Promises and Reality

“Lady Hannelore, what do you mean by saying you love Lord Kenntrips!? I haven’t heard anything about that!”

They had all grown close to me after my baptism and served as my retainers only after I began attending the Royal Academy. They likely had little knowledge of the exchanges that had taken place before my baptism.

“Everyone, please calm yourselves.”

Though my retainers were clearly the ones flustered by Kenntrips’ words, the truth was that I was the one most shaken. He had remembered our exchange from childhood and deliberately waited until after retrieving the anti-eavesdropping magic tool—so that everyone could hear him—before whispering those words.

“If you already had someone you loved, then there should have been no reason to hesitate between your two fiancé candidates.”

“If I had remembered, I certainly wouldn’t have hesitated…”

…No, that wasn’t true. I likely would have agonized over it even more.

When I thought back on how I felt at the time both were named as fiancé candidates, I truly believed it was a blessing I hadn’t remembered. I had been full of doubt and misunderstandings—we may have ended up even more estranged than we were.

“Lady Hannelore, did you not remember saying you loved him?”

“It had nothing to do with romance at the time. Idonalitte, do you remember everything you said to those you played with before your baptism?”

“Eh? Before baptism…?”

My retainers all wore baffled expressions. I gave a small nod.

“It was something I said when I was very young, before my baptism. I had completely forgotten things such as this from my childhood.”

“You interacted with Lord Kenntrips before your baptism, Lady Hannelore?”

It was no wonder they were surprised. Among ordinary nobles, pre-baptism interactions were usually limited to children of closely related families or very dear friends. For children of a first wife in the archducal or next-ruling family, life before the baptism ceremony was spent in the archducal residential area, often with barely any contact even among half-siblings. They must have assumed I had said “I love you” to Kenntrips after the baptism ceremony.

“I interacted with both Kenntrips and Rasantark before my baptism, you know. They’re my uncle’s sons, so they attended the family gatherings of the archducal family. Among my retainers, I believe only Cordula would know of those meetings?”

“Indeed. My ties go back to the previous archduke, and Lady Sieglinde herself appointed me as your head attendant.”

These family gatherings were officially meant to strengthen the bonds among the archduke’s bloodline. In truth, they also served as rare chances for pre-baptism children, who could not leave the castle, to gain experience interacting with peers, to test compatibility with branch family retainers, and to observe each household’s factional ties and social connections. For members of the archducal family who would continue supporting the archduke even after marriage, it was important to evaluate potential retainers from the branches early, especially for future mana supply duties.

”…Since I was raised with the assumption that I would marry into another duchy, I was hardly assigned retainers from the archducal branch families.”

“Now that you mention it, unlike you, Lady Hannelore, Lord Lestilaut’s retainers include many from the archduke’s extended family.”

Though I currently had attendants from the ruling family’s side branches like Cordula among my adult retainers, none of my underage retainers came from such bloodlines. Since I had been expected to marry into another duchy, there had been no perceived need.

Even my adult branch attendants had not been personally chosen by me. It felt more like I had been borrowing those whom my father or mother had assigned—individuals who doubled as tutors or messengers—until I married.

…Now that I have chosen to remain in Dunkelfelger, I need to reevaluate my relationships with my retainers and begin appointing branch members of the archducal family into my service to support me.

Challenges I had never noticed before were beginning to reveal themselves one after another.

“Then, does that mean you knew not only Lord Kenntrips and Lord Rasantark from the family gatherings before your baptism, but also Lord Reginald and Lord Kodenest?”

“Well…yes.”

“If it happened before your baptism, then it’s understandable that you wouldn’t remember it. We assumed it was something from around the time we became your retainers.”

“By that time, I already understood I was being raised to marry into another duchy, so no matter how close I was with someone, I would never have carelessly expressed affection. As my baptism approached, I was very strictly instructed on maintaining a proper distance from men.”

“That was even before Kenntrips’ own baptism, after all. The exchange back then was quite adorable.”

Cordula let out a quiet chuckle, and then began recounting to the others exactly how the words “I love you” had come out of my mouth. She explained that it had been Kenntrips’ job to comfort me when I cried after my older brother left me behind, or that I had glared at my brother after he came back from playing with the boys and pointedly declared, “I love Kentripps more than my brother!”—as if I meant to spite him.

From an outsider’s point of view, it might have sounded charming and innocent… but as the person involved, I wanted nothing more than to cover my ears and hide away somewhere.

…Cordula, please stop sounding so delighted while recalling all of this in such vivid detail—especially when you remember it better than I do!

I understood—truly, I did. I knew it was important to explain to my retainers that those words hadn’t come from some youthful romance. I knew that, while Cordula shared the story in detail, she had chosen carefully what could and could not be said.

…Even among fellow retainers, there were many things about the gatherings we couldn’t speak openly about.

On the days of those gatherings, any retainers not of blood relation were either given leave or assigned to work elsewhere. Sometimes, all castle duties were suspended entirely. Very few people even knew the gatherings happened, as they involved children who had not yet undergone their baptism ceremonies, and so security was always incredibly tight.

…For example, the fact that Prince Hildebrand once attended a gathering, accompanied by Lady Magdalena—there was absolutely no way that sort of thing could ever be made public.

Lady Magdalena’s attendance at the gatherings had not only served to maintain ties with the descendants connected by blood to the archducal family, but was also part of her efforts to secure continued support from Dunkelfelger. As far as I knew, she had visited once during her time as a royal, and once again after relocating to Blumenfeld. Our retired former lord and lady—my grandfather and grandmother—who could no longer travel to the Royal Palace, had been overjoyed by their visit.

…Back when I was still very young, I used to look forward to those gatherings with great excitement.

They were joyous occasions where children could play freely together. And yet, they also served as places where the stark differences in status were laid bare—where the truth that we could not simply live as we pleased was made painfully clear.

If I had to name the first time I encountered such unfairness, it would likely be the moment I learned what it meant to have retainers. I reached deep into the corners of my memory, pulling out a piece of my childhood that I usually chose not to revisit.

◆

“My mother told me that it was time I started thinking about retainers. They are always with you, aren’t they? I think I want Kenntrips.”

Back then, Kenntrips never went off to play with my older brother—he always stayed by my side. He would protect me whenever my brother was being mean, read books to me, and even studied manners with me. I had thought it would be wonderful if he could be my retainer.

”…Unfortunately, it has already been decided that I will become Lord Lestilaut’s retainer.”

“Eh? I can’t have you?”

I had been so sure my wish would be accepted that I didn’t know how to react when it wasn’t. Even when I cried and begged, Kenntrips didn’t respond like he usually did. My mother and attendants only told me, “You must be reasonable,” again and again.

“Brother is unfair…! We’re both children of the Archduke, so why is it allowed for him and not for me…? Uuuuu…”

“Please don’t cry, Lady Hannelore.”

Kenntrips had pulled me onto his lap and held me gently to comfort me—yet even he had started shedding tears.

“I wanted to protect you too, Lady Hannelore. But… my father said I couldn’t. He told me to support Lord Lestilaut, the future Archduke…”

“Kenntrips, don’t cry. I’ll defeat Uncle for you.”

“You mustn’t. My father, Lady Sieglinde, and your father all made this decision for the sake of the duchy. If I could choose for myself, I would choose you, Lady Hannelore.”

“If I could choose too, I’d absolutely choose you, Kenntrips! It’s a promise! Because I love you, Kenntrips!”

We had both cried and cried, frustrated that things wouldn’t go the way we wanted, and in the end, we could only swallow the unfairness and accept it with resignation.

After that, differences in status—as the next aub and a member of the archducal family destined to marry into another duchy—the distinctions in education based on gender, the appropriate distance expected between boys and girls… Restrictions kept piling up, one after another, until I had completely forgotten that first bitter moment of unfairness that made me cry.

…But back then, we made so many promises—countless, even the smallest of things.

Trying to cover up the awkwardness I felt over having forgotten something that he had remembered, I began recalling all the little promises we had once made. The way I was supposed to stand up after sitting on his lap, for example. Or how he once told me, “If you ever want to speak in secret, just tug on my sleeve.” That, too, came from Kenntrips.

…Back then, Kenntrips had practically been my etiquette tutor.

As a child, I had believed my older brother and I were the same, and I had no interest whatsoever in the refined behavior expected of noble ladies. I couldn’t understand why I alone was scolded so harshly, when my brother was never told the same things. I simply didn’t grasp the difference in expectations placed on us because of our gender.

I couldn’t accept the reasons I was expected to behave in a ladylike manner. I rebelled against my tutors, got scolded whenever I failed to do things their way, and even when I tried my best, all I heard was, “You’re not there yet.” Unlike the training I received in formal techniques—where success was rewarded—etiquette seemed to bring nothing but reprimands, and that only made me resent it more. It became a vicious cycle.

But then, at the family gatherings, when my brother was being mean and Kenntrips stepped in to shield me… when he comforted me while I cried, or read books aloud to me, and gently explained, “In times like that, you should do this,” I couldn’t bring myself to resist. I didn’t want to be scolded or disliked by him. So even if reluctantly, I started doing as he said. And when I did, instead of being corrected over and over again, he would softly praise me: “Ah, well done.”

Before I even realized it, the joy of being praised had me repeating everything he taught me with a beaming smile. Eventually, my ever-scolding etiquette tutor was quietly replaced with one who praised more readily—Kenntrips himself. During the gatherings, he treated me like a true lady, and we ended up making countless little promises about how I should carry myself.

“Please promise me. No matter how hot it gets, don’t flap your skirt around to fan yourself…”

“When standing up, wait for your attendant or a gentleman escort to offer their hand. That’s a promise, alright?”

…Once I remembered one thing, the memories from childhood just kept coming back in waves.

“I have to support my brother too, you know? So Kenntrips, let’s support him together. Promise me, okay?”

“Yes, it’s a promise. And Lady Hannelore, if anything troubles you, please come to me first. That’s a promise too.”

…Ah.

“Even if you become my brother’s retainer, you still have to protect me from him. You’re my knight who protects me from my brother.”

“No… I can’t become a knight. I’ve been ordered to become a scholar. I wish I could be your knight…”

“You can still protect me as a scholar. Scholars make the strongest magic tools, don’t they? When something happens, protect me with one of those. Promise me you’ll make one just for that.”

…Ah! Wait! We made so many promises, not just about etiquette!

It felt like I had broken every single important promise. I recalled several conversations I had with Kenntrips since becoming a fifth-year student at the Royal Academy, and as I remembered his reactions and expressions, I could feel the blood drain from my face.

…Could it be that Kenntrips remembered all of them?

No wonder he once said he couldn’t trust me. The more I remembered, the less I understood why he still liked me at all. And yet, despite everything, the fact that he didn’t dislike me even now gave me a strange sense of certainty—he probably never would.

◆

“Lady Hannelore, do you still love Lord Kenntrips?”

“Heh!?”

As I was being helplessly swept away by a flood of memories I didn’t particularly want to remember, Andrea suddenly addressed me, and I jumped, my shoulders trembling.

“It’s… hard to say when you put it as ‘still.’ It’s a little different from how it was when we were children…”

“But you haven’t grown to dislike him, correct?”

“No, certainly not.”

There was no reason for me to dislike Kenntrips. When I stated that firmly, Andrea blinked in surprise and looked at me intently. I immediately recognized that expression—it was the one she wore when trying to gauge feelings of romantic affection—and hurried to add more.

“Andrea, um, I am fond of him, but it’s not romantic yet. Truly.”

”…I see. Fufu…”

The gentle smile she gave me only made me feel more flustered. I quickly decided to change the subject.

“M-More importantly, achieving the conditions for the proposal is what matters now. For Kenntrips to participate in the bride-stealing ditter, I believe we have no choice but to negotiate directly with the Zent.”

It had been the Zent who placed conditions on the bride-stealing ditter. She had not been well-versed in the customs of ditter and had made an effort to understand them during conversations with me. Therefore, if I explained the position of fiance candidates within Dunkelfelger, there was a high possibility that Kenntrips’ participation would be approved.

”…Do you really think a discussion with the Zent will go well, even if we hope for it?”

“At the very least, I believe it is far more promising to speak with the Zent than to negotiate with Father, who thinks there’s no point in helping Kenntrips since Rasantark is already eligible to participate.”

Although my retainers had been so united in their desire to avoid becoming the treasurers for ditter, they now seemed rather unenthusiastic. Urging them forward, I promptly sent a wooden board to Lady Eglantine requesting a meeting time for a discussion.

“Milady, a response has arrived.”

What Cordula handed me was a brief and straightforward rejection. “The Zent is extremely busy and cannot make time for a meeting without knowing the purpose,” it said. Apparently, my request for an audience hadn’t even reached the Zent and had been dismissed by the scholars.

“Well, I suppose that’s to be expected.”

Cordula nodded with a perfectly reasonable expression, but I felt completely at a loss. If the Zent would only listen, I was certain she would understand—but I had been turned away before I could even speak. Even so, giving up here wasn’t an option.

“I cannot give up here. If I include the purpose in the request, might they grant me time?”

”…To be honest, with how much busier the Zent is this year compared to usual, I believe it would be difficult to obtain an audience. However, if we put our request in writing and simply ask for a written reply, that may be possible.”

Cordula explained with a troubled expression that the reason the Zent was busier than usual this year was because, during the season when her workload would normally lessen thanks to the Royal Academy starting, a goddess had descended, Lady Rozemyne had vanished, and a bride-stealing ditter match was arranged—something that now had to be conducted under her direct supervision. She added that during the Royal Academy season, sovereign nobles usually returned to their home duchies and engaged in socializing, which also left the Royal Palace understaffed.

“It seems some scholars have been recalled from various duchies to gather information about the goddess’s descent and the bride-stealing ditter, but they still can’t neglect intelligence gathering in their own duchy, so it’s a tricky balance,” Andrea informed me.

“Apparently, even two from Dunkelfelger were ordered to return to the palace,” Idonalitte added. “I managed to speak briefly with my aunt when she passed through the dormitory. She was lamenting that she’d been sent back by the aub to investigate the state of other duchies.”

Andrea and Idonalitte, who had relatives among the sovereign nobles, shared what they knew about the current state of the Royal Palace and the sovereign nobility. That alone made it clear just how busy the Zent truly was.

”…I’ll submit it not as a meeting request but as a formal petition instead,” I said.

“Yes. Since it’s a document addressed to the Zent, please be sure to consult thoroughly with the apprentice scholars and examine it carefully before submitting,” Cordula warned.

Heeding her advice, I gathered the apprentice scholars in the meeting room and studied sample documents submitted to the Zent, crafting the petition carefully to avoid any offense.

The petition stated that a fiancé candidate who could not participate in a marriage-stealing ditter would not be accepted as a groom by the nobles of Dunkelfelger, and that due to the Zent’s imposed restrictions, the apprentice scholar Kendtrips was currently unable to participate. It was a request for a relaxation of the ditter conditions or an exception to be made.

“Lady Hannelore, the Zent’s reply has arrived,” one of the apprentices reported. “It says she is unable to grant your request.”

What was returned was a wooden board with nothing more than a brief rejection. I couldn’t believe that this was truly a response from Lady Eglantine —someone who had always listened to me and considered the hopes of Dunkelfelger. For a moment, everything went dark before my eyes.

“Why was it rejected…? There wasn’t any flaw in the document, was there? I can’t imagine that allowing Kenntrips, a fiancé candidate, to participate in the bride-stealing ditter would be so difficult for the Zent…”

It was merely a matter of allowing both fiancé candidates to compete. If the condition required the suitor and his father to participate, then ordering both candidates to enter should have been no issue.

“Milady, let’s give up on asking the Zent and think of another way,” Cordula said bluntly.

“But Cordula… unless the Zent ultimately grants approval, isn’t Kendtrips’ participation hopeless?”

”…That may be true, but now that we’ve received a formal written response, we’ll need to approach this through other means.”

…Other means, she says—but what exactly could that be?

As I searched for even the slightest way to reach the Zent, I suddenly had a realization when I saw Professor Anastasius during a lesson. The person closest to the Zent—her husband—was right here. Just sitting around wouldn’t change anything. I decided then and there to ask him for help after class.

“Professor Anastasius, I actually have a favor to ask…”

”…If you’re about to ask me to speak to Eglantine on your behalf, the answer is no.”

Before I could even state my request, Professor Anastasius rejected it outright.

“Uh, I just… wanted to ask if you would hear me out…”

“So a mere archduke candidate dares to request that the Zent make time for her personal wishes? If you think such a thing should be granted as a matter of course, then your arrogance knows no bounds. Are you planning to wield your title as the Second Avatar of the Goddess against Eglantine?”

“I had no such intention…”

Struck by his piercing gaze, I lost the words on my lips. This was no longer the kindly demeanor of a professor—it was the commanding, dignified gaze of royalty. I instinctively took a step back.

“Because Eglantine socialized with others through written requests during her time at the Royal Academy, you’ve all grown far too familiar. Did you ever make such requests of royalty when my father was the Zent?”

When I was asked whether I would have done the same to Lord Trauerqual, I finally understood just how much my actions had lacked fear and respect toward the royal family. At the same time, the comments my retainers had made—subtly trying to dissuade me from approaching the Zent—suddenly made perfect sense.

”…I deeply apologize. Since I was invited by Zent Eglantine to speak with her about the bride-stealing ditter, I naively assumed a follow-up discussion would be accepted. I offer my sincerest apologies.”

As I knelt and apologized, Professor Anastasius looked down at me and let out a quiet sigh.

“Eglantine was concerned about that too. But she decided on those conditions after consulting with Aub Dunkelfelger, and then made a formal announcement to all duchies as Zent. She cannot change the contents, or make an exception for just one fiancé candidate, merely because of your personal request. This matter involves multiple duchies. Granting an exception would lead others to demand the same.”

It sounded as though I wasn’t the only one trying to seek an exception. And in that moment, I realized there were likely others the Zent and Professor Anastasius already expected might do the same.

“If you must persist,” he added, “then at the very least the request must come from Aub Dunkelfelger. The Zent does not have the leisure to entertain the selfish whims of an underage archducal candidate. This time, I will let it go as a matter of instruction from a professor —but if it happens again, it will be raised as a formal complaint to your Aub.”

With that warning, Professor Anastasius left the classroom. I remained kneeling and expressed my gratitude for having it resolved as part of my instruction, watching his back as he departed.

…This was a failure.

I had thought that, because the Zent was unfamiliar with bride-stealing ditter, she would understand once we talked and cleared up the miscommunication. But that had not been the case. The truth was, the Zent was not someone I could simply speak to directly.

…At this rate, fulfilling the conditions for the proposal might be impossible.

I couldn’t think of any other way to appeal to the Zent. What could I do to reach her? Lost in helpless thought, I found myself falling into a familiar habit—my fingers curled around the charm at my wrist.

“Liebeskhilfe the Goddess of Binding… I’ve chosen Kenntrips. I might have chosen him too late, but I don’t want to give up just yet. What should I do?”

…Ah. I’ve done it again.

Though I had been careful not to pray unnecessarily lately, I ended up doing so out of sheer desperation. I felt so cornered that I couldn’t help myself. Honestly, I had no intention of taking back my plea to the goddess, at this point, I would cling to anything, but I had to admit it was a careless slip.

Still feeling disheartened, I stood up and left the classroom, returning to my chambers.

“Lady Hannelore, you don’t look well at all.”

”…Professor Anastasius scolded me. It was my fault, of course… But more importantly, Andrea, what is that wooden board in your hand?”

Not wanting to speak in detail about the reprimand, I changed the subject. Andrea handed me the wooden plaque she was holding.

“I’m sorry to bring this up while you’re feeling down, but it seems Lady Letizia from Alexandria has a matter she wishes to consult you about. She’s invited you to a tea party.”

“From Lady Letizia?”

I quickly read through the wooden board. However, it said nothing about the contents of the consultation, only that she wished to speak urgently.

…Has something happened in Alexandria while Lady Rozemyne is absent?

“I promised I would help however I could. If she wishes to consult with me, it’s best to hear her out sooner rather than later. Please arrange a date promptly.”

“As you wish.”