The letter arrived before the incident.
More precisely, it arrived before the incident had even ended.
No.
More precisely still.
It arrived as though it had been written knowing the incident would happen.
Arsene Berhardt.
Eveline Rosette’s fiancé.
The man who had used Liana Bell as a shield.
The man who had smilingly set the board at the ball.
And now, the man who had made his next move without even coming to the tea party.
I looked at the envelope.
Black sealing wax.
A hawk crest.
The crest of House Berhardt.
The seal had been broken.
Because Seria Blanc had just opened it.
But traces still remained inside the envelope.
The time it had been written.
The sealing line.
And the direction in which the letter had been folded.
These days, everything in the world looked like evidence to my eyes.
It was an exhausting illness.
[Seria Blanc Arc, Second Event, has been unlocked.]
[Event Name: The Protest Letter Arrives Before the Incident]
[Risk Type: Preemptive Protest / Reversal of the Record / Shifting Blame]
[Core Risk: A document that arrives first defines an incident that occurs later.]
Great.
Not great at all.
Making a Poisoner had failed.
But House Berhardt had immediately opened the next path.
If they could not make someone into a poisoner?
They would hold someone accountable for negligence.
It did not need to be intentional.
"A guest collapsed at a tea party hosted by the Ducal House of Blanc."
That fact alone was enough.
They might not be able to cut off Seria Blanc’s head immediately, but they could destroy the trust placed in her.
The Smiling Poison-Tongued Woman.
A woman who was already difficult to trust.
If the label, "a hostess who made her guest collapse," were added to that?
The ruin route would return under another name.
I rotated my wrist once.
It was wrapped in a medicinal-herb cloth, but it still hurt.
Still, I had to pick up the pen.
"We need to read the letter."
When I spoke, Seria looked at me.
Her face was paler than usual.
She was not smiling.
But neither was she falling apart.
Good.
The first assignment.
[State the facts without smiling.]
Thrown straight into practical application.
This world really had no concept of lesson preparation.
Seria drew in a breath.
Then she said,
"I will read it."
It was a short statement.
But an important one.
The old Seria would have smiled here.
"House Berhardt truly is diligent. Their concern arrived before the incident did."
Something like that.
She would have stabbed with a smile, bleeding herself as she stabbed.
But this time was different.
Seria did not smile.
She stated only the facts.
"It is a message from Lord Arsene Berhardt. It was written this morning, before the tea party began."
The garden fell silent.
That first sentence alone mattered already.
This morning.
Before the tea party began.
Before the incident.
I wrote it down.
[Message from Arsene Berhardt: Written this morning, before the tea party began.]
Seria unfolded the letter.
"Its contents are as follows."
Her eyes scanned the words.
"‘To Lady Seria Blanc of the Ducal House of Blanc. Eloise Berhardt of House Berhardt will attend today’s scheduled tea party. Recently, there have been no small number of troubling rumors within the capital’s social circles concerning Lady Rosette, and Saint Candidate Liana Bell has likewise become the center of much attention.’"
Eveline’s eyes turned cold.
Her name again.
Liana’s name again.
Rumors again.
But Eveline did not move.
She merely unfolded her handkerchief a little.
Good.
Seria continued.
"‘Accordingly, we request that the Ducal House of Blanc, in hosting this tea party, fully guarantee the safety and honor of its attendees.’"
Nothing was strange so far.
It was a common advance notice between noble houses.
A family member would be attending a tea party, so they requested assurance of her safety.
That could happen.
The problem would be the next sentence.
Seria’s voice lowered ever so slightly.
"‘Should Lady Eloise Berhardt experience any physical abnormality, humiliation, threat, coercion, or defamation of honor in any form within the Ducal House of Blanc, House Berhardt shall regard this as a failure of management by the Ducal House of Blanc and lodge a formal protest.’"
Silence descended over the garden again.
It was far too broad.
Physical abnormality.
Humiliation.
Threat.
Coercion.
Defamation.
A net capable of catching anything.
If Eloise collapsed, it applied.
If Eveline lost her temper, it applied.
If Liana cried, it applied.
If Seria objected, it applied.
Arsene had not predicted the incident.
He had cast a net broad enough to pull any incident into wording favorable to him.
I cursed inwardly.
So like an aristocrat.
And I meant that in the worst way.
Seria read the final sentence.
"‘This is an advance notice prior to the tea party, intended to confirm that the Ducal House of Blanc proceeds with the gathering aware of the aforementioned concerns. Arsene Berhardt.’"
The end.
The writing was neat.
Courteous.
And vicious.
I wrote a new line on the record sheet.
[Core of Arsene’s message: Form of advance notice of concern.]
[Scope: Physical abnormality / humiliation / threat / coercion / defamation.]
[Effect: Enables claims of negligence by the Ducal House of Blanc regardless of the form the incident takes.]
Beatrice Morgan spoke quietly.
"It is a well-written protest letter."
Eveline looked at her.
"Was that praise?"
"No. I mean it is dangerous."
"I know that."
"Not fully, you do not."
Beatrice looked at the letter.
"This letter does not specifically say Lady Eloise will collapse. That makes it stronger. It can apply no matter what happens."
That was right.
Exactly right.
It looked like prophecy, but it was not.
A comprehensive trap.
The broader a trap was, the easier it was to step into.
Seria did not fold the letter.
She should not.
She understood that now, too.
The letter was left unfolded beside a white plate, apart from the copies of the records.
Good.
The evidence would not get mixed together.
Seria looked at me.
"Teacher."
"Yes."
"How do we stop this?"
It was a good question.
And a bad question.
Because the answer was troublesome.
I spoke.
"We do not stop it."
Seria narrowed her eyes.
"That again?"
"We answer it in kind."
"How?"
"We turn it from a protest letter into a confirmation record."
The garden became quiet.
Eveline asked first.
"Another word game?"
"Noble society is mostly word games."
"How irritating."
"A normal response."
Seria muttered softly,
"That was supposed to be my line."
"The effects of my lessons."
"That feels unpleasant."
"I hear that often."
I took out a blank sheet.
My wrist already hurt.
But by now, it hurt like just another part of my body.
I wrote the first line.
[On-Site Confirmation Record Regarding House Berhardt’s Advance Notice.]
Seria narrowed her eyes.
"An on-site confirmation record?"
"Yes. Lord Arsene’s letter asks whether we recognized the concerns. So we answer like this: We recognized them, and we record what we did because of them."
Beatrice nodded.
"Good. Rather than concealing the advance notice, you will use it as grounds for your management measures."
"Exactly."
Seria’s gaze changed.
She understood.
With this letter, Arsene had intended to paint a picture in which the Ducal House of Blanc knew of the danger and still neglected it.
Then we had to write the opposite.
That because we knew of the danger, we recorded it, took action, and established witnesses.
The same document could be a sword or a shield.
What it became depended on the sentence that followed.
I wrote.
[1. The Ducal House of Blanc received House Berhardt’s advance notice of concern prior to the tea party.]
[2. The notice requested guarantees of the attendees’ safety and honor.]
[3. Beatrice Morgan was present at the tea party as an etiquette observer for Lady Rosette.]
[4. Verification of the owner of each cup, whether the first cup had been consumed, and the placement of the second cup were conducted on site.]
[5. Following the onset of Lady Eloise Berhardt’s symptoms, the Blanc family physician was summoned immediately.]
[6. Lady Eloise’s immediate transfer was delayed at the physician’s judgment, due to the need for stability in treatment.]
[7. A separate notice, along with copies of the incident records, will be sent to House Berhardt.]
I stopped there.
Good.
This was enough to turn the protest letter into a confirmation record.
Arsene’s letter had been a threat.
But if we documented the fact that we had received it, that threat became the starting point of a management procedure.
Seria read the page.
Her eyes paused at each line.
"That record favors me."
"It does."
"If it favors me too much, people will be suspicious."
"Which is why we need to add one more line."
I wrote beneath it.
[8. However, the Ducal House of Blanc acknowledges that, with respect to seating arrangements and certain on-site decisions, it did not fully verify attendee safety and consent.]
Seria pressed her lips together.
That sentence hurt.
But it was necessary.
A perfect defense looked like a lie.
A defense with a wound was more likely to hold.
Seria looked at that sentence for a long while.
Then she said,
"All right."
Eveline looked at Seria.
"Are you really okay with that?"
"I am not okay with it."
Seria spoke without smiling.
"But it is true."
I did not record those words.
The system window did instead.
[Seria Blanc: Assignment in Progress]
[Assignment: State the facts without smiling]
[Progress: 1/3]
Good.
First success.
Seria had stated a fact unfavorable to herself without smiling.
It seemed like a small moment, but it was a considerable change for her.
The Smiling Poison-Tongued Woman had always hidden behind her smile.
The Seria who did not smile was still clumsy.
But she had not fallen apart just now.
The problem was who would vouch for this confirmation record.
Arsene’s letter had come bearing House Berhardt’s crest.
It carried that weight.
The Ducal House of Blanc’s answer alone would have difficulty standing against it.
Seria was the hostess.
A party to the matter.
The words of an involved party were always suspected.
So we needed outsiders.
Beatrice Morgan.
House Rosette.
And if possible, the Imperial Family.
I paused briefly at that last thought.
The Imperial Family.
Kaiden Astrea, the Empire’s Second Prince.
The man who had appeared too early at the ball.
How would he move if he saw this board?
He had been wary of Arsene.
And he had looked at me strangely.
As if he had vaguely noticed that I was changing the flow of the original story.
Could I draw him in?
It was dangerous.
But we did not need the Imperial Family’s name just yet.
Not yet.
I discarded the thought.
What we needed right now was not an oversized sword, but a neatly folded sheet of paper.
"Lady Morgan."
When I called, Beatrice looked at me.
"That is the face of someone who intends to give me another task."
"Precisely."
"At least deny it."
"I was honest to survive."
"You are becoming increasingly exhausting."
I held out the confirmation record to her.
"Could you add a statement confirming these facts as an on-site observer?"
Beatrice read the document.
She took a long time reading it.
She stopped at statement eight.
Then she looked at Seria.
"Can you leave this statement in?"
Seria nodded.
"I have to."
"This statement could be used to attack the Ducal House of Blanc."
"I know."
"Even so?"
Seria glanced at me for a moment.
Then she said,
"If we remove it, they will attack us more easily."
Beatrice’s gaze softened by the slightest degree.
Perhaps it was just my imagination.
It was difficult to imagine that woman’s gaze softening.
But regardless, she nodded.
"Very well."
Beatrice added a sentence at the bottom.
[As an observer, I confirm that the above record was prepared centered on facts and statements verified on site.]
Then she signed it.
[Beatrice Morgan.]
Heavy.
That signature was heavy.
Beatrice Morgan’s signature could be more troublesome than the seals of several noble houses.
Because she was known as someone who did not readily take anyone’s side.
Her confirmation would dull Arsene’s comprehensive protest letter somewhat.
When a blade dulled, its cutting power diminished as well.
Folding her handkerchief, Eveline said,
"You need the Rosette name too, don’t you?"
I looked at her.
Eveline did not avert her eyes.
"I saw it too."
"If your name is included, this becomes a conflict between House Rosette and House Berhardt."
"It already is a conflict."
That was accurate.
Eveline was already Arsene’s fiancée.
In the original route, that relationship had been the rope of her ruin.
Now?
The rope still remained.
But Eveline was simply refusing to put her neck in it.
I said,
"Do not sign it."
Eveline raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"You need to remain a witness. If you become an official confirmer now, Arsene will turn this into a clash between fiancés."
"So I stay out of it?"
"You are not staying out of it."
I tapped a copy of the record.
"Your testimony is already included. But you will not stand at the forefront of this document."
Eveline did not look pleased.
Still, she did not get angry immediately.
She asked,
"Then what do I do?"
A good question.
Eveline no longer liked being told to sit still.
Before, she had been ruined whenever she moved. Now, she asked how she should move.
That was growth.
I answered,
"Take a separate record to Count Rosette. And deliver one sentence to him yourself."
"What sentence?"
"Arsene Berhardt prepared a protest letter before the incident occurred."
Eveline’s eyes went cold.
That one sentence would make Count Rosette understand.
How Arsene had laid out this board.
How far he intended to use the engagement to shake things up.
And why Eveline should not have drawn her sword today.
Eveline nodded slowly.
"All right."
Good.
She had truly improved.
Before, she would have said, "I will meet Arsene myself."
Now, she would deliver a message.
A sentence instead of a sword.
Her handkerchief was still uncrumpled.
Liana cautiously raised her hand.
"What about me?"
I looked at her.
"Lady Liana will not sign any document today."
Liana’s eyes widened.
"Why not?"
"A Saint Candidate’s signature carries too much weight. And it remains unclear under whose protection you are. If anyone binds you to this record, that will become another pretext."
Liana slowly understood.
"Then I..."
"Only confirm the testimony you gave. Confirm whether the statements attributed to you in the copy are accurate."
"I take responsibility, but do not step forward?"
"Yes."
Liana nodded.
"I understand."
Good.
If you put her out front too quickly, she would break.
Liana was still finding her own voice.
She could not be made into a shield.
Nor could she be used as a sword.
She needed to remain a witness.
That was the best option for now.
A system window appeared.
[Eveline Rosette: Accepts the role of messenger in place of direct confrontation]
[Liana Bell: Maintains position as witness]
[Seria Blanc: Participates in drafting a defense document]
[Second Event success probability decreases.]
[The Protest Letter Arrives Before the Incident: 64% -> 48%]
The system only told me now that the initial probability had been 64%.
How considerate.
It really made me want to curse.
But it had dropped to 48%.
Still high.
Close to half.
Arsene’s letter was powerful.
The fact that he was not on site was powerful, too.
People who were not on site did not make mistakes.
They only had to leave words behind.
Those words were the most troublesome part.
Derin eventually sent someone to House Berhardt.
But he could not send them alone.
A servant of the Ducal House of Blanc and an assistant clerk appointed by Beatrice went together.
To confirm that the copies of the records were delivered.
Derin wore an openly displeased expression.
I wanted to record that expression too, but held back.
Records needed dignity as well.
Sometimes.
Eloise had stabilized somewhat after treatment from the family physician.
She spoke less.
No, it was closer to say she was restraining herself.
She knew now that every time she opened her mouth, it would be recorded.
So she remained silent.
Silence was safe.
But not completely safe.
Too many words had already been left behind.
The ring.
The sachet.
The accusation letter.
The scent of roses.
Blue sealing wax.
And Arsene’s advance protest letter.
All of it was pointing in one direction.
House Berhardt.
Arsene.
Of course, none of it was direct evidence yet.
There was no proof Arsene had ordered Eloise to poison anyone.
There was no proof Arsene had ordered Derin to hide the accusation letter either.
But Arsene had sent a protest letter before the incident.
And that protest letter had been prepared to take in the incident with suspiciously broad convenience.
Possibility was not evidence.
But good records set possibility on the road leading to evidence.
I was building that road.
I did not want to.
But I had to.
To survive.
Seria came to stand beside me.
At some point, she had moved close.
She was not looking at the garden, but at the confirmation record I had written.
"Teacher."
"Yes."
"I missed one thing."
"What?"
"Lord Arsene’s protest letter did not arrive before the tea party."
I looked at her.
Seria pointed at the envelope.
"The message arrived just now. But it was written this morning. So the issue is not only the time it was written. It is the delivery route."
Good.
Precisely good.
I picked up the pen.
"Go on."
Seria paused briefly.
As if the habit of smiling had risen up.
But she did not smile.
She stated only the facts.
"By an ordinary carriage, it takes more than half an hour from House Berhardt to the Ducal House of Blanc. A courier horse would be faster, but a gate record would still remain. Yet this letter came in immediately after the incident."
"Meaning?"
"The letter was already nearby."
Seria’s voice was low.
"Before the tea party even began."
Several gazes remaining in the garden turned toward us.
I looked at the envelope again.
She was right.
It was not enough merely that it had been written this morning.
When had the letter been sent?
Where had it been waiting?
Who had carried it?
If we learned that, we would know how closely Arsene had been waiting for this incident.
I recorded it.
[Seria’s observation: It is necessary to verify not only the protest letter’s time of writing, but also its delivery route.]
[Hypothesis: The protest letter may have been waiting near the Ducal House of Blanc prior to the incident.]
A system window appeared.
[Seria Blanc: Proposes a fact-based counterattack]
[Assignment: State the facts without smiling]
[Progress: 2/3]
[Second Event success probability: 48% -> 41%]
Good.
Seria was seeing it herself.
Not another person’s weakness, but the incident’s route.
That was what a lesson was.
I asked,
"Do you have gate records?"
"We do."
Seria immediately instructed the head maid.
"Bring me the records of couriers, carriages, and visitors who came in from this morning until now. In particular, find out when any courier bearing House Berhardt’s crest or black sealing wax passed through the front gate."
The head maid moved.
Derin’s expression stiffened.
Good.
Another reaction.
I recorded it.
[Derin: Reacted to request for front gate records.]
Beatrice looked at my note and quietly said,
"You record even expressions like that?"
"If possible."
"I am beginning to understand a little why people dislike you, Teacher."
"I hear that often."
"This time, you truly deserve to hear it often."
Eveline spoke beside us.
"I dislike you too."
"I know."
"But you are necessary."
I paused for a moment at those words.
Eveline immediately looked away.
"Why are you looking at me?"
"It is nothing."
"Do not record that."
"I already did."
"Do you want to die?"
"I was trying to live."
Liana held back another laugh.
Liana had nearly laughed a great deal today.
A good sign.
No, I was not sure whether laughing in this situation was a good sign.
Still, not crying was a good thing at least.
The gate records did not take long.
The Ducal House of Blanc was a family obsessed with records.
Apparently, it was no coincidence that Seria had such a personality.
The ledger brought by the head maid listed the times of everyone who had arrived today.
The carriages of noble ladies.
Liana Bell.
A House Rosette carriage.
Beatrice Morgan.
Eloise Berhardt and her escort, Derin.
And then.
[House Berhardt courier — no front gate entry.]
I stopped at that line.
"There was none?"
Seria’s voice lowered.
The head maid bowed her head.
"There is no such entry in the front gate records."
"What about the rear gate?"
"The rear gate records only food supplies and servants entering or leaving. There was no House Berhardt courier today."
"Then where did this letter enter from?"
Seria spoke quietly.
But it was dangerous.
The letter had passed through neither the front gate nor the rear gate.
Yet a servant had brought it from the garden entrance.
That meant only one thing.
The letter had already been inside the Ducal House of Blanc.
Or it had been entrusted to someone within the Ducal House of Blanc.
I looked at the servant.
The servant who had brought the letter.
He stood there with a pale face.
Seria asked him,
"Who gave you this letter?"
The servant replied in a trembling voice.
"A young servant standing before the garden’s western gate. He said it was a message from House Berhardt..."
"Was he one of our servants?"
"I had never seen him before. But he was wearing the Ducal House of Blanc servant uniform."
The air changed again.
A Ducal House of Blanc servant uniform.
A fake servant.
Or a bribed servant.
Or perhaps a temporary hire.
There were many possibilities.
Possibility was not evidence.
But right now, it was a road.
I wrote.
[Protest letter delivery route: No front or rear gate record.]
[Courier: Young servant in front of western gate. Wearing Ducal House of Blanc servant uniform. Identity unconfirmed.]
A system window appeared.
[Clue Regarding the Force Behind the Incident Updated]
[Advance protest letter: Increased possibility that it waited inside or near the Ducal House of Blanc.]
[Second Event success probability: 41% -> 32%]
Good.
It had dropped sharply.
Arsene’s letter had been strong, but its route was weak.
A letter that arrived too quickly could end up stepping on its own feet.
A record written first could be wrong first.
And a record that arrived too soon invited the question of where it had been hiding.
Seria did not smile.
This time, she had done truly well.
She said to the servant,
"Check the area around the western gate. But do not send anyone alone. Head Maid, go with Lady Morgan’s assistant clerk. Do not touch anything you find; record its location first."
Good.
Procedure.
Seria was speaking in procedures.
Instead of stabbing at people’s weaknesses, she was protecting the location of evidence.
A system window appeared.
[Seria Blanc: Directly instructs defensive procedure]
[Assignment: State the facts without smiling]
[Progress: 3/3]
[First Assignment Complete]
Seria could not see the system.
So she did not know what she had accomplished.
But I saw it.
She had stated the facts without smiling.
She had included facts unfavorable to herself.
And now, she had even instructed the procedure to preserve those facts.
For a first lesson, it was enough.
Of course, I was not sure it was normal to call a tea party with poison, a fake servant, and an advance protest letter a first lesson.
My lessons were always like this.
I hated it too.
Not long after, an item was found near the western gate.
A small black courier bag.
It was empty.
But the scent of paper and sealing wax remained inside.
The head maid did not touch it and had its location recorded.
Good.
They were learning very well.
The bag was beneath a shrub inside the garden fence.
A location someone unfamiliar with the Ducal House of Blanc’s servants would not know.
But one easily accessible while wearing a servant uniform.
Upon hearing the report, Seria said,
"That bag does not belong to our house."
"How do you know?"
When I asked, she answered immediately.
"Courier bags of the Ducal House of Blanc have lily embroidery on the inner cloth. I was told the bag by the western gate did not."
I looked toward the head maid.
She nodded.
"It did not."
I recorded it.
[Black courier bag discovered beneath shrub by western gate.]
[No Ducal House of Blanc courier bag marker.]
[Possible bag used to deliver Arsene’s protest letter.]
Derin spoke in a low voice.
"It is only a possibility."
He was right.
This time, Derin was right.
I nodded.
"Yes. It is a possibility."
Derin’s face stiffened instead.
Because I did not deny it.
If you admitted a possibility was only a possibility, it became difficult for the other side to frame it as a lie.
Possibility was not a crime.
But if enough of it piled up, it became a road.
I said,
"That is why we will not yet write that House Berhardt sent it. We will only write that Lord Arsene’s advance protest letter was delivered from within the Ducal House of Blanc without a front gate record, and that an unaffiliated courier bag was found near the western gate."
Beatrice nodded.
"Correct."
Seria said softly,
"You are annoyingly correct."
"I hear that often."
"Now I really dislike you."
"Most people do, eventually."
Eveline muttered,
"I started disliking him a long time ago."
This time, Liana covered her mouth with her hand.
To hide her laughter.
Good.
The tea party had been ruined, but everyone was still alive.
That was an accomplishment.
A system window appeared.
[Second Event: The Protest Letter Arrives Before the Incident]
[Current success probability: 32% -> 19%]
[Core Factors: Advance protest letter’s route unknown / weakened claim that the Ducal House of Blanc bears sole responsibility for management.]
19%.
It had fallen a lot.
But it was not over yet.
Arsene’s protest letter still existed.
And House Berhardt would use it.
All we had done was make a shield.
The attack had not come yet.
Then the sound of hoofbeats came from the direction of the front gate.
This time, it was real.
A servant ran in from beyond the garden.
He bowed, breathing hard.
"My lady. An official courier from House Berhardt has arrived."
Seria’s eyes turned cold.
"Now?"
"Yes. He says he has brought Lord Arsene Berhardt’s formal protest letter."
Great.
Not great at all.
The advance protest letter had been a preview.
The formal protest letter had arrived.
Now the real battle would be document against document.
I picked up the pen.
My wrist really hurt.
But what could I do?
This opponent was not a sword, but a letter.
And letters killed people longer than swords did.
Seria looked at me.
This time, she was not smiling.
But neither was she falling apart.
"Teacher."
"Yes."
"Is this the next lesson?"
I looked toward the front gate.
Black sealing wax.
A hawk crest.
Arsene Berhardt.
A man whose face had not yet appeared.
Yet his sentences were already stabbing people.
I said,
"No."
Seria’s brow shifted.
"Then what is it?"
"It is an exam."
Seria paused briefly.
Then she smiled very faintly.
This time, it was all right to smile.
"You really are the worst teacher."
"I hear that often."
"Now I truly hate you."
"I hear that one often too."
A black envelope was making its way in from the front gate.
I took out a new sheet of paper.
The first line had already been decided.
[Before receipt of the formal protest letter, questions arose regarding the delivery route of the advance protest letter.]
Good.
Arsene.
The record you wrote first.
Had already begun to be a little wrong.
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