Royal Knights Academy - Director of Public Relations’ Office

The atmosphere in the room was thick enough that I could’ve cut through it like butter. The smell of burning cigar permeated the room. The only sounds were the rhythmic clicks of the grandfather clock, the crackling of fire from the fireplace, and the rustling of a file that contained a report of my alleged panty heisting achievements.

The one we were standing before was Lord Randolph, the Director of Public Relations in charge of making sure the Royal Knights remained as prestigious and well-known as the day we heard about it.

“Stealing undergarments from a high-class dorm…” Randolph’s voice was a gravelly baritone. He squinted at the paper as he took a puff from his cigar. He let out the smoke with a sigh. I could hear his feet tapping impatiently under his desk. “Why would they send this report my way?”

“It concerns the academy’s reputation directly, Lord Randolph,” a stoic man said. “Director Mayarre is out of the capital at the moment, so we could only turn to you regarding this report.”

The one who stood beside him was apparently the Head of Security of the Royal Knights. The moment he looked away from the director, his eyes kept track of both of me with surgical precision.

“I see…” He took another heavy drag of his cigar before pushing it out with a heavy sigh. He placed his cigar down on a tray and leaned back in his chair, continuing to read the report.

Before the two of them stood the two of me. I kept both sets of my eyes lowered, hiding a mix of irritation and shame inside, which Carine’s face was doing a good job of hiding.

I was sure now that this was the worst position I had ever been in since I entered the academy, and that includes facing down Instructor Cornellia.

I’d managed to bluff my way past Markus and Ravilenna thanks to knowing information I shouldn’t have. But I was up against a director and the Head of Security here. And frankly, I had no physical evidence.

My alibi for the time of the “heist” was doing push-ups in my room… alone. Unless someone was keeping their ears stuck to my walls and door to hear me grunting, I doubt there were any witnesses of my presence during that time, let alone one willing enough to go up against a director.

I was a sitting dummy, ready to be obliterated from any angle. I braced myself for some lecture, a suspension, or perhaps a very humiliating expulsion.

But, as of now, the only thing I could do was wait for the director’s reaction, then, hopefully, come up with a reply that would convince him that I was innocent. A job that was easier said than done.

So, I prepared myself for any kind of question or comments that might come my way.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Do you know how much we value integrity in Royal Knights?”

“Are you willing to pay a fine of 10000 gold for us to look over this?”

I echoed line after line that might echo once the director finished reading that paper. Each one, I came up with a quick reply that would hopefully give me momentum to explain myselves.

However, what the director said next… wasn’t in my calculations.

He placed the papers face down on the mahogany desk with a definitive thump. He took one last, leisurely pull from his cigar, exhaled a cloud of gray smoke, and his entire posture... softened.

“Lady Carine,” he said, his voice rusty yet gentle. “Allow me to personally apologize for this blunder.”

Both of my bodies raised our heads and blinked in perfect, confused unison. “...Huh?”

“Clearly,” he continued, flicking ash into a wooden ashtray. “This is some form of mistake. A gross lapse in judgment by the reporting parties, and from our part for even considering it to be a real report.”

I mean, yes, it was a mistake. I was totally innocent. But I hadn't even opened my mouth yet.

In fact, the Head of Security guy looked at Director Randolph with eyebrows raised so high, they could fly off.

“Director, are you suggesting that—”

“—Indeed,” he replied to the security guy. “There simply is no way this report is real.”

The Head of Security gestured toward the file, his finger tapping the grain of the wood. “Director, with all due respect, the statements are consistent. Multiple witnesses placed him at the scene, with several other witnesses noting his defensive behavior regarding that bag when confronted. Protocol dictates that we at least interrogate—”

“—Protocols are meaningless in the face of common sense, Captain,” Randolph interrupted. “Someone from an esteemed family such as the Sareids wouldn’t dare to sponsor a student who would risk everything for a bag of laundry.”

“But the evidence—”

“The evidence is a farce,” Randolph said, waving a hand as if swatting away an annoying bug. “A clumsy one at that. I have spent countless years handling cases like this, Captain. This reeks of a poorly rehearsed play. To pursue this would not only be a waste of Academy resources, but a personal embarrassment to us for failing to see through such a simple lie.”

I stood there, paralyzed by the sheer efficiency of it. I had been ready to fight for my life, and here was Randolph, casually incinerating the entire case before I could even clear my throat.

This guy might not be that bad.

The Head of Security opened his mouth, likely to mention the ‘witnesses’ again, but one sharp look from Randolph silenced him. The Director turned back to me, his expression softening into something disturbingly apologetic.

“Lady Carine,” he said, his voice dropping to a reassuring hum. “I must ask you to forgive us for calling you and your retainer over for this trivial, useless matter. We won’t waste any more of your time. Please rest assured that I shall handle the cleanup personally.”

I blinked. Both of me.

“You’re... dismissing the report?” I asked as Carine.

“Not quite,” Randolph chuckled, a dry, papery sound. “We shall be erasing this report. As far as the Royal Knights Academy is concerned, this file never existed.”

He grabbed the file with a firm grip, then, in one smooth motion, threw it with precision straight into the air.

The Head of Security’s eyes widened and followed the arc of the throw, and so did I.

The file flew straight into the fireplace, landing squarely in the middle. Almost immediately, flames began to consume both the folder and the paper inside. The fire crackled louder than before as it enjoyed its new feast.

As soon as the silence settled once more, the director continued.

“Of course, that wouldn’t be all that we would do to make up for wasting your time.” He stood up from his chair, cigar still in hand. “I find myself quite concerned about the mental state of the students who brought this to our attention. To hallucinate such a vivid, yet impossible scenario… it suggests a certain instability, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, turning to us.

He didn’t wait for an answer, though, as he quickly turned his gaze to the Head of Security.

“Captain, I want a full audit of the reporting parties’ recent conduct. If they are capable of fabricating such a tall tale against a peer of Lady Carine’s standing, one has to wonder what else they’ve been lying about. We have no rooms for knights playing playwrights here.”

The Head of Security stiffened. But, eventually, he lowered his head and bowed. “I understand, Lord Randolph. I shall look into the matter personally.”

“Good, see to it that it is done.” Director Randolph turned back to me. “Rest assured, Lady Carine. By tomorrow, you and your retainer wouldn’t have to worry about anything. And once again, we apologize for causing you this much trouble.”

I felt a strange, cold shiver run down both of my spines.

I wondered what made the director so protective of me. I hadn’t even presented a single word in my defense yet, and he was acting like I was the victim.

I mean, yeah, I was the victim, so he wasn’t wrong to assume… But what brought this on?

But, it would be ungrateful of me to question this… I mean, this is a free get-out-of-jail card being handed to me, isn’t it?

“I... appreciate the diligence, Lord Randolph,” I said.

“Think nothing of it,” he replied, picking up his cigar and sitting back in his chair. “We will ensure the ones responsible for this mess will pay their dues. But for now, enjoy your evening, Lady Carine. And you too, Sir Feyt.”

I gave small nods and a few thank-you gestures before I turned to leave.

The heavy oak door clicked shut behind us, muffling the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock.

For a moment, I just stood in the hallway, wondering how I really got out of this mess with barely any effort from my end.

But the director promised that I wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. I do wonder what would befall them, though.

That was when a sound of a chair scraping inside the office caught my attention.

—

Inside the office, the elegant, gravelly tone of Lord Randolph vanished instantly, replaced by a frantic, high-pitched wheeze.

"Are they insane?! Captain, tell me, have our students collectively lost their minds?!"

The sound of a desk being slammed echoed through the door. Randolph's fingers were tapping against the desk in uneven rhythms.

"My Lord, the witnesses were quite insistent," the Head of Security began, his voice still trying to maintain its professional composure. "They claimed they saw the student, Feyt, entering—"

"I don't care if they saw him flying through the window carrying an axe! You don't accuse a Ducal House of petty theft!" Randolph’s voice cracked. "Do you have any idea what kind of precarious tightrope I walk to keep this academy from being a laughingstock? The fact that we failed to greet the First Prince’s fiancée twice this term is embarrassing enough!” He let out an exasperated, jagged sigh.

“House Sareid is one of our biggest benefactors. If the Duke hears that we dragged his daughter into a Public Relations office because of some... some perverted accusation, he won't just pull his funding. He’ll have us both on the guillotine by next week!"

A heavy tremble followed; it was the sound of a man who had just seen his life flash before his eyes.

"The sheer audacity," Randolph hissed. "To use this office for a schoolyard grudge against a Ducal heir... It’s brazen, suicidal even. If word gets out that the Royal Knights even entertained a slight against Lady Carine's household—regardless of whether it's true or not—our prestige becomes a joke."

"I… see your point, Lord Randolph," the Captain replied, his tone finally shifting from suspicion to a grim sort of realization. "The political fallout would be... catastrophic. But, for the sake of the record... do you still want me to investigate the claim? Just to be sure there isn't a shred of truth to it?"

"Investigate? Hah!" Randolph let out a sharp, hysterical scoff. "Oh, you’re going to investigate, alright. I want you to tear those reporting parties apart. Scrutinize every second of their lives. If they so much as stepped on a crack in the pavement, I want it treated like a crime against Setus itself!" he shouted.

His shout echoed throughout the room. Then, he paused, the sound of him collapsing back into his leather chair creaking through the wood.

"Forgive me, I was too emotional. I’ve dealt with enough nonsense for the past few months, and now I have to deal with this?” Randolph took another heavy drag of his cigar, letting the sound of it burning envelop the room. He let it out with a heavy sigh once more.

"I want the names of those students. If they’re someone not worth noting, do try to drag them out with their tails tucked between their legs. Perform any disciplinary methods that would satisfy the Duke’s daughter."

“Understood, Lord Randolph.”

The Head of Security gave a respectful bow before turning on his heels. As he exited the director’s office, he sensed something was off, like a presence or two had just been here moments ago. But after a careful look across the hall, no presence was found.

“Must’ve been my imagination,” he muttered, adjusting his collar.

And so, he set off down the hall, ready to find the students brave enough to dig their own graves.