The Young Lady is a Reborn Assassin [Original, Reincarnation]

[cosoco]

Really enjoying this one so far.

 

[DWS]

"He wants another study session?"

"That's right. Claudius came to me a few hours ago and asked me to forward that message to you. I think he's a little shy about asking you in person. I can even get a private room booked for you if you'd like."

It was with those words that I was bound by an unspoken contract. Professor Prier did his best to appeal to my generous side and asked me to assist Claudius in catching up once again. He did note that his grades had improved significantly since our last meeting, so he wanted me to rub some of my work ethic off onto him once again. I agreed only to keep him out of my hair. I was given a time and place and left the classroom for my next lesson. I didn't think much of it until the time came to fulfil my end of the bargain.

I was very assured that nothing strange was going on until I entered the wing of the building that Prier had specified. It wasn't the main, H-shaped building in the centre of the grounds, but one of the outlying buildings that were reserved for various other purposes. This particular building was once used as accommodation for the teachers, but that practice had fallen out of fashion in recent years and most preferred to commute from the nearby villages instead.

The moment I stepped through the front door, I realised that I was the only person inside. Each step echoed outwards into an empty atrium. Everyone else was busy with their own studies or societies at this time of day. The unused rooms in the building could be booked by the students, though I saw little reason to do so when the dorm library was already well-stocked with everything you could need.

I could feel the hair standing up on the back of my neck. This had all the makings of a trap. My instincts rarely turned out to be wrong, and there was no harm in being cautious. I made sure that nobody was following me or stalking the long, carpeted halls before heading up the stairs and to the room that Trevor claimed we could use. The door was already unlocked when I twisted the handle. My hair stood on end as it gave way under my grip. Something wasn't right here, more so than normal.

Why was I being asked to visit this room specifically? One located in a building devoid of other people, in a place where nobody would see or hear us. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book. I pushed the door open and stepped back without heading through. There was no sign of Claudius sitting at the table in the centre, which meant that...

"Rargh!"

There was no time to worry about what it meant - as some moron in a black mask leapt from behind the door and swung at me with a knife. I ducked the wild slash and rolled through, ending up exactly where I didn't want to be. He turned on his heel and pursued me inside with the weapon held aloft. His build was large, that of an adult man, and the way he held the knife made it obvious that this wasn't his first rodeo. The culprit behind the shooting had shown himself at last.

He came at me again. I stepped back out of his range, which forced him to change strategies; taking the dagger in both hands and running at me to pull me into a short-range skirmish. There was no way for me to win that fight as things were. My back bumped into the rim of the table as he closed in. I flipped over it and landed on my feet. My attacker could do nothing as I kicked the edge and forced it into him. He fell back onto the floor but retained his grip on the weapon.

I knew better than to fight unarmed against someone using a knife. All they needed to do was charge at me and get a good angle to perforate one of my organs or cut a vital artery. Now that he was stunned, I rushed back through the door and into the hallway. I cursed myself for wearing the black loafers that came with my uniform – they were not made for running! There was only one person who could have set this up, but their motivations were a complete mystery to me.

My first priority was survival. As I passed one of the windows I took the opportunity to tear a piece of the curtain away and twist it into a fairly strong piece of rope. It wouldn't block the sharp end of a knife, but I wasn't going to use it for that. I stepped into another open room and slammed the door shut behind me. I could hear his footsteps moving around the space as he tried to find me. If he had done his due diligence before attacking me, he would have noted that the floors were very loud. People never planned for contingencies like this. He believed that he could surprise me, stab me, and hide my body without anyone finding out.

It was a damn shame that he picked a fight with me.

As soon as I heard him pass my doorway, I opened it again and leapt onto his back. His arms flailed as he tried to wrestle me off, but soon the bite of my makeshift garrotte was pulling back on his neck and constricting his airway. He wheezed as panic started to set in. The human mind was not capable of fully rational decision-making when it was being put under time pressure like this. In this case, he still had his wits about him. He gave up on trying to slash me with his knife and backed me up into the wall. I was forced to release his neck and guard my face as he attempted to bludgeon me with his elbow.

The bone in my forearm wailed in protest as he placed it under extreme duress. Body parts could be exchanged in a fight for progress. Once I saw my window, I reached around and scratched at his eyes with my nails. It was a dirty trick – but anything goes when your life's on the line. Tired of my fun and games, he grabbed the side of my shirt and flung me away onto the floor, tearing away some of the fabric as I went.

"You bitch! I knew you were gonna' be a problem!"

He rubbed the red mark that I had left on his neck and tried to catch a breath before I fled again. All of these decisions were being made on the fly within milliseconds of the situation changing. I reached down to my thigh to try and draw my gun – but I discovered that the tightness of my skirt was too much to give me a good angle so that I could unlatch it. There was no time to pull the buttons free and loosen it. All that work to buy a holster for my gun and I didn't even have the chance to use it. I knew I was forgetting something. I didn't test the damn thing before getting jumped!

With that plan scrapped, I moved on and tried to unsettle him. I jumped up onto my feet and goaded him on, "Not very tough for such a large gentleman."

Whatever he was expecting when he pieced together this plan, me taking the fight back to him was definitely not included. I grabbed my curtain whip from the floor and unravelled it to give me some slack. He was furious, charging at me like an angry bull who was seeing red. I stepped aside and dodged his thrust, wrapping the underside of the curtain around his wrist and kicking his knee out from under him. I whipped his captive arm to the side and slammed it into the wall. The knife finally flew from between his fingers as I repeated the process three more times. I placed my foot against the knife and kicked it along the ground, sending it spiralling down the polished floor and out of range.

This was not how I was used to fighting. His size and strength advantage was significant, and there was only so much leverage I could squeeze out of my own body. Now that the knife was no longer in play, the would-be killer decided to abandon his initial plan and do things the old-fashioned way. He cracked his neck and his knuckles, ready to beat down a thirteen-year-old girl in a brawl. I'm sure it made him feel like a big man.

My body wasn't strong enough to leave any lasting damage without a weapon. I could bruise him, and maybe leave a cut using my knuckles, but I did not expect any more than that. I did the smart thing instead and turned around. He gave chase as I ran towards the knife that I had just idiotically discarded out of instinct. I was still a faster runner. I slid to a halt and grabbed it, but when I turned back he was already gone.

"Crap!"

He had slipped down the corridor that split off at the intersection. I stayed on the left and peered around but there was no sign of him. He'd thought better of trying to get the knife back and ran away. I pocketed the knife and sighed. He'd ripped a hole clean through the abdominal area of my shirt. It was a learning experience I would not soon forget. The skirt was an element that I hadn't even considered before; it had prevented me from shooting him dead and ending the issue then and there.

If he believed that he had gotten away without showing his hand, he had another thing coming. I had sussed him out. I knew his tricks and ways, and I had a very good idea of who the man behind the mask really was. Hard evidence would confirm my thinking, and now that I had a prime suspect the hiding place for the gun had come into sharp focus. He may just have buried it somewhere after all, but not in the gardens. My own trap would have to wait. Cleaning up the mess I had caused came first.

The curtain and torn cloth were neatly tucked into my pocket for later disposal, and I did a fast run-through of the fight to make sure that no evidence had been left of my presence. A few strands of my hair had somehow gotten entangled in places. Genetic matching wasn't a concern, but it was characteristic of me as Maria – and any hints as to what had really happened here were unwanted.

Once the sweep was done I headed back down the stairs and into the yard. Dodging the students who were out and about on the grounds was difficult, but I somehow made my way to the dorm room without anyone stopping me or asking questions. The fabric pieces were shoved into the bottom of my suitcase's gun compartment so that I could burn them later. I could make an excuse for the torn shirt if someone were to see it. The teachers would write it off as some light mischief or vandalism from a problem student if they ever noticed the damage at all.

I sat down on the bed and took a moment to think over what had just happened. Even an assassin as experienced as me would get rattled by a surprise attack. It was the same with every job I took. Adrenaline would flood my body and make my heart pound in my ears. I could only calm down after everything was done. I'd sit in my house and take an hour to digest the events that had just occurred.

I knew who it was.

All of the pieces had fallen into place. Now I just needed to come up with a plan of my own to be rid of them. They'd be scrambling to patch the leak they'd caused by shooting at Felipe and me. The real unknown factor was whether the killer understood that I had deduced who they were. It would determine their next course of action, but ultimately, they rested at the same branching-off point. They would return to their hideout and recover the weapon; that single piece of hard evidence was all I needed.

Tomorrow I would launch my counterattack.

 

[Dradel]

Grown man ambushes a 13 year old girl and is forced to flee, more at twelve.

 

[StrawberrySunshine]

I wonder what happened with Cladius? Did he see the fight? Was he ambushed?

 

[Hopellopo]

So why is Professor Prier trying to kill her? Do we know and I've forgotten since the last update, or are we waiting to find out still?

 

[StrawberrySunshine]

So why is Professor Prier trying to kill her? Do we know and I've forgotten since the last update, or are we waiting to find out still?

Click to shrink...

We don't know. We're not completely sure it's him either.

 

[DWS]

Trevor Prier.

According to some of the other, older students at the school – he had only joined the faculty in the past year. He put on a convincing persona as a harmless and somewhat eccentric biology Professor. His qualifications were the real deal, but everything else about him stunk to high heaven. He was the man who I believed had fired on us after our magic lesson. He would have access to the clocktower, and our schedules, and now he had even arranged for me to walk into an ambush. I kept my eye out for him the next day but he was nowhere to be seen.

Professor Prier could often be seen heading into the greenhouse to tend to the exotic plants that lived inside. Given that he was trying to eliminate me and potentially Felipe too, it wasn't hard to make a judgement on where he would go next. If he was trying to hide the gun that he had used, the greenhouse would be the first place to look. I waited until a specific time to make my move. Once the corridors were clear and nobody sought to spend some time in the gardens, I grabbed my gun and some gloves and headed down to investigate.

The greenhouse was big enough to be a real house; they liked to do everything bigger at the royal academy. The front door was held shut from the inside by a latch that was incredibly easy to jostle open using a piece of thin metal. The interior space was dominated by four rows of planters. The foliage was so dense that it was impossible to see from front to back, or from side to side. There was a strong floral scent in the air thanks to the variety of foreign plants on display.

Since the greenhouse was only used for botany studies at a higher level, people rarely entered it, never mind inspecting the disturbances on the ground for discrepancies. I couldn't cast suspicion on every patch of loose dirt in the greenhouse but if he had buried it somewhere shallow, there was an easier way for me to check before digging. I grabbed a trowel from one of the workbenches and got down into a kneeling position. I lifted my arm into the air and started to rapidly stab the ground beneath the wooden frames with some serious force. He had to be keeping the gun in some kind of container. I was halfway around the room when finally...

Thunk.

I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face as the trowel stopped dead with a loud, wooden clatter. I turned the trowel sideways and excavated the dirt on the top layer, revealing a crate that had been hidden in the flowerbed. I cleared away the mess and tugged on the rope handle, only noticing that there was a metal padlock when I was stopped dead in my tracks. I used the sharp end of the trowel and beat it to all hell, shattering it to pieces and allowing me entry.

Inside was exactly what I was looking for. A dirty, but usable rifle of the type that I had seen in the store catalogue. It had been heavily modified with a shortened barrel and new iron sights, which made it difficult to tell which one it was at first glance. It didn't matter. I knew that this was the gun that had been used to shoot at me last week. Trevor Prier was certain to be the man I was looking for, and presumably the one who attacked me with a knife the day before.

I heard the door rattle as someone tried to enter.

I quickly took the rifle and some of the ammunition and hid in the back corner, just close enough to hear what they were doing when they approached. Their footsteps were loud thanks to the tiled floor that ran down each side. When they noticed the unearthed box, there was a gasp of shock. They were distracted, so I loaded a round into the chamber and made my presence known.

"Mister Prier. I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

He turned on me and held out his hands, "M-Maria? What are you doing with that thing?"

My eyes narrowed as he continued to play the fool, "I just decided to come and inspect these lovely flowers you've been growing. But for some strange reason, there was a box with this hiding inside of it. I wonder how it got there."

"Please point it somewhere else! What on Earth are you thinking, young lady?"

"I'm thinking... that you're the one who shot at me and Felipe a week ago, and the one who decided to try and stab me yesterday." I nodded towards him as I noticed the high collar and ascot he was using to cover his neck, "Trying to cover up the marks I left by choking you?"

"What are you talking about?" he scowled.

"Take it off, now."

At gunpoint and under duress, there was nothing he could do but follow my order and remove the rag. As I expected – his skin was marred by a harsh red line where I had pulled on his neck during our fight. Prier knew that the game was up now. I had figured out his identity and found evidence of the original crime.

His accent changed as he dropped his act, "What are you gonna' do about it? Turn me in?"

"I was thinking that I could just kill you."

"You don't have the guts to do something like that."

"Really? I almost had you yesterday. There's no way that I'm going to back down now. You're going to pay for trying to kill me, you're too dangerous to be left alive."

His face twisted as his anger came to the surface, "You bitch! Don't you dare point that gun at me! There's no way, how did you figure it out?"

"It was pretty damn simple actually. You knew our schedules and had a key to get access to the clocktower, which meant you had to be a member of staff. When I was wandering the campus alone you were following me, but you decided to make a play for my trust instead of pulling the trigger because Samantha was there watching on the steps. And we can't ignore the fact that this is the gun that you used to shoot at us – using this exact bullet."

I pulled the empty shell casing from my pocket and threw it at his feet.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Me? There's a very simple answer to that. I'm Maria Walston-Carter, of course."

We stared each other down as he tried to think of a way out of this situation. I was not waiting for his benefit. I had arrived at the greenhouse at this exact time for a very specific reason. Prier was so disturbed by me discovering his identity that he didn't realise it himself; even though it was a trick that he had used to try and kill me before.

"Why did you try to kill me?" I asked.

"You've got a bloody screw loose if you think I'm telling you anything. I spill all the details to you, and you pull the trigger anyway. What do I get out of it?"

"Maybe I'll let you go," I joked. He didn't find it half as amusing as I did. His shoulders tensed as I broke out into an involuntary burst of high-pitched laughter using Maria's characteristic up-and-down 'Ohoho.'

"Like I said, a little girl like you doesn't have the sack to kill a man. Stop pretending that you're willing to get those pampered little fingers dirty." I remained silent and allowed the seconds to keep counting down. He was nervous; I could tell that he wasn't expecting anyone to get the better of him. I was more than willing to kill if it was necessary to protect myself and others. What's more, I had taken precautions to make sure that nobody would find out that it was me.

Bong!

The metal frame and thin glass rattled as the explosive bell chime vibrated the campus. Prier's face turned to a pure expression of primordial terror as he finally figured out what my angle was. I had not anticipated him making an appearance so soon. This was nothing more than a stroke of chance. The heat was too much and he was planning to remove all of the evidence that led back to him. His botched ambush had thrown his plans into total disarray.

"H-Hey, let's not be too hasty here!"

Bong!

I pulled the trigger at that moment. I wasn't aiming for a kill shot just yet. The recoil pushed me back as the cartridge ripped through his left shin and left a splatter of blood against the tiles below. He screamed in pain and fell down onto his hands and knees. He tried to push himself away, but he stopped when he saw me loading another shell.

"You have five chimes left to tell me everything."

"I-I can't!"

Bong!

"Four."

Prier now understood perfectly well. As he stared into my eyes he did not see the soul of a young child or a pampered noble lady who was coasting her way through life. It was explicit. I was a killer. That previous threat to end his life was not a bluff, I had lured him here for that exact purpose and timed it to cover up my crime. The speed at which I moved during his first attempt, and the way I fought back in the second, they were not flukes. His assessment of the threat I posed had rested solely on me knowing too much. It was too late to correct that mistake now.

"You can't even do anything! What the hell do you wanna' know about this for?"

I was getting impatient with his stalling, "Spill it before I spill your brains on the floor!"

Bong!

"Three."

His unscrupulous nature won out over any sense of loyalty or duty to his client. Firer spoke so quickly and with such urgency that it was almost too fast for me to comprehend. "W-We got paid to kill Felipe Escobarus, okay? Some big shot was pissed off that he got engaged to Beatrice Booker! He wanted to arrange a business agreement with her family, but Felipe got in the way before they could seal the deal!"

Bong!

Two. I continued to train the gun on him. There was no time to reckon with his words, "So why did you try to kill me?"

He clutched his bleeding leg and shook his head frantically, "You were there when I took the first shot. You knew too much! When your friend came and asked for a study session I decided to get rid of you before things got too problematic. That's all I'm gonna' say."

My paranoia was well placed but for the wrong reasons. It seemed that Felipe was the one who was in imminent danger of being assassinated. Without the name or identity of the person who was trying to kill him, the attempts would surely continue until they succeeded. I had foolishly never even considered the possibility. It was a personal failing that I had to admit to. I thought so little of the people around me that I thought everything revolved around the way that I behaved. Clearly, that was not the case. Had my proximity to Felipe and his sister kickstarted this entire thing?

"You're going to let me go, right? You're not gonna' kill me..."

Bong!

I sighed, "I have to say. This was a situation of your own making, was it not? To take such an immense risk, and then to do it again. The only person to blame for this is yourself."

He shook his head so frantically that he could have snapped it by himself. There was no more debate or argument to be had. He had told me everything he was willing to share and there was only one chime left on the clock. This meeting was adjourned. For the last time 'Prier' tried to make a run for the door, but he was only left hobbling and limping on the ground as the blood loss robbed him of his balance.

Bong!

I pulled the trigger again and fired the second shot through his chest. He cried out again and fell to the ground face-first with a smoking hole in the back of his jacket. I unloaded the shell and allowed it to fall to the floor. There it was; the first in a long line of dead men that would be sure to come in time. I had no time to consider the consequences now. I dropped the gun to the floor and took a moment to survey the scene. There was no hiding this one. His body was too large for me to move without being seen from the building's windows.

When in doubt, just leave it alone.

I didn't need to pepper the crime scene with any more evidence. It was the entire reason why I had brought the gloves to conceal my fingerprints. I stepped over his corpse and headed for the exit. I took one last glance to make sure that he was really dead before I closed it and locked the door behind me using his key. Some poor teacher was going to be traumatised when they found him, but it was better than letting him kill Felipe just for the sake of some business merger. The key was tossed up and onto the roof just to frustrate them further. I slipped my gloves into my pockets and headed back to the main building.

There were a lot of things to consider now. Felipe had already been marked for death by someone – and that meant that keeping my distance from him wasn't going to be very effective. I needed to keep an eye on him for the time being just to make sure that he wasn't in any danger. I could not predict how the school would react when they found Prier's body, but the investigation may lead them to details about his real profession. Would they be willing to cover up a murder on campus as they had with the original attempt on Felipe's life? As I returned to the inhabited area of the school, a variety of different voices washed over me. They were blissfully unaware of the fact that a killer walked amongst them.

I had crossed the line yet again. It was a cold comfort that this time was more noble than the first in both form and purpose.

Spoiler: AN

I fell off the wagon on updating this here, apologies. I'm going to try and keep up, but now we have a huge backlog of chapters to work through. I'll post one or two a day until we're caught up.

Spoiler: Shameless Shill Compartment

If you love the story and would like to give me a hand, you can buy it on Amazon (and other sites.) It contains all of volume 1, edited and polished to a mirror sheen. You can also grab the e-reader file from my Patreon page if you prefer.

 

[cosoco]

I really like the standoff in this chapter. It did leave me wondering: was killing Prier the right move? Seems like she could've turned him in, and the authorities might have been able to extract more information from him. Plus, even though she knows that Felipe is in danger, how does she tell him without implicating herself?

 

[DWS]

"Shot dead with his own weapon!"

Erwin Tees was incandescent with simmering rage. Prier's attempts to track down and kill Felipe Escobarus had run into difficulties, but to lose his life in the process was beyond his most pessimistic expectations. It was all over the newspapers – the scandalous story of a teacher shot and killed on campus with nobody being able to find the culprit. Erwin was the only one who knew the truth. Prier was his man on the ground, he'd been receiving updates from him for weeks about his progress, and now everything had gone to waste. He tore the paper in two and threw it into the air as the rest of the gang looked on wearily.

He took a deep breath and tried to collect himself; "Listen you miserable lot, there's a lot of money at stake here. If you think I'm mad, then you should see what the client looks like right now. We're back to square one!" Erwin had been stuck in this cycle for hours. He bounded rapidly between uncontrollable anger and helplessly emphasising just how screwed they were. A small part of him hoped that someone from amongst their number would step up to the plate and remedy the problem for him. No such salvation was forthcoming.

"Let me take care of it, boss." Eidos Bolte stepped through the throng and submitted himself, "I don't know much about what the job is, but if there's a lot of money on the table – I'll get it done one way or another."

Erwin nodded, "Fine. At least one of you has a bloody spine!" He led Eidos through the door and into his office, where a spattering of letters and reports covered the desk. Erwin picked out a select few and handed them to his new agent. "These should get you up to speed. I don't know how he ended up dead – but Prier had already told me that he was concerned about one girl in particular."

"A girl?" Eidos scoffed.

"Yeah, a girl. I don't know what you look so bemused for. When you've got a gun in hand, your age doesn't matter much."

Eidos chuckled, "I get it, boss. I killed my first man when I was ten after all."

"A lot of us did. This girl here, Maria Walston-Carter. He said that she witnessed him trying to shoot Felipe Escobarus and got him out of danger. Wouldn't mean much if she wasn't so damn fast and cool under pressure. He said she was like a pro."

Eidos studied her file carefully, one pilfered from the archives by Prier before his untimely death. Prier was even more pathetic than he thought if he was killed off by a pretty little thing like her. She'd get blown away by a strong gust of wind, never mind the recoil of Prier's favourite rifle. He unclipped the small profile picture and put it into his pocket for later.

"Now that our man on the inside is dead, this is going to be much harder. We don't have access to the campus anymore – and security is going to be tightened with someone dead on the premises."

Eidos drew a shimmering dagger and held it up to the light, "Don't you worry one bit, Erwin. I'll have them burning so fast that they won't even know what hit 'em."

"I'm sure you will. But try to keep the collateral damage to a minimum. We have enough heat on our backs as is."

Eidos waved him off and headed back through the door. He didn't need to hear his admonishment before he had even started. Eidos was an experienced assassin and he understood the high stakes that were attached to their latest client. It was the single biggest payday that any of Erwin's gang would ever see. It would take a serious idiot to throw caution to the wind and get caught. Prier was an idiot and that was why he was dead. Eidos would never air his grievances with Erwin personally, but he never liked Prier in the first place. It was probably for the best that he was gone.

He chuckled to himself cockily, "Maria and Felipe huh? They better say their prayers."

---​

It took two days for the news to break.

"Can every student please stay in the dorm until one of the teachers comes and speaks with you?"

Prier missed one of his lessons with the second-year students, and then another – so the faculty set out to find where he had gotten to. The greenhouse was one of the first places they checked, and an hour later a cordon had been established around it to keep the students from seeing what was going on. Everyone was confined to their rooms and strictly forbidden from leaving until the police investigated the scene for evidence. I had to wonder what those detectives were thinking when they saw the scene.

There was no way to rule his death as suicide. He had been shot twice in different places and at an angle from which he could not properly manipulate the gun. It would take an amazing feat of contortion to flip a rifle over your shoulder and shoot straight into your own spine. My room's window did not face the garden where the greenhouse was located so I was totally ignorant as to what was going on out there. The abrupt nature of our quarantine and the ensuing information vacuum that followed started to generate a large number of theories from the others.

"What do you think happened?"

"Did someone attack the campus?"

"I bet one of the girls jumped off of the roof, my older sister said that it used to happen a few times every year!"

The rest of the students had congregated in the study, but a couple of teachers had been posted by the windows to ensure that nobody broke ranks and took a peek outside. I remained entirely unmoved by proceedings. They were not going to find evidence connecting his death back to me. A closer inspection would only reveal how suspicious Prier was, given that the box that contained the gun was in an area that he regularly visited. It was also possible that he had used the gun without wearing gloves first. The police may have been behind the times in some respects, but fingerprinting evidence was something that they had learned to do. His fingers would be the only marks they'd find.

Why would a cherub of a noble lady like myself kill a man in cold blood anyway? There was simply no prospect of them accusing me of shooting him, even if I did indulge in it as a hobby. From the outside it looked like he'd gotten tangled with the wrong people and flown too close to the sun. That theory would be partly right. I was the wrong person.

"You look rather pleased with yourself," Maxwell commented - having snuck up on me with Samantha and Claudius in tow.

"Pleased? I don't have much to be pleased about at the moment."

"Pft. Says the girl sitting pretty at the top of every exam score table right now."

I shrugged, "Isn't that what most people expect from me by now? I don't find it particularly exciting to top a mock test."

Claudius was quick to point fingers as usual, "I bet she knows why we're being kept here in the dorms. That's the face of a woman who's in control of the situation."

"Oh? And what do you suppose I'm responsible for?"

"I don't know, but I've been investigating some strange goings on around here for a week now. I'll figure it out eventually. Just you wait and see."

"By the way, did you speak with Professor Prier about another tutoring session?"

He tensed up as I brought the conversation back into reality, "Ah! I did. But he said that he'd need to speak with you first. He never got around to giving me the okay. It's fine. I've been studying on my own anyway if you don't have the time."

I had to ask how seriously Claudius was taking his villainess theory if he could then move on to asking me for a one-on-one study session. Was this all just fun and games, or did he actually intend to expose me for a supposed crime that existed only in his mind? It was internally contradictory. I couldn't figure him out.

The discussion was disrupted by the arrival of Catherine Selldorf – the girl who had tried to suck up to me during my first week at the school. She had a face like thunder, directed entirely at the trio who had approached me without my asking. She pointed a slender finger into Claudius' face and yelled at him, "Why are you bothering Lady Maria? Can't you see that she isn't interested in hearing your worthless common talk?"

"Common talk? Big words coming from a girl who Maria doesn't even give the time of day to!" Claudius snapped back.

They were starting to attract a lot of attention from the other students who had grown bored of waiting to hear about what was going on. Catherine's face turned bright red as she stewed in place.

"Who do you think you are? You're nothing more than a fool who is too entranced with flights of fancy to study properly! Do us all a favour and drop out if you're not interested in making something of yourself!"

Max stepped in to vouch for his childhood friend, "You should mind your own business and stop starting trouble with the other students. Didn't Maria already tell you to kick sand last time?"

Catherine turned to me and tried to earn my acknowledgement for her interruption, though it was simply too difficult to hide my irritation at being intercepted by a fangirl once again. I chastised her, "Being spoken to is not so upsetting that I require your intervention, Catherine. Please keep it to yourself." That took the wind out of her sails. She slinked away like a kowtowed puppy and left us to our discourse.

Max grumbled, "You attract a lot of those people."

"I never said I liked it. I may be short, but I'm more than capable of handling myself."

Samantha was giving me a curious look. I had never been completely silent around other people, and if they spoke to me respectfully I would respond in kind. My real intention was to stay a certain distance from them. While my initial assumption that I was being targeted was incorrect, it led me down a different path of thought. I had gotten too close to Felipe. There was clearly some kind of scheme at play, a power or oversight beyond my comprehension. Reincarnating into a new life allowed me to accept many oddities I would have previously rejected out of hand. It begged to reason that I was here for a specific purpose.

The uncertainty over what that purpose was filled me with anxiety. Anything more than the last moments I spent dying in the hotel lobby was more than I could have asked for given my actions. There were two conclusions that could be offered. One, this was some kind of divine punishment meant to show me the error of my ways, or two, whoever sent me here did so knowing that I'd slip back into old habits and kill Prier. That was assuming there was a rational actor behind things, of course; this world was too familiar to the game for me to consider it a coincidence though.

Just like how I had pieced together who the assassin was, I was keeping an eye out for clues as to my own position. My killing of Prier would be key to figuring things out. If I was being punished then I would not be rewarded for it. If my guarantor intended for this, then no such karmic consequence would be coming. It was a simple matter of eliminating the options applied to a complicated series of events.

Back to the topic of Samantha. Like many protagonists, she was kind and friendly to everyone unless they gave her a reason not to be. She was reasonable to a fault because the writers wanted her to be sympathetic. Me rebuffing her with harsh words was not going to cause a serious rift between us. If anything, it had only stoked her curiosity. She wanted to know more about the enigma that was Maria Walston-Carter. Broaching that subject was where she would struggle.

I could shut her down easily by refusing to talk. Considering her importance to the plot and her supposed destiny as a heroine, it would be extremely bad if I were to get her killed through proximity. I could accidentally doom the world that she was meant to save – or whatever else happened in the later entries when I wasn't looking.

It was a difficult line to walk. I had to be cold and impersonal, while also doing the bare minimum to keep up with my studies. There were some who did not care for my reputation and approached me regardless of how I acted. Felipe was one of them. He appreciated my interest in magic so much that he couldn't pass by without stopping to see what I was doing. He was an acquaintance I could tolerate, but I would feel awful for getting him hurt if the danger he faced was correlated with my presence.

The doors swung open and one of the senior teachers called for everyone's attention.

"May I have a moment to speak please!"

The whispers quieted down for a moment.

"I'm afraid that there has been a serious incident here on the campus. I'm very sad to say that Professor Prier has been found deceased."

That quiet did not last for very long as various questions and exclamations of shock were thrown in their direction. It was so calamitous that none of their inquirers would be answered. The teacher raised their voice to try and shout over the chaos.

"You are now allowed to leave the dorm! But please do not interfere with the police's work! Classes will be suspended tomorrow while the faculty decides on the best course of action." The people at the back had no hope of hearing the statement in full, but it would diffuse through the conversations that occurred in the wake of it. The teacher left us to ruminate on the death of someone we had seen just days before in class, a man who lived two lives at the same time and intended to kill one of those students using his access to the campus.

"Professor Prier is dead?" Claudius muttered, "I can't believe it!"

I closed my eyes and tried my best to look deeply affected by the news.

Max was shocked, "What in Adelite's good name? Did they find him in the greenhouse? I saw them setting up the cordon around it earlier."

Samantha's face was a mixture of different emotions, but the overarching feeling in the room was one of fear and unease. If one of the teachers could be found dead without anyone knowing, what did it mean for the students? I, on the other hand, was concerned about one person in particular. Felipe had been targeted for a reason. I didn't believe for one second that Prier was going to be the last one to make an attempt on his life. If they decided to close the school and send everyone home until the trouble blew over, I wouldn't be able to justify sticking around and protecting him.

But since Felipe already considered me a friend and was in danger, perhaps being his friend had more advantages than disadvantages...

 

[Dradel]

I half-expected her to decide that Felipe wasn't her problem and he can deal with his own problems, but she's too much of a softie for that, it's adorable.

 

[DWS]

When the students were finally given the go-ahead to leave the dorm wing, it was as if they had unleashed a fury of rumour and innuendo onto the campus. Some brave souls attempted to reach the outskirts of the crime scene only to be turned away by teacher and officer alike, others feared the prospect of seeing blood or even the now-removed body of Professor Prier. They were going to investigate it closely. This was one of, if not the most prestigious educational institution in the nation. There were too many important people here to let a murder pass untested.

From the outside, I was the very image of calm grace and composed cool. All of my biggest fans were simply beside themselves with blind admiration. My mind was elsewhere. If Felipe was already in a dangerous situation, then my proximity to him would presumably make him safer. I protected him from Prier's first shot using the rifle – but what would have happened if I wasn't there? It was with that concept that I decided to break with my previous strategy and get closer to him.

Felipe had already completed much of the groundwork. He had ignored many of the rumours and approached me for open discussion about my studies. It would be simple enough to convince others that we were friends, or that he was taking care of an underclassman and guiding her through the weeds. The problem was that I was not the most sociable person. I could convince people that I meant to be somewhere I wasn't, but being open and emotionally attached to them posed a different set of challenges.

I sought him out by heading into the other study which was closer to the upper years' dorms. He was sitting at one of the tables with his head between his hands. I cleared my throat to catch his attention. He looked up to me with clear anxiety written onto his features, plainer than the black ink in the books that lined the walls around us. He stood from his seat and addressed me.

"Can we speak in private, please?"

"Of course – lead the way."

Felipe led me away from the hustle and bustle of the study and to an isolated area outside in the corridors. It wasn't one-hundred-percent secure, but it would be enough to keep curious ears away for our purposes. Out of sight of everyone else, he leaned up against the wall and sighed wearily.

"Did you hear the news? That the Professor is dead?"

"Yes, they gave the same speech to us as well."

Felipe swallowed and shook his head, "I can't believe it. I understand that they asked us to keep quiet about the person trying to kill us – but now someone else has paid the price for that silence. If they had done things properly, perhaps Professor Prier would still be alive now."

Felipe was suffering under some kind of survivor's guilt. The last thing I wanted or needed was for him to start acting irrationally now that Prier was dead, but I couldn't reveal to him that Prier was the man trying to kill us. Sharing a secret like that was liable to make things even more complicated. The best course of action was to say nothing and use simple logic to unpick the way he was feeling.

I nodded to affirm his perspective but offered a contrary opinion, "Sir Prier was aware of the situation himself. If he found it so distasteful, he would have aired his objections to the other teachers before they agreed to it."

The truth was that Prier would have eagerly accepted a vow of silence. He must have been in a panic about the failed attempt on Felipe's life – because it meant that the information game was taken out of his hands and put into ours. The headmaster offered him a second chance to do things right. None of them were going to talk out of fear of losing the custom of our wealthy parents and the alumni benefactors who funded the school. That strategy had been blown wide open by Prier's death. The press would be all over it like a pack of starving vultures.

"Aye. But suppose he did so under the threat of losing his job, they could have coerced him to take action he found unpalatable."

"You need not blame yourself, Felipe. The culprit is the one who committed the crime, not the ones who evaded their ire. We are not expected to seek and capture the murderer ourselves. There is nothing to suggest that our survival led to his death. It is easy to draw lines between disconnected events in the aftermath."

Felipe exhaled, "You're right, but I still feel terrible. I keep thinking about what might have changed if we spoke out. Maybe they would have suspended school and got him out of harm's way."

"Indeed. I think that the headmaster's actions have little reasoning behind them now that the consequences have become clear."

I had successfully navigated the issue for the time being. I was not an empathetic soul at the best of times, so it came as a relief that Felipe wouldn't drive himself crazy over it. The practical purpose behind it was to disassociate him from the tangled web that was starting to weave around us. A lot of money was riding on Felipe dying and Beatrice Booker being left a girl in waiting once more.

I had pieced together some of the events that led to him being marked. Several different families were in the running to marry Beatrice because she was the only descendant in the family, and no more heirs were on the horizon. She would inevitably inherit the gigantic business empire that her Father and Grandfather had built over hundreds of years. With that on the line, various noble families had thrown everything into wooing them and taking her hand in marriage. The Escobarus family had slipped in at the last moment and shocked everyone else with an unusual offer. Felipe was to be married matrilineally to Beatrice and take her last name.

Not quite the hostile takeover that the others were proposing. It would ensure that the Booker family would retain a certain level of independence from the Escobarus house, while still forging an important business relationship between them. In their eyes, it was better to have something from the deal than being left with nothing. Suddenly, the non-inheriting son had been inserted into the line for a serious treasure trove of money and influence. That was why he was so important, and why so many other families were furious with them.

Felipe's old man had managed to piss off just about every family in the country with his chicanery. Matrilineal marriages were extremely rare and often done in low-stakes situations with members of the family who were not expected to lead the house in the future. It was a savvy call to offer one to Beatrice's father – who was not seeking a merger with another family at the time.

This posed a problem. There were too many suspects to count. Every family who had forwarded their kin now had cause to try and kill Felipe to annul the arrangement. Potentially billions of Walmarks were on the line, even more, if the family in question had a business that would benefit from integrating with the Bookers'. That kind of money was enough to drive anyone to desperate measures. The payoff was too great to think twice about being implicated in an assassination plot.

Felipe forced out a chuckle, "Did you come to make sure that I was okay? I didn't expect that from you, Maria."

I frowned, "I didn't realise that our relationship was so cold. This much is to be expected of acquaintances, is it not?"

"I have no idea why so many of the others call you ill-mannered. I was thinking that you didn't care about making many friends. Though Talia has been saying positive things about you for some time now. Don't tell her I said that."

I brushed my fringe aside and motioned to my chest proudly; "Consider this a display of friendship, then. You are in rare and privileged company." Felipe was in a much better mood now that I had spoken with him. It was the only thing I could do. None of the other students were aware of the original incident.

"I'm honoured, honestly."

There was a moment of silence as I glanced out of the window and into the gardens. We weren't at the correct angle to see the greenhouse, but the police officers and detectives were scurrying back and forth in a wild search for whatever evidence was left. It would be a twisted tale to piece together. A man shot by his own gun, in a greenhouse that he and only a few others had access to. The low rumble of the other students speaking at volume could be heard echoing through the halls.

"I assume school will be suspended for a few days, if not longer. Our parents are going to be outraged about all of this."

"Yes, there'll be no covering this up," I commented. To be a fly on the wall in the staff room at this moment. The headmaster must have been turning greyer by the second as he was forced to deal with the media and the parents. There was no spinning this one into a positive, someone had died on the campus and it was no accident.

Felipe straightened himself out and tried to put on a smile. "I knew you were composed, but it was still something of a shock to see you walking into the study so unaffected. You really do have nerves of steel."

I made an excuse, "I can feel uncertain, just as you can. I merely present myself confidentially even when the situation is dangerous."

"How many dangerous situations do you get into?"

"Nothing quite as dangerous as being shot at with a gun."

Felipe and I drifted back towards the study as the discussion returned from Prier's death to something more casual. Beatrice was waiting at the door for him. She hurried over and took his hands into hers, "Are you okay, Felipe?"

He grinned, "Yes. It's difficult to stay moody with you and Lady Maria looking out for me."

Beatrice regarded me with a friendly curtsey, "I do hope that the incident has not upset you, Maria."

"Upset? She was the one consoling me!" Felipe chuckled.

"You were just the young Lady that I wanted to speak with," Beatrice continued, "We are hosting a ball at our estate soon and I'd like to extend an invitation to you and your Father."

"A ball?" I repeated, "Where will you find the time between lessons?"

"Beatrice's estate is very close to the academy," Felipe explained, "Tis' only an hour's walk from here, and even faster by carriage. A lot of the girls were hoping to host a ball before the final year graduates, and Beatrice offered to utilise her estate for the event."

"I see. Then I would be happy to attend, of course."

That was the biggest lie of the day so far. I'd been to a few balls in my years, and each and every one was a profound exercise in boredom. They were essentially networking events with a fancy top-coat and expensive dresses. It was where a lot of matchmaking and deal brokering happened between the families. Most of the girls wanted to compete and see who had the nicest outfit. I was not interested.

Beatrice clasped her hands together in delight, "Wonderful! I hope to see you wearing your best. I'm sure you'll look amazing, Maria."

"I will endeavour not to disappoint you."

The words tainted my mouth with a sour taste.

---​

"I'm telling you that something fishy is going on here," Claudius opined. Around the table sat Talia, Samantha and Maxwell. "First the teachers start acting strangely, and now one of them has been killed. It must be connected."

Maxwell shrugged, "There's no evidence that they're connected. I'm still not even sure what you mean when you say the teachers are acting differently."

Talia piled on too, "And it's easy to claim that things are strange after they happen. Why wouldn't it be strange? One of the teachers just got rolled out of here under a white sheet..."

Claudius clicked his tongue disapprovingly, "All I'm saying is that I've been on the trail of this case for some time now. I thought that things were odd, and now there's even more evidence to support that."

Samantha was withering, "This isn't a game. Someone is dead."

"I'm not treating it like a game. I don't know if the professor had any family or friends waiting for him, but I'm going to get justice for them one way or another."

Claudius' special perspective was going to be badly needed. He didn't trust those police detectives to correctly deduce the real culprit behind the murder. Claudius had put together a list of his prime suspects. Though simple in nature, it was a good starting point. He had managed to assemble the names and years of every member of the shooting society, as well as award-winning competitors like Maria Walston-Carter and Adrian Roderro. He could begin to eliminate the suspects one by one as evidence came to light through his investigation. With a campus occupied by a thousand plus students and staff members, eye-witness testimony would be essential.

Even if a lot of those people wanted nothing to do with him.

Claudius had a fairly negative reputation for nagging people about gossip and rumours. While they were happy to indulge in that with friends, a stranger from the first year did not have the social capital to do so without charge. One of them accused Claudius of trying to claim Maria as a romantic partner while tracking her movements. He was offended by the suggestion; it was all for the purpose of protecting people from her wicked ways!

"The police detectives are going to figure it out before you do," Max concluded, "They've got all that fancy equipment, and people are actually willing to speak with them about the day of the crime." He knew exactly how to rile Claude up with snide comments like that. Claude brushed it off and continued to jot down notes in his book for later.

"I heard that Prier was shot using a gun. That means that the culprit must know how to use one."

"Huh? Isn't it just as easy as pointing it and pulling the trigger?"

"Not so, Max. Even at close ranges, an inexperienced shooter is more likely to miss than hit their target. If the gun wasn't loaded, it would also take them some time to discover how the mechanism works. These factors reduce the likelihood of an uninitiated person killing him. They had to be in the greenhouse at the time – so the pressure to shoot before he could escape or fight back would be high." Max curled his brow at the reasonable path that Claude was taking. It was almost enough to make him forget the hundreds of other insane theories he had posited over the years.

"So, who's your prime suspect?"

"The best shooters in the school are Maria, Adrian, the members of the shooting society, and some of the faculty members. I haven't been able to put together a definitive list of which teachers participate though."

"How did you find out that he was shot?" Talia asked under her breath.

"One of the other students overheard a detective talking about it."

"And what if he wasn't shot?"

Claude hummed, "I'll just have to change my theory. That's what a good detective does."

A good detective wouldn't be relying on an overheard whisper from an unreliable source for the basis of their case, but the rest of the gang knew that trying to argue with him was a waste of breath. Claudius was going to follow through with it no matter what they said to him. There was no harm as long as they weren't dragged along to help.

Talia sought to change the subject, "Anyway – Beatrice is putting together a ball and she said I could invite a few friends. Would you like to come with, Samantha?"

Samantha's face lit up, "A ball? That sounds interesting. I've been to dances and harvest festivals, but never a ball."

"They're interesting the first time you go. There's food, dresses, and dancing. The hardest part is making conversation with people you don't like."

"I'd love to."

"Great! It's always better with friends. Make sure you have a nice dress to wear. I'd lend you one of mine, but you're... a little too large to fit into them."

Max laughed, "That's rude."

"Not what I meant!" Talia scowled.

 

[DWS]

Classes were suspended for the rest of the week while the headmaster attempted to settle on a course of action. The police wanted space from the leering eyes of the student body, so the cordon was extended to a large section of the gardens which we were now forbidden from passing through. I could not conceptualise a means by which they could discover my identity. I had been very careful to pick my moment where foot traffic was non-existent, it was also a sunny, dry day which meant there was no residue left on my shoes or any footprints leading up to the greenhouse door.

There was an adage that I liked to stick to; always do things right the first time around. Second chances weren't handed out willy-nilly – a single misstep could unravel an entire scheme in one go. Every morning I would go through the same routine to make sure that I left no evidence in my wake. I would clip my nails, comb my hair until the loose strands were removed, and thoroughly wash every nook and cranny of my body. My clothes were treated to the same meticulous process. Every stray fibre and piece of dirt would be removed before I could consider wearing them. Even with Prier bleeding onto the floor instead of me and my clothes, I still cleaned them until it risked making my fingers split.

In a world where DNA evidence was not yet widespread or understood, those risks were minimised to a certain extent. But breaking from the routine would lead to sloppy behaviour should that advancement be brought to bear. Two connective pieces of evidence could bring everything crashing down. You did not want the police connecting dots with your name and face in mind.

The only thing people wanted to talk about was Prier's death. The police were forced to come out and issue a statement to the press about what had happened and how they were searching for the killer. Otherwise, they ran the risk of having a rogue member leak the details. With the narrative set a sense of panic started to spread as many students wondered who was next on the hit list. Worst of all was Felipe – who had recused himself from most social activities out of fear for his life.

That served my purposes just fine. I wasn't intending to act as his guardian angel, but I got the feeling that I was going to be dragged into his orbit whether I wanted to be or not. I had originally intended to have a brief discussion with him in the yard and was almost shot for the offence. There would be more of them coming no matter what I did, and they were going to threaten me and Felipe all the same. If I were a nicer person I would have chosen to do it out of some misplaced intent to redeem myself for sins past, but I had abandoned any thoughts of a karmic redemption years ago.

Because there were no lessons I didn't know what to do with myself. I had already made all of the preparations I could. The lesson periods dominated so much of the day that I never worried about being bored or unoccupied. The lonesome figure that I had projected to others was backfiring in spectacular fashion. My old standby of consuming a bunch of visual novels was not possible in a world without computers. The fiction section of the study was light on quantity as well. I feared what would happen once I worked my way through the entire shelf.

On the third day of lockdown, I had a guest in the library with me. Samantha had not veiled her intentions very well. Since the confrontation on the steps, she had been keeping a close eye on me. It hadn't crossed the boundary into active stalking just yet, but if she happened upon me while I was doing something, she would stop and stare for a while. I glanced up over the rim of the book I was reading. Samantha quickly ducked behind the dictionary that she had grabbed at random to try and conceal herself.

Samantha certainly was persistent.

Adrian was meant to be the one Samantha had to 'fix,' that was the archetype that he fit for people who found that appealing. Somehow that generous spirit had been transferred over to me. She believed wholeheartedly that there was a deeper meaning behind my self-imposed seclusion. With enough time and effort, surely, she could break down the wall of ice that surrounded me. How idealistic, how droll. The author was not plumbing the depths of the idea well when creating her.

I didn't particularly mind her staring. I was used to handling the pressure, both from my experiences before and after my rebirth. People would always stare at me no matter where I went, and you needed to project confidence when you were entering somewhere you weren't supposed to be. I was the one having the most fun in the end. I'd glance up occasionally just to make her jump and hide.

The cat-and-mouse game had to end eventually. I finished reading yet another book and stood from my seat, passing by the table that Samantha was using to return it to its proper place on the shelf behind her. When I turned back she was doing her best to resist the temptation to swivel around and follow me.

I stopped at the side of the table and peered into the open pages; "Are you enjoying that dictionary, Samantha?"

Her eyes darted in every direction, "You know me – just brushing up on my vocabulary!"

We both knew how unconvincing that line was. Samantha closed it and put on her best, prize-winning smile to try and distract me. Perhaps in her mind having me speak to her unprompted was progress in her attempts to win me over. Things went off the rails almost immediately as she opened her mouth but found herself without the words to say. The sweat starting to form on her forehead intensified when I asked my next question.

"Is there any particular reason why you keep following me? I would have thought that a busy girl like you had better things to do with her time, and I'm not the most stimulating person to observe besides."

She shook her head in a flurry of blonde locks, "I'm not following you. We just happen to run into each other every so often."

"I don't find your excuses becoming, Samantha. You and I both know what is happening here. Or do you wish to experience my faint admonishment for a second time?"

Samantha finally got a little serious; "I never said I enjoyed the way you treated me back then. You're rather rude for a girl that everyone loves to fawn over."

I shrugged, "I never asked them to do so. If they were to know me better, they would learn to feel the same way. I wouldn't be so popular then, would I?"

"Why would you..."

Samantha paused as she considered what I said. A lightbulb turned on in her brain as she remembered that she was projecting her own thoughts and experiences onto me. She had been acting under the presumption that I was just like every over egotist in the academy, the ones who preened so happily like peacocks. I didn't care about my reputation as long as it continued serving me as camouflage.

"...Did you say those things to me on purpose?" she asked.

"Maybe I did. But the intent was the same. I think you'll be much happier keeping your distance from me."

Samantha crossed her arms, "There's nothing I can do about that if you keep acting so coldly."

"I meant physical distance," I quipped, "You've been trailing me for two weeks now. As I said, you would find yourself in much healthier company if you spent more time with your friends."

"I don't want to be your enemy."

"That's good because you're not."

Samantha was thrown off for a different set of reasons than before. From afar she saw me as an idealised noble girl, a delicate doll that would fall apart under pressure. But when I spoke to her directly like this she could sense an overpowering presence and confidence hidden beneath the surface, this was the real Maria Walston-Carter - the one that did not bow to expectation. Samantha was unsure as to what the best approach to speaking with me was.

"Are you going to Beatrice's ball?" she asked.

I nodded, "Yes. I will be attending."

"That's surprising. I would have thought that you have little time or patience for something like that."

"It would be rude to turn down an invitation. I have been to many balls before."

"This will be my first."

"Then do not expect too much. They are a rather mundane affair once you look past the expensive dresses and food. There will be many shaken hands and scant pleasantries shared between men who cannot stand the sight of each other."

Samantha's mind was elsewhere, "I'd love to see you in a dress, Maria."

"Why?"

She blushed as she attempted to elaborate, "I think that you're beautiful. If there's anything that everyone can agree on appreciating, it's something beautiful. It's like when I wake up in the morning and see the sun rising over the farm and all the hills that surround it."

She loved using that line in the game too.

It was a flag that launched her into one of the big romance subplots. Something rather profound coming from the lips of a country girl who people treated with disdain. How that kind of talk worked on winning over Adrian of all people was another mystery altogether. That boy wouldn't know beauty if it hit him with a brick.

"I will do my best not to disappoint, then."

Samantha had turned bright red in the pause between her explanation and my response. It was embarrassing to say out loud, even more so when faced with Maria Walston-Carter. I put her out of her misery by curtseying and taking my leave of the room so that she could regret it in peace.

"Samantha, what am I going to do with you?" I muttered to myself.

---​

"I do hope that you're taking our security arrangements very seriously," Geoffrey Booker barked at several of his house servants. The heavy-set man had called the organisers of his upcoming ball into a sudden meeting to make sure that everything was going as planned. The news coming from the campus was serious and grave in equal measure. The last thing he wanted was for a rapscallion to kill someone on his property as well!

"Yes Sir. We've decided to tighten security further on the evening of the event. We've put forward several different names to guard the premises at that time," the head servant, Michael, explained. Several applications had slipped through the chain until they reached his ears.

"Have you selected from them yet?" Geoffrey inquired.

"Nay. We were hoping to receive your affirmation of our choices."

Michael placed several of the pages down in front of his employer. On them were the names, profiles, backgrounds and pictures of the men and women who had applied to take on the job. Geoffrey was a liberal boss. He usually entrusted the fine details to his staff members, though for a matter this important he always wanted to have the final say. He perused the applications with a firm brow.

He read some of their names; "Wesley Franklin, Ode Freeman, Kirk Grantpark." They were all experienced in both combat and security, defending businesses from thieves and protecting the rich and powerful. One of the men caught his eye in particular thanks to his extensive work history, "Eidos Bolte? What a curious gentleman."

"His resume is very impressive."

"It is! And you've ensured that his background is spotless?"

"He is listed in the mage registry as a grade three, and his other references refer to him as a consummate professional. I do not foresee any problems with picking him."

Geoffrey was a quick decision-maker. He separated four documents from the pile, including Eidos', and pointed to them with a decisive harrumph.

"These four will do. They can complement the other guards that we're bringing in."

Michael offered no debate for his choices. Once his mind was set on something, there was no changing it. The four successful applicants would be invited onto the estate, given a tour of the grounds and their assigned posts, and then fitted for appropriate uniforms to make them blend in with the rest of the waiting hands who would be working at the ball. Now that the matter was settled – they could finish their preparations.

Geoffrey moved right along to the next (and his favourite) subject; "Now! About the buffet..."

 

[LandWhale172]

Classes were suspended

Click to shrink...

Needs a threadmark

 

[r00ney1991]

Thank you for the chapter!
This story is very enjoyable, and deserves more attention than it has gotten.

 

[cosoco]

He read some of their names; "Wesley Franklin, Ode Freeman, Kirk Grantpark." They were all experienced in both combat and security, defending businesses from thieves and protecting the rich and powerful. One of the men caught his eye in particular thanks to his extensive work history, "Eidos Bolte? What a curious gentleman."

"His resume is very impressive."

"It is! And you've ensured that his background is spotless?"

Click to shrink...

Never ask your butler to make sure that your new guard's background is spotless. It guarantees that they're an assassin.

The ideal candidate is one where the butler says, "Don't hire that one! He has a reputation as a murderer due to a mysterious incident in his past. He's a drunkard and layabout." That guy has a heart of gold and has been unfairly maligned by an evil mastermind who is also targeting you.

"Not so, Max. Even at close ranges, an inexperienced shooter is more likely to miss than hit their target. If the gun wasn't loaded, it would also take them some time to discover how the mechanism works. These factors reduce the likelihood of an uninitiated person killing him. They had to be in the greenhouse at the time – so the pressure to shoot before he could escape or fight back would be high." Max curled his brow at the reasonable path that Claude was taking. It was almost enough to make him forget the hundreds of other insane theories he had posited over the years.

"So, who's your prime suspect?"

"The best shooters in the school are Maria, Adrian, the members of the shooting society, and some of the faculty members. I haven't been able to put together a definitive list of which teachers participate though."

Click to shrink...

This seems... a little farfetched? Prier could have been shot by someone he trusted, or shot from ambush before he even realized that anyone was there. That would take some skill, but not much. Dunno, I guess the joke is that Claudius always suspects Maria for everything, on no evidence, and he's usually right.

 

[DWS]

Beatrice and her Father were better at damage control than the police were. All it took to take the student body's mind off of the grisly murder that had occurred in the gardens was to promise a grand ball almost immediately afterwards. Everybody was excited to show off their most expensive clothes and chatter the night away in a gaggle of talking heads. More than anything it presented a chance for the cream of the crop to cement their position on top of the proverbial food chain.

I already knew how this was going to go. Everyone had done their bit to turn me into an almost mythical figure among the academy's students. The ice-cold noble with the ruby eyes and onyx-black hair, the girl who went around the country winning shooting competitions, the one who was simply too good to bother with having a circle of friends. What I chose to wear did not matter. I could walk into that hall wearing a plastic bag and they'd find a way to praise it as daring and innovative.

I liked to look good – so I wasn't going to half-ass my big ball debut. I was not spoilt for choice, as my luggage had been filled with items that were more essential than dresses and gowns. Black and red were the colours of the day. Comparing them, I decided that the black dress was a little too morbid for the atmosphere of a ball, so I went with the red one.

But a dress did not a lady-in-waiting make. I already had some matching shoes to go with it, and I'd long ago learned how to apply makeup as well. Once everything was in place, I stood before the mirror and took a moment to reckon with the figure that stood reflected in front of me. A doe-faced teenager with curly black hair, wearing a frilly red dress that would only be considered fashionable one hundred years before my time.

Well, at least it wasn't the most embarrassing thing I had ever worn.

It helped that Maria Walston-Carter was expected to wear something like this. If I was still in my old body, that would have elicited a very different reaction. The hem of the skirt was high enough that I couldn't safely bring my gun with me without running the risk of something seeing it. You just never know what's going to happen when you're around other people. A simple slip and fall could be extremely untimely when hiding something against your thigh.

I had reached out to my Father once again and procured the family carriage for the trip to Beatrice's estate. Many of the wealthier students would be doing the same, resulting in a calamitous traffic jam down the full length of the main driveway. It was only by the grace of the Headmaster that they had permission to enter the grounds, as it served as a convenient distraction from the whole murder issue. The parents would have a thing or two to say at the next meeting regardless of what he tried.

Beatrice invited most of the first-year students to come along. The addition of my name to the roster had encouraged several fence-sitters to accept invitations in the hopes of sucking up to me. As I perched at the top of the main stairs and looked out onto the sun-drenched cobbles, the full scale of the mess that she had unleashed came into sharp focus.

There were dozens and dozens of carriages waiting for their turn to leave the grounds. I sighed and descended the stairs, heading out to where my carriage was parked and waiting. It was just me and the driver this time around; of whom I was not familiar with. They rotated in and out depending on who was willing to employ them.

It was a relatively short journey through the hills to reach the Booker estate. The Walston-Carter compound was large enough already, but the Bookers were very auspicious and wanted to show it. Their mansion was easily twice the size of our own, and the gardens were far beyond the maintenance capabilities of a single person.

I hopped down from the carriage and took a moment to scout the exterior of the building. A large balcony covered the second of three floors. There were tall windows covering every side, but I had been led to believe that the actual hall where the event was being held was towards the back side, which faced a steep downward slope. That would make it harder for a sniper to shoot through them and hit somebody.

I made sure to get a clear view of all of the points of interest. The main lobby was similar to my home – with a large staircase in the centre that split outwards into two different wings. A pair of double doors beneath each branch allowed entry to the bowels of the building where the staff would navigate and sometimes sleep if the owner desired them to be on-site. With all of the money in the world, the big families would still chase the same trends in design and construction. Almost every house I'd visited sported a similar layout. It did make things easier for me knowing that they were following the same rulebook.

The main difference was the size of each room. Smaller manors would open up the lounges to their guests so that they could get away from the crowds and have a private discussion. The Bookers had no need to do such a thing, though they would surely allow us to do so if we asked. The manor had been decorated appropriately to welcome the students and their parents. Colourful bunting and flaming torches were used to give off a festival-like atmosphere outside, while the interior was meticulously cleaned and presented. Every room was decked out with lavish wooden furniture and golden trim that reflected light everywhere.

We were directed towards the dance hall at the back left of the building. It was a large, rectangular room used for these kinds of engagements, and you'd find them in almost every manor built in the last two hundred years. When not in use, they made for extremely impractical and overly large sitting rooms which were never chosen over the much better-designed lounges that every home came with four or five of. There were around one hundred guests in total, consisting primarily of the students from our year who could be bothered to come, Beatrice's actual friends from her year, and some of their parents who wanted to glad-hand with one of the richest families in the country.

Even though I was dedicating all of my focus to learning the layout of the manor for later, it was impossible not to notice how everyone kept staring at me. That was nothing new – but now that I'd dressed myself up in some more feminine, they couldn't contain their adoration for my supposed beauty. Red was an unusual colour to use for a ball gown, as I had learned during my very first event. The fashion of the day was yellow, white, pearl or blue. I found that red complimented my dark hair better than those shades did. I don't know why I was so hung up on how I looked. It was in character for a noble lady to care about her appearance, but this felt more personal than just doing it to fit in.

I weaved my way through the crowd that had gathered by the main entrance and continued my inspection of the operation area. The Booker patriarch had spared no expense in making sure that the security was ironclad. Several armed guards had caught my eye before I even entered the main hall, and there were four unarmed men who were standing around and looking tough inside as well.

It would be easy to pass it off as a precaution after what happened at the academy, but whether Beatrice had told her father about the attempt on Felipe's life was still unknown. One of them was in the unenviable position of watching the drinks table so that the students wouldn't steal some of the alcohol and start trouble.

The hall boasted two entrances, one which was for the guests and another on the other side that was being used by the staff members to restock the buffet table that had been placed against the right wall. A live band was already filling the room with the dulcet tones of classical music, but nobody had yet dared venture onto the floor as the inaugural experiment.

My first priority was getting my eyes on Felipe. This type of environment would be attractive to an idiot, with plenty of noise and potential witnesses to mask their amazing assassination. It was unlikely that a second killer could escape from this place without being caught, but that didn't mean that they couldn't charge Felipe and do the job before that happened.

This was going to be challenging, not only did I have to worry about Felipe being stabbed or shot by an interloper, but there was a grand game playing out right in front of me. It was the most vicious, cruel and sadistic of all social contracts. To submerge oneself into the churning waters of noble pleasantries was to become something akin to a military leader.

The battle lines would be drawn, some based on pre-existing friend circles from the academy, while others would generate spontaneously to provide strength in numbers. The weapons of war were not fired from the end of a gun but with tongue and titter. Who needed a knife when you could insult someone's fashion sense behind their back?

For all the talk about this being a fun getaway for the first years to get acquainted, the reality was that these events were primarily hosted to grease the wheels. Business deals, marriages, and hostile takeovers; they were the ultimate objective. The heavily biased guest list would not prevent this. The mere fact that some of the parents decided to come with their children was evidence enough. They'd filter out to one of the lounges and start doing their usual routine soon enough.

Business marriages were nothing unusual. It was the most common reason why someone my age would be betrothed. Unlike in my old world, Love Revolution had an interesting piece of lore that stated that while patrilineal marriages were preferred, it was also acceptable for non-inheriting children to marry matrilineally. That served as an excuse to have some of the negative characters change their name to match Samantha's and 'escape' the chains of family.

Beatrice and Felipe seemed rather taken with one another. They finally emerged from the staff door to polite applause from those who spotted them. Beatrice was relishing the attention but her other half could not hide how nervous he felt about being surrounded by so many people so soon. When his eyes landed on me, the sense of relief was visible on his face. I had underestimated just how badly the sniper attack affected him emotionally. I was used to getting shot at, but these kids had the good fortune not to have similar experiences.

"Thank you for coming, everyone!" Beatrice announced. It was difficult to hear her over so many voices. She walked up and down, shaking hands and greeting guests like a practised hostess. Felipe stuck close to her but didn't have much to say. When the pair finally reached me, Beatrice had nothing but praise to share for my choice of dress.

"You look wonderful, Maria! It suits you perfectly, and I love your hair!"

I bowed my head, "Thank you. This is a lovely home, it's an honour to be invited."

"You don't need to be so formal with us. Felipe told me that you're one of the brightest from the magic class this year."

Felipe nudged her shoulder, "Don't tell her that."

Beatrice laughed, "He's so shy about this kind of thing."

Her dress was similar to mine. A plunging neckline revealed the top of her chest and shoulders, with the main band wrapping around the chest and zipping up from behind. It was accented with lace and frills in a slightly lighter shade of blue than the body beneath. The multiple ruffled tiers spilt outwards from her waist and dangled below the knee, which was the main difference; I'd intentionally chosen a shorter dress when shopping for them with my Father a few months ago.

If something bad were to happen it would allow me an increased degree of mobility, with the trade-off being an increased risk of someone seeing my bare legs. Some of the boys would be disappointed to find that most dresses came with privacy-conscious designs that concealed the lady's underwear from sight.

There was a colourful display of different gowns on offer for the aspiring fashionista. They came in all shapes and sizes, some slim and modern in form factor, or going all-out on curls and frills. But just as I predicted, I was the only one I could see wearing red. It was not helping me blend into the crowd.

Returning my focus to the young couple, I gave Felipe a knowing look to try and assure him that I was on his side. He cracked a small smile and put his hand on Beatrice's shoulder, "We should go greet the rest of the attendees. Come find us and have a chat later, we'd love to speak with you."

"I will."

Beatrice gave me a small wave before being swallowed up by the crowd once more. I sighed and stayed on the far edge of the room where less of the footfall was concentrated. I could move back and forth by the table and keep an eye on them from a distance, but sticking close would be the best way to protect Felipe from any attempted assassinations.

There were other familiar faces floating to and fro, including Samantha and her gang and some of the girls who had tried to ingratiate themselves with me earlier. For whatever reason Claudius had accepted an invitation to come too. He wouldn't bother with a noble engagement like this without a motivating reason. Since it was him - it had to be related to a 'mystery' he was trying to crack.

If a killer were lurking in the manor, they would not be amongst the students. My initial concerns about Adrian and the shooting club members were unfounded. Whoever wanted Felipe dead had paid an outside group to execute the contract. Prier just so happened to have the credentials and position to try and kill him on the campus grounds. It was a modus operandi that I could follow to the next conclusion. The second person was going to try and get a job in the manor because the ball was no secret to people with working eyes and ears. Beatrice's father had splashed a lot of money on extra hands for the catering, music and security. Who was to say that the violinist wasn't hiding a gun in her dress?

If I had to pick a group that was easy to infiltrate, the security guards would be first on the list. I'd been memorising their faces and behaviour since the moment I stepped onto the property. They were all assigned an affectionate nickname. There were the likes of Twitchy, Baldy, Curly, Beardy and Lanky. Twitchy couldn't stay in place without flinching like an over-tuned neurotic mess. My eyes kept getting drawn to him as he'd move suddenly or start pacing back and forth by the window opposite. It was immensely distracting.

Before I could cross the room and get a closer look, someone bumped into me from behind.

"Hey! Why don't you watch where you're going!"

That growl was unmistakable. Adrian Rederro had walked straight into me, and in his usual manner, blamed the victim for his ignorance. The complaining came to a sudden and sharp end as he discovered who he had started berating out of the blue.

"I see that your manners are not improved even when forced into a suit."

"Why the hell did Beatrice invite you to this party?"

"We're friends. Felipe was the one who extended the invitation to me."

"You don't have any friends," he observed.

"Believe what you please. Does my presence here not provide the proof you need?"

Adrian was bitter, "You probably threatened to do something horrible. That's how you always get your way."

I had no idea what he was talking about but it wasn't worth the time to argue or procure examples of what exactly I had done that was so terrible. Adrian was a sore, sore loser. That was true whether he was dealing with Samantha or me. He was the designated bad boy of the cast, having a similar arc to Theodore but without the charm or sympathy-earning vulnerability. He was abrasive and irritating but sported a legion of dedicated fans.

I had my fill of Adrian for the evening and we'd only been talking for a few seconds. I rolled my eyes at him and returned to what I was doing before he could drag me down to his level with more inane bickering. The abruptness of my disengagement left him standing there with his mouth open.

It was time to assassin-proof the ball.