Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

21 – One Debt

“Ah! You know her well, I presume?”

“..Yes, but why is he here?”

“I found this fellow loitering around the Magic Tower, so I

took the liberty of bringing him along. Haha!!”

“..Master, please refrain from doing such things…”

While I dislike the presumption of your introduction,

I am nonetheless grateful that it captured Isabella’s attention.

‘..Must be going.’

Rather like a father and daughter than master and student,

I turned to leave, leaving their bickering behind,

“Ah!! Where do you think you’re going?”

Freaon had somehow seized my wrist from behind,

and Isabella was watching me with a stilted gaze.

“..I’m not exactly versed in scroll-making magic..”

“Hm? Nay, I am quite aware now that the scrolls were not your doing.”

“Then surely you have no further business with me..?”

“Goodness, has a person changed so easily that they are so cold?

Even if we are former betrothed and classmates in the same course, are we not to even exchange greetings?”

..Freaon clearly knows nothing of what transpired between Isabella and myself.

Otherwise, a Sage would not possess such a blunt perceptiveness.

Isabella, behind him, tugged on his sleeve, her face a mask of pleading,

but he merely smiled down at her.

“Come now, Isabel? Surely you can offer a greeting?”

“..M-Master..”

“It’s quite alright.”

If I allowed it to continue, I feared her stomach would

become twisted with unease, and so I had to intervene.

“The Lady Isabella and I have experienced a slight awkwardness between us.

Thus, it would be difficult for her to offer immediate greetings.”

“Oh..was that so? Perhaps our student was the first to err..”

“Nay. It was my error, and there is no need for apologies.”

At my words, Isabella’s eyes widened, and, as though she had never blushed,

she stared directly at me.

..Am I so surprising?

While I harbor no fond feelings for her,

I am not so ill-mannered as to speak ill of a student to her teacher, after so long.

Offering farewells to Freaon and Isabella,

I exited the room and was about to return to my dormitory, where Ella was waiting,

“U-Um..excuse me!!”

Isabella’s voice calling from behind caused me to

pause and turn around.

“What is it, Lady Isabella?”

“I..I..th-that..uhh..”

“If you have nothing to say, I shall take my leave.”

“I… I’m s-sorrys!”

“…?”

“..Hic!”

Was that an apology?

From Isabella, the young lady so renowned for her high nose and arrogance?

And it seems she bit her tongue as she spoke,

her face contorting momentarily before she became aware of her embarrassment,

and her cheeks flushed crimson once more.

“…For what, pray tell, are you apologizing?”

“F-for everything… for all the times I’ve treated you so coldly.”

“…”

…Truthfully, I hadn’t expected an apology.

She knows only magic, and magic, it seems, is her entire life.

She pays no heed to anything else.

Thus, I assumed she hadn’t even noticed the way she acted towards me, and had forgotten it all.

Of course, the apology was somewhat… no, quite late, that I cannot deny.

But I’ve encountered many an arrogant soul who, upon committing a wrong, would sooner double down than offer so much as a word of regret.

And I had long since written off her arrogance and the misdeeds that followed as mere youthful folly.

I could, without a doubt, forgive her.

“…Frankly, I do find it to be a rather belated apology.”

“Th-that’s… I’m s-so…”

“It’s quite alright. As you said, it was long ago, and

you did not directly inflict any harm upon me.”

“E-even so!!”

“It’s quite alright. If you still feel uneasy, consider it a debt, then.”

“A… a debt?”

“Well… you could grant me a favor sometime in the future, should the occasion arise.”

“Th-that would be enough?”

“Yes.”

The Duchy of Renier, you see, would undoubtedly have access to research materials that I could never otherwise obtain.

Isabella seemed to consider it,

but it was an offer that required no agonizing.

The nature of my potential request remained unknown to her,

but she *was* the eldest daughter of a Duke’s house.

Any reasonable favor would surely be within her power to grant.

Achievable it was,

And though it be a request beyond her means to bear,

Her mentor would, without hesitation, rise to the task.

If such a trifle could wash away a lifetime’s guilt,

Would it not be a worthy bargain for her?

Perhaps she, too, had arrived at this very conclusion,

For she ceased her hesitation, and with eyes filled with resolve, spoke on.

“That offer, I accept.”

“Then it shall be so.”

“..Is that truly all you require?”

“You seem to presume you know what I would ask of you?”

“..Th-that is..”

Judging by the blush that crept across her face as she spoke,

One could surmise, roughly, the nature of her imaginings.

But I have lived through more years than she could possibly fathom.

That is not to say that such desires have vanished entirely,

But I have no wish to indulge them upon one so young.

Rather, her very confidence in such imaginings,

Brought forth a laughter I could not restrain.

“..What is so amusing..?”

“Rest assured, I have no interest in the Lady’s person.”

“…!”

“Then, I must take my leave.”

I fancied I heard a shout from behind,

But one who values decorum as she does would never raise her voice in such a manner.

So thinking, I slowly pushed open the white door, heralding the genesis of the White Magic Tower,

And stepped outside.

*

“Hmm? What troubles you, child?”

“..It’s nothing, Mentor.”

“Nothing it is not. You wear a look of utter distraction,

Isabel.”

My Mentor spoke true.

She was incapable of thinking of aught else at that moment.

The man who, until mere moments ago, had shaken her thoughts to their very core.

A man named Jenison.

At first, it was guilt and self-reproach bordering on madness.

A guilt stemming from the dreadful wrong she had committed against him, and

A self-reproach for having stooped to the very sort of arrogant noble behavior she so detested.

A tangled knot of emotions rendered me incapable of meeting his gaze properly.

Of course, the intention to apologize was there.

But I had no desire to offer some half-baked, commonplace apology in this setting.

Especially not in front of who was, in essence, her master.

Her master, a person who, by all accounts, was the very definition of overprotective,

and simultaneously possessed a level of power that bordered on the monstrous.

Even if she apologized on the spot, should he refuse to accept it,

there was no way her master would stand idly by.

Bearing that in mind, I decided to postpone the apology,

my heart only yearning for this awkward moment to pass quickly.

Yes, that was to be the plan.

If only he hadn’t spoken those words, admitting that he was the one who had erred first.

‘It was my mistake, so you don’t need to apologize.’

‘It was my mistake…’

‘It was my…’

Why?

Why was he shielding my fault?

He must resent me.

Perhaps even to the point of hatred.

But why?

With my master right there, if he had only proclaimed it was my fault,

he could have gained something from me under the guise of an apology.

The name of a Great Sage held considerable weight.

It would be harder to find a worthless item among his possessions than to find a valuable one.

Perhaps he might even gain the opportunity to directly learn his magical theories.

No matter how I thought about it, there was no way he hadn’t considered all of this.

Then why?

Why was he trying to cover my fault with his own sin?

Even though it would only amplify his already infamous reputation.

Was it his last shred of kindness towards me?

The moment that thought struck me, I felt an overwhelming wave of shame.

I had wanted to postpone the apology, all because I didn’t want my master to discover my mistake,

because I was afraid of people’s gaze,

because I feared damage to my reputation,

I was so ashamed of even considering delaying the apology when I should have been kneeling before him right then and there.

Reaching that realization, I snapped back to my senses.

He had already been gone from the room for some time,

and I had to hurry and find him.

“Master! I’ll be back in a moment!”

“Ah… yes, very well.”

Leaving behind my master, muttering something about a late-blooming adolescence, I hurried after him, catching up before he’d gone far. My initial thought had been to apologize straightaway, but I’d never offered an apology in my life. How could I possibly do it right?

I stammered, forcing out the apology with great effort, only to bite my tongue in my nervousness. To make matters worse, I started hiccupping. I wanted nothing more than to disappear into the nearest hole, but his tone, though mild, held an edge, and the tension gripped me anew.

“…For what are you apologizing?”

For what, he asks?

Was it not obvious?

For all those days I treated him so coldly.

The thoughtless words I tossed off must have inflicted not a few wounds upon his heart.

Perhaps he even loathed the very act of meeting me.

So it was for everything.

From the day I met him until now, for all the ways I mistreated him, I felt I must apologize, or this guilt would never leave me.

He listened to my words, seeming to ponder them for a moment, then finally opened his mouth.

As his lips parted, a thousand thoughts crossed my mind.

I imagined him refusing to forgive me, even imagined him demanding my body as recompense for my actions.

Of course, he seemed different now, but the old him had earned the nickname “Lecherous.”

But his reply was not what I imagined at all.

He said it was alright.

It was long in the past, and since I hadn’t directly harmed him like others, he would forgive me.

It was a belated apology, to be sure, but somehow there was even a hint of gratitude in his voice.

I felt a pang of sorrow.

That such meager courage, resulting in such a paltry apology, could elicit gratitude from him.

In other words, no one had ever…

So, this was the first time such words had passed between them.

Had he sought to lighten the guilt that now weighed heavier upon her?

He cloaked her in the guise of a debt owed to him,

and perhaps because of that, the guilt felt somehow lessened.

A flicker of worry arose – what if he asked for something impossible? –

but was quickly replaced by the conviction that she could grant him almost any request.

Yet, was this truly enough?

Could she atone for her past failings with just this?

He answered her unspoken question with an almost breezy affirmation,

then drifted from the magic tower, leaving her pondering.

Of course, she didn’t believe she had fully absolved herself with merely this.

Her own conscience would not allow it.

That day, within the Archive – a repository of magical research,

where gathered the finest minds amongst the mages –

there stood a great sage, idolized by many,

studying how to deal with his daughter’s burgeoning adolescence,

alongside a woman who was determined to fulfill his request no matter what,

desperate to find some way to be of assistance.

“…Speaking of which, is my figure… truly so inadequate?”

Lost in such a frivolous thought,