Chapter 301: Objection!

“Tell me something,” I said as Feyt, slightly rising from my seat. “Why did you assume Lady Carine and her maid would take too long to get here?”

The volunteer looked straight into my eyes. His expression remained perfectly calm. His heartbeat, however, was anything but.

“That is simple,” he replied. “I happened to see her leave the arena on the way to the office.”

He’s awfully confident about that, huh?

“I see…” I slowly rose to my feet, pushing the wooden chair back. “However, I have reason to believe that you’re lying.”

One of his eyebrows lifted. “How so?”

I didn’t bother saying another word. Instead, I reached out and opened the door as Carine.

As soon as I set foot inside the room, with Leila right behind me, all breaths froze in the room… except for Feyt’s, of course.

The volunteer’s heartbeat shot up by a few tempos; the official widened his eyes and immediately straightened his back, and the director? I saw her flashing the faintest of smiles for the first time as she leaned forward on her side of the table.

“Sorry if I was late,” I said as Carine. “I came from the spectator stands as soon as I could.”

“From the spectator stands, you say?” Director Aella said in a bubbly tone. “Say, Lady Carine, did you at any point leave the arena recently?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. I have been in the spectator stands with my fellow classmates, watching the tournament. That is, until all this happened.”

The official and director Aella slowly turned toward the volunteer.

His mask cracked. Just for a split second, his left eye twitched violently as he tried to calm down his heart.

“I see, then… I must’ve been mistaken,” he managed, barely holding his calm tone.

“Hmm…” Director Aella hummed.

She was giving the volunteer a rather playful glare as she leaned in even further. It seemed she began to suspect something was up with the whole thing, and somehow found it entertaining.

Though the volunteer appeared calm, I could tell he was losing his grip on the situation.

Well, time to kick the table while it wobbles.

“Leila,” I turned my head to meet my best maid’s eyes. “Please tell them what happened in the prep room.”

“Understood, Lady Carine.”

Leila stepped forward to the front of the table, standing just beside Feyt. Without a word, she reached into the dark folds of her uniform, produced a small, ornately carved wooden container, and set it firmly on the table.

A bead of cold sweat broke out across the volunteer's temple. “Is that…”

“This souvenir contains the water I secured from Sir Feyt’s cup in the eastern preparation room,” Leila stated, her tone flat.

“So the story told by Feyt is true?” the official asked.

“Start from the beginning, if you please,” Aella urged, twirling her hair.

Leila nodded. “Lady Carine was suspicious of a sabotage attempt on Feyt and instructed me to head down to assist Sir Feyt. I was told to procure this container before heading there as soon as I was able.”

She turned towards the volunteer who was sweating bullets.

“When I arrived, the only ones inside were Sir Feyt and the student there. And right beside Sir Feyt was a cup of water he was hesitant to drink. That was when I obstructed the volunteer’s view and transferred the contents of the cup to this container.”

The official rubbed his chin, nodding emphatically. “Her testimony matches what Feyt says. I don’t see any contradictions.”

Wait, why is he suddenly on my side?

The volunteer, however, sounded noticeably more frayed than before.

“Even so… that doesn’t clear him of suspicion,” he blurted out, trying desperately to look and sound calm, his Talent doing overtime.

The official frowned. “What do you mean?”

“They could easily be working together,” the volunteer insisted, his eyes darting between Carine and Feyt. “Who is to say Lady Carine isn't orchestrating a cover-up for him right this second?”

“What?” the official muttered.

“What?” I said as Carine, tone flat.

“What?” Director Aella said, taken aback.

Let’s see what bullshit he’s trying to spew this time.

“Think of it this way. Lady Carine reached first place in the Entrance Exams, didn’t she? Excelling in both written and practical sides of the test. However, who is to say her attendant, her future bodyguard, could keep up?”

What the hell do you mean ‘can’t keep up’? I placed SIXTH as Feyt! The best of all standard track students!

How is that not keeping up?!

“And you all saw Sir Feyt’s performance on the sands yesterday,” the volunteer continued, gesturing passionately. “He struggled immensely just to survive his first round, while Lady Carine effortlessly dominated both of her matches without breaking a sweat.”

That’s because I went up against a maniac named Marina for my first match as Feyt, and against a tryhard fraud as Carine.

“So, I present to you two theories,” he said, lifting his index finger.

“One, Lady Carine pressured him. Terrified that a lacking attendant might tarnish her reputation by falling behind, she demanded results by any means necessary, including using forbidden performance-enhancing stimulants.”

His middle finger rose to join the index, marking a two.

“Or two… Sir Feyt acted out of sheer desperation. Dreading the day Lady Carine might deem him unworthy and discard him, he decided to use whatever means necessary to keep up. And Lady Carine, blind to his deceit or perhaps desperately trying to shield him, stepped in to stage this cover-up.”

He lowered his hand, his chin held high as his [Tempered Front] fought tooth and nail to hold his smug mask together.

“Either way, the presence of the drug cannot be cleanly disputed. The intent to cheat remains a very real possibility.”

Oh wow.

Give this guy an award. He should really reconsider joining the Royal Acting Academy or something.

The official, unfortunately, did not have Feyt’s ears to hear the kid’s heart practically hammering out a rocking beat through his ribs.

He stroked his chin, his brow furrowing as he actually seemed to consider the ridiculous nonsense being fed to him.

“Hmm…” Director Aella leaned her cheek into her palm, a lazy smirk still playing on her lips. She didn't look convinced in the slightest, but she looked like she was having fun for a reason. Her gaze shifted across the table, settling directly on me. “Well now. You heard him, Lady Carine. What do you think of his grand theories?”

They’re all bullshit, that’s what I think.

All of his theories so far had been full of smoke and mirrors, pure speculation stitched together weirdly calmly. It was weirdly coherent, as if he had rehearsed what to say, and on top of that, he delivered them in such an unfazed, polished manner, thanks to that Talent of his, I had no doubt the average listener might actually find his words believable.

It was almost like dealing with that bastard again.

If I let him keep spewing this fanfiction of his, this whole investigation would just become a bundled mess of rumors and scandal. Dragging this out would only hurt my chances of uncovering the truth.

Thus, there was only one way to solve this cleanly.

I had to use both sides of my story.

“What an utterly absurd theory,’ I said as Carine, my chin held high, letting my cold tone slice through the air, just like how Mother did it.

The volunteer flinched ever so slightly as I glared at him.

“Feyt isn’t some mere pawn I am forced to stand with,” I began to explain as Carine. “He is someone precious to me, a dear friend. I care not if he loses or wins a match; all I know is that he is the only person I can fully trust. I demand nothing more from him but his own trust in return.”

With people like you in front of me, who else could I trust besides myself?

Then, I nodded as Feyt and continued my speech through my other self.

“And I’ve never had any reason to doubt where I stand,” I said as Feyt. “I—I mean, Lady Carine's expectations aren't that shallow. I know what she expects of me, and I strive to achieve that expectation every day. I don't need to use tricks just to prove I belong beside her.”

As soon as I finished my short one-two piece… the room fell silent. Even Leila looked at the both of me with slightly widened eyes.

What? Did I say something wrong?

Before I could figure out what was happening, the volunteer’s composure finally gave out entirely.

“B-But—!” he stammered, his Talent no longer able to hide his desperation. “There still isn’t enough proof to see that—”

“That is quite enough,” the official snapped, forcefully finding his voice as he slammed his palm flat against the desk. “You barged in here claiming this student drank from this cup, but we haven’t seen a hair of a symptom on him. That is proof enough for me to give him the win he deserves.”

“B-But!!” the volunteer stammered again, to no avail.

The officer glared down at the volunteer with annoyance, clearly eager to just move on with the tournament.

He stood up from his seat and walked past Feyt and Leila and turned to face Carine directly.

“Lady Carine, I hope you would forgive us for delaying your attendant’s match results. I shall head to the announcer immediately to clear up this misunderstanding!” he said with a warm smile and a small bow before leaving.

Wow, he sure didn’t waste time.

I mean, the officer did say the tournament was postponed for long enough as it was, so that made sense.

But I had a feeling the reason he suddenly switched sides was because of a particular young woman with the title of ducal heir breathing the same air he was breathing.

With the official gone, Director Aella let out a heavy sigh and slumped back into her chair, propping her cheek on her fist once more.

“Well, you heard the man,” she said, casting a mildly annoyed glance toward the volunteer. “Next time you decide to drag me away from my nap, make sure your little bedtime stories have some actual proof behind them. Throwing around wild theories just makes you look silly, kid.”

The volunteer lowered his head, pressing his lips into a tight, thin line. “...Please forgive my overzealousness, Director. I only meant to safeguard the academy’s integrity.”

His voice was polite, but his [Tempered Front] was running on fumes.

This kid… he had definitely known about the forged letter. His slip-up earlier about seeing Carine leave the arena wasn't an honest mistake; it was something he truly believed. The shock I sensed from him the moment I entered the room as Carine, it was unlike any other.

He had been counting on me being somewhere far away, stranded by a decoy, while Feyt got chewed up and disqualified.

I had an inkling of what his true goal was.

It was all about the crowd outside. If I had arrived even five minutes later with Leila and the container, the tournament officials would have pushed the disqualification through simply to keep the schedule moving. And once that announcement echoed over through the announcer, the damage would have been permanent.

It wouldn't have mattered if I overturned it later as Carine. The guests packing those spectator stands weren't just students; they were nobles, visiting merchants, and other capital citizens who came and went as they pleased.

A retraction published tomorrow, or hell, minutes later would never travel fast enough to stop the scandal from spreading outside of the academy.

It would damage both of my names, and by extension, the Sareid family name.

Yet, looking at this volunteer, I still had severe doubts he was the one pulling the strings. The main piece missing was the motive. What did a tournament volunteer have to gain by orchestrating a high-stakes hit against a ducal house?

There had to be someone else behind it all. Someone with a genuine reason to see me fall, both of me.

If I let this volunteer walk out that door right now, whoever was pulling his strings would quietly cut the tie, bury the evidence, and try again when my guard was down. I couldn't let that happen.

Aella yawned, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “Alright, that’s that, then. Everyone get out. I need to get back to my—”

SLAM!

I struck the wooden table hard with Carine’s palm.

“Objection!” I shouted as Carine, pointing a sharp finger straight across the table.

...I have always wanted to do that.