I Start with a Bad Hand!

What on earth happened at the Ducal House, and what happened to Dietrich?

Unable to sort out the situation alone, I invited experts from various fields related to the issue to discuss. The discussion panel included a master of storytelling and public affairs expert, as well as an expert in the empire’s history.

“Okay, to summarize from the beginning, here it is.”

Two pairs of eyes were looking at me. I began to scribble small notes on the paper placed between us.

“There was a mysterious fire at the natal home of the former Duchess Rosamund Elexion. The first question is, who set the fire and why did they do it? I’d like to hear the opinion of the empire history expert on this part.”

“…”

“…”

The blonde expert, who had been listening to me with a straight back, seemed to notice our gaze belatedly.

“What, me?”

“Then who here knows the empire’s history better than you, Your Highness?”

“…Didn’t you take any empire history classes?”

In disbelief, he alternated his gaze between the two of us.

“I didn’t sign up for it. I thought many freshmen would take it.”

I answered.

“The exam date was the same as the play performance, so I failed. I planned to retake it when they did.”

The public affairs expert replied confidently.

“Even if not, we wouldn’t know such details about noble relations or disputes. That’s something only someone like you, who received education within the royal family, would know, isn’t it?”

Icarus now had a completely bewildered look on his face.

“I was just born around that time. Even after that, I wasn’t often in the empire, so I don’t know the minute disputes among the nobles.”

As our reactions noticeably dampened at his answer, the non-specialist in the empire’s history spoke with a sullen face.

“…If you dig through the royal records, something might come up, so stop making such disappointed faces.”

“Then let’s move on from this part for now… Anyway, at this time, the Ducal House loses the child born of the former Duchess. From what I know about this issue,”

I drew two rectangular houses on the paper. One represented the Ducal House, and the other an orphanage.

“When I was about five years old, the people of the Ducal House found me in an orphanage not far from the natal home of the former Duchess.”

Next to the roughly drawn houses, I drew two more people. One with black hair, one with white hair.

“Then, when I was about twelve, Roxanne came to the Ducal House. Along with a letter containing the confession of the orphanage director, who admitted to switching the children out of greed.”

This is the content I read in the original work. Fortunately, the two did not ask how I knew these facts.

“I heard that when the Ducal House went to the orphanage, the director had already taken his own life. And also set fire to the orphanage…”

I drew an X over the orphanage.

“But the question here is… ‘Is this something that an ordinary orphanage director could orchestrate?’ Switching the Ducal House’s child is a big deal, and surely there would have been double and triple checks at the Ducal House’s level. There must have been staff who witnessed it at the time, and there wouldn’t have been just one or two children living together.”

The tip of my pen tapped against the paper, creating small circular marks. I turned my gaze to the one remaining expert.

“Would anyone usually think of committing such a bold fraud against the Ducal House? Even if it’s for their child…”

At that moment, the master of storytelling and public affairs expert raised his hand. I pointed to the curly-haired hand-raiser.

“Go ahead.”

“I think you should enter the Ducal House.”

“No, not that.”

Then Agnes lowered her hand. Now, there were only three non-experts sitting in my dormitory. In the quiet room, the only sound was Agnes eating snacks. After a long crunching sound, the curly-haired expert asked,

“Where did you say your mother was from?”

“…The former Duchess of Elexion? We still don’t know if she is my mother.”

“Anyway.”

“I don’t really know… But why do you want to know?”

“To find out more about that orphanage. If it burned down when you were twelve, that means it was less than five years ago. We might find some information.”

Agnes said, brushing crumbs off her hands. Crumbs fell like rain onto the paper. Sweeping them off with my hand, I responded skeptically.

“But… If the Ducal House already investigated it, what more could we find now?”

“There might be parts they missed because they were looking from the perspective of nobles. Nobles can only see things from their own viewpoint.”

The public affairs expert replied sharply.

“Indeed, brainstorming together brings out something.”

I decided to set aside the minor question of what exactly we had uncovered and moved on to the next topic.

“Now, regarding the events since I entered this academy… This is assuming that I am indeed the Ducal House’s legitimate child. If an investigation reveals that I’m not, this becomes a moot point.”

With that, the two exchanged glances and raised their eyebrows.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that, but what’s the matter?”

“First, the issue of the portrait. It was odd from the start. A boy with blond hair and red eyes came to our estate and gifted me my portrait.”

At the mention of blond hair and red eyes, Agnes’s gaze shifted to Icarus.

“It’s not the prince. I confirmed it through the butler and, more importantly…”

I alternated my gaze between Icarus’s face and the portrait he had drawn of me, which was stuck to my window for strength training purposes.

“Hmm… I just know.”

“What’s wrong with the portrait? And why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Agnes suddenly asked.

“Oh, let’s talk about that later. There are several suspicious circumstances, but two things stand out the most: the paint used for the portrait and the people related to it. The paint is an old-fashioned type called ‘Leveta,’ which is no longer used. It was said that people who painted with it or owned such portraits showed symptoms similar to tuberculosis and then died.”

“You never told me about that.”

Icarus suddenly spoke up.

“I… I didn’t get a chance to mention it due to the circumstances.”

Icarus stared at me intently, but fortunately, Agnes’s question provided a reason to avert his gaze.

“Then, are your foster parents okay?”

“There’s something like an antidote, so they’re fine now. Anyway, it’s strange that the portrait was painted using such an old-fashioned technique… but the most puzzling part is that under the portrait,”

I paused briefly, hoping it wouldn’t sound too far-fetched.

“Roxanne was drawn?”

“…Roxanne? The Elexion princess?”

Agnes’s questioning echoed through the sudden silence that enveloped my desk.

“That’s odd.”

“That’s why I connected the two events. At first, I suspected the Ducal House sent the portrait….”

I glanced at Icarus.

“I heard that Roxanne also received a portrait painted with the same kind of paint.”

“What?”

Icarus asked in a quiet voice.

“Who told you that?”

I hesitated for a moment.

“…I heard it from Prince Elius. I ran into him while investigating in the Lymus district.”

At that, Icarus’s eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t mention that to me either.”

“…I don’t need to share every detail of my life with you. Anyway, when the Prince found out I was looking for that paint, he got really angry, so I don’t think he was lying.”

I turned my gaze from him to Agnes.

“More importantly, the Ducal House wouldn’t go through such trouble to set up something so complicated. So, if it wasn’t them, who else would send me such a portrait?”

After leaving the Ducal House, Dietrich had been living quietly in Heylem. If anyone had a grudge, it would logically be the Ducal House. But if it wasn’t them, who could it be? A large question mark was now drawn on the paper.

“One thing is clear…”

Agnes, who had been silent for a while, finally spoke.

“You should have mentioned this issue much earlier.”

From that moment, the expert discussion turned into a non-expert hearing.

“…What? How does it conclude like that?”

“If you had spoken up earlier, we could have investigated and found out sooner.”

I leaned back, moving away from them.

“At the time… I didn’t realize all these events were connected. Taken separately, they seemed like just unfortunate and unsettling incidents, but there are vague links like the portrait and the hair.”

“The portrait is related to the hair? How?”

Agnes asked, eyes wide in surprise. Icarus, looking puzzled, followed up.

“What hair?”

Ignoring the two piercing red eyes staring at my profile, I responded to Agnes. I hoped we could just move past this.

“The… the characteristics of the student who bought the hair and the person who left the portrait are similar. Both were described as slender boys. Most notably, although I can’t be entirely sure, the portrait appears to have been drawn by a left-handed person. The note left by the person who bought the hair also…”

I rummaged through a drawer and produced the note, showing the consistent slant of the handwriting to the right.

“It suggests that it was written by a left-handed person.”

“Someone sent the hair Dietrich sold back to his dormitory. That was really creepy.”

Agnes answered Icarus instead of me.

“…What did you sell? So the sudden haircut was because of that?”

I tried not to look at Icarus, who was now fully focused on me. Thankfully, Agnes continued speaking, giving me a reason to shift my attention.

“It’s really strange. More importantly,”

Agnes tapped the paper filled with my drawings. After scratching her head a few times, she added,

“There’s also the fire in the Lymus district.”

“…What?”

“How many fires have there been?”

Tap. Tap. Tap. Agnes’s rounded nails tapped the paper three times.

“Your mother’s estate, the orphanage, and Lymus district. It might not be a big deal if these fires were isolated incidents, but if they’re all connected as you say, isn’t it strange that there have been three fires?”

This was something I hadn’t considered. Agnes continued in a confused tone.

“Do fires of that scale happen frequently? Fires that completely burn down everything in the area?”

She didn’t need to say more. The most concerning point was that two of the three fires were confirmed arson. The cause of the remaining one was also suspicious. Why would someone who confessed to switching children and decided to end their life set fire to the orphanage as well?

This unexpected insight left me with mixed feelings. There was a growing certainty that these incidents might be connected and, simultaneously, an increasing uncertainty about the culprit.

“…But this all hinges on the assumption that I am the legitimate child of the Ducal House. I thought the culprit’s grudge against the Ducal House extended to me, but if I’m not the legitimate child, then that theory falls apart.”

“How is that investigation going? You remember the blue-gray gemstone I gave you.”

“Oh, that. Prince Elius…”

At this, Icarus, who had been quietly listening, handed me a piece of paper as if he’d just remembered it.

“The list of names you requested. But,”

I waited for Icarus to continue as I unfolded the neatly folded paper.

“You don’t need to look far. There’s a time mage with enough magical power to extract information from materials. She’s nearby.”

The first name that caught my eye on the paper was familiar. Both Agnes and I sighed simultaneously when we saw it.

‘Irene Horatius.’

At the top of the list of powerful time mages was the name of my friend.