three. “He saved our dear little Lady Tina, and Lady Stella as well. I’m deeply indebted to him.”

“So am I,” I responded. “Anna—our head maid and my mentor—gave me strict orders to follow Mr. Allen’s directions! I’m determined to repay him for saving Lady Lydia, and I’m personally indebted to him as well.” I paused. “We immigrants see our own dreams in him. He gives us hope that even we and the beastfolk and the houseless can achieve better lives.”

“Then acting alone is out of the question,” Sally said earnestly.

After a brief silence, I decided not to argue. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Just then, a crack appeared in Sally’s poker face—she smiled.

“Oh, it appears we have company,” I said, also sensing the mana.

“Yes, although they’re rather worse for wear.”

Twenty-some lancers galloped up the slope. Our traps had thinned their ranks considerably. But rebels though they were, they had done well to break through at all—the head maid had personally instructed me in the art of laying snares. The knights were evidently cautious, because they stopped at a safe distance when they spotted us and began preparing offensive, defensive, and enhancement spells.

“I am Viscount Zad Belgique!” a large, bearded man in armor and helmet bellowed from the rear of the group. “I take it you women are in service to the Ducal House of Leinster. Resistance will do you no good. Surrender quietly, and I promise you leniency!”

Viscount Belgique was, if I recalled correctly, an eastern nobleman relatively well known for his monster-slaying exploits. But really, a viscount?

“That could have gone better,” I said, sharing a dejected look with Sally.

“I’d hoped for an earl at the very least,” she responded.

We both shrugged.

A mere viscount? What a failure of judgment! How could they think so little of Miss Fosse?

“Well,” I said, nodding to Sally, “he must know something.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she agreed, nodding back.

“Wh-What impudence!” the viscount barked. “Didn’t you hear me?!”

I gave him a glacial look and said, “Be quiet.”

“And, if possible, contact someone holding at least the rank of earl,” Sally added.

The viscount’s face flushed crimson with rage. “Seize those women!” he roared.

“Yes, sir!” Nine knights immediately spurred their horses toward us.

“I’ll take the vanguard,” Sally announced, focusing mana into her arms and legs as she sprinted forward.

“Very well,” I responded as I, too, prepared for battle.

Confusion appeared on the knights’ faces, but still they charged on. The lead rider mercilessly thrust his lance at Sally—a splendid strike. He had skill. Nevertheless...

The knight’s face twisted in shock as he cried, “What nonsense is—”

“Insults say more about the speaker than the spoken to. At least, that’s the prevailing notion,” the bespectacled maid said without a hint of emotion as she casually seized the point of the lance and crushed it with her bare hands. Then she leapt, slamming a kick into one of the lead knights’ armor. The man went flying off his horse, and Sally kicked off his saddle to give chase. With a sharp cry, she drove her magically charged little fist into the airborne knight, smashing him into the ground. The downed knight groaned as his helmet flew off and his armor shivered to pieces. Sally landed beside him, looking smug.

Yikes.

I shuddered slightly. Meanwhile, the remaining knights charged me—until an easy wave of my hands unseated the startled riders and left them hanging in midair. Their steeds galloped away.

“Catching lances and smashing breastplates barehanded?” I said to Sally, with an exaggerated shake of my head. “No wonder gentlemen fear you.”

“I’m certain that the average person would find a maid whose mysterious attacks incapacitate eight riders at once far more horrifying,” she retorted. “Oh, I’m s-so scared. I can’t stop tr-trembling with t-terror.”

We shared a giggle, but our smiles did not reach our eyes.

Good grief! What a rude maid. And was that last bit her impression of Miss Walker? It was spot on, even though she never dropped her poker face, but that only makes me madder.

In the meantime, the knights had fainted, so I released the magically concealed black threads with which I’d bound them and let them tumble to the ground. As our head maid always said, “Focus on applying pressure to the entire enemy force.”

“Name yourselves! I can tell you’re no ordinary maids!” Viscount Belgique shrieked. He still had some fight left in him.

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” I replied. “How could I neglect to introduce myself?”

“Emma,” Sally cautioned me, “my angelic cousin is the only clumsy maid the world needs.”

I gave her a reproachful stare. This disagreeable maid just had to have the last word. Then, I curtsied and said, “My name is Emma, and I hold the post of number four in the Leinster Maid Corps.”

“And I am Sally Walker, number four in the Howard Maid Corps.”

“Did you say Walker?!” Viscount Belgique cried. He and his remaining knights blanched. Graham “the Abyss” Walker apparently had quite a reputation, even in the east.

I shot a smug look at the bespectacled maid, who for once wore a sour expression.

“It’s old stories of grandpa they’re scared of, not me,” she grumbled.

Tee hee hee. Sally really must be doomed to inspire fear in gentlemen. Her pretty face and buxom bosom can’t change that!

“Are we done here?” I asked, flashing a smile at the viscount. “If so, I suggest you tell us everything you know, and I do mean everything.”

“O-Oh dear,” Sally chimed in, taking the opportunity to get in another dig at me with her Miss Walker impression. “Y-You’re scaring me, Emma. I’m quivering with fright!”

I pressed a hand to my forehead, then deployed my invisible black threads over the whole vicinity. The deadpan maid clenched her fists as she focused her immense mana into her limbs.

“I asked you to at least put some feeling into it!” I snapped, sighing. “Time to finish this!”

“Yes,” Sally said, “let’s make this quick and earn a compliment from Miss Fosse.”

Chapter 1

“Damn it! What’s happening in the royal capital?! Is His Majesty safe?! How could the Algrens launch a coup?” The man across from me groaned. His hair was platinum with a tinge of azure, and he wore a look of anguish.

“Walter, we’ve no time to waste grousing,” said the scholarly man sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed. “We must face facts. Don’t you agree, Stella?”

“Yes, Professor,” I replied and nodded, then lowered my gaze to the floor. “But the fact is that we don’t have enough information.”

We were in the duke’s office in the Howard estate on the outskirts of the northern capital. The frustrated man was my father, Walter Howard, one of the Four Great Dukes, and the scholarly gentleman was the professor, his close friend and one of the kingdom’s foremost sorcerers.

“Algren rebellion! Royal capital, palace taken! His Majesty’s safety uncertain!” read the terse but undeniably ill tidings that had reached the northern capital the previous night. One of my house’s retainers had sent it using a communication spell after narrowly escaping the royal capital.

The rebellion had broken out on Darknessday. This was only Waterday, and there were still many gaps in our knowledge. The situation seemed convoluted.

My father, the professor, and our head butler, Graham Walker, who kept a respectful distance, would decide the ultimate response of the Ducal House of Howard. I, Stella Howard, would normally have no place in their deliberations, but a remark from the professor had abruptly changed that.

“Walter,” he had said, “Stella is your heir. An experience like this will do her good. I’m certain that Allen would say the same.”

And so, here I was, while my younger sister, Tina, and her personal maid, Ellie, waited in their rooms. I hadn’t been able to tell them anything yet, although I would need to once we decided how our house would act. In retrospect, the mark of the great spell Frigid Crane, which had appeared on the back of Tina’s hand last Lightday night, might have been warning us of this disaster.

“Graham, you must have some new intelligence!” my father snapped.

“Unfortunately not,” Graham replied, shaking his head. Seeing him like this brought home to me how closely he resembled Roland Walker, my personal butler for the summer. But Roland had yet to develop Graham’s composure—he had responded to news of the rebellion with a flustered “Impossible!” Not that I was in any position to judge him for that.

I stroked the black cat on my lap—Anko, the professor’s familiar—as I recalled the previous night. I had been extremely agitated when our head maid, Shelley, had given me the news late in the evening. An Algren uprising meant danger to my best friend, Felicia Fosse, and my house’s retainers in the royal capital, as well as my other best friend, Caren, and Mr. Allen in the east. Mr. Allen was my tutor, and I cared deeply for—

“Let’s review what we do know,” the professor said. With a wave of his hand, he conjured a map of the kingdom and its neighbors in the center of the room.

Mr. Allen used light magic like this too!

Five points of light then appeared on the map of the kingdom. The one that was almost dead center was the royal capital, while the remaining lights marked the capitals of the four duchies in the north, east, south, and west. All glowed white, except for the dark point marking the eastern capital.

“The Ducal House of Algren, which governs the easternmost of our kingdom’s Four Great Duchies, has united the conservative nobility in a rebellion against the Royal House of Wainwright’s push for meritocracy,” the professor explained. “They call it the ‘Great Cause.’ The Violet Order and other Algren troops conducting maneuvers near the royal capital have captured the city. We still don’t know whether His Majesty or the rest of the royal family are safe.”

The royal capital darkened. Railroad lines and air lanes then appeared on the map, which split into light and dark sections to reflect the balance of power. Every key point in the eastern and central regions had fallen into rebel hands.

“The royal capital is the hub of our kingdom’s transit networks, including railroads, griffins, and wyverns. Its fall cuts us off from the other ducal houses.” The professor took a breath. “Once they began their assault, they must have stopped a great number of letters and packages in the royal capital. That explains why we haven’t been receiving mail by griffin or wyvern. I should have noticed something was amiss then—the Skyhawk Company takes great pains to ensure that their griffins deliver on time.”

We had written to Mr. Allen in the eastern capital but received no reply. Reports had blamed foul weather, but...

If only I had realized sooner!

“Likewise, we can’t reach the royal capital by telephone, and magical communications are being jammed over a vast area.” The professor stood up and pointed to two circles in the east of the kingdom that had turned neither white nor black. “Based on our incomplete information, Marquesses Gardner and Crom appear to be holding themselves aloof and waiting to see which way the wind blows. They probably plan to back the winning horse. The only silver lining is that the rebel forces haven’t moved since they occupied the royal capital. The Algrens specialized in defending the eastern border, so I suspect they’re experiencing logistical issues.”

“What do you suppose Gerhard Gardner is up to?” my father asked slowly.

Gerhard Gardner was the leader of the court sorcerers. He had been known as a hard-line aristocrat before the rebellion, so there was every possibility that he would collude with the Algrens. But the professor’s reply was matter-of-fact.

“He’s guarding His Majesty.”

“Why do you think so?” my father pressed.

“Because he’s a patriot, after his fashion,” the professor said. “Suppose—just suppose—that Gardner defected and slew His Majesty and the royal family. What then?”

“We would have unimpeachable grounds to put down the rebel army,” Graham interjected icily, without a hint of his usual grandfatherly demeanor. He was dispassionately stating his opinion as Duke Howard’s spymaster. “In that case, the throne would likely pass west to His Majesty’s younger brother or nephew. And the new king would have the support of the Ducal Houses of Howard, Leinster, and Lebufera.”

“Naturally, the Algrens would proclaim one of their own king or elevate a puppet,” the professor added, “but they could never escape the infamy of usurpation. Gardner is no fool. He knows better than to take action—at least for the present.”

My father closed his eyes, looking distressed. After a few moments, he gloomily pronounced, “Under normal circumstances, I would dispatch troops to the royal capital at once. But that isn’t possible.”

“No wonder the Yustinian Empire is conducting military exercises along our northern border,” the professor said. “They’re in league with the rebels. Graham.”

“I exterminated all the imperial ‘rats’ I’d left at large in the duchy as soon as the report arrived. They had very little to say for themselves, but I did gather one bit of intelligence—the Yustinian crown prince is in command.”

Graham’s words hung in the air for a moment.

“The crown prince, you say?” my father repeated.

“Well now,” the professor mused. “The empire is in earnest.”

Both men’s eyes narrowed as a dreadful gloom pervaded the room.

The Yustinian Empire had been conducting a massive military exercise along the border of Galois, a region that my house had won from them in one of our northern campaigns. The identity of the imperial commander had been shrouded in mystery, but never in my wildest dreams had I imagined the crown prince himself was leading the operation. I cracked under the pressure and hugged Anko.

As...As things stand, we’ll never be able to march on the eastern capital—to save Caren and Mr. Allen!

“The same is probably true of the aggressive moves that the League of Principalities has been making in the south.” The professor sighed. “Walter, Graham.”

“Yes?” both men replied.

The professor remained silent, resting a hand on his chin. His eyes were frighteningly intelligent. Then, he sat up straight and declared, “What a bother. Let’s crush them.”

“Professor?” my father said, startled.

“What do you mean by that?” Graham asked.

“Precisely what I said.” The professor raised his hands in a theatrical gesture. He seemed comical at first glance, but I recognized his rage. He was furious at the rebels, at the empire, at the League of Principalities...and, above all, at himself. “The empire is in our way, so let’s crush it, thoroughly and without mercy. Let’s beat them so badly that they can’t even cry about it and then leave them to, say, fight one of those civil wars they’re so fond of. Just as we did over fifty years ago.”

“Professor,” my father said slowly, “don’t ask the impossible.”

“Impossible? Impossible, Walter? If you honestly mean that, then peace has blunted your fangs, Wolf of the North.”

My father glared fiercely at the professor. “What do you mean by that?!” he barked as, in his anger, his mana leaked out and scattered ice crystals through the air.

“Allen suspected Algren treason,” the professor continued, unfazed. “I’m certain he warned you as he did me. And, after having their stores of matériel investigated, you denied the possibility. Am I wrong, Graham?”

“You are quite correct,” Graham slowly replied. My father remained silent.

“Mr. Allen guessed?!” I exclaimed, letting go of Anko to cover my mouth as I gasped.

It...It couldn’t be. Mr. Allen had foreseen this disaster, and we had failed to heed him?

The professor grimaced and tapped his finger on a long, thin, black box that rested on the table. “You and Liam are better off—you have less to reproach yourselves with,” he said. “But Allen laid out his fears to the old one—Lord Rodde, the Archmage—and me in person at the station in the eastern capital, and we dismissed them. We laughed and told him that no document the Algrens forged could ever fool us. We even took Gerard’s fire dagger from him. If only we’d at least left him this weapon, which must have belonged to some great sorcerer of antiquity! But some part of us couldn’t believe that one of the Four Great Dukes would do such a thing, and so none of us took his warnings seriously!”

He paused briefly, then continued in a calmer tone. “We’ve embarrassed ourselves for all the world to see. I don’t care for my reputation, of course, and I won’t lament any harm to it. Nevertheless”—darkness blotted out every last ice crystal; the professor’s regret was intense—“after acting such utter fools, we’ve no right to waste time twiddling our thumbs. We ought to make up our minds immediately. Especially because...because I know Allen. I’m certain that he’s done something reckless in the eastern capital. That boy could never stand idly by and watch as helpless people come to harm. He wouldn’t hesitate to give his life to defend the weak. Do you understand me, Walter, Graham? That’s who the Brain of the Lady of the Sword is—a seventeen-year-old child. By all rights, we should be protecting him.”

My father and Graham silently mulled over the meaning of the professor’s words: “He’s done something reckless in the eastern capital.”

Yes, I’m certain he has. That’s just what Mr. Allen—my magician—would do. And however strong he may be, his safety is far from assured.

Tears blurred my vision. The sudden, forceful reminder of a reality that I had tried to ignore shook me. Then, without warning, Anko licked my hand. The familiar, it seemed, was trying to comfort me.

“In the first place, Walter,” the professor said with a sigh, “remember all that Lydia and Allen have accomplished. The kingdom owes them for repelling a black dragon, slaying a four-winged devil and a pure-blooded vampire, and much, much more. If we pass up this chance to repay our debts, we won’t even be able to keep up with the interest. Above all...there’s the matter of the cursed children. The Leinsters and Howards are both deeply indebted to that boy.”

“You’re right,” my father said slowly. “Yes, you’re right. Graham!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Cursed child” was a derogatory term for children incapable of spellcasting. Tina had been called that behind her back until just a few months ago.

“Lydia” was Lady Lydia Leinster, also known as the Lady of the Sword. She was beautiful, almost unrivaled in the kingdom as both a swordswoman and a sorceress...and stood by Mr. Allen’s side. Meeting him had allowed both her and Tina to gain a command of magic and put the name of “cursed child” behind them. Still, something didn’t sit right with me. We were certainly in Mr. Allen’s debt, but was that really enough to shape the decisions of a ducal house?

“I hereby declare a state of war across the whole duchy, effective immediately! Summon the heads of every northern house!” my father commanded Graham. “I’ll consider anyone who drags their feet my enemy!”

“Certainly, sir. Might I make a request?”

“Name it.”

“Please leave logistics to my wife.” Graham smiled icily. “And permit me to stretch my legs a bit.”

“Granted,” my father replied. “You have carte blanche. Be thorough.”

Shelley, in charge of logistics?

“Oho.” The professor smiled, ignoring my confusion. “Then the kingdom’s finest military logistician, Shelley ‘the Mastermind’ Walker, and its most feared spymaster, Graham ‘the Abyss’ Walker, will be acting in concert? This should prove amusing. Oh, Walter. I have an idea.”

“What now?” my father asked.

“I suggest you assign Tina to Shelley’s command.”

“What?” my father and I blurted out in unison as we turned shocked stares on the professor.

“Listen closely, Walter. And you too, Stella,” the great sorcerer said with perfect self-possession. “Young Tina possesses talent to rival Lydia’s. Allen, of all people, dubbed her a genius.”

I felt the slightest of pangs in my heart. Even so, I was glad to hear my sister held in such high esteem.

“He and Lydia have encountered all manner of accomplished warriors and sorcerers in the past four years, and my department has no shortage of promising youngsters,” the professor continued. “But Allen never once called any of them a genius. That ought to give you some idea of Tina’s potential. It would be a crime to waste her talent.”

My father closed his mouth and folded his arms. At length, he said, “That’s for Tina to decide, but I won’t let her anywhere near a battlefield!”

“Naturally,” the professor responded, nodding as he picked up a notebook and tore a page from it. “I merely believe that we ought to let her shine in the rear echelon. This is education, Walter. All for the children’s own good. I seem to have picked up some of Allen’s bad habits. In any case, I’ll send Anko to the western capital posthaste. Using its darkness magic to travel, it should arrive in less than a day. Once there, it will confirm the safety of the royal family and then proceed to the southern capital, where it will attempt to establish communications with the Leinsters.”

My father’s and Graham’s eyes widened.

What does he mean?

Anko cast a sidelong glance at my startled face as it descended to the floor. The familiar then took the folded sheet of paper from the professor in its mouth, surveyed its surroundings, and let out a single meow. With that, it vanished into darkness.

Gone already?!

“His Majesty and the rest of the royal family were most likely evacuated to the western capital, as is standard procedure in the event of an emergency,” the professor calmly explained. “The knights of the royal guard were in shambles after that business in the east, but the royal family still have their personal guards and the court sorcerers—assuming the latter haven’t defected. Most importantly, Royal Guard Commander Owain Albright was in the royal capital. He isn’t known as ‘the Immortal’ for nothing, and he can go toe to toe with Lydia at close quarters. And we mustn’t forget Princess Cheryl. She was a classmate of Allen’s and Lydia’s, remember.” His affected manner of speaking elicited shrugs from my father and Graham and a chuckle from me.

Then, a thought struck me. Given how uneasy these tidings made me feel, what must they have done to her?

“Professor,” I said, “how do you think Lydia is taking this?”

“She’s a lost cause,” the great sorcerer replied with an exaggerated shake of his head.

“S-Surely it’s not that simple.”

“Lydia is absolutely hopeless without Allen. We’re just lucky that she’s with her family. She won’t go haring off to the eastern capital with Lisa around to keep her in check.”

I wasn’t entirely convinced, but I didn’t argue the point.

Will she really be all right? I wondered. I know how intensely she feels for Mr. Allen.

Reluctantly, my father said, “As for breaking the news to Tina and Ellie...”

“Father, allow me,” I interjected.

“If you would, Stella.”

“I will.”

After the terse exchange, the professor clapped his hands.

“Well then,” he said, “we all have our work cut out for us, so let’s get to it. The imperial ambassador will be setting a date and time for our meeting any moment now.”

✽