One week.
Riersha had still not managed to visit Arcmund.
She sat with her chin propped in both hands, staring blankly down at the map spread before her.
A sigh escaped her lips on its own — deep enough to hollow out the earth beneath her feet.
There must be something I’m supposed to do with the orb to find the exam location.
Beside the map, a single orb sat all alone, Aska’s name etched across its surface.
Every hour that wasn’t devoted to theory studies in preparation for the written portion of the exam had been spent staring at that map.
So desperate had she become that she had even fallen asleep clutching it to her chest.
“There’s not much time left.”
That was the problem — the remaining time was slipping away at an alarming rate.
Only three days until the written exam!
Which meant that if she couldn’t identify the exact exam location and submit the entry permit to Arcmund before then, it wouldn’t matter how brilliantly she performed on the test itself…
It’s over!
Riersha felt the world tilt beneath her.
She shivered once, shaking her shoulders, then slowly pushed herself to her feet.
“Okay. I need to go for a walk. Tona.”
“I’ll come with you, Miss Riersha!”
“Mm.”
Riersha turned to look out the window.
The garden of the Arachrene ducal estate had quietly buried itself beneath a blanket of white snow, soft and deep.
An entire year had passed already, slipping by without her notice.
“Now then — coat on, scarf on, hat on. And look at this! Your personal dressmaker sent over the most adorable new shoes today!” Sona held up a pair of fluffy, plush-lined boots with an expectant grin.
Riersha stared at them with her round, clear eyes.
One second passed. Then two. The longer the silence stretched, the more Sona’s upturned smile began to tremble at the corners.
The boots were not going to fix Riersha’s mood. That much was obvious.
“W-well, put them on and let’s go get some fresh air!”
“…Mm.”
Bundled from head to toe, Riersha stepped out of the manor.
The whole world was white, and she moved through it like a small rabbit — small and soft against all that snow.
Crunch. Crunch.
Each step left a satisfying press into the snow beneath her feet.
Sona watched her from beside, quietly amused by how intently Riersha was focusing on the sound, and offered a faint smile.
“Look at this, Miss Riersha.”
“Hm?”
Sona demonstrated by scooping up a handful of snow and packing it between her palms into a round ball.
“Like this — you roll the snow into a ball, and then you can build a snowman.”
“A snowman…?”
“I’ll make the body. Could you help with the rest, Miss Riersha?”
“Okay. Then I’ll make the head.”
Riersha crouched down, scooped up a generous handful of snow, and began pressing and shaping it between her hands.
Then she stopped.
Come to think of it — when exactly had the orb engraved with Aska’s name appeared?
After I was given information about the exam… the orb was just sitting there in my room.
Could it be…
Was there an additional condition she still needed to fulfill?
Now that she thought about it, the parchment she had received bore the label: Problem 1.
Which could very well mean there were more problems to follow—
“No way.”
So then, this orb was, in a word…
Riersha murmured blankly.
“Qualification…”
“Pardon? What did you say, Miss Riersha?”
“I’m currently disqualified, aren’t I — Tona!”
The orb’s true meaning suddenly became clear: it represented someone who endorsed Riersha becoming the official heir.
⁂
Pernoa’s study.
“I’m currently disqualified, aren’t I — Tona!”
The image of Riersha standing in the garden, her face struck through with shock as she cried out, was the last thing Rosinante showed before he quietly cut off his ability.
Silence settled over the study.
Even after Rosinante’s power had faded, Pernoa remained fixed on some point in the middle distance, his gaze far away.
“…I-it’s a relief that Miss Riersha seems to be doing well.”
“…”
“Eek — no, that’s not what I—”
Rosinante let out a small yelp and clapped a hand over his mouth.
He had only just realized, too late, that his words could very easily be interpreted as: Miss Riersha is getting along just fine without you.
“Right. She’s doing perfectly well without having to see me at all.”
And just as Rosinante had feared.
Pernoa’s mood had curdled into something thoroughly sour, and he was twisting every word in the worst possible direction.
The cold war is with Miss Riersha, so why am I the one catching the sparks?
Rosinante swallowed dryly.
He needed to steer the conversation elsewhere. Quickly.
“Still, it’s something to celebrate. Miss Riersha figured out the path to the next problem entirely on her own.”
“So she did.”
“At that young age, she’s already grasped that earning the support of the household is essential to becoming the legitimate heir! …Doesn’t that make you proud?”
Rosinante watched his lord anxiously, doing his best to gauge the reaction.
From start to finish, Pernoa maintained a perfectly blank expression, offering not a single word of agreement.
After a long moment, he finally spoke.
“Why wouldn’t I be proud. Riersha has grown so much.”
“As I expected…! I knew you’d say that!”
“The cooperation request to the imperial court?”
“Already handled. I submitted it the moment I received word that Miss Riersha had presented her nameplate. …There are only about three days left until the exam, after all. The timing really is quite tight.”
Rosinante murmured the last part with a trace of worry.
Pernoa’s mouth curved into a humorless twist.
“Yes. Remarkably fast.”
“…”
“Riersha’s so focused on this exam, I must be completely out of her thoughts.”
…All things considered, it was Pernoa himself who had arranged the schedule this way.
Rosinante worked his lips silently for a moment before offering a word of comfort.
“Miss Riersha will come to you. I’m certain of it.”
“After the exam is over, you mean.”
Pernoa exhaled at last and lowered his head.
He hadn’t managed to work through even half his usual volume of documents.
Several days in a row now. It was plain to see just how much Riersha was occupying his mind.
“You’ll be able to repair things with Miss Riersha. You know her nature better than anyone.”
“…When she finds out what the next problem is, she won’t let it go easily.”
“No. Neither do I think she will. That does make things rather difficult.”
Rosinante turned quietly back to his own work, then marked a small X on the calendar.
Before the two of them had grown distant, Riersha had made a daily appearance in this study without fail…
Another late night, then.
Rosinante breathed a dry sigh.
⁂
Declair Imperial Palace.
Calius Declair smiled with curious amusement at the request that had arrived from the Arachrene ducal estate.
“So the last remaining heir of House Arachrene is sitting her formal examination.”
“…Riersha?”
Calius held out the document himself — a Travel Authorization Request — for Isierd to read.
“Should she come to request a transit permit granting access to the Forbidden Altar, she is to be approved. That is their instruction.”
So it appeared the exam location chosen by House Arachrene this time was the Forbidden Altar.
At those words, Isierd’s brow creased.
The Forbidden Altar, of all places…
“…Isn’t that a restricted zone? It’s still far too dangerous a place for Riersha.”
“I have an obligation to cooperate with this request. The safety of the heir is not my concern — the ducal house will manage that on their own.”
“…”
“You don’t look pleased.”
When Isierd said nothing, Calius gave a quiet, amused scoff.
The two of them had been holding their obligatory tea sessions for well over a month now. Long enough that they had each formed a reasonably clear picture of the other.
“Well. At least one question has been answered for you.”
“…”
“I’m told you’ve been fixed on a crystal orb all day.”
There had been reports that whenever Isierd returned to his chambers, he could be found staring into a crystal orb for hours on end.
Just as the observation drew a sharp look from Isierd, Calius decided to move on to the matter at hand.
“I hear you’ve decided not to attend next year’s Hunting Festival.”
“Yes.”
“Why not? Even Adrian has never been granted an invitation to that gathering. That seat would be of great benefit to you.”
Declining that invitation was nothing short of foolish.
It was also a remarkable opportunity to make known — publicly — just how much the Emperor favored Isierd.
“You will attend.”
“…”
“And you will cultivate a friendship with Lady Willias.”
Isierd looked up at the Emperor, his expression asking plainly what that was supposed to mean.
Calius Declair laced his fingers together and ran one thumb idly across his knuckles.
“House Willias has expressed a wish for their daughter to become your companion.”
