The swaying of the carriage continued with rhythmic persistence.
Each time the wheels struck a seam in the highway, the seat gave a small jolt. It was a sensation I had long since grown used to. Traveling to various regions for the duties of an Inspector was simply part of my daily life as Hermine.
Outside the window, a familiar landscape unfolded. Fields that had been cleared after the harvest stretched out endlessly, bathed in the afternoon sunlight. Piles of straw stacked here and there cast long shadows across the earth. It was a scene symbolic of the Marquisate of Ahrens, a great granary region that served as the backbone of the provinces. It was my birthplace, my point of origin.
Usually, this landscape brought me peace, but today my heart would not clear.
The boy, or the young lady? I should have already known which one to prioritize, yet that gruesome sight from the estate still refused to leave my mind.
Yielding to the swaying of the carriage, I closed my eyes.
I needed to organize my thoughts.
◇◇◇
I was born in a certain town within the Marquisate of Ahrens. My parents were commoners who ran a small business; I came from no special lineage.
To prepare me for the family business’s accounts and ledgers, I was sent to a private school in town from a young age. I studied reading, writing, and arithmetic alongside the other local children.
Apparently, my performance there was slightly better than most. Eventually, a recommendation from the school principal reached the House of the Marquis, and one day, a messenger from that noble house visited my parents.
—Would you like to receive an education at the Academy as a Scholarship Student of House Ahrens?
My parents nodded, albeit with some hesitation. That was the starting point of my life.
From then on, I attended a Regional Academy. Arithmetic, geography, history, the structure of administration—I learned every discipline from the Academy's teachers.
As a Scholarship Student, I was occasionally invited to events at the Marquis’s estate for interactions with civil officials and to report on my progress.
On those occasions, the young lady I caught sight of in the courtyard was still a small girl of only a few years. Her pale blonde hair would flutter in the wind as she slipped through the hands of her maids and ran across the grass. There was never an opportunity for someone like me, a mere Scholarship Student, to directly exchange words with her.
After completing the scholarship curriculum, I passed the District Office examination and was assigned to the Audit Department. In my late twenties, I was granted the rank of Inspector. It was an extraordinary promotion for someone of commoner origin.
Everything I had was possible only because of the support of House Ahrens.
I have never forgotten that debt of gratitude.
◇◇◇
—There is information I wish for you to investigate.
It was about a year ago when I was directly addressed by Marquis Gerhard.
I was summoned to his office at the estate. After clearing the room of all attendants, the Marquis spoke to me.
"Among the operational information gathered by the Audit Department, if you find any cases related to treatments or medical care concerning noble houses that catch your eye, I want you to pass them to me."
The information in the Audit Department is not specifically classified; it is a mountain of miscellaneous records gathered through daily operations, and usually, no one takes any interest in it. Having an official select and pass useful information to a patron house is not strictly considered illegal. Within that gray zone of custom, officials move at their own discretion.
I nodded immediately. I felt no need to ask the reason, as I saw it as an opportunity to repay the debt I owed as a Scholarship Student.
However, the Marquis chose to confide his motive to me.
It was the incident involving the young lady.
There are four daughters in House Ahrens. Among them, there was a tragic and well-known story regarding the eldest, Lady Clarissa.
—Three years ago, when the young lady attended a social debut ball in the Royal Capital, it is said she was approached by the Second Prince of the Kingdom of Farden, who asked her, "Will you not become my concubine?"
The Marquis's voice had been flat, as if he had killed his emotions. Even so, he could not entirely hide the occasional trembling of his words.
Lady Clarissa had refused him immediately.
There were two reasons.
First, she already had a childhood friend and fiancé—the second son of a client Viscount house, who was scheduled to marry into the family and succeed the Marquisate.
And second, the fact that if one were to marry a daughter of a Marquis, it would not be fitting unless she were the primary consort, or at least granted the status of a formal wife. The suggestion of becoming a concubine was itself equivalent to an insult to House Ahrens.
The Second Prince had backed down then and there.
—However, on the way back from the Royal Capital, her carriage was attacked.
It was reported as an assault by bandits. Yet, the precision of the attack was far too unnatural. House Ahrens’s skilled Order of Official Knights was broken through as if their route and defenses had been perfectly transparent.
Furthermore, the actions of the attackers were unlike those of any common brigands.
—They stole no valuables, nor did they kidnap the young lady. They simply slashed her face mercilessly, sprinkled a Low-grade Potion over the wounds, and then quietly departed.
When a Low-grade Potion is sprinkled over deep lacerations, only the surface of the wound closes halfway, fixing the interior in an incomplete, mangled state. It was a phenomenon known as Old Scarring.
—It can no longer be cured with normal Recovery Magic.
The Marquis paused there, his jaw tight.
Publicly, it was handled as an "accident." However, within the Regional Noble Faction, it was an unspoken consensus whose hands had caused the tragedy. Since there was no physical evidence, no official pursuit could be made. There was only the fact that the second daughter was engaged to a member of the central Robe Nobility, and if things continued as they were, the greatest beneficiary of Lady Clarissa's downfall would be the Central Nobility.
They had requested treatment from Saint Therese, but it was said that the young lady herself could not endure the horrific, intense pain of Regeneration Magic and had requested the cessation of treatment of her own volition.
After that, Lady Clarissa—
"I do not have the right to spend my life with my childhood friend."
With those words, she distanced herself from her fiancé and cut off all social contact.
The Marquis's voice sank deeply as he reached the end of his tale.
"I beg of you. I want to find a treatment. Even if it is the thinnest of threads, if there is a possibility of a connection, I want to rely on it."
To me, who was overwhelmingly inferior in standing, he had bowed his head deeply.
Ever since then, I have been selecting information regarding medical care and treatments within my duties at the Audit Department. Most were irrelevant, but about a month ago—
—A report on the human experimentation in the County of Werl.
I found an unnatural detail within the treatment results recorded there.
"There is no mention of pain..."
And so, I set out for the audit.
◇◇◇
It was shortly before dusk when the carriage passed through the gates of Ahrensberg and arrived at the main gate of the Marquis's estate.
Guided by the butler, I proceeded to the office.
The Marquis was standing by the window. The moment he turned around and saw my face, he knit his brows slightly.
"Miss Hermine, the dark circles under your eyes are dreadful. Are you feeling well?"
I lowered my head slightly.
"Thank you for your concern, Marquis Gerhard. I have simply had a few sleepless nights lately."
"Before I begin the report on the matter at hand, may I request that we clear the room?"
The Marquis's eyebrows rose for just an instant.
"Is there something inconvenient? Something so serious it cannot be told to those here?"
"...Yes. Depending on the situation, it is information that could lead to a definitive deterioration of relations with House Werl."
"Understood. Everyone, leave us."
The scribe and the attendant waiting in the office bowed deeply and exited.
Just the two of us remained.
The sight of that boy cutting his own arm to heal another was something I had burned into my memory. My conscience screamed that he must not be forced to do that any longer.
However, the possibility of saving the young lady was now right before me.
If Lady Clarissa were saved, it would eventually become known to society that she had been healed. If that were to lead back to Lord Rein, what would happen to him?
Would I save the young lady from her hell, only to drop a child into another?
The scales in my heart continued to waver.
—I am sorry, Lord Rein.
Deep in my soul, I offered a silent apology.
I took a deep breath.
"I shall report."
With those words, I began to spread the documents out on the desk.
◇◇◇
In the strong afternoon sunlight, a single freight wagon moved along the highway. Two men who looked like merchants sat in the driver's seat.
Only the sound of the wheels crushing the gravel echoed rhythmically.
"Be careful how you handle the cargo."
"Who would be fool enough to handle such dangerous goods lightly... Whoops, a horse is coming."
"Keep your head down. Don't let them suspect anything."
The two fell silent.
From the far side of the highway, the sound of hooves approached. A single horse. It was an express messenger at full gallop.
The sound of hooves grew louder in an instant; as they passed each other, the wind shook the wagon's canopy, and then the rider faded into the distance.
"...He's gone."
"That was... an express messenger. He was carrying a mail bag; must be an urgent letter."
"Forget it. We need to hurry."
The freight wagon continued along the highway as if nothing had happened.
Only the sound of the wheels echoed among the vast, silent fields.