COARV Chapter 27

I smirked and pulled a handkerchief from my bodice, holding it out to Abigail.

"Never mind anyone else—doesn't a knight commander with a duty to enforce discipline get punished more severely if he fails to report something like that? You don't need to commit a crime like that on my account, do you?"

I noticed it every time—Elliot really did have a broad heart. He'd had almost no direct run-ins with the original Seria, of course. But he must have heard secondhand about her violence and misbehavior all the same, and yet he'd opened his heart to me without much difficulty.

If Elliot hadn't been the kind of noble who believed in giving second chances to those who reflected on their wrongs, or if he hadn't been a Berke knight naturally inclined to be soft on the Stern, he would have hated Seria for the rest of his life without question.

"…Thank you for saying that, though. Sir Elliot."

I said it a little bashfully, and the corner of Elliot's mouth curved up to match.

"Bibi. Let's get you to your quarters. I'll walk you over. Sir Elliot? I heard Bibi's lodging changed. Where is it?"

"I'll guide you there myself, Lady Seria."

I nodded without hesitation. As Elliot returned the sword he'd been holding onto for the past week in a simple little ceremony, I fell into thought.

Bibi's not entirely wrong, either.

Abigail's words were a little violent, sure, but her way of responding wasn't necessarily wrong at times. Just kill anyone who tries to hurt me. Nothing's cleaner than that, no loose ends. Of course, that didn't mean I actually wanted to kill Lina or Kallis. That thought had never once crossed my mind.

Except—

Over the past year, I'd overlooked something genuinely important. To be honest, yes. I'd believed that if I acted differently from the original Seria Stern, everything would simply turn out fine. Don't act wicked. Don't hit people for no reason. Don't pick fights just to beat someone up. Don't throw wine in anyone's face. Don't act out against lower-ranking nobles just because I was a Stern.

I'd thought that if I refused to torment good people, and repented earnestly for a wicked past (even though I wasn't the one who'd actually committed it), the miserable fate assigned to Seria in the original story would somehow pass me by.

Turns out, that's not it.

Some part of me, underneath it all, was still thinking of this world as nothing but ink on a page. No—trying to think of it that way, is more like it. Was it that much of a shock, having the world I stood on suddenly overturned, having a role assigned to me and "fixed" in place?

Now that I was breathing here, this world was my reality. Just as I was alive, I needed to properly recognize that the people around me—every single one of the original novel's leads—were living people too.

Lina, and Kallis.

And Lesche Berke, that man, as well.

Every one of them was a living person. My flat assumption that being kind to people would return kindness, and treating them badly would bring harm back my way—that had been my own arrogance. I'd read the original novel, but I hadn't read through their lives one by one, the way I'd read the story…

So I decided to change my goal. To grip more firmly to the lifeline that would save me.

I'm buying an island.

The Gleick Empire's territory was enormous. As the sole undisputed power on the continent, of course it was. I'd heard that the empire's southernmost reaches were lined with beautiful resort islands surrounded by pretty coral and emerald-colored sea.

I'll pick one out, and that's that.

I'd purchase an entire island in the south and simply never leave it again. Getting to travel somewhere like that had been a long-standing wish of mine, too.

Before I was transported into Seria's body, I'd been a poor graduate student. My lab stipend was as thin as salt, and I'd barely scraped together tuition through research grants. Even trying to just find a regular job, my field practically required going to graduate school.

I'd been a zombie haunting the lab back then. But even a zombie has dreams, so sometimes I'd search for pictures of relaxing vacation spots and scroll through them one by one, envious. I'd saved a few to my gallery, too.

But now, I was a Stern, and I knew the original novel. Which meant, strictly speaking, my odds of getting my hands on a fortune were far higher than they'd been as a struggling grad student in my old life, weren't they?

I'd work hard and save up a great deal.

Once Lina goes back to the real world, she won't return to this one for another year.

In the meantime, I'd steadily save money and build a foundation, gather the funds, and then run. Of course, this crappy original story might still find some way to try to cut my throat even then… but I'd already started laying countermeasures for that.

From now on, I have to be the one who does the glacier inspections.

The frozen lake, the glacier, the work at Berke territory—the more diligently I worked, the more Seria Stern's reputation would rise. And a higher reputation could sometimes preserve the life of a noble whose neck was destined to be cut off. This was the only thing I could actually do.

To do that, I need to go to the temple and get permission from the other Stern.

Of course, Seria and nearly every other Stern throughout history disliked glacier inspections. Inspecting other regions wasn't especially difficult, since the weather there was usually fine—but the Grand Ducal territory's glacier, bordering the north, was both far from the capital and bitterly, bone-cuttingly cold, so everyone avoided it.

Given that, if I said I wanted to inspect the glacier more, they'd gladly grant permission. Still, there was the formal matter of appearances to consider, so I needed to see the Stern directly at the temple and get approval myself.

I think the other Stern's name was Miyute. Has Seria ever met her?

Sterns had always been distant with one another, generation after generation. Even if stars clustered together, all you'd get was a galaxy at best. It wasn't the star that drew attention—it was the path the star traced that drew attention. Sterns, being proud by nature, tended to prefer shining alone.

Well, judging by the fact that there weren't rumors of misbehavior on Miyute's scale of Seria's own, she was probably quiet even in her pride. I thought I should write Miyute a letter and started walking again.

The knights' quarters were the largest building after the main castle itself.

"This way."

"The floor changed?"

"A large number of knights left, didn't they? All the good rooms had already been claimed, so once they were freed up, I had Dame Abigail assigned to one of them."

When I'd first come to Berke's main castle with Kallis for the wedding, there'd been so few guests at the castle that we'd been able to use the best guest wing.

Abigail hadn't been able to come with us then. We'd arrived at Berke territory a bit later than expected, so Abigail hadn't even been able to stop by the main castle—she'd had to rush straight to join a pre-scheduled holy knight monster subjugation squad.

Honestly, I hadn't known back then. I never imagined every noble household would keep sending nothing but knights, one after another, for Berke Castle's year-end party. Once the number of houses sending a knight as proxy for the head of the household passed twenty, I thought, "ah, this isn't quite right," and hurried to secure a room for Abigail in the main castle's knight quarters—but by then, the best floor was already completely full.

I regretted, endlessly, having settled for a lower, less prestigious floor instead. I never imagined the small kindness of letting Abigail pick a room she liked would come back to bite me like this.

From now on, I'm just seizing the room. No asking.

These were the households that had sent knights one after another purely to save face with House Keliden, and I'd been too considerate toward them. I wasn't going to keep playing the fool for people like that.

"The floor's high, so the sun comes in well."

There was a faint trace of satisfaction in Abigail's voice.

New mattress. New blankets, too. The fireplace was warm, too. Good. I told Abigail to rest and not bother seeing us out, then turned to Elliot, who'd followed me out, and asked—

"Sir Elliot, I heard from Linon yesterday—is it true knights are genuinely forbidden from entering Laurel Manor?"

At first I'd thought Linon was joking. It was Berke's storied, foundational estate—I couldn't understand why knights would be barred from entering.

"Yes, my lady. I haven't been able to enter the manor myself for years now."

"Why?"

Elliot looked troubled.

"Anything concerning the manor is difficult to discuss."

"Ah, I see, it's hard to explain to an outsider."

Elliot then immediately denied it with a solemn expression.

"That's not what I meant. You're no longer an outsider, my lady."

Elliot said it so gravely that I actually felt a bit sheepish. When I gave him an awkward little smile, his own expression eased slightly.

"It's just, Lady Seria. The unwritten rule and law is that no one may reveal anything about Laurel Manor to a person who has never visited it themselves. You'll understand once you go there yourself today."

"Understood. Oh, you don't need to see me off. I'm heading back to my quarters anyway."

"In that case."

After Seria strolled leisurely out of the knights' quarters, Elliot hesitated for a moment before knocking on Abigail's door again and stepping inside.

"Dame Abigail."

Abigail, who'd been leaning against the window soaking in the sunlight, glanced back over her shoulder. A faint hint of "what is it" surfaced thinly across her expressionless, cold face.

"I came to give you a word of caution about earlier. Asking Lady Seria whether you could kill the Saint and the Marquess wasn't appropriate. Something like that could easily be mistaken for a conspiracy to murder."

"There was no one there but us."

Abigail's eyebrows lowered slowly, then rose again.

"Are you planning to report me, Sir Elliot?"

"I have no intention of reporting you, but I do know Dame Abigail's remark wasn't a joke—it was sincere."

"Either way, nothing came of it, did it?"

It was an unenthused reply. Abigail was about to ignore Elliot's words out of habit, as always, when she remembered how Seria had signaled her earlier. Now that she thought about it, this man had been watching her sharply every chance he got, as if constantly trying to gauge her skill—and he was also the knight commander of this vast territory, no less.

And he was undeniably strong. A knight this strong was rare enough to count on one hand.

It occurred to her that pushing back a little harder might be worthwhile.

"My grievance concerns a knight's honor. Isn't the insult my liege suffered enough of an offense already?"

"Dame Abigail, you're strong. If you go up to the capital together with Lady Seria, countless knights' eyes will be drawn to you."

"So?"

"I'm telling you to be careful. Berke's knights keep their mouths shut, but the capital doesn't."

Abigail's mouth curved up at one corner.

"And why exactly should I listen to what you say, Sir Elliot?"