A New Hypothesis
“Eryncia~ Why don’t you try eating this? It’ll be really tasty, I bet. Kekeke.”
“No, I don’t want to… It’s a bug….”
“Why? Can’t eat bugs?”
“Keke. Can’t eat because it’s your own kind, I see.”
“Eat it. You should know by now it won’t end until you do.”
Crunch, crunch.
“Ugh…! Uweck!”
“Puhaha! Silly girl. What were you thinking actually eating it, Eryncia?”
“Keke. How does it feel? The taste of your own kind?”
Please…, just leave me alone….
It feels like my insides are turning….
“Today we’re playing tag, Eryncia. It’ll be fun, right?”
“But you know what’s even more fun? It’s tag where if you’re caught, you die. Better start running, huh? Hahaha!”
Tatatat!
“Ahh-! Let me go, please…!”
“Pff. You call that running?”
“Caught you, so now it’s your turn to die.”
Thwack!
Thump!
“Kuh……, ah… it hurts…….”
“Well, I hit you because it’s supposed to hurt. Did you think I was doing it to make you happy? But don’t worry, I won’t leave scars on that pretty face.”
“Pff, you should blame those slow legs of yours, not me.”
Thump!
“Huk… please… stop hitting me….”
“It’s all~ for your own good. How else will you survive in this cruel world if you’re so weak?”
“Keke. Right. There’s a saying, isn’t there? Pain that doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger! Similar, right?”
Why….
Why are you doing this to me…….
I just want… to study happily….
“Eryncia? You wonder why you’re suffering like this?”
“It’s because you’re weak. Because your family is weak. You’ve heard of the survival of the fittest, right? It’s natural for the weak to be devoured by the strong. Simple, isn’t it?”
Elden……
Stop just looking at me with those pitiful eyes….
Please, just once, could you please help me……?
“Pfft. Lord Elden? Seems like this girl is reaching out to you for help… Maybe you should ‘educate’ her?”
“…Let’s go drink instead, Lord Blund. I have no interest in the fallen.”
“Oh ho. Come now. Show us what kind of person you are. It’s time to teach this pitiful woman that there’s nothing more futile than false hope.”
“…Understood.”
Ah…….
No…, please….
Someone, anyone, please… pull me out of this hell….
Crack.
“Kuhuk…! Ah, no…!”
“Keke. Right. Elden, that’s just like you. Crushing that hand that reaches out for hope. Making sure she never harbors vain hope again.”
Huk….
Hukhuk….
It’s so hard….
I feel like I’m going to die….
But… I never blamed you……
Even though it was so hard to the point of death, I never ran away……
Because I chose to endure the hellish pain for the joy of learning……
Huk….
But…….
Really….
“Lady? Are you crying?!”
That time….
“Lady!? Please wake up…!”
It was too hard…….
**
“Was it a nightmare you had?”
“Ah….”
Lermian woke up, sitting up in bed, leaning back against the headboard.
Marien sat beside her, wiping the cold sweat from her arms and neck with a wet towel.
“I was shocked when I came in because you were sleeping in later than usual.”
Her blue eyes looked vacant, her lips dry and cracked, unable to close, and Lermian couldn’t even brush off the hair stuck to her forehead with sweat.
It was a side of the lady Marien had never seen before, and it visibly startled her.
And Lermian felt the same.
She hadn’t had nightmares since graduating from the academy.
She had left all the pain and tears at the academy, returned home, and buried herself in research and experiments based on the knowledge and wisdom she had gained over three years.
The knowledge and wisdom of scholarship she had earned by barely surviving through three years of hell were used to erase those hells, one by one.
She didn’t regret it.
Except for the regret that if it weren’t for the curse of the Ghastlord, those three years wouldn’t have to be called hell.
Because back then, it was truly unbearable.
So much so, she even considered revealing her identity against her father’s earnest advice.
The fear of the abuse she was suffering then was more terrifying than the unpredictable death from the curse.
However, she couldn’t do it out of remorse for her father, who had always discouraged her from revealing herself to protect her from the curse.
She had to hide the scars engraved on her body for her father, who had swallowed tears to protect her, without revealing her identity or reporting the quartet’s misdeeds.
It was all a result of her stubbornness, her choices borne from that stubbornness.
Therefore, she thought it was right to bear it alone and chose oblivion over revenge.
Of course, when the scars from the abuse throbbed occasionally, the fear of those days was forcibly recalled, making her tremble and collapse as if the world was falling apart.
Those scattered memories.
Perhaps that was why she had lived more devotedly to research and experiments, to forget them.
Despite this, the memories that occasionally surfaced and messed up her thoughts were the reason she chose those four as the final candidates for this betrothal contest.
For complete oblivion.
For complete liberation.
Whether oblivion and liberation awaited her at the end was uncertain.
Anyway.
Thanks to those efforts, she had never had a nightmare before, which was why she was filled with confusion and shock.
What could it be?
Why did she have a nightmare now?
Lermian couldn’t understand.
As she wiped her face, Marien asked with concern.
“But… Lady.”
“Yes.”
“That… The betrothal contest requires you to ‘definitely’ choose a fiancé from the final candidates, right?”
Lermian nodded.
Just as there had never been a precedent for a candidate to abstain in the history of the betrothal contest, there had never been an instance where a winner of the betrothal contest wasn’t chosen.
Choosing one among the four final candidates to hold the betrothal ceremony was how the betrothal contest was grandly concluded.
It was the tradition of the Winterfell Grand Duchy, and her brothers and sisters had followed that tradition, marrying their winners and living happily ever after.
“…That’s right.”
“Have you thought about it?”
Marien, the only person who knew of Lermian’s revenge.
She was worried as she watched her lady drying up like a flower that had lost its light since the start of her revenge.
Especially since Elden Rapellion abstained, she seemed to be wilting rapidly.
Sometimes she muttered to herself, tearing at her hair and scribbling on paper.
She neglected her meals and even her beloved research and experiments, spending all day engrossed in thought.
Marien knew it was a quest for light, but she wondered if there would truly be light at the end of this path.
Honestly, she wanted to dissuade her.
Knowing that she was terrified of the horrors of those days and couldn’t easily shake them off, she wondered if this was truly the right choice.
Reading Marien’s concern, Lermian tried to smile and patted her head.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”
“…I’m worried.”
“Then Marien, who do you think I should marry?”
“Hmm…”
It was a difficult question.
Choosing one among the quartet, for someone who knew of Lermian’s scars, was a cruel question.
Unable to answer, Lermian provided one herself.
“One of two.”
“Yes?”
“Someone who sincerely repents and regrets. Or… someone who, to the end, neither regrets nor repents. One of them will likely end up marrying me.”
“Ah…”
If the former, it would be a happy ending for everyone, but the latter felt like it would lead to a bad ending.
With that, Marien could only let out a vague sigh, hoping for a happy ending for her lady.
**
Knock knock.
Rejuvenated, Lermian sat in her office.
The youngest daughter of the Grand Duke’s family.
For the youngest daughter, who had not yet entered the adult world without a betrothal, there were no official documents to review or approvals to process in the office.
She was simply pondering over the conundrum thrown at her by Elden Rapellion.
“Lady.”
The person entering.
It was Gelwood.
“Come in. Please sit here.”
He had come to report what he had gathered and observed since the first abstention was announced by the lady.
Following Lermian, Gelwood sat on the sofa and started with a concerned look.
“You look quite pale. Is something wrong?”
The betrothal contest’s final presentation was a few days away, and the overseer couldn’t help but be concerned about the protagonist’s haggard appearance.
Like she did with Marien, Lermian tried to smile and responded.
“I’m fine. More importantly, was there any special trend after graduation?”
“Nothing in particular.”
“…I see. What about after the abstention?”
“It was indeed strange.”
“In what way?”
Lermian leaned in, interested.
“He’s been refusing any night service in the annex and hasn’t been drinking at all.”
“…Elden Rapellion?”
It was a report hard to believe, prompting Lermian to ask again.
A drunkard, a womanizer.
Those two epithets were synonymous with Elden Rapellion.
Moreover, these were activities conducted within the privacy of the annex, where there was no need to perform such a farce out of sight.
Or perhaps.
“Could it be, he noticed the surveillance and tailing?”
Gelwood firmly shook his head, dismissing the possibility.
“That’s unlikely. He’s one to make his money’s worth.”
“…Alright. Is the testimony reliable enough?”
“Yes. It’s a direct testimony from a maid in the annex. She even said he refused her service.”
“…Anything else?”
“Since declaring his abstention, he’s been enjoying reading. He visits the library every day.”
“What?”
Lermian frowned.
That was absurd enough.
He might have used books as firewood, but he was certainly not one to enjoy the contents within.
“And today at lunch, he dined in the Great Hall with someone he was reading with before heading to the training grounds with his knight.”
“Wait. He dined with someone he was ‘reading’ with?”
“Yes.”
“Who was it?”
“Ariel Elrond, the Countess.”
“What…?”
Ariel Elrond.
That name made Lermian’s pupils dilate.
An unexpected name, a name sunk below the surface of memory, one of the many names boxed up and left neglected somewhere.
At the same time, a blond bun-haired student who only read novels and showed no interest in academics came to mind.
A bookworm and a hooligan.
Such contradictory traits forming an implausible combination were enough to arouse suspicion.
“Do you know her?”
A new hypothesis emerged in Lermian’s mind.
One she had never considered before, never approached by any means.
Love.
If the force that could forcibly mix distinctly opposing properties existed, then maybe it could solve this complex and absurd conundrum.
If even water and oil could be mixed by that powerful force, perhaps it could free a researcher tormented by an unsolvable problem.
“Can you arrange a meeting?”
“With Lord Elden?”
“No. With Lady Ariel Elrond.”
Thus, misunderstanding begin