“They said it was a girl?”

“And where did you hear that this time?”

“Is that okay?”

“What is?”

“I mean that kid. Is it really okay for her to keep staying at your house?”

“Drop it.”

As if he had already heard through the Duke of Jevillan that Arsian had brought the child home, Petro looked at him with a trace of concern in his eyes.

“They said you didn’t even know she was a girl.”

“......”

Arsian, who had been snapping back irritably, seemed to lose his words at that one and only kept tightening the furrow between his brows.

Because it was true. Even though he had been with the child the entire way from rescuing her until they reached House Sephra, he had not even managed to tell what sex she was.

“Is it really okay for her to keep staying at your house? I’m asking if that kid is going ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ to be okay.”

“What the hell is wrong with it? Why do you keep spouting nonsense?”

“Do you really want me to say what your house is like?”

“...No. Don’t.”

Looking at Petro’s face as he seriously asked back, as though he were fully willing to explain in great detail, Arsian uncharacteristically swallowed his words.

“Oh my, there’s a little girl at your house, Arsian?”

“Good grief... what’s going to happen to her?”

“She’s still alive, right?”

At the voices of Laila, Elisha, and Juella, who naturally inserted themselves into the conversation, the crease between Arsian’s brows deepened even more.

“You little—”

What about there being a girl at our house? What about it? Why is every last one of you reacting like this?

“What do you mean, me?”

What, are they saying I bully her or something?

“Look at that, look at that. He’s glaring at us.”

“S-surely you’re not bullying the child, right?”

“He probably isn’t bullying her. He might kill her with a look, though.”

...So I just need to kill you all first, then?

“You’re all being too much.”

Just as Arsian was about to let his anger loose, someone stepped forward in his place.

It was Camilla.

“Are you all looking down on Arsian right now?”

“N-no, sister, that’s not—”

“I’m asking if you’re all looking down on our Arsian because his personality is trash!”

“...What?”

“Our Arsian may have beaten up a whole lot of people. Does that mean it’s fine for all of you to gang up and bash him too? Just because other people call him a handsome piece of trash, does that mean you get to treat him that way too?”

“Um... sister?”

“Our Arsian’s personality may be absolute garbage, but he doesn’t hit kids. Is it really okay to trash him when you don’t even know him that well?”

...Feels like you’re the one who trashed me more.

I can’t even tell whether she’s defending me or insulting me along with them.

The others, all wearing uncertain expressions, still shook their heads at the sight of Arsian looking thoroughly pleased that she was fighting in his place.

Why did he only ever turn into a handsome idiot in front of Camilla?

“And don’t worry.”

Camilla quickly added, smiling brightly.

“Rio’s there.”

Unlike Arsian, who only looked puzzled, everyone else nodded in immediate agreement.

“Oh.”

“Right. Rio’s there.”

“Exactly.”

From that point on, not a single person showed any more anxiety or dissatisfaction about a girl staying at House Sephra.

“...What is wrong with you people?”

No, why is everyone suddenly making relieved faces the second Rio’s name comes up?

“So now you’re saying our whole house can be fixed just by that one little kid—”

“Yes.”

“That is exactly what we’re saying.”

“......”

Even Arsian, who had been staring in disbelief, soon clamped his mouth shut. Come to think of it, it didn’t really sound wrong.

It felt a little unfair, but if he imagined Rio suddenly disappearing, just as they said—

“......”

Yeah. It was probably better for him to stay quiet.

“But things feel kind of hectic in here?”

Camilla slowly tilted her head as she looked around the club room.

The club president and the others were all busy preparing something.

“Sister, you didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“There’s an event coming up soon.”

“An event?”

“The year-end academy festival!”

“Oh....”

“They always do it around this time of year.”

Come to think of it, she did vaguely remember now. There had been some kind of event at the academy every winter.

“Wasn’t it because the academy’s founding day is around this time?”

“Yes!”

And to match that, they held a festival. They let in outside guests, invited famous people, and all in all, it was a fairly large event. It was actually pretty well-known in the surrounding area.

Except...

Camilla had never participated even once.

Well, it’s not like that’s anything new.

Each class and each club prepared something for the festival. Some sold things, and others put on stage performances.

But nowhere—absolutely nowhere—had anyone ever included her in the festival plans. And Camilla had never wanted to force herself among people who clearly did not welcome her, either.

So of course, on festival day, she had always quietly stayed home instead of coming to the academy.

“They’re doing it again this year?”

At a time this chaotic because of Eva Faith?

“That’s why they’re even more determined to hold it, apparently. It looks like the imperial family is even sponsoring it this time.”

“The imperial family?”

“They think that at times like this, it’s better to have something that can draw people’s attention elsewhere and soothe their hearts.”

“Oh.”

At Petro’s explanation, Camilla finally nodded as though she understood.

Come to think of it, there really did seem to be a lot of events being sponsored by the imperial family lately. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

“Is our club doing something too?”

“Yes!”

“We’re doing something really fun!”

Laila and Elisha practically squealed as they continued, their faces full of anticipation.

“What are we doing?”

“A haunted house!”

“...A what?”

“A haunted house!”

“Doesn’t that sound unbelievably fun? Aren’t you excited?”

“......”

Maybe I should just skip participating again this year.

*****

“Here, this part needs to be darker!”

I never knew.

I had no idea our club president was such a horror fanatic.

“Don’t have the hand pop out so fast. Wouldn’t it be better if we added more blood?”

Club president John’s eyes were practically sparkling as he decorated the haunted house. He did not let a single tiny detail slide.

“Look at this! Isn’t this amazing? I made it really well, didn’t I?”

Watching him hold up a face model with half its head blown away and a grotesque shape molded into it, looking deeply moved by his own work, Camilla lightly shook her head.

Was this really the same person who normally could not even bring himself to say one sharp word to Laila or anyone else, and lived with no backbone at all?

How was she supposed to explain those firm, clear eyes when they were usually so vacant and harmless?

“Should we take out one of the eyes over here too?”

“What if we make blood pour down from the eye?”

“Camilla! You’re a genius! How do you even come up with this stuff?”

When you’ve spent decades seeing every kind of ghost imaginable, even ideas you don’t have start popping into your head.

“Haa...”

Watching the club members all bustling around with the festival preparations, Camilla let out a short sigh.

It’s not even a summer festival. Why are we doing a haunted house at a winter festival?

Back when she was in that other world, she had appeared on all sorts of variety shows, but there was exactly one kind she never went on.

Horror specials.

People assumed it was because she hated that kind of thing and got scared easily, but of course, the truth was the exact opposite.

My everyday life is horror.

On a program like that, she would at least have to act scared and scream a little for it to be entertaining, but there was no way any of that would happen naturally.

Of course, she could cover for it through acting, but she had never wanted to go that far just to appear on one. Besides, what if a snort—or worse, an involuntary laugh—slipped out without her meaning to?

What then?

For the ghost popping out to scare her, and for her too. What exactly were they supposed to do with that awkward silence?

“Where’s the mage? We need some magic here!”

“Put some light magic over here!”

“Here too!”

“Hey! I’m asking where the mage is!”

Camilla’s gaze shifted to one side.

Because there was someone there moving around just as busily as the club president—

no, even more busily.

“What are you doing? Hurry up and put some fog magic over here—!”

Because when it came to decorating a haunted house, magic was the most important thing of all.

Dolls that moved on their own, eerie light that spilled out when a door opened, bleak and chilling music.

Those kinds of effects absolutely required magic.

And of course, the one providing all that magic was Arsian.

Naturally.

“...Hey.”

Flinch!

Given that the other person was Arsian, barking orders at him was not exactly easy, but—

the problem was that everyone had gotten too absorbed in the work.

The club president and the others had been unconsciously shouting for the mage and ordering him around at full volume, and only when that low voice cut through the room did they finally realize it.

I-I must be insane.

What did I just say?

Did I just yell at Arsian? Tell him to hurry up?

The person they had just been ordering around and shouting at to move faster was none other than Arsian himself.

“O-on second thought, I-I don’t think this spot needs it after all.”

Step.

“N-no, really...”

Step.

“S-sorry...!”

At the sight of Arsian silently walking toward him, the club president squeezed his eyes shut without thinking, certain that his collar was about to be grabbed on the spot.