This was how Riersha’s days had been flowing lately.
She would wake up in the morning, share a warm meal with her family, then spend the afternoon diligently catching up on the lessons she’d fallen behind on.
After that, she would exchange a brief message with Sion before collapsing face-first into her pillow.
Two weeks had passed in this same repeating cycle.
Riersha had been so busy that she was nearly impossible to catch a glimpse of.
Why had things come to this, one might ask…
It began when Ricador, worried about Riersha’s recent low spirits, had come to find her early one morning.
The first thing he saw when he stepped into her room was Riersha sitting quietly at her desk, nose buried in her studies.
“You have exams? Ah, come to think of it, the year’s almost over, isn’t it.”
“Mm.”
“…But is there really this much to cover?”
“Uh-huh!”
Riersha nodded vigorously, her face crumpling into a look of pure misery.
Year-end evaluations!
This was something Riersha had never once considered.
It had all begun like this.
“It’s been nearly a month. What a pleasure to see you again, Lady Riersha. I’ve been hearing about your exploits all the while.”
“Mister Carden! I missed you so, so much!”
Riersha beamed and ran straight into the arms of her tutor, whom she hadn’t seen in ages.
She buried her face against his side, clutching the fabric at his waist, and breathed in a familiar, comforting scent.
A large, warm hand settled over her hair and gently stroked it—gentle in the way that only someone truly fond of you could manage.
“You’ve worked tremendously hard through all of this, Lady Riersha. I wasn’t there with you in person, but I was cheering for you in my heart every moment.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Being doted on by Carden after so long felt wonderful. She could hear the low, quiet sound of his laughter.
The warmest sort of laugh.
And then the words that followed from that same mouth were…
nothing short of merciless.
“By the way, the year is nearly at its end. I have also been working very diligently on your behalf.”
“…What do you mean? What have you been working on?”
Riersha tilted her face up, her expression perfectly innocent.
Carden was still smiling, as soft and unhurried as ever.
A moment later, those words struck like a thunderbolt, driving sharp and clean into her ears.
“The year-end evaluation, of course. …Might you have forgotten about it?”
Thud.
Riersha’s eyes went wide—wider than should have been physically possible.
Her mouth fell open. She stared up at Carden in a blank, uncomprehending daze.
Then, slowly, she stumbled backward and clapped both hands over her mouth.
“—!”
“Surely you hadn’t forgotten?”
How could she have forgotten something this important?
At the beginning of the final month of the year, heirs were required to sit their year-end evaluations.
Risideon and the other brothers, who had all already passed the official succession trials, were exempt from the year-end evaluations. But—
I have to take them!
Riersha, who had only just been recognized as an heir and hadn’t yet cleared so much as a single succession trial, had no such exemption.
After hearing the full explanation, Ricador shook his head in commiseration.
“So that’s why you’ve been bolting back to your room the moment breakfast is over?”
“Yeah…”
There was that reason, but there was another one besides.
“That, and also…”
There had, in fact, been a stern warning from Pernoa on top of everything else.
A few nights before, she had been caught secretly messaging Sion late at night.
It was also the first time in her life that Pernoa had ever truly scolded her.
“I hear you forgot about your year-end evaluation as well. Riersha Arachrene.”
“Papa…”
“Neglecting your own responsibilities, and at this hour—what exactly do you think you’re doing?”
Pernoa had been working late in his study when he’d stepped away briefly to look in on Riersha. Noticing a faint glow seeping out from under her door, he’d moved quickly inside.
The moment he saw Sion Senuart’s face reflected in the crystal orb, he had confiscated it on the spot and delivered his ultimatum.
“Until you pass the evaluation, the crystal orb stays with me. And if you fail to pass—all matters relating to Abel Senuart are finished. Do you understand, Riersha?”
And just like that, Riersha had found herself with absolutely no choice but to pass.
“…Papa seemed really angry.”
Riersha’s voice wavered as she dropped her head low.
Ricador stared at the small, round pink crown of her head.
He had come to the quiet realization that no words he could offer right now would do much to console her.
“Oppa, is there any good way out of this?”
“The one thing I’m sure of is that even if Riscal came to help, there’s no way anyone could cover all of this material in time.”
Ricador chose to offer her the clear-eyed truth.
“…So that would mean I’d be the only one of the four of us who fails.”
“Hm. That does seem to be the case.”
Ricador’s thoughts drifted back to his own past.
There had been a time when he’d lived in Risideon’s shadow, buried beneath Riscal’s brilliance, weighed down by a pressure that had been almost unbearable.
…Does Riersha feel the same way I used to?
The anxiety he had carried through those years seemed to mirror what Riersha was carrying now.
In his own estimation, Riersha was the most remarkable among all the Arachrene heirs—but Riersha herself appeared to have absolutely no awareness of it.
“There is one way.”
“A way?”
“Yes. A way to graduate from Carden’s year-end evaluations entirely.”
At those words, Riersha lunged forward and grabbed his hand with both of hers.
Ricador flinched and tried to pull away, but her small grip tightened with surprising force.
Her round, crimson eyes were shining brilliantly.
“What is it?!”
“…It’s nothing too special. It’s actually the harder route, but… it would buy you the time you need.”
“What is it?!”
“Ask Grandfather for permission to sit the official succession trial, Riersha.”
⁂
The study of Arcmund Arachrene.
Arcmund sat in stunned silence, unable to find words for the request he had just been presented with.
“…What was it you just said?”
“I said I want to take the official succession trial, Grandfather!”
“……”
“Grandfather?”
“……”
“Grandfather!”
Riersha tilted her head at him, puzzled by the silence. She reached out and waved her hand in front of his face.
After a long moment, Arcmund seemed to return to himself. He cleared his throat with a low ahem and hurriedly reached for his now-cold tea.
It was because, not long ago, he had heard something directly from Pernoa.
“It seems Riersha had forgotten about the year-end evaluation entirely—she was up exchanging messages with the Tower Master.”
“And?”
“I’ve just finished telling her that if she fails to pass the year-end evaluation, I will not permit her to have anything further to do with Abel Senuart.”
“That is the finest thing you have ever done in my memory. Well done.”
It was the first time Arcmund had offered Pernoa a genuinely sincere compliment, because the news Pernoa had brought him was deeply satisfying.
Arcmund had been aware that Riersha was in contact with the Tower Master. It had been keeping him up at night.
The thought of Riersha—still so very young—becoming directly entangled in such affairs sat ill with him.
Honestly, part of him had quietly hoped that Carden would make the year-end evaluation brutally difficult, so the girl would simply fail.
“…You want to sit the official succession trial?”
“Yes!”
“And… did Pernoa approve of this?”
“Do I need Papa’s permission too?”
That was something Ricador had not thought to explain to her.
The reason being that when Ricador had passed his official succession trial, Pernoa had not been at Arachrene Manor. And since the official succession trial was something any heir could request whenever they chose…
Pernoa’s approval was, in practice, not required.
Papa will probably be hurt if he finds out after the fact… but…
It seemed better to set things in motion first and then go to Pernoa afterward.
Because there was simply no chance he would agree beforehand.
Arcmund, reading exactly this calculation in Riersha’s expression, slowly closed his eyes.
We are done for.
Whoever had told her, Riersha had arrived with precisely the right key to unlock her current predicament.
“…Do you understand how dangerous the succession trial is?”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“Think it over again, Riersha. This old grandfather of yours is dreadfully worried.”
Arcmund murmured the words while looking down at the nameplate Riersha had placed on his desk.
The moment she had submitted her nameplate, Arcmund had in truth lost all right of refusal.
Riersha smiled at him for a few quiet seconds, then spoke in clear, deliberate syllables.
“I’ve already thought it over. I want to take the trial, Grandfather. When will the official examination be held?”
“……”
“Grandfather?”
Arcmund found he had nothing left to say. He exhaled a long, heavy sigh.
He had never in his wildest imaginings foreseen that above the clever Pernoa, there would soar an even cleverer Riersha.
