At the first light of dawn, Ethan stood near the inn, inspecting the carriage he had prepared to continue their journey, which had been interrupted earlier.
As his sharp eyes scanned the surroundings for any suspicious movement, he lowered his scarf, exhaled deeply, and rubbed his hands together for warmth. His warm breaths formed vapor like steam from a kettle, only to dissipate into the cold morning air moments later.
Despite wearing black gloves, the cold still numbed his fingertips. Just as he was about to move, footsteps approached. He turned and met a familiar face, bending slightly with a smile in his usual playful manner.
"Good morning, my lady. Was your stay at the inn comfortable?"
Athena sighed, responding as she approached the carriage.
"I see you're still diligent when you decide to be. So why not drop the playful act and act as you really are?"
Ethan straightened, opening the carriage door, a mischievous smile on his face.
"Ahh ♪ I suppose my lady doesn't like me… What am I to do, I wonder? Should I change my ways and pretend to be someone else? Tell me, what kind of man do you fancy? I can become one of them…"
Athena stopped at the carriage door, glancing at him with a look of disgust.
"You know I don't mean my words that way, yet you persist in your nonsense. Should I consider the situation hopeless?"
Ethan chuckled briefly, then smiled, raising a hand to help her aboard.
"My lady is quite feisty, I see… Alright, I understand what you mean, but I enjoy annoying you as much as you despise me, as you can see."
Athena hesitated but took his hand, climbing into the carriage.
"Let's leave that aside. Yesterday, you said you sent a message to my mother. What was her reply? Has she begun to take action?"
Ethan took a few steps, leaning against the carriage door, a serious expression crossing his face. He watched as Gilbert emerged from the inn, carrying his bag, and spoke in a firm tone.
"In the past hours, the matter was assigned to the organization, so the results will be in your hands soon. But allow me to share what I've deduced… Considering the nature of the current mission and your joining with the eldest lady, it's likely the operation is being monitored by Archduke spies within the academy. The three children of the Klein family, supporters of the current Imperial faction, will enter the Archduke's faction locker around the same time. This will undoubtedly raise suspicion, making them more cautious toward you. It would be naive to expect they wouldn't attempt to hinder your entry during the exams, or even manipulate circumstances to eliminate you—this would serve their interests perfectly."
"Yes, that's plausible. But I wonder, how far will these schemes go? Even if we overcome them and reach the academy safely, the real game will begin then," Athena said, her tone tinged with hesitation. Ethan noticed and added with a teasing smile:
"Are you afraid? Don't worry. I'll be your companion even after classes start. You won't die easily while I'm here."
"Who said I'm afraid? Or that I rely on you to keep me alive… I'm merely considering the possibilities we might encounter in the future. If I feared mere threats to life, I wouldn't have chosen this path," she replied, her voice steady, betraying no fear.
Ethan watched her expression silently, unreadable, before moving aside as Gilbert approached, lowering his voice.
"Indeed, the feisty lady who resembles a little beast cannot be a coward…"
He smiled, lifting his gaze to meet Athena's, who returned his look with mild irritation, and continued:
"Your favorite companion has arrived… Shall we depart?"
Meanwhile, Gilbert had finally reached the carriage, delayed by certain matters. Yet it did not hinder their schedule, as the entrance exams were set for the next day, leaving ample time to arrive.
---
Half an hour earlier – Gilbert's room at the inn:
The clock read 5:30 AM, and the sun was still hiding behind the distant mountains, shrouding the room in darkness.
Gilbert awoke at his usual time, despite a late night, and rose wearily from the bed. He lit the lamp on his desk and began preparing for departure.
While repacking his belongings, he noticed the book the Marquise had given him earlier. As he flipped through its pages, a letter slipped out, falling near his feet. He bent to retrieve it, staring at the envelope—specifically, at the words written on it:
"Please do not open until the right time. To understand my meaning, read the book carefully. I hope it pleases you. Take care of yourself."
Those few words stirred an unusual sensation within him. He could have ignored them, yet for some reason, he decided to set the letter aside and follow the writer's instructions.
This was not the first book or message he had received from the Marquise. Such gifts arrived every few years, each book unique and personally inscribed. The care evident in the writer's words always unsettled Gilbert, raising questions in his mind:
"Does the author have any connection to that man? At the end of this performance, will I find my true self, or sink deeper into darkness?"
He had no choice but to be patient and continue his path, yet it was these stories and letters, linking him to someone who understood him, that had kept him going during the past eleven years of identity loss and a hostile, unfamiliar world.
The author loved writing about human emotions and struggles during his travels. Gilbert, carrying a name not truly his own, realized the world was too vast to succumb to despair over matters no more significant than a withered leaf falling from an ancient tree in a dense forest.
"What if I don't know who I am? Whether abandoned or placed in situations beyond my capacity, I can always exert effort to overcome them…"
"Do not burden matters beyond their worth. Keep moving forward."
Those few words repeatedly pushed him onward, no matter the difficulty. Ultimately, one needed hope to survive and to persevere; what harm was there in imagining a future that might not be as grim as it seemed?
Gilbert returned the letter to the book, changed into thicker clothing to combat the cold, and donned a dark formal coat, its chest and sleeves carefully embroidered with silver threads. A deep-blue cloak draped over his shoulders, fastened with a gleaming sapphire at the chest, echoing the color of his eyes. His slender leather belt secured his attire.
He looked like a living royal statue, though pale and barely human in appearance…
He realized it was likely the onset of a fever from last night's dampness, but ignored it and continued.
"If I were to fall from this alone, I wouldn't have survived to this day anyway," he thought as he left his room, handing his keys to the inn staff, walking steadily to catch up with Athena, who had long since departed.