Second Arc: Eleventh Chapter

"Good day."

The moment I opened the classroom door and said it, the room went silent.

I'd woken early this morning and come in ahead of time. His Highness, Lady Julia, the others I usually talk with — none of them seemed to be here yet.

The few classmates scattered around all had their eyes on me, yet every one of them kept their mouth shut as if frightened, and not one returned my greeting.

It wasn't like the usual, and I tilted my head. Normally most people greet you back… I tried again.

"Good day."

"A-and a good day to you, Lady Cosette…"

"Good morning, Lady Cosette."

This time a few of them answered. But the timid young lady and young man who did shrank back, watching me with nervous, uneasy eyes.

"The nerve of her. Playing the crown princess already — aren't we getting ahead of ourselves…"

"She chases off anyone who goes near His Highness. Of course she's too frightening to go near."

"However close she is with His Highness, she's a mere earl's daughter. The presumption of it."

At the open mockery I looked around, but the classmates — everyone but me — had clustered toward the middle of the room.

Hmm… this is about me, then? I don't remember playing at being the crown princess.

"Don't play innocent… you wicked woman, bewitching His Highness the Crown Prince."

The voice was dark and full of hate, and I turned toward it without thinking. A cluster of young ladies stood against the wall, glaring at me.

And the one staring with the most hatred of all was… Lady Priscilla.

The instant our eyes met, tears welled up on her sweet little face — the face of some small, helpless creature — and she clung to the young lady in front of her.

"Ahh! How terrifying…! Even now she glares at me like that!"

The young lady Priscilla clung to held her tight, turned to me, and fixed me with a hard glare.

"It's all right, Lady Priscilla. I'm here. I won't let it be like yesterday!"

"Yes," Priscilla sobbed. "Yesterday she tore me away from His Highness in the middle of our dance… it was such a dreadful, frightening thing. Ugh…!"

I was of course not glaring at anyone. I was just standing there, mouth open, stunned.

Ignoring me where I stood frozen, Lady Priscilla only worked herself up further.

The whole thing felt so unreal that it put me in mind of a daytime soap.

There's always a character like this—

The heroine gets bullied, then works hard to clear her name. Was I the heroine here? If so, what a pain. It's not as if I need to clear my name… Daytime soaps are best watched from the couch.

As I stood there wondering what to do, watching the Priscilla show, someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind.

"Yo, Cosette. What's up?"

"Georg. Good day. Hmm, it's… kind of hard to explain, but…"

I explained the situation to him. Georg listened, nodding along, but his face slid steadily toward can't-be-bothered.

"What's that about. Girls are such a hassle. Anyway, I'm starving. Got anything?"

"Honestly. I brought potato mochi for a snack, so eat it before class starts."

"Yes! Potato mochi's the best, right!"

"'The best'? It's delicious, thank you!"

I headed to my seat with a beaming Georg. Lately, though, Georg's way of talking is drifting further and further from anything noble. His training mates' influence, maybe. I'll have to say something about it soon.

"Good day. Lord Georg, what are you eating?"

"Potato mochi."

"Oh! Lady Cosette's own making! I want some too!"

"Good day, Lady Julia. Here, please, have some."

I took out a piece of potato mochi for Lady Julia and poured tea from a bamboo flask into cups for the two of them.

"—LISTEN to me, would you?!"

It was Priscilla. All at once, with her shout, a desk went flying over. Potato mochi and tea sailed through the air…!

Ahh! The potato mochi I'd made with such care…!

I pictured its tragic end and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Hup!"

But at that moment—!

Georg sprang up from his chair, caught one piece in his mouth and two more in his hands, spun a brilliant turn, and stuck the landing.

"Georg!"

He chewed and swallowed the piece in his mouth, then flicked his bangs back.

"Never waste food."

"Wonderful! Lord Georg!"

Lady Julia, thrilled by Georg's heroics, gave him unstinting applause. So did I, of course.

"Sorry to interrupt the fun, but could someone hand me something to wipe off with…"

At that voice — quiet, and full of anger — I turned toward it, dreading what I'd see.

And there stood His Highness the Crown Prince, Leonhardt, a cup perched on his head, tea dripping from every inch of him.