Toward evening, the awards ceremony of the hunting tournament was held in a clearing at the edge of Chrisos Forest.
The quarry that nobles had brought back over the course of the day had been arranged in the clearing by size. And dominating them all, unmistakably, by sheer mass alone, was the gray bear — the one they had called the demon of Chrisos Forest.
The crowd was unsettled, and for two reasons.
First: a bear that entire hunting parties had failed to bring down for years had been found in a state of complete stillness, almost peaceful, without a single wound on its body.
Second: the person who had caught it was Kasha.
“Is it really possible that Kasha Rüschino hunted that alone?”
“Preposterous. She must have had help — from Lord Leon, or Lord Daryl.”
“What sort of hold does she have over Lord Leon? It doesn’t make sense unless she’s using some kind of trick.”
“The bear having no wounds on it at all — that alone is suspicious.”
The nobles murmured and glanced at her with eyes that ranged from doubt to open contempt.
They were not the only ones struggling to make sense of it.
“Kasha — you actually caught that? By yourself?”
“Yes, brother. Leon helped deliver the final blow — but yes.”
“But how?”
“The device.”
She tapped the device she’d built with a light, unhurried hand. Daryl stared at her for a long moment with his mouth opening and closing. It was Margaret who steadied him.
“You ought to congratulate your sister, young lord.”
“But how could she have — alone — it doesn’t quite make sense, does it.”
Daryl lowered his voice so Kasha wouldn’t hear. Margaret turned a firm look on him.
“You saw her building the device yourself, didn’t you? You even taught her to shoot.”
“That’s true, but —”
The combat-capable magical tools that had appeared on the market so far were short-ranged and weak in effect. Most of what passed for shooting devices were little more than party novelties. Daryl had taught her the basics of aiming because she’d asked him to — but he had never thought she would use it to hunt actual animals.
Magic tools simply weren’t suited to real combat yet. In actual battle, the convention was still to take a traditional weapon — a bow, a sword — and reinforce it with magical force. A few more powerful devices had begun to emerge recently, but they were not accessible to the general public.
Daryl had assumed Kasha’s interest in building a device was an eccentric hobby at most. Her having succeeded this way left him genuinely disoriented.
Young lord! That Kasha of yours — she’s a genius, I tell you! She designed that thing herself — actually designed it! When does mass production begin? Please, let me be the one to handle it! I’ll cut my fee in half! You and I have history — you’re not going to take it to some other vendor, are you? Those other fools don’t have the skill to build something this fine anyway!
Hans the blacksmith had been sending increasingly insistent messages since Kasha had been introduced to him, and Daryl had been dismissing them as half-joking enthusiasm.
But she had actually caught the bear. The man-eating bear. The one they had called a demon.
Kasha had genuinely developed a combat-grade magical tool.
Daryl had no head for commerce, but even he could see this was the kind of discovery that could reshape the balance of power across the entire continent. He finally understood why Hans had been so frantic.
He looked at his sister with confused eyes. She was gazing into the middle distance, as composed and distant as ever.
He felt it then, with a clarity that surprised him. The hesitant girl who had walked into the count’s house holding their father’s hand was gone. And — more surprising still — that realization brought no discomfort. No dissatisfaction. Only something that felt, quietly and a little overwhelmingly, like pride.
He thought of what she had said to him one day several weeks ago, appearing unannounced at his door.
From now on, at least I won’t be a disgrace to the family name. You’ll see.
Margaret, standing alongside him as they both watched Kasha, whispered again.
“You have a remarkable sister. It’s all right to feel proud.”
“…Do I need to worry?”
“No. I have this feeling — the only thing we can do for Kasha is cheer her on.”
Margaret’s eyes were bright as she watched her. Daryl looked at her face for a moment, then gave a slow nod.
“You’re right. I think — she’s going to need a real family now. For the first time.”
His expression became serious. Something settled in him — the look of a decision made. He turned the full weight of his gaze on the nobles who were muttering and circling Kasha from all sides, and his eyes turned cold.
And so Kasha stood, with Daryl on her left, Margaret on her right, and Leon behind her — a quiet, immovable wall against the crowd’s hostility.
Beneath that wall, most of the nobles fell to whispered complaints rather than open attack.
Not all of them, however.
Odette Tyrot swept to the tournament’s administrative tent with her father, Duke Tyrot, at her side. Kasha Rüschino winning — it made Odette want to tear something apart.
When she had heard that Leon refused the marriage proposal, she had swallowed her wounded pride and told herself it was sudden and he simply needed time. She had believed, patiently, that in the end he would be hers.
But now he had appeared with Kasha Rüschino as his partner. And now Kasha had caught a bear? First place?
Not first place. That’s not acceptable. Not first place.
Remembering what first place entitled the winner to, Odette abandoned all composure and raised her voice.
“It makes no sense to award victory simply because someone has brought back a large animal. She may have taken credit for a kill another hunter made, or she may have had help. The majority of participants are already raising objections! The circumstances must be verified before any decision is made!”
“My lady, however — there are witnesses who saw Lady Rüschino complete the hunt herself —”
At that moment, another face pushed into the conversation beside Odette.
“Those witnesses could be mistaken! Or they could be lying!”
Odette shot a glance at the interloper. Simon — something-or-other, from the Blanche barony, isn’t it?
But Simon was too agitated to notice her irritation, and pressed on desperately.
“This is simply not credible! A young lady entering the hunt for the first time and catching a bear? Something is clearly wrong here. You cannot present Lady Kasha Rüschino with first prize or invite her onto the stage while the situation is this unclear. The award must be postponed until everything has been established beyond all doubt!”
Simon’s voice was strained to breaking, and he was visibly sweating through his collar.
The moment he had heard Kasha had caught the bear, he had known what it meant — she had used the device. The very device he had commissioned her to build.
I’m losing my mind.
Why was she doing this? Had she simply gone unhinged? The woman who had been indifferent to everything except her work had shown up at an imperial hunting tournament, used a device of her own manufacture in front of the entire court, and brought down a bear.
This was a catastrophe for Simon in more ways than one.
Kasha was slipping entirely beyond his control. If that continued, getting hold of her device designs would become impossible.
And if she started making noise about reclaiming the dark stone — if she really did something that reckless — what would happen to him? What would that person think?
Simon felt a cold sweat crawl down his spine.
Then the flap of the imperial pavilion opened, and someone stepped out.
Princess Melissa — neat white gown, light brown hair pinned up — walked straight toward the flustered Odette and Simon.
“Are you claiming that the imperial hunting tournament has been subject to fraud and manipulation?”
Duke Tyrot, who resembled nothing so much as an old badger, stepped forward to shelter his daughter behind him.
“No, Your Highness, not precisely — we are not the only ones saying so. Many of the other nobles agree that evidence of Lady Rüschino having completed the hunt herself is required.”
“How curious, Duke.”
Princess Melissa replied pleasantly.
“All the years when men claimed first place without question, the award ceremony proceeded in complete peace. But the moment a woman wins for the first time, the ceremony is thrown into uproar.”
“That is not the issue here, Highness! It isn’t because she is a woman — it’s that Lady Kasha Rüschino appears to have had no experience whatsoever with hunting implements before today!”
“Then let us simply ask her.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“His Majesty the Emperor was unwell and has returned to the palace ahead of us. I will oversee the award. We can ask Lady Kasha Rüschino to explain herself directly.”
Then Princess Melissa raised her voice toward the interior of the pavilion.
“Princess Jasmine — would you care to join us?”
“I’ll pass. It’s dreadfully hot out there. I have a dress fitting soon — I need to get several gowns ordered before the Crown Prince returns. Oh, what color does the Crown Prince prefer again? Ask someone, would you? For reference when I choose.”
“Whatever color you wear, I’m sure His Highness will find it perfectly agreeable.”
Princess Melissa answered the voice inside the tent — which hadn’t so much as shown its face — with serene courtesy.
“Oh, ho ho ho. When is he coming back anyway? I can hardly sleep for the excitement these days.”
From inside the pavilion came the sound of Princess Jasmine and her ladies-in-waiting dissolving into laughter.
Princess Melissa’s attendants winced. The Princess herself turned away without a trace of reaction.
“Come, then. Let’s go.”
The party made their way toward the award stage where the nobles were waiting. Odette and Duke Tyrot followed with stiff, resentful faces. Simon, drenched in cold sweat, trailed behind.
