Private Tutor to the Duke’s Daughter: Volume 13 (eBook)

Riku Nanano (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024
250 Seiten
J-Novel Club (Verlag)
978-1-7183-8622-8 (ISBN)

Infos

Three months have passed since the battle for the city of water. As winter nears the royal capital, Allen settles back into his old routine, tutoring the kingdom's best and brightest while overseeing the company that bears his name-until a draconic prophecy yanks him into the cutthroat world of court politics once again. His path to curing a student's magical ailment leads through the Sealed Archive, home to the kingdom's most closely guarded secrets. But Allen's old enemy, Head Court Sorcerer Gardner, holds the keys. To overcome aristocratic prejudice and fulfill the draconic prophecy, Allen will need something he's always avoided: an official post. And as it happens, the newly minted Crown Princess Cheryl is in the market for an investigator. His first case? The deaths of another student's parents and the plague they tried to fight eleven years ago.

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Prologue

“Oh, wow! Look, Tuna, a Leinster steam engine! I’ve read about them in books, but I’ve never seen a metal machine move in real life! I can’t believe my eyes!” cried a boy with pale-blue hair—my younger brother, Niccolò Nitti. He broke into a run as the train glided into the drab stop on the western edge of the Avasiek Plain.

“D-Don Niccolò, be careful! Don Niche, if you’ll excuse me!” Tuna gave chase in a panic. My brother’s pretty attendant, a daughter of the Solevinos, longtime servants of our house, had elven blood in her veins. Her adoptive father, Toni, had betrayed us for the Church of the Holy Spirit. Losing him in the final battle for the city of water must have come as a shock, yet she let no sadness show. My brother hardly deserved her.

Just under three months had flown by since our truce with the Leinsters. Even in the Principality of Atlas, toward the south of the continent, we were starting to hear the footsteps of winter. The shelter of the hills couldn’t shut out the cold wind completely, and I felt a chill even in broad daylight.

Niccolò and Tuna seemed well armored against the cold in matching coats, knit wool hats, scarves, and gloves. Still, they would be journeying to the Wainwright Kingdom’s southern and then royal capital on behalf of the House of Nitti. I had better warn them to take care of themselves before they set out. And that they were bound for the royal capital because the church might target them again.

Niccolò wasn’t alone in gawking at his first train; other children going to study in the southern and royal capitals shared his enthusiasm. Merchants and Atlasian officials also eyed the machine with interest. I spared them a glance before turning to check our immediate surroundings.

Beautiful black hair flecked with gray feathers distinguished the woman who would escort the pair to the royal capital with a group of Leinster maids. They had agreed to serve as bodyguards. I supposed I could afford to relax a little until the departure ceremony.

“I see the cold hasn’t dampened the little ones’ spirits” came a sudden remark from behind me.

I turned to find an unassuming man with round spectacles and hair a dusty shade of dark brown. Slit-like eyes and a plump build were probably his most remarkable features.

“Marchese Atlas,” I said. “I didn’t realize you were attending.”

This man bore the name Ray Atlas. The former Marchese Atlas had met an unexpected end during the battle for the city of water, and his rightful heir, the bold general Robson Atlas, had fallen fighting one of the church’s apostles, Io “Black Blossom” Lockfield, at the Fortress of Seven Towers. As a result, the third brother had assumed the title. He had made no public appearances prior to his accession, leaving both his character and his ability largely unknown. I had heard he was my age—twenty-five—but he looked older.

“Only to fill space at the ceremony,” the marchese replied without turning a hair. “And call me Ray. You know I’m marchese in name only. As things stand, no one in this principality outranks you, Don Niche Nitti. My whole house accepts that. After all, the man who forged a covenant with the water dragon gave you his seal of approval.”

I grimaced, remembering the utterly bizarre position I’d been placed in. One young man had driven off the vampiress Alicia Coalfield, a corpse dragon with my brother and Tuna at its core, and multiple church apostles to save the city of water, then exchanged a vow with the water dragon—Allen, the Brain of the Lady of the Sword. His words in the Leinsters’ southern capital council chamber came back to me:

“Niche, the Principality of Atlas is in your hands.”

While I spewed a litany of curses in my head for the umpteenth time, the marchese’s eyes grew yet narrower.

“We haven’t been at peace three months yet, and the Leinsters have already laid tracks from the heart of their under-duchy to our border as though it were nothing. During the war, Scarlet Heaven fired not a single proper spell in battle, and the Bloodstained Lady only waved her sword a bit at Avasiek and a few cities. The Smiling Lady, who they say came up with the griffin raids, never left the under-duchy’s capital.” He paused. “I suppose we should never have picked that fight.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said.

This string of battles had left appallingly deep scars on the League of Principalities. Atlas had seceded and started on its own path as a vassal nation with Leinster backing. The remaining four northern principalities were staggering under the economic toll of griffin strikes on ports, bridges, and highways. Three of the six southern marchesi had fallen to church assassins. Another, Fossi Folonto, had turned traitor and become an apostle. That left only the elderly Marchesa Rondoiro, who had lost her left arm, and Carlyle Carnien. And as for the city of water...

“Are you sure you shouldn’t put in an appearance in the royal capital?” the marchese asked offhandedly.

Watching my brother chat excitedly with Tuna in front of the train, I shook my head. I had no need to keep Ray Atlas in the dark; we shared a duty and an understanding. “Demands keep piling up. Extending the tracks to the Atlasian capital, enlisting griffins to map terrain, supporting those who lost family in the war, recruiting capable agents... I can’t afford to leave. I could appeal to the Brain of the Lady of the Sword, but he has at least as much on his plate as I do. Be wary of that man—he honestly believes that if he can do something, so can anyone else. Give him half a chance, and you’ll find yourself in my shoes.”

“That only shows how much he trusts you. Mr. Allen wrote that we should defer to you in everything and he’ll take responsibility. Rumor has it that Allen & Co.’s fiendish head clerk considers you a rival.”

I snorted. Allen & Co.—the common name for a joint commercial venture launched by the ducal houses of Leinster and Howard—had taken an active hand in rebuilding Atlas. It was fast gaining influence over trade in food, liquor, clothing, various raw materials, and just about everything else we needed. And I couldn’t deny that every letter I received from the girl who served as its head clerk included the words, “You’ll never beat me, got that?! Allen trusts me the most!”

How had it come to this? I ruffled my own hair as I recalled what the young man and I had said to each other when we’d reunited at the Leinsters’ main house two months earlier.

✽

“We’re to ‘cede the Avasiek Plain, recognize Atlas’s independence, relinquish any old tomes or spell books that the kingdom’s representatives request, punish those involved with the Church of the Holy Spirit, repatriate prisoners with all due speed, maintain the social standing of residents who fled to Leinster territory during the war, and restore Robson Atlas’s honor.’ That much seems fair, and I can accept the fine print as well. But...” I glared at the young man with dark-brown hair seated across from me. Allen, the Brain of the Lady of the Sword, wore a white shirt with black trousers. His hands were full of paperwork, which he’d been speedily processing while we spoke.

On a nearby sofa, a young woman lounged sipping tea, her long scarlet hair blazing in the sunbeams that slanted through the windows. Lydia Leinster, the Lady of the Sword and the duke’s eldest daughter.

“What is the meaning of this?” I demanded.

“Hm? Of what?” Allen paused his pen to give me a quizzical look.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know!” I snapped, grinding my teeth at his insufferable attitude. “What is my name doing in a supplementary article to an international peace treaty?! It says, ‘Niche Nitti shall be inducted by the Ducal House of Leinster’ plain as day!”

My words hung in the air for a long moment. Then, “Who knows?”

“Wh-Why you—”

No sooner had I reached for him in anger than blazing plumes filled the air. I shrank back and froze in spite of myself.

The young man spared me only a glance as he scattered the feathers with a wave of his left hand. “Lydia,” he said, “I wish you wouldn’t cast Firebird indoors.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I don’t see why you’re angry at me. Whatever am I to do with Your Highness?”

“No titles!”

To my alarm, the indignant Lady of the Sword flicked her left wrist, hurling a dagger of fire. A hit would prove fatal. Yet Allen made it vanish with a twirl of his pen.

Freak!

The self-proclaimed “private tutor” turned back to me and said, “Niche, the Principality of Atlas is in your hands. The news has already reached the heads of the relevant houses as well as His Royal Majesty, so those who care have their eyes on you. I’m told no one objected. I’ve also secured approval from Doge Pirro Pisani. And although your father, the former deputy Nieto Nitti, departed the city of water after taking public responsibility for his ties to the church, he gave his blessing as well.”

“What?! Wh-When did you...?”

Little time had passed since the church’s schemes had pushed the city of water to the brink of ruin. What’s more, Allen and his companions had remained there until mere days ago, tending to Marchesa Carlotta Carnien’s...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 22.8.2024
• Reihe/Serie: Private Tutor to the Duke’s Daughter
• Illustrationen: Cura
• Übersetzer: William Varteresian
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• Schlagworte: Academy • action • aristocrats • Comedy • Harem • Light Novel • Magic
• ISBN-10: 1-7183-8622-2 / 1718386222
• ISBN-13: 978-1-7183-8622-8 / 9781718386228