The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent – 51
EP.51 Interlude
Following someone wasn’t an easy task.
People were surprisingly perceptive, reacting sensitively to even the smallest sounds around them. Especially at night, when there was little movement, those sounds were much more noticeable.
Of course, there were plenty of spells that could minimize those sounds. They all required using large amounts of expensive Marmaros, but if there was a real need to observe someone secretly, Mia Crowfield wouldn’t hesitate to bear the cost. Especially when the person in question might have killed her father.
The problem was, if Sylvia Fangriffon really did assassinate the count and escaped without a hitch, then even using these methods, there was a high chance of being detected.
Mia Crowfield was a mage, not an assassin. Although she had received some training, it was to expose the weaknesses of the imperial family as a noble, not to eliminate assassins.
Moreover, Mia had observed Sylvia Fangriffon up close during the mock battle. Despite firing into a blindingly bright area, Sylvia had effortlessly taken down one person with each shot, never once hitting an ally. The sight had shocked Mia. It had been so precise and unerring that Mia couldn’t help but wonder if some kind of magical influence was at play.
Wearing the softest shoes she had, dressing in the darkest clothes she owned, choosing pants over a skirt, and even donning a mask, Mia knew she looked ridiculous. She was also well aware that no excuse would work if she got caught.
But even if she got caught…
Well, she’d like to see them try and kill her. Mia had no intention of dying alone. If it came to that, she’d at least leave behind a serious wound before she died.
With that kind of determination, Mia had started tailing Sylvia Fangriffon from the early hours of the morning—no, perhaps it was still more accurate to call it the dead of night.
Mia didn’t know much about Sylvia’s daily routine, so she had to observe it carefully, starting with confirming how Sylvia lived her life.
“…At this hour?”
Thankfully, Mia had chosen to begin her watch in the middle of the night, just in case. Sylvia had risen far earlier than expected. It made sense that she’d move at such an early hour if she had something covert to take care of.
But…
“…Huh?”
If it was something that needed to be done so secretly that it required moving at dawn, shouldn’t she be more cautious of her surroundings?
Sylvia Fangriffon, who now sat on a bench as if waiting for a carriage, didn’t seem to be paying attention to her surroundings at all. No, more accurately, she seemed even more absent-minded than usual.
Sylvia Fangriffon was…
Dozing off on the bench, her head bobbing as she fought against sleep.
“What?”
And she looked incredibly defenseless. If someone were to attack Sylvia Fangriffon, she would be caught off guard.
…No, that wasn’t right.
Maybe even this was a trick. Mia shook her head, reminding herself not to be fooled. Right. If this was an act, it wasn’t entirely out of the question. It could be a tactic, projecting an air of carelessness while remaining extremely vigilant, thus lulling any potential tail into a false sense of security.
…But if Sylvia Fangriffon knew she was being followed, wouldn’t it be more effective to attack the stalker instead?
“Huh?”
Sylvia, who had been nodding off, suddenly jerked her head forward as she almost fell over. Startled awake, she rubbed her eyes. From Mia’s position, it wasn’t easy to see, but Sylvia’s eyes were probably red and bloodshot by now.
Seriously, what was this?
Was this really the same Sylvia Fangriffon, someone so meticulous that you’d think she wouldn’t even bleed if you cut her? Even when eating delicious food, she never let her expression change—Sylvia was known as an Iron Lady. Of course, Alice Fangryphon always claimed there was something else behind Sylvia’s stone-faced demeanor, but Mia had never believed her.
“Yawn…”
“Huh?”
…Yet watching Sylvia now, yawning without even bothering to cover her mouth, Mia’s certainty began to waver.
Sylvia drew her coat closer, as if the early morning chill was biting, and yawned deeply again before snapping her head up and glancing around as if she realized she had let her guard down. The whole scene made it seem as though she was trying to hide that her usual unreadable expression was a mere façade.
“…”
Was she really an assassin?
No, no.
Mia shook her head again, more forcefully this time.
This could be an act. An act to shed the stigma of being an assassin. After all, she was still a princess.
Slap. Slap.
Hearing that sound, Mia quickly looked at Sylvia, who was slapping her cheeks with both hands as if to shake off her sleepiness.
“…”
At this point, Mia was beyond shocked.
This was so different from the usual Sylvia Fangriffon she knew.
…Could it be that Sylvia didn’t even notice Mia’s presence? Sure, there was some distance between them, and an ordinary student likely wouldn’t sense Mia trailing them.
In fact, Mia had planned this out carefully, fully expecting Sylvia to detect her at some point. If Sylvia noticed her, she would surely confront Mia. And if Mia provoked her enough, perhaps she could uncover some clues. That had been her plan.
“…Ah.”
Could it be…? Was this all part of Sylvia’s own plan?
While the imperial family had exploited the rumor of Mia’s father’s assassination to some extent, they had never publicly acknowledged it. The official stance was that the count’s death had been a tragic accident, and the imperial family had publicly expressed their condolences. But because of that, they couldn’t openly present any evidence. Officially, the imperial family never admitted to the assassination. They let the nobles tremble in fear, yet when confronted, they simply denied it. This was their stance.
Mia remembered her mother once having a conversation with the Emperor. She hadn’t overheard the details, and her mother never revealed what was discussed. All her mother had told her was that the Emperor had killed her father.
So…
“…”
Sniff.
Sylvia Fangriffon sniffled loudly, perhaps thinking no one was around to hear her.
…
Was it truly possible that this woman had murdered her father? Was she really a ruthless killer, who not only slaughtered her father but also blew up several carriages, causing the deaths of many innocent people?
Could it be that Mia had misunderstood?
Watching from afar as Sylvia heard the approaching sound of a carriage and reverted to her usual impassive expression, Mia Crowfield found herself deeply questioning everything.
*
Monday morning.
“Your Highness.”
As soon as Mia left the dormitory and entered the classroom, she headed straight to where the two princesses and the royal princess sat. Bowing slightly, she greeted Sylvia Fangriffon.
“Did you sleep well last night?”
Mia had spent all of Sunday thinking about the Sylvia Fangriffon she’d observed the night before but still found no clear answers.
“Mia, how are you doing?”
It was Alice, the “real princess,” who responded to Mia’s greeting first.
“Thank you, Princess. I’m doing well.”
Mia replied.
For someone as quiet and reserved as Mia, starting conversations, especially early in the morning, was a bit overwhelming. Approaching a group and initiating a greeting was even more challenging.
But Mia had something to confirm.
She needed to know if the Sylvia Fangriffon she saw in the early hours of Sunday was the real Sylvia or not.
No matter how consumed with revenge someone might be, no one could go two nights without sleep. Therefore, Mia figured that the best way to confirm Sylvia’s state was to check her expression as early as possible on Monday morning. If she showed even a hint of fatigue, Mia would feel somewhat reassured.
“…”
But Sylvia Fangriffon, who gazed blankly at Mia, wore the same stoic expression as always.
“Sylvia, no matter how tired you are, you should respond to someone who greets you first.”
…Tired?
Mia scrutinized Sylvia’s face once more after hearing Alice’s comment. Not even the slightest trace of fatigue was visible in her expression. It was the same blank face as always.
“Good morning.”
Even her voice showed no signs of exhaustion.
“Watching the two of you is really fascinating.”
Charlotte remarked.
“Fascinating? How so?”
Alice asked, curious.
“Well, from my perspective, Sylvia always has the same expression—completely neutral. But you, Alice, can read her expression like it’s nothing.”
Charlotte explained.
…Could she really read it? Mia, who had witnessed a different expression on Sylvia Fangriffon’s face the previous night, found herself questioning this too. Was Alice truly reading Sylvia, or was she just convincing herself she could?
“Hmm, there were quite a few people in the imperial family who annoyed Sylvia. Sylvia’s reactions aren’t just that one neutral expression. She gets annoyed or… oh, right, mostly she’s annoyed, but still, the reactions she shows me are much better than the ones she shows to the other siblings.”
Alice snorted with a hint of pride.
“….”
Sylvia Fangriffon turned her head toward Alice. Her face remained expressionless, as usual, so it was impossible to tell what she was thinking.
“Is that so?”
Charlotte said, still looking confused as she glanced back at Sylvia’s face.
“I’m telling you, it’s true.”
Alice insisted.
“…”
Mia also glanced at Sylvia’s face. However, the expression she had witnessed the night before was nowhere to be found.
*
… Was I too careless?
Sure, I maintained a neutral expression most of the time, but I did treat Alice, Lucas, and Jaden differently. I was curt with Lucas and Jaden, and more cordial with Alice.
But how could I not be? Lucas and Jaden were already adults when I first met them, whereas Alice was just a child at the time. She was the same age as Claire. Watching her struggle during her early childhood, being pushed aside by more competent siblings, made me want to treat her kindly, even without considering the fact that she was a part of the protagonist group in the original story.
Still, aside from Lucas, who would suddenly draw his sword at me, and Jaden, who liked me a little too much, I think I got along fairly well with the other two. No, maybe Alice had reached the point where she could read my expressions because of these various reactions.
“…”
Though I didn’t make eye contact, I could tell Mia Crowfield was staring at me intently.
What’s with her?
We hadn’t crossed paths all weekend. Could one of the Emperor’s other children have stirred up some trouble behind the scenes?
“Hmm.”
Charlotte, who had been silently observing me, hummed thoughtfully and then said,
“I still don’t get it.”
Exactly.
If someone took a photo of my face, even I wouldn’t be able to tell what I was feeling.
How could Alice, an outsider, possibly read my expression?
…Maybe Alice has some hidden ability.
As I watched Alice smiling cheerfully, I thought it might not be a bad idea to investigate that.