——This is a story about Elliot Howard, the eldest son of Count Dursvy when he was only six years old.
It was when Elliot's father took him to visit the Duke of Crockford's household, and there, he met ******.
****** was about the same age as Elliot, but he was physically weak and had left the castle to recuperate at his grandfather's house. For that reason, Elliot was brought to the house to be his playmate.
But the sight of ****** made Elliot uncomfortable.
Just like his small body, his mind was timid. His swordsmanship and horsemanship were terrible as well. Sucked at ballroom dancing, had a poor memory, and was bad at studies. No matter what he did, all of them would end up bad.
In addition, he could not speak well in front of others and would bite his tongue easily.
In fact, his servant was much more dignified in his behavior and speech than him.
How hard it is to be the master of such a useless little fellow, Elliot thought, even secretly feeling pity for his servant.
More than anything, Elliot was annoyed at the thought that the incompetent ****** might eventually rule over them.
So, at that time, Elliot ridiculed and mocked ****** in the typical six-year-old boy way of being mean.
Each time he did, ****** would hang his head down sadly and said.
"…I'm sorry I couldn't do it properly…"
How miserable he was. For someone who held a much, much higher position than Elliot.
Sooner or later, he would have to lead people.
But, despite having less ability than others, there was one thing that he knew a lot about. That was astronomy.
Though astronomy would be useless in the future, ******'s eyes would sparkle when he talked about the stars and read astronomy books in his spare time.
So, Elliot secretly hid ******'s cherished astronomy book in a tree behind the eyes of adults and followers.
Sure enough, ****** broke into half a cry and clung to Elliot, begging him to give his book back.
"Look, it's up in that tree over there. They aren't that tall, so it should be easy for you to get them, right?"
****** grew pale as he looked up at the tree. The boy, with his poor physical skills, could not possibly climb the tree on his own.
Knowing this, Elliot grinned and egged the boy on.
"Are you going to cry to your servant again, like you always do? Or do you want to ask an adult for help and said you can't do it by yourself?"
"…………….."
******* stood looking up at the tree intensely but eventually bit his lip tightly before starting to climb the tree.
However, his limbs were not moving properly. After just a little bit of climbing, ****** began to quiver and become motionless.
"What a wimp."
When Elliot muttered those words, ******'s trembling hand reached out for a branch… but he failed to grasp it, and ended up falling down.
Elliot remained silent and watched that scene because it wasn't much of a height, but he noticed something strange when the ****** fell to the ground.
Fearfully approaching, he saw a sharp branch stuck in the side of ******. The branch that had dropped on the spot where he had fallen had stabbed him, and a red stain was slowly spreading around the spot where the branch had pierced ******'s side.
Elliot screamed as he turned pale and called out the grown-ups.
"Do you realize what you've done?"
After saying that, his father punched Elliot in the cheek. Elliot made no excuses. He knew the whole accident was caused by his own thoughtless act.
The injuries on ****** were not very deep and not life-threatening. However, it was still an injury that required several stitches.
"You have given him a scar that will last a lifetime. No amount of your life can atone for that crime."
Having said that, his father was ready to give up his own head.
But then ******, who had just received medical attention, barged in.
"Please wait!"
Supported by his servant, ****** stood on his own feet.
Naturally, since he had just finished his suturing surgery a while ago, his complexion was pale, and he was sweating profusely.
"Elliot was not at fault, it was me who messed around and climbed the tree. Elliot was even trying to stop me, and risked his life to protect me."
Bullshit. At the moment ****** fell, Elliot was watching that scene with a smirk on his face. He thought for sure that fall would not injure him.
Even then, ****** had covered Elliot, allowing him to get away scot-free and made his father managed to keep his head as well.
Later on, Elliot barged into ******'s room and asked.
"Why did you cover me? That accident was my fault, wasn't it? it even made you injured badly because of me."
While Elliot wondered doubtfully if he was trying to curry favor with him, ****** gave a bitter face and said.
"… The reason I fell out of the tree was that I wasn't good enough at climbing trees. Therefore, it was my fault and I couldn't think of any reason to blame you."
His tone sounded almost as if he took it for granted.
His face seriously implied that it was his fault for not being able to climb the tree properly.
"…then, once that injury is healed, I'll teach you how to climb a tree."
As soon as Elliot mentioned that in a whisper, ******'s light blue eyes sparkled.
"Really? I'm so happy. I've been thinking for a while how much better the stars would look from up in the trees."
The smiling face of ****** who said that showed how truly happy he was from the bottom of his heart.
＊ ＊ ＊
The words of Monica Norton, which overlapped with the words of that boy, abruptly brought back memories of the past.
When Elliot asked her why she was not blaming him, Monica said.
—I'm sorry. I can't think of any reason to be angry.
Why did she not tell him that it was his fault for not explaining the rules?
Just like the boy at that time who said that with the same face.
Ah, now I understand. I guess that's probably why I've always been drawn to Miss Norton.
While thinking about this in the corner of his mind, Elliot moved the white bishop.
And Monica played her next move without pause.
Same as before, Monica played her pieces unusually fast since Monica rarely took a long time to think. When Elliot moved a piece, she immediately made the next move.
Eventually, when Monica moved the black queen, the game was over.
Elliot stared at the board then opened his mouth.
"…Stalemate, huh."
Elliot didn't give her a handicap this time, in fact, he got the first one to move, but against a girl who had only played chess a few times before the game ended up in a draw.
And now, that girl was staring at the board without any expression of regret or happiness on her face. She was probably analyzing the game she had just played.
"You know, playing chess can show one's personality."
"… Eh?"
At Elliot's murmur, Monica blinked at him.
Elliot scrutinized his droopy eyes in response and shrugged lightly.
"You see, in Cyril's case. his chess style is very simple: protect the king. He's what we call a hard defensive type. But you are the opposite."
Strictly speaking, Monica's chess style was somewhat different from aggressive.
To put it simply, it was thorough, logical, and efficient.
"Maybe you would even use the King as bait to win."
To Monica Norton, King's pieces and Pawn's pieces have equal value.
For this reason, she can sacrifice any piece without hesitation if it will increase her chances of winning, even a little.
—That's exactly why her methods were so merciless and cruelly strong.
While the current game ended in a draw, Monica had only played three chess matches under her belt and this was her third time.
Should Monica gain further experience and learn to play the game… she would become a fearsome monster.
Such a premonition sent a shiver down Elliot's spine.
Despite her overwhelming talent that even Felix can't measure, she has a shy and demeaning personality—that imbalance was simply too unsettling.
He was observing Monica closely when she opened her small mouth.
"…As for your chess, Lord Howard."
"Oh? An amateur tries to talk about my chess?"
"…you seemed to be fixated on the rank of the pawn."
Elliot's eyebrows arched in a twitch.
What Monica pointed out was something that had been said to him before by his teacher.
Elliot's style of chess was overly fixated on the rank of the pieces.
The queen should be played like a queen, and the pawn should be played like a pawn… in a formation where the higher ranking pieces should be put to use.
In a sense, it could be called chess as opposed to Monica, who did not find any difference in its value as a piece.
Pointing at Elliot's lined pawn, Monica said.
"In this game, there were moments when your pawn could be promoted (*a pawn that reaches the far end of the enemy line can become a queen or other piece). But you did not opt for promotion, which was the best move at that time."
Elliot secretly marveled at how she had noticed.
Indeed, Elliot always tried his best to avoid a promotion move.
"…I don't like the rule of promotion."
Elliot pinched one of White's pawns and placed it back in his own board.
Soldiers who can reach the farthest end of the enemy lines can get promoted… That rule was something Elliot hated to death.
"I had an uncle who fell in love with a commoner and made her his wife. He said she was a pure and kind-hearted woman. However, she ended up embezzling my uncle's money. Felt betrayed, my uncle… hanged himself off."
The person who first found his uncle hanging from the ceiling, swaying, was Elliot, who had come to learn chess from him.
Almost all the money was gone from his uncle's house. When the wife, a former commoner, heard of his uncle's death, she seized all the money and ran away—without mourning the man who had driven her husband to suicide.
"Do you get it now? A commoner should act like a commoner, and a noble should act like a noble. If you overstep the bounds of your status, there will always be someone who would be suffering misfortunes."
That's why Elliot detested commoners who didn't know their place in society. When he saw someone risen to a high position, he felt repulsed.
At first, Elliot felt the same way about Monica.
Despite being a commoner, Monica Norton enrolled in Serendia Academy and became a member of the student council. And such Monica was an eyesore for Elliot… up until now.
…I guess sometimes there are some people…who have an overwhelming talent that transcends the boundaries of their status.
The question of where to place such a person remained unanswered for Elliot.
So, with a bitter look on his face, he decided to give her a word of advice.
"…Miss Norton, I will hold off for the time being on what your evaluation is and where your standing is."
"O-Okay…"
"But I have a word of advice. A commoner born with exceptional talent is often envied by the incompetent or taken advantage of by the cunning. I know one person who had his life ruined that way."
Elliot's words made Monica's face grow pale and tense.
"You have to be careful how you conduct yourself. I'm sure you're going to be in the spotlight a lot from now on."
"…eh?"
Elliot wordlessly gestured at the blackboard to a puzzled Monica.
Prof. Boyd was writing something on it.
[Chess Tournament, Selected Participants]
Front Player: Monica Norton
Middle Player: Benjamin Moulding
Captain: Elliot Howard
Monica's face went white right down to her lips.
"Che… Che-Chess Tournament!?"
"On the last day off, four days before the school festival, we're going to invite representatives from other schools to join us for a chess tournament. I assume you see those events in the budget proposal."
"B-B-B-B-B-But… W-Why me!?"
As Monica's eyes widened to their limit, shaking uncontrollably, Prof. Boyd strode up to Monica's side.
He—a big skinhead with the dignity of having been through many battles—tapped Monica on the shoulder with a hand so big that it could have easily crushed her face.
Then, in a low voice with no expression, he left a few words.
"I'm counting on you."
"I ca-ca-ca-ca-ca-ca-ca…"
Probably wanting to say, "I can't," Elliot shrugged his shoulders and told Monica.
"Well, just take it easy, Miss Norton."
Monica was still convulsing while repeating the same words, ‘I ca-ca-ca-ca-ca-ca'. Her consciousness must have been gone by half.
