The night of the day Vanarde Yure arrived at Alabaster Hall.

  On an ordinary evening, Celeste and Lady Biala would dine first, followed by Head Steward Reinbardt and Valet Ronovaar, and only then would the rest of the household staff take their supper. Tonight, however, was different — a welcome dinner for Yure, and everyone gathered together in the great dining hall.

  "H-how do you do, everyone. My name is Vanarde Yure. I am deeply honoured to have been received into this household through the grace of Lord Celeste. I am not much to speak of, but I ask most humbly for your continued guidance and instruction."

  For all that talk of guidance and instruction — Yure held the position of Celeste's personal tutor, was a retainer rather than a servant, and had been granted the rank of Menus into the bargain. The only people in any position to pull rank on him were Celeste himself, and—

  "Menus Yure. You are a retainer of the illustrious Regis Celeste — and however junior your rank, you are a noble of this kingdom. If you cannot carry yourself with dignity, you bring disgrace upon your lord, Lord Celeste himself. Hold your head up. Conduct yourself accordingly. Is that understood?"

  "Y-yes, my lady!"

  —the formidable Lady Biala, senior in rank Reinbardt, and on occasion, Arimecalises. That was roughly the extent of it.

  Even so, being new to all of this — and having spent so long unable to feel any confidence in himself — Yure couldn't quite let go of that deferential posture.

  "Oh my, how frightening. Yure, allow me to introduce you — this is the true power behind Alabaster Hall: the Lady Biala herself."

  "My lord? I would ask that you keep your teasing within reasonable bounds?"

  "Yes, yes. Now then — introductions can wait until we're not eating. For the moment, let us celebrate the fact that Menus Vanarde Yure has joined this household as family. Welcome — Menus Yure!"

  "Welcome!!"

  That he had gone, in the space of a single afternoon and evening, from impoverished assistant lecturer and failed magician to retainer of Regis Celeste — great noble, man of vast wealth, and wielder of powers no one could explain — still hadn't quite sunk in. Yure sat amid the noise and warmth of the welcome dinner, and felt, still, as though none of it were quite real.

  After the dinner wound down — the kitchen team clearing dishes and returning to their quarters, the guard team heading back to their posts or retiring to the staff quarters — Celeste gathered the male members of the household staff in the sitting room, Reinbardt at the head of the group.

  "We can make introductions to everyone else in due course. For now, let's at least get acquainted with this group. Reinbardt — would you start?"

  "Head Steward Reinbardt Nokoi. I serve at his lordship's pleasure, and hold the rank of Vicari. In addition to running the household, I oversee the management of the Monopoly Corporation. Pleased to meet you."

  "Valet Ronovaar. Pleased to meet you."

  "Footman Roderick, here! Good to meet you!"

  "...I have the honour of serving as his lordship's driver. My name is Retes. I am also the twin brother of this idiot."

  Quite a colourful group, Yure thought, bobbing his head in a little bow each time a new face was introduced.

  "Well... I understand how you feel, but you really ought to get comfortable with your own rank. Otherwise — you know?"

  "Y-yes. I'll bear that in mind."

  Though, after so many years of making himself small, getting comfortable was easier said than done.

  "With that said — I did mention I'd be asking you to give lectures on the fundamentals of magic theory. Before we get to that, I'd like to confirm a few things. First — is there anything stopping you from teaching that to people other than me? Some kind of Academy secret, perhaps?"

  It was a reasonable question — specialised knowledge often came with restrictions on who it could be shared with.

  "Oh, no, not at all. It's quite possible to become a magician without ever attending the Academy — some go straight to apprenticing under an established practitioner, starting as an assistant from the very beginning. The Academy isn't the only path."

  "Ah, right. And if it had been off-limits to teach outside the Academy, the Headmaster wouldn't have sent you in the first place."

  "Exactly. I wouldn't say I have any particular gift for teaching — but if I can pass on even a little of what I know to more people, I'd be glad to."

  "Good. Next question, then. Could you teach general subjects as well — not just magic theory? Tutoring, that sort of thing?"

  In Tusita — Fellideria in particular — elementary education was, in principle, available regardless of social standing. In practice, however, it carried no obligation, which meant that for families in poverty, even that most basic level of schooling was often out of reach. Secondary and higher secondary education was largely delivered through private tutors or private schools, making it the near-exclusive preserve of the nobility and the prosperous. University-level education beyond that was, simply, for those who felt they needed it.

  "Oh — yes, I can manage general subjects well enough. Though it's rather embarrassing to admit — I worked as a private tutor for noble households to pay my way through the Academy."

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  "...You kept the top position in your year for three years, while earning your own tuition fees? That's nothing to be embarrassed about. You could walk rather tall about that. Honestly — 'exceptional student' doesn't come close."

  It was mortifying, being praised like that to his face — Yure wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor. But at the same time, somewhere underneath the embarrassment, it felt as though someone had finally looked at all those years of effort and said: that counted.

  "Lord Celeste..."

  "Now then — I've already hired you as my personal tutor and Magic Theory Consultant, and I'm not exactly in a position to apologise for adding to your workload, but — if there are any among the household staff who want to learn, would you be willing to take them on as students? Oh, and Roderick and Retes — you two are mandatory. Don't even think about running."

  "H-his lordship?"

  "Ugh — no!"

  Roderick made his customary noise of protest, bracing for the customary knock on the head — but the expected fist didn't come. He blinked, suddenly at a loss.

  "Retes."

  "Y-yes?"

  "Hit him."

  "Oh. Yes, sir."

  — thwack —

  "Ow."

  Yure stood watching this exchange with his mouth open, not entirely sure what he was witnessing. Reinbardt, expression unchanged, offered a quiet word of reassurance.

  "You'll get used to that. It's something of a household tradition."

  "I — sorry, what?"

  A Regis — one of the highest-ranking nobles in the kingdom — larking about with the servants. As a household tradition. And now arranging a tutor for said servants.

  Nothing about this fit with anything Yure understood about how the world worked. And yet here it was, happening directly in front of him.

  "You two — you both received schooling up through secondary level, yes?"

  "How did you know that...?"

  Retes asked the question before he could stop himself. Celeste gestured at Roderick.

  "Him. All brawn, yes — but not uneducated. The Royal Guard doesn't take just anyone, after all."

  "I... suppose that's true."

  "I won't ask why it stopped there. I'm sure you had your reasons. But — for your sake, and for mine as your employer — I'd like both of you to have a proper higher education under your belts. Reinbardt — that includes you."

  "Me... as well?"

  The sudden turn in Reinbardt's direction caught him visibly off guard.

  "Yes. I intend to have you managing the Monopoly Corporation and any number of other ventures going forward. You're the third son of a Marc family — you've had secondary schooling, I take it?"

  "You're correct."

  "But for the kind of management work I have in mind, secondary schooling and a stint in the Royal Guard will only get you so far. There'll be gaps eventually. Accounting, business administration — something along those lines. Whatever looks most useful. Is there a relevant programme at the university?"

  "Business administration — as an academic discipline?" Yure, being at this point the best-educated person in the Tusita contingent, fielded the question before anyone else could. "Accounting, at least — the School of Administration offers related courses."

  "Good to know. Thank you. Right — Reinbardt, you heard. Start looking into the School of Administration. Mid-programme entry must be possible? Roderick and Retes — you two as well. You're young. You're not planning to spend your whole lives in service to someone else's household, are you? Oh — and Ronovaar, if you're at all interested, the offer extends to you."

  The entire room went still.

  What kind of employer tells their staff to study, and I'll fund it?

  "We are, of course, bound to follow any order you give, my lord. But our proper role is service to this household. We couldn't simply let our duties—"

  "Yes, I thought you'd say that. Here's the thing, though — the workload in this house is a fraction of what you'd find anywhere else, isn't it? Between the appliances and the building itself being — shall we say — somewhat ahead of its time for this world? I'm asking you to put that freed-up time to use. And frankly — " Celeste's gaze drifted to Yure — "when I have someone here who held the top position in his year for three years while paying his own tuition, I'm not going to let you claim it's impossible when I'm offering to cover everything."

  That settled it. There was no way out.

  And it was Reinbardt himself who had said bound to follow any order. He had no one to blame but himself. There was the Royal Guard conditioning, yes — but deeper than that, he suspected, it was the blood of House Chiono, that old warrior family running through his veins. He had never cursed it quite this thoroughly before.

  "B-but Yure is the brilliant type — I'm just all brawn, it's not going to work for me—"

  Roderick was casting about desperately for any foothold, but Celeste had already closed off every exit.

  "Right, and that's why I'm telling you to learn something from the man. Absorb a little of that brilliance by proximity, if nothing else. Oh — that's probably not a phrase that exists here, is it. The point is: stop spending your free time thinking about how to have fun, and spend a bit of it looking up to that genius over there. Let's see some of that famous brawn applied to something mental."

  "Ngh..."

  Roderick was still rummaging through his vocabulary for some kind of counterargument when Reinbardt's hand landed on his shoulder. And stayed there.

  You're not going anywhere.

  The message in that look was perfectly clear. Roderick turned in silent desperation to his twin — and found no help there.

  "Retes — I suspect you've had thoughts about all this. And consider: once this country starts producing automobiles, someone will need to establish a framework for driver training, draft the relevant legislation... and as the first driver in the kingdom, you'd be the obvious person to call on. If you end up involved in national policy, you'll want the education to match. Even if no one else minds, you'd feel the gap."

  "It's more than I could ever have imagined — but you're not wrong. I'll gratefully accept your generosity."

  Roderick watched his twin brother acquiesce without a trace of resistance, and felt what little remained of his hope flicker out.

  "There you go — take a leaf out of your twin's book. All that talk of brawn this, brawn that — I happen to believe you're capable of more, if you apply yourself. I'm not sending you to school. I'm saying you can learn right here."

  "...Yes, sir," Roderick managed, in a voice that seemed to be fading from the world entirely. Reinbardt's grip on his shoulder had not loosened.

  "And Ronovaar — you were going to say 'I'm getting on in years', weren't you. The offer stands regardless. You have time to yourself when I'm away, at the very least. Think it over at your leisure."

  "Well, now. I must say — you've got me there."

  "And for any of the maids or the guard team who want to learn — same goes. Yure — I apologise for volunteering your time without asking."

  Yure, taking all of this in, found he could not quite believe what he was seeing. An employer who wanted his staff educated — who thought about their futures — and who then turned around and apologised for adding to his tutor's workload. He was fairly certain he had never seen anything like it.

  "N-not at all! Please don't give it a thought. If it's what my lord commands, I shall do as commanded."

  "Ah — about that. The 'if it's commanded I'll obey' mentality — I'd ask you to leave it at the door in this house. I intend to avoid giving unreasonable orders, but I'd rather all of you felt free to push back, disagree, and speak your minds. And Yure — you're a retainer. Don't forget that."

  "In that case, I quit—"

  "Denied. Roderick, you specifically — unreasonable is perfectly fine."

  "That's not fair!"

  What on earth was this atmosphere? In the household of one of the kingdom's most powerful nobles?

  Given the years of grinding poverty and the pittance of a salary he'd survived on, Yure couldn't honestly say he minded however many tutoring hours were piled on top of his other duties. But in a different sense entirely — he had the faint, lingering feeling that he had been brought somewhere rather extraordinary. And possibly alarming.