Crack. With a light chink, the teacup on its saucer fractured untouched. A brief lapse in focus caused resonance to leak and it proved too much for the thin porcelain. For a moment, it seemed, I'd wavered. Then, silence. A silence in which you could have heard a pin drop. I’d seen such a lyrical expression written in a book, but never had an accurate idea what kind of situation it described, until now. The silence surrounding me and General Ruthford in the long dining hall that moment was thick and taut.

  If I heard her right, she had just told me, in plain words, to cease all association with my friend and co-disciple. The girl currently standing by our garage across the front yard.

  After spending three months getting to know her and shaping her into a splendid fledgling mage.

  Take the kitten you brought home and throw it back in the wild.

  I briefly contemplated if I should do something dramatic like flip the table. That felt like more effort than it was worth. Maybe I should’ve laughed instead? The situation was absurd enough, the timing so sudden and out of nowhere that it got ludicrous. I couldn’t make up my mind.

  In the ensuing indecisiveness, I blurted out the forbidden question.

  “Why?”

  The General narrowed her eye to the thinnest slant. “What was that?”

  “Am I a war mage now?” I asked. “Or your so-called protege? I don't think I can be both at the same time.”

  “Whatever you are,” she replied icily, “I am a General of Calidea as well as the master of this household. I will not explain my reasons to you. Do as you're told—or face the consequences.”

  “...”

  A razor-sharp blade on my throat, biting into the skin...The sensation made me reflexively want to feel my throat to see if it was actually cut.

  But it was only a feeling. It only felt dangerous. The command lacked spirit. When this woman issued a real order, your body would obey before your mind even grasped what was said. Even at full power, I found her strength of will difficult to withstand up close. But though I was practically an ordinary person with the rings, I didn’t feel any such compulsion.

  That could only mean one thing: Her heart wasn't in it.

  Her innate sense of justice got in the way.

  So she didn't tell me this only out of a personal distaste for Emily?

  My first thought was that they'd uncovered something unsavory in Emily's background, but that didn't seem to be it. Why put on such a show then? If Emily was a dangerous element, why was the order only to avoid contact, instead of direct elimination? That meant nobody wanted a report on it. The reason wasn't anything that could be justified with national security concerns, or be preserved in official records.

  A private matter, but not the General's own. She was only saddled with the ungrateful role of delivery. She wouldn't normally go along with such backroom maneuvering, regardless of who was asking. And yet, not only did she come all this way to do just that, but even set herself up as a willing scapegoat. I was supposed to put the blame on her and not look any deeper for answers.

  Meaning, I couldn't be allowed to know the identity of the one behind the order.

  Why would that be a problem?

  Why bother hiding things from a person, who wasn't even considered a person? I already knew such a long list of dirty secrets, what was one or two more? Unless it wasn't specifically me, who had to be kept in the dark, but everyone. A business so delicate that the mere knowledge that this unknown figure knew Emily Troyard's name was too much to let leak, too portentous.

  If that was the case, arguing about it was only going to make things worse for us.

  If whoever imposed the condition wasn’t pleased by the effect, they could take even more overt action in the future. I'd learned quite a bit already from this stunted exchange. Maybe too much.

  Concluding so, I drew a deep breath to zero out my thought processes, and answered,

  “...Understood.”

  The General regarded me with cautious surprise. At the same time, her cyclopean gaze took on a subtly melancholic gleam. As if she were secretly disappointed.

  “That’s all…?”

  What, did she want me to throw a tantrum? What a difficult woman.

  “Troyard and I are in different classes,” I told her. “We rarely see each other over the weeks. Avoiding contact isn't difficult. Long-distance relations are hard to maintain. She's an ordinary girl of many interests, worlds apart from someone like me. It's inevitable that we drift apart, even without any special effort. There’s no problem.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “I see...”

  “Then, was there anything else?”

  I got a feeling she had much more on her mind. But in the end, thinking better of it, the General said only,

  “No. That’ll be all for now. Good work.”

  “I trust you will let me know if there are other developments.”

  “Um…”

  I stood, bowed, turned around, and walked out without looking back.

  It was childish to take it out on her, but even if I could see the reasoning behind this move—I was still angry.

  Charlotte waited for me outside the dining hall. She escorted me the way we'd come back to the shadowy entrance hall, without speaking or asking questions, as if she already knew the contents of our conversation and its conclusion. Only when the front door was right in front of us and nobody else within earshot did she quietly speak,

  “Ms Hope. A personal bank account has been opened for you. The initial deposit is three million crowns. These funds are for your personal use, as you see fit. The academy tuition is paid separately from the General's account, so you won't need to worry about that. Here is your bank card and the related documents. Please take good care of them.”

  She passed me a narrow envelope and a brand-new wallet. The wallet housed a small, black card, and altogether 5000 crowns in bills of different sizes.

  I frowned at the maid. What was this now? A bribe? She picked up the pace and went ahead to open the front door. As I passed through the gap into the flood of daylight, she bowed and spoke again, her voice lowered to barely above whisper,

  “We received word from the Austin family earlier. It seems they sent their gardener to trim bushes at the wrong address. There was no harm done, so it was agreed to let the matter be.”

  I froze mid-step.

  No way. You've got to be kidding me.

  Charlotte kept her face down, expression serene. Her silence quietly pleaded me to go on and not ask anything. Even the walls could have ears.

  “Take care of the house,” I mumbled, stuffed the wallet and the envelope into my coat pocket.

  I passed down the wide, white stone stairs spreading before the entrance, blindingly bright under the noon sun. Dazed and numb, I followed the long sand road across the wilted green yard, back to the garage. How vast was that yard and how small the walker and how high the clear sky above.

  Now it all made sense. The General's mystery act. The order. The money. The intruder. So it wasn't only a deranged theory I had. The assassin that day really was here for Emily. For our coincidental summer guest. For the mere impoverished daughter of a fallen noble house.

  But if not a foreign enemy, then who in this Kingdom would dare target a visitor in the house of RA’s supreme commander? Of course, there could only be one domestic faction with enough brass for that. I should've guessed it sooner. Such high-profile break-ins didn’t happen accidentally, nor at random.

  In intelligence circles, “the Austin family” was a codename for the Royal House of Calidea. There was someone up there in that flashy castle on its rocky hill northwest, who wanted Emily's name erased from the pages of history, quietly, as if it never existed. And anyone who dared to ask “Why?” was bound to follow along.

  She was supposed to be disqualified before the entrance exam. When that didn't work out, they tried to take her out before she could move to the academy dorms, where it was difficult for even first-rate assassins to get to her unnoticed. But Ms Asia and I messed up their plans on that day of August by inviting Emily to the safest residence in Canelon. Desperate, they sent a blade anyway, and it ended predictably. To prevent the same thing from happening again, they could only contact me through the General and tell me to stop protecting Emily.

  Which meant they had every intention to try again.

  As many times as it would take to succeed.

  Damn, did we pick up the wrong girl off the side of the freeway.

  The walk path brought me back to where I'd started, with Emily practically on the same footholds where I'd left her. Faithfully waiting.

  “Well, you sure didn't take very long,” she told me with a troubled frown. “You could've humored your mom a little more, don’t you think? She's given you a lot in life, hasn't she?”

  “...”

  A good point.

  The General had given me much. More than anyone could understand.

  For that, I would never question any order of hers, no matter how unreasonable, or unfair.

  I stopped in front of Emily and looked the girl in the eye. Those comically big, mirror-clear marble eyes. They were the eyes of a fool, revealing at a glance everything that went through their owner’s head. Eyes a-glitter with child-like trust and faith in tomorrow. Belief that despite all the dark things that happened in it, the world was fundamentally a good place, where good deeds were appropriately rewarded and anything was possible if only you tried hard enough. And I'd done my fair share adding to that completely baseless, deceptive belief.

  Because of that, the gaze aimed at me now was unclouded by the slightest suspicion or shadow of dread.

  It would've been so simple to end it.

  Our collaboration is through, disappear—nothing more.

  The General and I would be spared from any further trouble with the royalty, and peace in the Kingdom would be maintained. Would it hurt Emily? Probably not so much. It’s not like we were lovers. We’d only known each other for a few months. She’d be upset for a couple of days, if even that, and then carry on with her life. A girl so dazzling could make friends anywhere. It was least painful if done right now. It might not be so feasible anymore a year from now, or a month, or even a week. And then what? Would I be reading her obituary before graduation?

  “Boss?” Emily leaned closer to me and tilted her head. “Everything okay? You sure you're not sick?”

  “...Did you wash your face this morning?”

  I rubbed the girl's chin with my sleeve.

  “Whaat? Do I got dirt on me?”

  “It’s nothing. Let's go.”

  I went past her and headed on towards the gate.

  “Huh? Hey, hold on! What's going on?”

  “I got my allowance today. I'll treat you to lunch.”

  “Really? Aw, sweet! Hey, can I pick where we eat? I know a real good place!”

  I said I understood the order. Not that I had any intention to obey. Since it wasn't the General's personal wish, I could freely disregard it. The Royal House with their kings and queens and princes and princesses—what did any of that mean to a common mage student? If they had a problem, they could come tell me in person. But nobody else can have my disciple.