At Serendia Academy, students chose two elective classes to participate in each year. Lillian had chosen fine arts for her first and chess for her second. Two days after her first elective class, which she had to miss, she headed to her chess classroom after dragging Theodore out and sending him to do his duties as the actual medical officer.
During the observation day, she'd attempted to play the game without really knowing the rules. But this time, she'd memorized the entire textbook on the subject in advance.
As she walked, she reflected on the contents of said book, which she'd stayed up late reading the night before. Just then, she heard a lively voice calling to her from behind.
"Hey! Lillian!"
When she turned around, sure enough, she saw a tall young man with dirty-blond hair waving to her, Glenn. Next to him was Neil, who was considerably shorter, and his fiancée, the beautiful and tall Claudia. It was a strange group.
Bowing, Lillian greeted. "Hello. Are the three of you taking the same class together?"
"We sure are!" answered Glenn. "We're about to go to fundamental magecraft!"
When she'd seen him the day before, using a flight spell to zoom around the sky, that had been practical magecraft—where students tried out for real. Fundamental magecraft, which they were heading to now, was focused on classroom learning. Once a student had completed both classes, they could progress to the advanced practical magecraft course the year after that. The advanced course was what Cyril was taking, and Glenn apparently intended to start it the following year.
"Practical magecraft was so fun," Glenn continued. "We got to use a bunch of spells! But it's a sit-down lecture in fundamentals today... Neil, if I fall asleep, wake me up, will you?"
Neil offered a pained grin. Glenn already seemed sure he'd be napping in class. Claudia looped her arm through Neil's. "So you've got Neil to agree to wake you up if you doze off? I see... Not a bad idea at all."
"Um, Lady Claudia," said her fiancé with a troubled expression. "You're not going to fall asleep, are you?"
Claudia simply smiled back—or maybe it was more of a smirk. In any case, it made her look positively wicked. Meanwhile, Glenn looked with great interest at the textbook clutched in Lillian's hands.
"What class did you end up taking?" he asked.
"I chose fine arts and chess... Today is chess class."
"Chess, huh? Sounds pretty hard," Glenn said simply.
Neil smiled and cut in. "That brings me back," he said. "Lady Claudia and I took chess last year. Isn't that right?"
"...Yes, we did."
In contrast to Neil's grin, Claudia's expression was clouded. She always had a gloomy, melancholic air about her, but that aura seemed to grow twice as heavy as soon as she heard the word chess.
I wonder what happened... Lillian wondered, at a loss for how to react.
Suddenly, she felt a weight press down on her. This wasn't the weight of Claudia's mood, however, but a physical weight. Some had placed their hand on her shoulder. With stilted motions, Lillian turned around to find a pair of drooping eyes staring at her. It was one of the student council secretaries, Elliott Howard.
"Hey there, little squirrel," he said. "Time for chess class, right? We're both going, so we might as well head there together."
There was an upbeat smile on his face, but Lillian was unable to decipher their true intentions. Elliott was a stickler when it came to social hierarchy. He disliked Lillian because she had been chosen as a student council member despite her unclear background. When they had previously encountered intruders pretending to be from the Abbott Company, he'd made it very clear the two of them were different—he had responsibilities, and she did not.
That must be how he truly felt about her. And, come to think of it, Lillian had barely spoken to the secretary since then. He'd been incredibly busy dealing with the incident's fallout, after all.
"We should go," said Elliott gruffly.
"Of course..."
Lillian bowed to Glenn and the others and started walking after Elliott. He thudded down the hallway without a word, and she needed to jog a little bit to keep up. She chased after him, slightly out of breath.
When they arrived at the classroom, Lillian wondered where she should sit, and Elliott gestured with his chin toward the window.
"Sit over there. Let's play a game," he said before taking a chessboard off the shelf without waiting for her answer. "
Lillian sat down as instructed, and Elliott picked up the two kings' pieces and switched them around in his hand underneath the desk. When he was done, he held his closed fists out to Lillian. "Pick whichever one you want."
"This one," she said, pointing.
He opened the hand she'd indicated to reveal the black kind. Elliott would have the first turn as white, while Lillian would go after him as black. As she linked up her pieces, Elliott, who had finished his own side already, propped his chin on his hand and said, "Hey."
"Yes? What is it?"
"About the match we played before on observation day," he murmured, toying with one of his pieces. "I hadn't told you about casting yet, but I still used it to win... Why didn't you point that out in front of everyone?"
Lillian blinked, not understanding. She remembered quite well her first game of chess on observation day. Elliott had handicapped himself by removing his own queen and giving Lillian the first move. In the beginning, she'd been dominant. But at the very end, Elliott has used a special move called castling, which let him change the positions of his rook and king in a single turn, defeating her. At the time, she hadn't known about the rule, so in a way, it was only natural she'd lost.
As she failed to understand why Elliott asked about it now, he continued. "You had the right to criticize me, Lady Lillian—to say it wasn't fair."
Suddenly, Lillian had a realization. Lately, Elliott had been acting a little strange; he'd try to say something to her in the student council room, only to hurriedly move away. Was that all because he'd wanted to talk about this?
"Well..." she began, carefully choosing her words. "Someone I know would have probably said this," Lillian recalled her colleague and fellow Sage, the Barrier Mage Louis Miller. She had a fairly good idea of what he'd have to say about the situation. "...You were a fool to accept someone's challenge based only on their own explanation, without even looking up the rules for yourself."
Elliott's jaw dropped. "Who is this person? They sound awful."
"Haha, I agree with them. And when they taught me a card game, they told me the game had started before we even sat down."
The secretary heaved a sigh, then raised his hands as if in surrender. "Okay, okay. Give it a rest. I wasn't trying to trap you by not teaching you casting. I just thought someone new to the game wouldn't understand what it was. And I was being cocky. I figured I'd beat you easily without using it anyway."
"Oh," she said ambiguously.
Elliott made a sour face, then mussed up his own perfectly combed bangs. "That's what you're supposed to be mad about," he insisted. "I looked down on you, then got mad when I started losing and used a move I hadn't taught you in order to steal the win. It wasn't fair. It was a shameful thing for a noble to do."
This troubled Lillian. She was not sure what she should even be angry about. She'd never gotten mad at someone for looking down on her. To be honest, she had more problems with people making too much of her. She couldn't think of a reason to blame Elliott for not telling her about castling, either. It was her own fault for not looking up the rules herself.
"I'm sorry...but I can't think of a reason to be angry." For some reason, that made Elliott's eyes widen in surprise. Confused and wondering if she'd said something strange, Lillian continued. "I only want to be able to play chess, so shall we start?"
He released a long breath, then put his hand on a white pawn. "Then I'm not going to pull any punches. I'll try my best to win."
"I wouldn't ask for anything less."
"Heh, big talk! Just don't start crying when I beat you, little squirrel," said Elliott before moving the piece. He seemed oddly enthusiastic.
....
When Elliott Howard, eldest son of Count Davy, was six, his father had taken him to visit Duke Crockford for the first time. That was when he'd met Felix Arc Castina, the duke's grandson and the second prince of the empire. The same age as Elliott, Felix was a frail boy who had apparently been recuperating away from the castle at his grandfather's house. Elliott's father had brought him here to play with the prince.
But Elliott had hated Felix.
The boy was clumsy and had terrible motor skills. He was so weak he couldn't even lift a training sword properly, and without a servant sitting behind him, he could barely ride a horse. His dancing was awful as well. He was slow to learn, so his grades were low. He was dull and stupid—he couldn't do anything right.
To top it all off, Felix was terribly shy. He couldn't say two words in front of someone else. In fact, the servant boy who was always with him spoke and acted much bolder than the prince. Elliott had sympathized with him; it must have been difficult, having a useless brat for a master.
Felix was just so incompetent. When Elliott thought about the possibility the boy would eventually outrank all of them, it made him helplessly angry. And so, with a mean-spirited nature common to six-year-old boys, Elliott had made fun of the prince and derided him. And every time he did so, Felix would look at him in silence with a knowing look, which made Elliott feel like he had lost a game that he hadn't even realized he was part of.
What a miserable wretch. And yet he was far, far higher in social status than Elliott. And one day, he'd have to lead. Although Felix lagged behind everyone else in most pursuits, he was knowledgable about one thing in particular: astronomy. Despite the subject being a little to no use to royalty, the second prince's eyes would always sparkle when conversations turned to the stars and whenever he had the chance, he'd hide away and read a book about them.
So, one day, Elliott had taken Felix's book while the adult and servants weren't looking and hidden it up in a tree in the gardens where people don't usually come. As expected, Felix asked Elliott for his book to be returned.
"It's up there in the tree," replied Elliott. "It's not that tall, see? You could just go get it."
Felix blanched looking up at the branches. With his awful motor skills, he'd never be able to climb it alone. Elliott, fully aware of this, smirked and teased him even more.
"Aren't you gonna go crying to your servant like you always do? Or ask your powerful grandfather to save you? Go on, tell them you can't do anything..."
However, before Elliott could finish Felix shoved him to the ground. Elliott pushed him away on reflex but strangely, Felix didn't get back up. Elliott cautiously appeached, then saw a arrow stuck to the boy's side. He'd shoved him to defend him against the arrow. A red stain slowly spready across Felix's clothes, centered on that arrow.
Elliott went white, screamed and called for an adult.
"Do you have any idea what you've done!?" demanded Elliott's father, striking his cheek.
Elliott didn't make excuse. He knew his thoughtlessness was to blame for everything. Felix's wound wasn't very deep but the assassin did use a poison arrow. Although the doctor would be able to cure him, he would still need several stitches.
"You've left him with a permanent scar," said Count Davy. "And your own life won't be enough to make up for that crime."
His father was prepared to offer up his own head. But Felix, fresh from receiving treatment, intervened.
"Please wait," he said.
Although his servant boy was supporting him, the prince was standing on his own two feet. Felix's face was pale and slick with sweat. Of course it was--he'd just received sutures.
"Elliott isn't at fault," continued the prince. "I was fooling around by climbing trees in such a remote part of the garden. Elliott tried to stop me and even cushioned my fall with his body when the arrow hit."
That was a huge lie. Elliott had been smirking at Felix. But thanks to Felix covering for him, he had escaped blame--and his father would be able to keep his life.
After that, Elliott had barged into Felix's room. "Why did you cover for me?" he asked. "That accident was my fault. The assassins wouldn't had the chance if I hadn't baited you."
Is he trying to earn a favor from me? wondered Elliott, deeply suspicious.
Felix's eyebrows drooped, and he smiled weakly. "I've seen enough blood to last me a while. Besides, I can't see any reason to blame you for that, Elliott."
He said it like it was the most logical thing in the world. The prince seriously thought it was his own fault for being targetted by assassins.
"...When your wound heals, I'll teach you how to climb trees," muttered Elliott.
Felix's sky blue eyes sparkled. "Really? Thank you. I've always thought I'd be able to see the stars better from the treetops." The prince offered Elliott a smile--one that looked heartfelt and happy.
....
The reason Elliott had suddenly recalled all this was because Lillian had just said the same thing as the boy in his memories. Elliott has asked her why she didn't blame him and she she'd told him she could thing of no reason to, with the same look on her face as that gentle boy.
Ah, everything finally makes sense...So that's why he wants to coddle her so much. Filling that away in a corner of his mind, Elliott moved his white bishop. Lillian wasted no time making her next play.
Just like last time, Lillian was moving her pieces extremely quickly. She never took very long to think. Elliott would move a piece and she'd immediately respond in kind. And then, when Lillian moved her quee, the game came to an end.
Elliott stared at the board and said, "It's a stalemate."
A stalemate, despite him having no handicap and the first move advantage. Against a girl who had played chess only a couple of times. Lillian simply stared at the board, seeming neither pleased nor frustrated. She was probably thinking back on the game they'd just played.
"Chess has a way of bringing out osmeone's personality," Elliott remarked, almost to himself. Lillian looked at him and blinked. Elliott shrugged a little. "Cyril plays a very easy to understamd protect the king kind of chess. He always has a strong defense. You're the opposite."
Although, to be precise, Lillian's play style didn't simply favor offense. If he had to describe it, he would say she was thoroughly logical, never wasting a move.
"You'd probably even use your king as bait if it meant you could win," he continued.
For Lillian, the king was worth as much as a pawn. She could sacrifice any piece she needed to, as long as it increased her chances of winning by even a little bit. She was strong, merciless. If she continued to gain experience and learn how to read and manipulate her opponent...she'd become a monster at the game. The prediction made Elliott shudder.
This girl had profound abilities that even Felix struggled to grasp, but her personality was reserved. The gap between her talents and comportment was almost surreal. As Elliott's dropping eyes continued to watch her, Lillian spoke.
"Lord Howard, your playing style is, well..." she began.
"Oh? A novice wants to talk to me about how I play?"
"You seem really insistent about each piece's role."
Elliott's eyebrows shot up. Mr Boyd had pointed out the very same thing to him in the past. His play style focused far too much on each piece's prescribed role. Queens acted like queens, pawns like pawns...he tended to give the higher-ranking pieces a greater role in his strategy. In a sense, he was the polar opposite of Lillian, who didn't assign any innate value to her pieces.
She pointed to one of Elliott's pawns still on the board. "There was a point in the game where you could have promoted your pawn," she explained. "It was the optimal move, but you didn't take it."
If a pawn reached the other end of the board, the opponent's side, the player could upgrade it to another piece, such as a queen. Elliott had purposely avoided doing so. Privately impressed that she'd noticed, he flashed her a sardonic smile.
"I just hate upstarts," he said.
A soldier who cut his way straight to the deepest part of the enemy's camp could rise in rank. Elliott despised that rule.
"My uncle, for some unfathomable reason, took a commoner as his legal wife," he explained. "He always called her a simple, honest, kind girl. But in the end, she spent all his money. My uncle, feeling betrayed...hung himself."
The first to find his dead, cold body had been Elliott, who had visited his beloved uncle in order to learn more about chess from him. The scene was still burned into his eyes after all this time. Essentially everything of valie in his uncle's estate had been gone by the time Elliott arrived. Upon learning of the man's death, his wife, the former commoner, had taken it all and run, without even stopping to mourn the death of the man she had driven to suicide.
"Do you understand?" he asked. "Commoners must act like commoners and nobles like nobles. Try and cross the barrier of social status and someone will get hurt."
That was why Elliott hated commoners who acted above their station. Such upstarts made his skin crawl. At first, he harbored the same feelings towards Lillian. Not only had she entered Serendia Academy, but she had even become a student council member. He couldn't help but view her as an eyesore...until now, at least. I suppose rare people like her exist, the kind whose incredible talents compel them beyond their station. Elliott hadn't yet determined how to treat someone like her. So he just made a sour face and gave her a warning.
"I'm going to put aside my judgement of you for the time being, Lady Lillian. But there's one thing I need to warn you about." He folded his legs and looked her right in the eye, trying to make sure his next words got through. "Commoners born with rare talents tend to be envied by incompetent or taken advantage of by the knavish. I know people like you whose lives have been ruined by such people."
The words were meant to stir anxiety in Lillian, however, the girl simply nodded in an understanding gesture. Elliott then gave a light shrug of the shoulders in his usual sardonic way and grinned.
"You need to be very careful about how you act. After all, you'll have even more eyes on you in the future."
Lillian seemed not have realized it, but someone had been watching their game from afar this whole time. A tall man with shaved head and rippling muscles, the chess teacher, Professor Boyd. The professor had written something in chalk on the blackboard just now. Elliott glanced over, indicating with his eyes for Lillian to look as well. When she did, she froze.
Chess Competition Representatives:
First Match: Lillian Ade I
Second Match: Benjamin Mording
Third Match: Elliott Howard
Forth Match: Lucas Alcott
Fifth Match: Ricardo Stefano Salvator
Lillian's eyes widened as she asked, "The chess competition?"
"The weekend before the school festival, we invite players from other schools and host a chess tournament. You saw the event in the budget proposals, didn't you?"
"Yes but..."
Professor Boyed walked over to them, feet pounding on the floor. With the presence of a warrior who had seen countless battlefields, he took his large hand, which might easily crush a person's head, and tapped on Lillian's shoulder. He spoke in a low voice, no expression on his face.
"I have high hopes."
Elliott shrugged and told her, "Let's just have fun with it, eh, Lady Lillian?"
Lillian stayed quite smiling even though she wanted to punch someone.