#108. Gathering All Kinds of Information
Heormitch.
Someone I could approach right now, though we weren’t exactly close. I’d never checked whether she had any ties to the Kingdom or not.
Despite the mess I’d managed to clean up in the capital, she was one of those who seemed to think that even if she messed with me, nothing bad would come of it.
“Maybe worth probing once…”
Of course, there was no certainty. In fact, the odds that Lady Heormitch actually knew anything useful about the Kingdom were slim.
But the important thing was this: she was someone I could reach out to right now.
Until the semester ended, I couldn’t move freely outside anyway. That meant no chance of finding fresh connections.
So wasn’t it better to test every Academy student with even the slightest possibility, rather than do nothing?
Even if Lady Heormitch didn’t know much about the Kingdom, she seemed well-informed about the Academy’s students.
She might even help me track down someone within the Academy who had ties to Lamore Kingdom.
“There’s nothing to lose.”
I stopped my restless fingers.
The fact that I had something concrete to do was encouraging.
I decided I should approach Heormitch as soon as tomorrow.
‘Therefore, I would be delighted if you could visit my room for a pleasant chat.’
Medrett clutched the note tightly, nervous. The note had appeared in her locker today.
The sender was Blanche Roa Vandalouin—the very Blanche who had crushed her pride not long ago.
“What on earth is she plotting?”
Alice and Chesia, who were seated on either side of Medrett, shivered as they read the note with her.
“And she wants you to come alone…”
Alongside a couple of flowery pleasantries, the note’s message was simple: please come by yourself.
Now, that was a fairly common request when someone wanted a private conversation.
But since all three of them had once ganged up on Blanche only to suffer humiliating defeat, their minds kept drifting toward ominous interpretations.
“How did she even open your locker in the first place?”
That was another mystery.
The Academy was safe enough that locks weren’t particularly sturdy.
If you wanted to break one, it wasn’t difficult.
In fact, Medrett’s group had once broken Blanche’s locker lock themselves.
They’d found it empty at the time, so all that effort had been wasted.
But the frightening part now wasn’t that Blanche had opened Medrett’s locker.
It was that when Medrett checked, the lock had been intact—locked shut.
And of course, once a lock was broken, you couldn’t just lock it again.
So how had Blanche managed to open it, slip the note inside, and lock it back up?
The more they thought about it, the more unsettling it seemed. And Blanche hadn’t even written a reason in the note—just a simple request for a private talk in her dorm room.
“What will you do?”
“…I have to go. I can’t just ignore it.”
Medrett bit her lip.
Ever since she’d been dealt that heavy blow by Blanche—after arrogantly underestimating her—she’d lost much of her nerve.
She still couldn’t understand how a light slap had left her knees and the inside of her mouth injured. And now there was this note, waiting in a locked locker.
Whatever Blanche was plotting, Medrett no longer had confidence she could win. That was her honest assessment.
“Are you sure? You don’t need us to come with you?”
Alice and Chesia weren’t as shaken as Medrett, who had physically struck Blanche before, but they were scared all the same.
After all, Blanche hadn’t just retaliated against Medrett alone—she’d beaten all three of them.
And all three of them had heard the Archduke’s warning together, too.
Of course they were afraid. Their willingness to offer support made Medrett’s eyes sting with tears.
Such touching friendship. She swore to cherish it forever.
But she still shook her head.
“No… she said to come alone. If all three of us go, who knows what she’ll say. …I’ll go by myself.”
Whatever Blanche was after, maybe if she complied obediently, things would settle quietly.
Unaware that she was already steeped in a sense of defeat, Medrett began preparing to visit Blanche’s room.
She didn’t dare risk arriving late and being scolded again.
At exactly five minutes to eight, a knock sounded at the door.
I swiveled my chair halfway and greeted the visitor.
“Come in.”
Heormitch cautiously opened the door and peeked in, watching my expression.
“Th-there was a note in my locker…”
Compared to before, her tone had grown markedly polite. Pleased by the change, I answered kindly.
“Yes, I sent it. Thank you for coming on time despite the short notice.”
“Uh… you’re… speaking formally to me?”
Her eyes went wide. I’d used formal speech even when she apologized before—why ask now?
I was bemused, but not irritated enough to snap.
“Well, back then you addressed me rudely, so I responded in kind. But now that you’ve learned to show proper respect, I’ll return the courtesy.”
The implication was clear: my attitude would mirror hers. Act arrogant again, and I’d drop the politeness immediately.
Whether she understood that or not, Heormitch fidgeted nervously before asking,
“So… why did you call me here?”
I gestured toward the empty chair I’d prepared.
“Have a seat.”
She clearly wanted to stay near the door, but reluctantly moved to the chair I indicated.
“…So why am I here?”
Her repeated question carried urgency, but that was understandable.
I hadn’t invited her here for idle chatter anyway. So I went straight to the point she was waiting for.
“Very well. Let me be direct: does your family have any ties to the Kingdom of Lamore?”
“…What?”
Her eyes widened, more than when she’d seen blood on my knees. She clearly hadn’t expected that question.
“Wh-why do you suddenly ask that?”
“You judged that you could bully me without consequence, didn’t you?”
“About that matter…”
“No, I’m not asking for another apology. Let’s set that aside.”
I cut off her excuse with a wave of my hand.
“For two whole years at the Academy, you deliberately picked on only those who wouldn’t cause trouble afterward. That’s why nothing’s ever come of it.”
Her face tensed with discomfort. Strange—I’d merely stated the facts.
“But when you set your sights on me, the only consideration you made was whether the Archduke would react. Never mind that I’m still a princess of a kingdom. So naturally, I wondered what conclusion you had reached.”
To show I wasn’t trying to trap her, I spread my hands openly.
Heormitch hesitated, biting her lip.
But when I kept watching silently, her hesitation melted.
“…‘Knowledge is power.’ That’s our family motto.”
“A fine motto.”
I meant it sincerely, not sarcastically. Know yourself and know your enemy, and you need not fear a hundred battles.
Information was never a waste. But Heormitch’s expression remained grim.
“So… our family devotes itself to gathering every kind of information.”
In other words, they kept tabs on the Kingdom as well.
When she’d judged that bullying me carried no risk, it was because she’d had information suggesting the Kingdom wouldn’t care.
Whether that meant the Kingdom truly had no interest in me, or that its diplomatic standing was so weak it clung only to the Archduke’s favor, I couldn’t be sure.
But why dance around the point like this instead of just saying so? I thought about it for a moment, then concluded.
“Does that mean your family is connected to an information guild?”
I’d nearly asked if they actually ran one, but caught myself.
In the Empire, nobles were considered less dignified if they openly engaged in business.
The Jin Empire shared that view too, so it wasn’t surprising.
But there was a difference: in the Jin Empire, great houses truly lived off land income alone, avoiding trade.
In contrast, in the Retile Empire, most houses actually did have commercial ventures, though they downplayed them.
So they wouldn’t say, “we run a guild,” but rather, “we have connections with it.”
Just like how the Ducal House of Martina “had close ties” with the Julien Trading Company it actually owned.
Which meant: the Heormitch County did indeed operate an information guild, and as the heir, Heormitch had access to its intelligence.
“Well… you could put it that way.”
She fiddled with her skirts, looking prim.
Far better than I’d expected—what a jackpot.
I pressed my lips tight, careful not to let a triumphant smile show.
