Academy.
The moment I saw that word, my wrist hurt first.
More precisely, my wrist had already been hurting.
It had been hurting all along.
Berhardt’s preliminary protest letter.
The formal protest letter.
Scene records.
Witness verification.
Verbal confirmation from the messenger.
Eveline’s reply.
The Ducal House of Blanc’s first response letter.
Today, my wrist had been worked less like a commoner teacher’s wrist and more like aristocratic society’s communal printing press.
Then the system cheerfully added one more line.
[Time remaining until the preliminary notice for the academy entrance examination: 5 days]
I nearly dropped my pen.
No.
I actually dropped it.
Tap.
The sound of the nib hitting the garden floor was louder than expected.
Seria looked at me.
Eveline looked at me too.
Liana looked at me as well.
Beatrice Morgan did not look at me.
Instead, she looked at the fallen pen.
That was more frightening.
"Teacher."
Seria spoke first.
She was not smiling.
It seemed the effects of today’s lesson still remained.
Good.
Very good.
But it was not much comfort right now.
"What did you just say?"
"Me?"
"Yes."
"I did not say anything."
"You did."
Eveline cut in.
"You said academy."
I was doomed.
It had slipped out.
When people got truly tired, their inner thoughts leaked out through their mouths.
I learned that today.
It was knowledge that would not do much to help me survive.
Liana asked cautiously.
"By academy... do you mean the Academy of the Golden Crown?"
That was right.
The Academy of the Golden Crown.
The place that was also the game’s title.
Academy of the Golden Crown.
The Empire’s finest educational institution, where noble children, scholarship students, knight candidates, mage candidates, and priesthood candidates all gathered.
And, according to the original story, the main stage for every kind of ruinous route.
The place where Eveline Rosette publicly fell apart before her fiancé and the Saint Candidate.
The place where Seria Blanc stabbed everyone with a smile until she was branded a person who could trust no one.
The place where Liana Bell, though the protagonist, was also made into a shield for every conflict.
And the place where the villainesses I had yet to meet would appear one after another.
Put simply, it was a place I would rather not go.
But the game itself was called Academy of the Golden Crown.
I could not avoid going.
The problem was the timing.
Originally, this was still far off.
At the very least, the preliminary academy entrance-exam event was supposed to appear after Eveline’s first rampage had completely settled, House Rosette had finished putting its affairs in order, and Seria’s tea-party incident had either been officially buried or exploded.
But now?
It was the very day the poisoning-frame-up route had been blocked.
Right after the formal protest letter had been shaken by its contradiction in timing.
The very moment after Arsene Berhardt recognized me as a variable.
Five days until the preliminary academy entrance-exam notice.
This world had no intention of letting people rest.
None at all.
"Teacher?"
Eveline narrowed her eyes.
"Why do you look like that?"
"What kind of expression do I have?"
"The expression of someone who does not want to die."
Exactly right.
Too exactly right to refute.
I picked up the pen.
A little dirt clung to the nib.
It was much like my own situation today.
"We need to move up our entrance-exam preparations."
The garden fell silent again.
Seria asked slowly.
"All of a sudden?"
"It may not be all of a sudden."
"What does that mean?"
I looked at the plate where Berhardt’s formal protest letter had rested.
The envelope had been preserved separately.
So had the sealing wax.
And the record confirming the dispatch token at departure.
"There is now a possibility that today’s incident will carry over into the academy’s preliminary evaluation."
Only then did Beatrice look at me.
"Not merely a possibility. It is quite likely."
Good.
When a frightening person shared your opinion, it became persuasive.
I did not particularly like frightening people, but I acknowledged frightening people who were useful.
Beatrice pointed her fan at the garden table.
"Lady Eloise Berhardt is scheduled to receive an academy recommendation. The same is true of Lady Eveline Rosette. Lady Seria Blanc is also on the Ducal House of Blanc’s list of recommended candidates. Miss Liana Bell is already subject to preliminary screening as a Saint Candidate scholarship student."
Liana’s shoulders drew in slightly.
Seria spoke quietly.
"So most of the people present here today are connected to the academy entrance examination in the end."
"Yes."
Beatrice’s voice was cold.
"And aristocratic society does not leave an incident as merely an incident. If there is a stage available, it puts the incident upon it."
Exactly.
Fucking exactly.
Aristocrats liked to fight.
They simply did not wield swords themselves.
Tea parties.
Balls.
Protest letters.
Letters of recommendation.
Entrance examinations.
They turned every place into a battlefield.
And they said so with smiles.
Etiquette, they called it.
I closed the record sheet.
It was not because I no longer wanted to write.
I needed fresh paper.
"Then let us organize this."
"You are organizing things again?"
Eveline asked with a weary expression.
"Yes."
"How many sheets of records have you written today already?"
"The number of pages grows if you want to survive."
"I am sick of that line now too."
"I hear it often."
"I hate that one too."
Eveline raised her handkerchief.
This time, she did not crumple it.
But she looked as though she was debating whether to hit me with it.
Good.
Not hitting me counted as growth.
I wrote a title on a fresh sheet.
Preliminary Academy Entrance-Exam Response Chart.
Seria’s eyebrows rose.
"A response chart?"
"Yes. You do not solve an exam by looking at its questions. You prepare the answers before the examination hall creates the problems."
"That is an incredibly uninteresting thing to say, yet it is strangely persuasive."
"Thank you."
"It was not a compliment."
"I hear that often."
"I would like to ban that one too."
Seria said it sincerely.
I ignored her.
Teachers did not live long if they reacted to every emotion their students had.
Especially when all my pupils were villainesses.
I wrote the first line.
1. Eveline Rosette — Countermeasures against provoked rampages.
Eveline’s face crumpled.
Her handkerchief did not.
"Why am I number one?"
"Because you are targeted most often."
"Seria is more suspicious than I am."
"I agree," Seria said calmly.
"But when Lady Eveline moves, the consequences are greater. I kill people with words, while Lady Eveline looks like she would destroy buildings with a sword."
"Are you praising me right now?"
"No. I stated a fact. Without smiling."
Seria truly was not smiling.
Eveline started to retort, then stopped.
She had probably felt the side effect of today’s lesson.
Seria telling the truth without smiling was more unpleasant than expected.
I wrote the second line.
2. Seria Blanc — Countermeasures against collapse of trust.
Seria watched my hand.
"Has my trust collapsed?"
"It has already fallen apart considerably."
"That is very direct."
"Speaking indirectly takes longer."
Seria fell silent for a moment.
The corners of her lips tried to rise reflexively.
But they stopped.
Good.
Little by little, it was working.
"The entrance examination is not just written tests, mana, and swordsmanship," I said.
"There are interviews with recommenders, conduct observations, and social-interaction evaluations."
Liana murmured softly.
"Social-interaction evaluations..."
"Yes."
I wrote the third line.
3. Liana Bell — Prevention of being used as a shield.
Liana lifted her head.
"Used as a shield?"
"Situations where someone puts you forward and makes you speak for them."
Liana’s face stiffened.
It had happened today as well.
Arsene’s words.
Derin’s water.
Eloise’s collapse.
The wording of the formal protest letter.
Liana had kept getting written into someone else’s sentences.
An unstable guest.
An unprotected scholarship student.
A Saint Candidate.
A victim.
A witness.
Not one of those was entirely false.
That made them more dangerous.
I looked at Liana.
"Once you go to the academy, questions will pour down on you. Who frightened you? Who helped you? Who threatened you? Who is on your side?"
Liana’s hand gripped the saucer.
There was no tea.
Only the saucer remained.
This garden held more traces than tangible things today.
"When that happens, you must not let them take your answer from you."
"Do you mean... I need to give my own answer?"
"Yes. Briefly and precisely."
Liana nodded slowly.
"I will try."
Good.
I started to write the fourth line, then stopped.
4.
Still blank.
The fourth villainess.
I had not met her yet.
According to the original plan, there would be around four people receiving private tutoring.
Eveline.
Seria.
And two more I had not yet met.
One of them could only be encountered after entering the academy.
In the original story, she appeared late.
But the system had already warned me.
The academy was coming too early.
Then she might arrive early too.
I left the blank space as it was.
Seria did not miss it.
"Why is number four blank?"
"I have not met them yet."
"Whom?"
"The problem."
"Do you call people problems?"
"Today, I treated a protest letter like a person. The reverse is possible too."
Seria looked at me for a moment before nodding.
"That is unpleasantly convincing."
Eveline crossed her arms.
"So what are we doing from now on?"
"Homework."
All three of their expressions stiffened at once.
Good.
This was when a teacher’s authority was born.
When students hated it.
I looked at Eveline.
"Lady Eveline. Organize the statement you will report to Count Rosette today. No adjectives."
"Adjectives?"
"Yes. Words such as ‘despicable,’ ‘disgusting,’ and ‘I’ll kill him’ are forbidden."
"Then I have fewer things to say."
"That is the point."
Eveline reluctantly opened her mouth.
"That bastard Arsene had already prepared the protest letter before the incident."
"Failed."
"Why?!"
"That bastard."
"But that is the truth."
"It is not a fact to leave in the record."
Eveline gritted her teeth.
Then she tried again.
"There is a possibility that Prince Arsene Berhardt prepared the protest letter before the incident."
"Close."
"Why again?"
"Not ‘there is a possibility.’ A contradiction has been confirmed between the protest letter’s time of writing and its contents."
"You make it sound difficult."
"That is how you get hit less."
"By whom?"
"Aristocratic society."
Eveline was silent for a moment.
Then, on her third attempt, she said, "A contradiction has been confirmed between the time of writing and the contents of Prince Arsene Berhardt’s formal protest letter. The scene records and testimony have been preserved."
I nodded.
"Passed."
Eveline’s shoulders lowered slightly.
Her tension had eased.
Her handkerchief remained uncrumpled.
I looked at Seria.
"Lady Seria."
"Yes."
"Write ten lines of facts about what happened today without stabbing anyone with them."
For the first time, Seria made a genuinely aggrieved face.
"Ten lines?"
"Yes."
"Without stabbing anyone?"
"Yes."
"Then facts become less than half as entertaining."
"That is the point."
Seria exhaled softly.
"For example?"
"Lady Eloise Berhardt collapsed after drinking the second cup."
"Boring."
"A good sentence."
"Lady Eloise Berhardt tried to hide her ring and—"
"Failed."
"I have not even finished yet."
"You already stabbed her."
Seria shut her mouth.
It truly seemed difficult for her.
Facts without venom for Seria Blanc seemed akin to a duel without a sword for Eveline.
I looked at Liana.
"Miss Liana."
"Yes."
"Prepare refusal statements."
"Refusal... statements?"
"Yes."
I spoke slowly.
"Statements you can say immediately when someone at the academy tries to take you where you do not wish to go. When they try to make you give testimony you do not want to give. When they try to put you on a side you do not wish to stand with."
Liana’s eyes wavered.
"Am I allowed to refuse?"
"You are."
"Even though I am a Saint Candidate?"
"All the more because you are a Saint Candidate."
Liana considered those words for a long time.
Then she said cautiously, "I will attend of my own will."
"Good."
"I am not prepared to answer right now."
"Better."
"I... will not speak in someone else’s place."
The garden became quiet for a moment.
This time, it was a good silence.
I nodded.
"Memorize that sentence."
Liana bowed her head slightly.
"Yes."
A system window appeared.
[Liana Bell: Acquired statements expressing her own will]
[Resistance rate against being used as a shield increases.]
Good.
These kinds of windows were welcome.
Far better than windows that said they would kill someone.
Beatrice folded her fan.
"Leon Cart."
"Yes."
"Do you not have homework of your own?"
I could not answer.
Because I did.
A great deal of it.
First.
I had to explain today’s records to Count Rosette.
Second.
I had to finish the procedure for exchanging copies of the records with the Ducal House of Blanc.
Third.
I had to predict which document House Berhardt would throw at us next.
Fourth.
I had to recall the types of questions used in the academy entrance examination’s preliminary evaluation.
Fifth.
I had to save my wrist.
The fifth looked hardest.
"I do."
I answered.
"What is it?"
"Surviving."
Beatrice looked at me briefly.
Then she sighed very softly.
"That answer loses points in etiquette class."
"I hear that often."
"That line loses points too."
I was losing a lot of points today.
But if I stayed alive, there would be a retest.
By the time the sun began to set, we left the garden of the Ducal House of Blanc.
Eloise had not yet fully regained consciousness.
However, the attending physician said her life was not in danger.
I recorded those words.
Seria checked the evidence-preservation list again with the head maid of the Ducal House of Blanc.
The ring.
White Needle Herb powder.
Blue sealing-wax fragments.
The preliminary protest letter.
The formal protest letter.
The messenger dispatch-token confirmation record.
A copy of the response letter.
It was far too grim a list to remain after a tea party ended.
Seria came to see us off at the carriage.
"Teacher."
"Yes."
"Is there really class tomorrow?"
"There is."
"You truly do not let people rest."
"That is what I would like to say to this world."
Seria almost smiled, then stopped.
Then, without smiling, she said, "The person who tried to make me a poisoner today failed."
"That is a good first line."
"Did I not stab anyone with it?"
"Barely."
"Then I will revise it. Today, I did not become a poisoner."
"Passed."
Seria lowered her gaze for just a moment.
"That sentence... is not as bad as I expected."
"Yes."
"Teacher."
"Yes."
"If I smile again next time, please tell me to stop."
I looked at her.
Seria Blanc.
The smiling poison-tongued woman.
In the original story, everyone hated her smile.
But no one ever helped her stop smiling.
They only made her smile more.
They made her defend herself alone.
Until, in the end, they made her someone who could trust no one.
I nodded.
"I will."
Seria did not smile this time either.
"Then I will see you tomorrow, Teacher."
The carriage door closed.
Eveline sat across from me.
Liana sat cautiously in the seat beside me.
We could not send Liana home alone today.
Not because she wanted company, but because there was a high chance someone would put her into their sentence again.
It was better to accompany her to the Rosette Estate, then send her to the scholarship-student residence by a safe route.
The carriage began moving.
The wheels scraped along the evening road.
For a while, no one spoke.
Then Eveline spoke first.
"Leon."
"Yes."
"Can I pass the academy entrance examination?"
I looked at Eveline.
Red hair.
Steady eyes.
An uncrumpled handkerchief.
When we first met, the answer would have been simple.
Impossible.
She would have threatened the examiners with her sword, fought Liana, been led along by Arsene’s words, and eventually entered the ruinous route.
But now was different.
Eveline asked.
She asked before acting.
That was the greatest change.
"I will get you through it."
"I asked whether it is possible."
"What I gave you was the plan."
Eveline stared at me for a moment, then snorted.
"You really evade questions."
"I hear that often."
"I said that one is banned."
Liana laughed very quietly beside us.
Eveline looked at Liana at that laugh.
It would have been a sharp gaze before.
Now, it was a little awkward.
"You are taking the exam too, right?"
Liana lifted her head in surprise.
"Yes. If I am subject to preliminary screening as a scholarship student... probably."
"Then you prepare too."
"Pardon?"
"The sentence you learned earlier. That one. The one about not letting someone else speak for you."
Liana paused briefly.
Then she nodded slowly.
"Yes. I will prepare."
Looking out the window, Eveline bluntly said, "I think it would annoy me if someone puts you in front again at the examination hall."
Her tone was rough.
But the meaning was not bad.
Liana seemed to understand that.
"Thank you, Lady Rosette."
"It does not deserve thanks."
Eveline waved a hand as if it were bothersome.
"I just do not like other people playing games in front of me."
Good.
Really good.
It was crooked, but it was growth.
I wanted to record it.
But my wrist hurt, so I held back.
That was major progress too.
Not recording things was also learning.
Of course, I would write it down later if I remembered.
When we arrived at the Rosette Estate, the Count was already waiting.
He appeared to have received a report.
The atmosphere before the main gate was heavy.
The butlers moved swiftly and quietly.
Eveline’s father, Count Rosette, stood in the center of the entrance hall.
His expression was composed.
Too composed.
When an aristocrat was too composed, someone usually died soon.
Socially, at least.
"Eveline."
"Father."
Eveline stepped forward.
I held my breath.
This report was important.
If Eveline led with anger, the clash between House Rosette and House Berhardt would immediately escalate.
Conversely, if she shrank back too much, Arsene’s words would swallow her.
Eveline held her handkerchief.
It was not crumpled.
She said, "A contradiction has been confirmed between the time of writing and the contents of Prince Arsene Berhardt’s formal protest letter. The scene records and testimony have been preserved."
Good.
I applauded inwardly.
My wrist hurt, so I did not clap for real.
Count Rosette’s eyes shifted by the slightest degree.
He looked at his daughter.
Then he looked at me.
"Leon Cart."
"Yes, my lord."
"Did you teach her that sentence?"
"Yes."
"You taught her well."
I dipped my head slightly.
"Thank you."
Count Rosette held out his hand to Eveline.
She handed him a copy of the records.
The Count did not read it on the spot.
First, he examined the envelope’s condition.
The wax seal, folds, signatures, and copy classifications.
As expected of an aristocrat.
Before reading a document’s words, he checked its body.
He told a butler, "To the records archive. Put one copy in my study and send another to the legal officer."
"Yes, my lord."
Then he looked at me.
"Is this all-out war?"
It was a short question.
Eveline’s gaze sharpened.
This question was dangerous.
If I said it was all-out war, letters would begin flying tonight.
Aristocratic society’s swords would move.
"No," I said.
Count Rosette’s eyebrow rose ever so slightly.
"No?"
"If we turn this into all-out war now, we enter the stage House Berhardt wants."
"Then what is it?"
I took a moment to steady my breath.
Then I said, "The entrance examination."
The entrance hall went quiet.
Count Rosette looked at me for a long time.
"The entrance examination."
"Yes."
"My daughter has been caught up in a poisoning frame-up and a protest-letter affair, and your conclusion is the entrance examination?"
"Yes."
"Explain."
Good.
I was still alive.
He had given me an opportunity to explain.
"Most people involved in today’s incident are academy candidates subject to recommendation or review: Lady Eveline, Lady Seria Blanc, Miss Liana Bell, and Lady Eloise Berhardt. If House Berhardt has elevated this matter through its formal protest letter into an issue of honor and management responsibility, the next stage is likely to be preliminary academy screening rather than a duel between houses."
Count Rosette listened without speaking.
I continued.
"In particular, Lady Eveline has already returned Prince Arsene’s personal message to the proper procedure. If House Rosette reacts emotionally at once, Lady Eveline’s change will be buried."
"Change," the Count said.
He looked at Eveline.
Eveline pressed her lips together.
But she did not look away.
"Father," she said. "I did not hide today."
Count Rosette’s expression shifted slightly.
A short sentence.
But it was an answer to Arsene’s message.
And a report to her father.
The Count said nothing for some time.
Then he said quietly, "Good."
With that single word, the air in the entrance hall eased a little.
"But we cannot simply leave House Berhardt alone."
"We will not," I said. "We will bind them with records. And make sure they cannot move first at the examination hall."
Count Rosette looked at me.
"At the examination hall too?"
"Yes."
"Then what must be done before that?"
"Private tutoring."
The Count’s expression became strange.
"Am I listening to your lesson plan right now?"
"Yes."
"I am Count Rosette."
"I know."
"And yet I am standing in the entrance of my own home, listening to your lesson plan."
"My lord has also entered the examination scope."
A butler beside us swallowed quietly.
Ah.
Perhaps I had crossed the line a little.
But it was too late.
Once words left your mouth, they traveled faster than records.
Count Rosette stared straight through me.
For a moment.
For truly only a moment, I thought the death route of the One-Week Teacher had opened again.
But then the Count snorted softly.
Very faintly.
"Insolent."
"I hear that often."
"You say that to me as well."
"It is a habit."
"Fix it."
"I will try."
It was not a lie.
I could try.
Whether I succeeded was another matter.
Then a butler approached quietly.
"My lord. A document concerning the Academy of the Golden Crown has arrived."
I closed my eyes.
No.
Please.
I hoped it was not now.
Count Rosette held out his hand.
The butler passed him a thin white envelope.
Golden sealing wax.
The golden-crown crest.
The Academy of the Golden Crown.
Eveline looked at me.
Her expression suggested she now understood, at least a little, that the world was tormenting me.
The Count opened the envelope.
This time, it was not a protest letter.
It was a preliminary schedule notice.
He read the first line and stopped.
"This year’s preliminary entrance-exam notice has been moved forward."
As expected.
The system was not wrong.
Annoyingly accurate.
The Count continued reading.
"The advance notice is in five days. Submit preliminary conduct records for recommended and scholarship candidates, house recommendation letters, and statements from their educational supervisors..."
A statement from the educational supervisor.
I slowly lifted my head.
Count Rosette looked at me.
"Educational supervisor."
"Yes."
"You will write it."
"Most likely."
"Is your wrist all right?"
"No."
"Yet you will write it."
"Yes."
Eveline muttered softly, "You really do not know how to rest."
I said nothing.
I felt like I would lose if I argued.
The Count folded the notice.
"Preliminary conduct records."
He spoke slowly.
"Today’s incident will be entered there, then."
"Yes."
"Favorably?"
"If we write it well."
"And if we write it poorly?"
"Lady Eveline becomes a lady who insulted a guest out of excessive suspicion. Lady Seria Blanc becomes a hostess who failed to manage a guest’s safety. Miss Liana Bell becomes an unstable Saint Candidate."
The entrance hall grew heavy again.
"And Leon Cart?" the Count asked.
I thought for a moment.
"A teacher who, despite being a commoner, involved himself in an aristocratic incident."
"Are you not already that?"
"Yes. Which is why I must be even more careful."
The Count handed me the notice.
"Read it."
I accepted it with both hands.
My wrist screamed.
I ignored it.
At the bottom of the document was a small line.
Recent disputes between candidates and safety issues occurring at social functions may be taken into account in preliminary conduct records.
Short.
But enough.
I could see the stage Arsene wanted.
Today’s tea party had failed.
He had failed to make Seria into a poisoner.
He had also failed to provoke Eveline into a rampage and drag her into the issue of her fiancé.
He had not completely turned Liana into a shield either.
But the incident itself remained.
And the academy could take it into account.
In other words, the fight was not over.
The location was changing.
From the garden to the examination hall.
From protest letters to conduct records.
From a tea party to preliminary screening.
I folded the notice.
"My lord."
"Speak."
"We need a schedule for the next five days."
"What schedule?"
"The first day: organize today’s records and recover."
Eveline immediately said, "Recovery is included. Unexpected."
"My wrist is also within the examination scope."
"That is true."
I ignored her and continued.
"The second day: training Lady Eveline to counter rampage provocation. The third day: training Lady Seria Blanc in factual speech and restoring trust. The fourth day: training Miss Liana Bell to express her own will and refuse. The fifth day: a joint preliminary mock evaluation for the three of them."
Count Rosette asked, "The three of them?"
"Yes."
"You intend to bring the young lady of the Ducal House of Blanc and the Saint Candidate into House Rosette’s lessons?"
"I do not intend to bring them in. They are already on the same examination paper. If they prepare separately, they will not understand one another. Then someone will stab between them at the examination hall."
The Count did not answer.
The silence was not long.
"Granted."
Fast.
As expected, Count Rosette made decisions quickly.
Frightening, but convenient.
"However, there is a condition."
Now it was frightening and inconvenient.
"Yes."
"Make copies of all your records. And if you collapse, lessons stop."
"I will not collapse."
"I do not believe that."
"I hear that often."
Count Rosette ignored me.
"Eveline."
"Yes, Father."
"Follow Leon Cart’s instructions. But if he overworks himself, stop him."
Eveline’s face brightened.
Ah.
Dangerous.
"Yes."
She answered too quickly.
Count Rosette looked at Liana.
"Miss Liana Bell. Today, House Rosette will prepare and send a safe carriage for you. If you wish, you may receive a copy of your own statements from today’s records."
Liana bowed her head in surprise.
"Thank you, my lord."
"Thanks are unnecessary. Your own words should belong to you."
Liana paused for a moment.
Then she said quietly, "Yes. I will take my own words with me."
Good.
Really good.
A system window appeared.
[Liana Bell: Recognizes ownership of her own testimony]
[Resistance rate against being used as a shield increases further]
Today, the system expressed people’s hearts in strange sentences.
But the meaning was good.
That night, I sat in one corner of the study at the Rosette Estate.
An herbal cloth was wrapped around my wrist again.
Eveline was glaring at me over it.
"Just one more page," I said.
"No."
"Really, just one page."
"Father told you to stop."
"If I stop now, tomorrow’s work becomes two pages."
"Then write two pages tomorrow."
"Wise, but cruel."
"I hear that often."
Eveline imitated my words.
I was genuinely shocked.
"That is my line."
"I hear that often."
"My lady."
"I hear that often."
My pupil had begun stealing and using her teacher’s words.
My education was taking effect in the wrong direction.
I finally put down the pen.
Eveline nodded in satisfaction.
"Rest."
"What if I do not?"
"I will tie you up with my handkerchief."
"That is not what handkerchiefs are for."
"As long as it does not get crumpled, it is fine."
I hoped she would not apply what she had learned in such strange ways.
I leaned back in my chair.
I closed my eyes.
Even so, my mind could not rest.
The academy.
Preliminary conduct records.
Statements from the educational supervisor.
The joint mock evaluation.
Arsene’s direct intervention.
And the fourth target, still a blank space.
4.
That blank bothered me.
Seria had only just begun.
Eveline was still unstable.
Liana was learning to speak for herself.
Yet if the academy was moved forward, the next villainess could arrive early too.
The original story’s third villainess first became clearly known during the academy’s preliminary evaluation.
She used neither sword nor poison.
She did not smile either.
Instead, she read records.
And judged people.
The worst part was that she was almost never wrong in her judgments.
I opened my eyes.
The Academy of the Golden Crown notice lay on the desk.
The golden-crown crest shone beneath the candlelight.
At that moment, another system window appeared.
[The academy entrance-exam preliminary event opens early.]
[Temporary students: Eveline Rosette / Seria Blanc / Liana Bell]
[Conditions have been generated for private tutor Leon Cart to write educational-supervisor statements.]
[Preparation period remaining until the joint preliminary evaluation: 5 days]
[Warning]
[The third villainess has begun reading your records.]
I turned the notice over.
At the lower back of it was a very small sentence.
At first, I thought it was printed as part of the notice.
But it was not.
A line someone had added by hand.
Very neat handwriting.
Handwriting devoid of any emotion.
Records are more honest than people, but those who record them may not be.
I stared at that sentence for a long time.
Then I muttered very softly, "The academy... comes too early."
The exam was not five days away.
It had already begun.
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