Chapter 53
“Isn’t it better to start at the top if we’re unsure how deep this goes?”
“The top?”
“The headmaster.”
It sounded absurd at first.
But Erna explained with complete seriousness.
“It’s hard to believe just a few instructors acted on their own. Even what happened during the entrance exam suggested the possibility of a larger conspiracy. If the incident was that extensive, it’s only logical to assume those higher up were involved. There’s no reason to rule out the headmaster.”
Though reluctant, Ranjer furrowed her brow as Erna continued in a low voice.
“I heard the headmaster is from a branch of the Swanhild family. He’s also familiar with my uncle.”
Erna’s voice trembled visibly now. Ranjer rested her chin on her hand, studying her.
“Your uncle said he wanted to see us during the holidays. But there’s no guarantee he’ll help. We still have to consider the possibility that he’s on the other side.”
Even though Ranjer had offered her a way out, Erna steeled herself and replied.
“At the very least, it’s worth meeting him. And…”
She paused to take a breath.
“Ranjer, if I back out, you’ll go alone, won’t you?”
Since their meeting at the department store, Erna had exchanged letters with Alyx a few times, but they hadn’t met yet. Not because Alyx lacked the will—Erna and Ranjer had simply been too preoccupied. And perhaps unwilling.
Ranjer clearly believed any remaining energy would be better spent reading than socializing. Erna, meanwhile, couldn’t find peace even thinking about them.
Even though she’d decided not to dwell on it, it wasn’t easy to forget her mother’s wrongdoing or how the family’s attitude had shifted overnight.
If emotions were that easily controlled, even Lenart would be a far more pleasant person. Erna, thankfully, had enough sense to keep such thoughts to herself, unlike her brother.
Uncles had never been easy for her to deal with either. She’d already argued with Count Swanhild before—there was no guarantee she wouldn’t end up doing the same with her uncle.
Ranjer had anticipated Erna’s hesitation and planned to face the uncle alone.
Erna, too, felt tempted to hand things off. It would certainly be more peaceful that way.
‘But I can’t shove this onto her…’
Erna looked down at the carved piece of wood under Ranjer’s fingers.
“…My uncle should at least be able to find out about the headmaster’s recent movements. And I’m pretty sure he’s not on that side either.”
She had once briefly suspected Count Swanhild. But if he’d had enough influence to stage something like this, there were far simpler ways to achieve it—expulsion, or even kidnapping. Not vague schemes with shady organizations and unclear objectives.
The real mastermind was likely the Emperor.
It was well known that the relationship between Swanhild and the Emperor was less than cordial. The chances of her uncle—the Count’s heir—being involved were low. For now, Eirik Swanhild was one of the few people they could reasonably trust.
“You’re right.”
Ranjer nodded in agreement.
“Write to Alyx. We need to set up a meeting.”
With the next step decided, they wrapped up early. No one seemed able to concentrate any longer.
Exhausted, Erna and Heine returned to their dormitories. Ranjer stayed behind in the reading room with Lenart.
Not because she had work to do—she just wanted to avoid running into Veronica.
She had barely escaped her after morning drills, and had been dodging her ever since. She didn’t know how long her luck would last.
Lenart, meanwhile, looked lost in thought, a gloomy look on his downcast face.
Ranjer tilted her head toward him deliberately.
She was startled when he suddenly leaned on her shoulder, but he didn’t move away.
It wasn’t an unfamiliar gesture, when she thought about it. She’d held him before, catching him as he jumped down.
He steadied himself and spoke.
“You’re planning to take Heine, right?”
“Yes. We don’t know what might happen. And Erna will feel more at ease if we’re not outnumbered. Would you like to come too?”
“…It’s probably better if I don’t.”
Ranjer accepted that without argument, even if she wasn’t thrilled.
Normally, she and Lenart wouldn’t have any overlap. Heine was a classmate without any special background, so tagging along wouldn’t raise eyebrows. But Lenart was a different matter.
Even if no misunderstandings arose, just his presence might cause problems later.
Lenart swept his hair back and re-tied it. Ranjer, still leaning against him, muttered a complaint.
“If it’s just because you don’t like me, I won’t argue. But it’s not that, is it?”
“No, it’s not. If circumstances were different, I would go. No matter how strong you are, that meeting won’t be easy. And even with your sister there, I worry you’ll cause some kind of trouble.”
“You think I’ll start a fight with my uncle? I don’t go around picking fights with just anyone.”
She bonked her forehead against his shoulder as she spoke, completely undermining her point.
He slid his hand between her knuckles as she continued the light headbutts, and watched her swaying hair.
Ranjer didn’t express more than that.
Lenart felt both relieved and anxious as he said,
“Either way, my presence alone might draw attention. The Emperor could notice I’m still in the capital. If that disrupts the investigation… we might not get another chance.”
“…So, where are you going?”
“I’ll head to Lusheta as soon as vacation starts. It’s been over a year since I last checked in. It’s time.”
Ranjer blinked slowly, her head still resting against him.
Though they had known each other a long time—counting time even he wasn’t aware of—she wasn’t used to seeing Lenart talk about his estate.
He’d mentioned it in passing before, but this time it sounded more like genuine concern than an excuse.
‘What was he like before…?’
Lenart had the sensitivity to understand why Ranjer would visit Swanhild’s ruins, but during their partnership he had rarely shown interest in his own territory, Lusheta.
Ranjer couldn’t remember hearing much about it.
‘Back when he was on the southern front, he should’ve had time to visit…’
It was strange in retrospect. Someone burdened with so many duties wouldn’t simply neglect their land.
As Ranjer mulled it over, Lenart muttered a list of small tasks.
“It’s the south, but I still need to check the winter preparations… and whether the relief supplies arrived properly…”
Listening to him, Ranjer realized none of this would benefit him personally. It painted a clear picture of Lusheta’s situation.
‘So he’s not even breaking even…’
He’d been operating at a loss for years, covering it with his pension, practically supporting his tenants out of his own pocket. Ever since he inherited the title.
Other nobles found the situation absurd, but Lenart didn’t seem bitter about it.
A mix of resignation and worry—but above all, an urgency to leave the capital.
Ranjer lifted her head from his hand and rested her chin there instead.
‘…Too close.’
Their faces were less than a handspan apart. Speaking as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Ranjer said,
“So you’re going.”
“…Yeah. I shouldn’t stay here, and there are things I need to see for myself in Lusheta.”
“Then it can’t be helped. I’ll see you off at the station.”
Ranjer leaned back slightly.
“Vacation’s long enough. Once we’re done here, I’ll come to Lusheta.”
“What? Wait… why?”
“To bring you back. Is that uncomfortable?”
Lenart imagined Lusheta’s bleak scenery. A barren, unimpressive place named after his mother, almost mockingly. Honestly, he didn’t want to show it to anyone.
But Ranjer didn’t give him room to refuse, so he shook his head.
“Good.”
Ranjer smiled at his consent.
“I always wanted to see it at least once. Since you lived there so long, I’m curious what it’s like.”
“There’s nothing much to see. It’s a backwater.”
“That’s fine. Vacations are meant to be spent in quiet places anyway. And the trip sounds fun too. Erna still gets excited about trains.”
“…Right.”
Ranjer didn’t question his sarcastic tone.
If Lenart had smiled brightly, that would’ve been more concerning. A bit of cynicism was nothing new for him—whether directed at himself or the world.
When the semester ended, winter break officially began.
Lenart boarded a train to the south, having declined a send-off.
Heine, having decided to join the Ranjer sisters, did not return home.
The three of them sent their luggage to Count Simone’s estate and headed to the outskirts of town.
Thanks to the prompt reply, they ended up visiting her uncle’s villa right away. He had written back the moment he received their letter, inviting them to meet on the first day of the holiday.
It was clear Alyx—and the uncle behind her—had been waiting for this contact.
Erna found the sudden schedule overwhelming. Even bracing herself wasn’t enough to completely erase her hesitation. Still, seeing Ranjer’s confidence, she didn’t object.
But curiosity got the better of her, and she finally asked the question she had been holding back.
“Are you sure about this?”
“About what?”
“Aren’t we rushing into things?”
“There’s no reason to delay. It’s something we need to do anyway. Are you nervous?”
“It’s not exactly reassuring. We don’t even know why your uncle wanted to meet us.”
“Don’t worry too much. We’re bringing Heine, after all. He’s not going to start shouting in front of others.”
Heine didn’t mind being used that way. When Erna looked apologetic, he simply shook his head.
Meanwhile, Ranjer offered her signature confident assurance.
“You don’t have to do anything. That’s why I’m going with you. Just leave it to me.”
Erna wisely chose not to trust that last line too much.
