"…May I ask what you mean by 'dangerous'?" Lena Meyer's voice came through, cautious.

Few students stayed in their rooms on weekends like today. The campus had salons for nobles, club activities, and events like tea parties and small banquets. Regardless of age, nobles naturally engaged in socializing to solidify their networks and strengthen their power bases. Those who didn’t were typically either eccentric loners or didn’t need to bother at all.

Thankfully, the hallway was empty, and their lowered voices were still audible from where I stood, just around the corner. Slowing my pace, I paused to better gauge who Lena was speaking with. Knowing her conversation partner would make it easier to intervene.

"Sylvia Pengryphon is…"

But Lena's conversation partner hesitated, as if unsure where to begin. She seemed to know something about me, but was wrestling with whether it was wise to divulge it. Hearing her uncertainty, I felt a rush of confidence.

I stopped trying to muffle my footsteps and let the echo of my heels ring through the empty corridor.

"…Ah."

A flustered voice—Mia Crowfield’s—reached me as I rounded the corner and spotted her standing outside a door, slightly ajar. Only Lena’s gaze met us from inside, scrutinizing Mia with a hint of suspicion.

"Lady Crowfield," I greeted.

"…Sylvia."

At my voice, Mia took a step back, bowing her head slightly. I returned the gesture.

I felt that I’d grown closer to Mia, but she was still clearly conflicted about the idea of becoming friends with someone who’d killed her father. I could understand. I’d explained there was more to the story and told her to find me once she uncovered the truth, but enough time hadn’t passed for her to fully grasp it.

"Your Highness."

As soon as Lena saw me, she stepped outside, presenting a distinctly different demeanor from when she’d been addressing Mia. She shut the door firmly behind her, seemingly wary of anyone seeing her room’s interior.

…Did she realize how openly suspicious this made her look to Mia Crowfield?

Not that she seemed to mind.

"As I mentioned before, there’s no need to call me ‘Your Highness’ in the academy. It’s technically against school policy."

In theory, the academy’s rules promoted equality among students, discouraging titles and special treatment. Of course, from faculty to students, no one seemed to take this seriously.

"But…"

"Lady Crowfield."

"Y-yes!?"

Apparently, Mia hadn’t expected me to address her, nearly jumping at the sound of her own name. I looked at her calmly and asked quietly.

"You called me ‘Sylvia’ just now, didn’t you?"

"Uh, yes?"

She hadn’t even called me by name before, yet Mia had begun to refer to me simply as “Sylvia.” It meant she’d relaxed around me—at least a little.

"Did I ever tell you not to?"

"No, I guess not?"

She seemed uncertain, struggling with the sudden question.

I nodded, turning back to Lena Meyer. Her expression was still unreadable, but there was a hint of tension in her posture. Was she cautious around me, too?

"Then calling me by my name is perfectly fine. We already have another student in Class A with the same surname, so wouldn’t it be more efficient to avoid confusion by using first names?"

Not to mention, the title "Your Highness" also applied to Alice.

"…Understood."

Lena responded, though she appeared to hesitate. Despite her stoic pose, I sensed she wanted to say something. It seemed that, while she could put on a poker face, it wasn’t as complete as mine.

…Should I help her improve her expression skills? It’d save her from breaking character before I did.

"Do you have something you’d like to say?"

After a brief pause, Lena asked, "In that case, would you also call me by my first name?"

When she finally spoke up, she didn’t hold back.

"…Very well. If that’s what you prefer."

I could have sworn her eyes sparkled for a moment… but I chalked it up to my imagination.

I turned back to Mia Crowfield.

"Um, you don’t need to go that far for me!"

That was unexpectedly disappointing.

Besides, that wasn’t what I’d intended to ask.

It was a bit irksome that she’d feel free to call me “Sylvia” but didn’t think I needed to reciprocate with her first name. Regardless, what I wanted to know was “why she was here.”

"May I ask what brings you here?"

"That’s—" Lena started to answer.

"It’s… a personal matter!" Mia blurted out, interrupting.

"…"

"…"

Stunned by her outburst, Lena and I both looked at Mia, who blushed furiously. Her pale skin made the flush even more apparent against her dark hair.

"W-well, then, why are *you* here, Sylvia?"

A deflection?

Her attempt at changing the subject wasn’t exactly smooth, but since I’d already overheard enough of Mia’s intent, I decided to let it slide.

"I came here to speak with Lena… about something personal," I said, glancing at Lena. Her expression tightened. She seemed anxious about the fact that I’d sought her out.

"A… personal matter?"

Mia looked back and forth between us, trying to make sense of it. She probably thought I was scheming something again.

"Lena, you mentioned coming from a military family, correct?"

"Yes."

At my question, Lena adopted a rigid posture, as if showing pride in her background.

This era was indeed different. Nationalism and militarism were on the rise, and without television or fully developed radio systems, the public had no way to truly understand the grim realities of war. The romanticism surrounding service and heroism remained strong.

"Then… are you proficient with firearms?"

"Of course."

"I see."

I looked back to Mia Crowfield.

"Few students in the noble class are skilled with firearms. A gun may be simple to use, but to wield it as a primary weapon with precision is rare."

In the game, the only party member who used firearms was from a commoner background… Roti, if I remembered correctly.

"That’s why I wanted to assess Lena’s skill level. If we end up in practical situations, working alongside someone with firearms expertise could be advantageous."

Lena took a measured breath.

"…What do you think?" I asked, turning to her. "Would you be interested in joining me for a mission?"

"…"

Lena remained silent for a moment, then spoke with unmistakable conviction.

"I would."

Her firm answer allowed me to breathe a quiet sigh of relief.