34 Change in Tone

The status of the candidates varied from daughters of barons to archduchesses, but as they were all chosen as potential Oracles, the level of completion for their tasks was high across the board.

However, looking at the individual elements—the pair of outfits, the singing, and the accompaniment—flaws became more apparent as the social rank lowered. Whether it was a lack of manpower, financial resources, or simply cultural refinement and education… something was missing, and it was easy to see a deficiency in one element or another.

For instance, the melody might be good, but the tempo of the accompaniment and the singing wouldn’t quite match. The outfits might be plain, or simply a trendy pattern-made design. In particular, the ladies whose outfits expressed a unique worldview tended to be poor at singing, have monotonous accompaniment, or both.

“…The person just now had a very beautiful and smooth high range.”

By the time the first group of five had finished singing, Emilia had correctly grasped the situation of the other candidates and seemed to have calmed down. In fact, she even had the composure to remark on one or two good points of each task during the intervals between presentations.

As for the obvious flaws, such as the mismatch between the outfits of the candidate and the accompanist, she seemed to notice them—letting her gaze drift somewhat regretfully—but she made a point of not mentioning them. It was an attitude very much like her.

“Emilia-sama, you could easily master a pitch of that level.”

“That is… because Rachel-sama’s teaching was excellent.”

I nodded at Emilia’s humble response mixed with a wry smile. I thought she was being pointlessly over-eager, but it seems the educational materials we prepared were too good.

It may have been like giving a professional textbook to a beginner, I thought now. But in her case, since she had the foundation of having mastered an adjacent field that could be reapplied, it wasn’t a major problem. Probably.

According to Elise’s analysis, the selectors place importance on a comprehensive evaluation of the task. Even if one element is exceptionally outstanding, they consider whether the candidate can handle the next task.

Abandoning a weak element to double down on a strong one could be seen as crafting a viable strategy… but it seems a certain degree of versatility is required of the one chosen as the Oracle.

For the most part, that tendency aligns with what is required in the inner court and of royalty. If the political reason for the Oracle of Shanak’s existence includes the promotion of noblewomen to higher society and assisting their social success, it is only natural to demand similar qualities.

Since the task involves singing, each presentation does not take much time. Listening to the impressions Emilia occasionally shared, the remaining five presentations finished in an instant.

Just before Emilia, Stefania gave her presentation. Among the candidates from the first task, if there was someone Emilia would be competing against in terms of the quality of the task, it was likely Stefania. Since there are no daughters from the royal or ducal families in the current 2nd and 3rd years, she was also the next in rank after Emilia.

Her outfit pursued a direction similar to Emilia’s. It was a dress that avoided flashiness and limited exposure, adorned with delicate embroidery in bright red and gold thread.

However, the accompanist’s attire was different. To highlight the vibrantly colored Stefania, the jet-black outfit was stripped of all decoration; only when the hem of the long robe fluttered could one catch a glimpse of the lining color, which matched Stefania’s dress. His eyes were covered with lace, making his face difficult to see. According to the information gathered, he was the son of a northern noble—but.

When the 10th candidate finished and the second short break arrived, Stefania headed from the waiting area toward the side of the stage. She clearly glared at… if I wasn’t mistaken, she glared at Emilia.

“Emilia-sama, let us head to the waiting room for a moment.”

I had no intention of engaging in games outside the board. Before Emilia could notice the gaze, I decided to take her to the waiting room as previously declared. Emilia, who was starting to remember her nerves now that her turn was imminent, nodded firmly at my call.

Seeing this, the maid duo of Latka and Teera quickly turned toward the waiting room ahead of us. They went to prepare so they could fix any attire that had been ruffled or disturbed by getting in and out of the carriage before Emilia took the stage.

…In that, just, very brief moment.

The time it took us to leave the hall and enter the corridor—the time difference between us and the two who went ahead—was only as long as it took for a single door to open and close.

Inside the waiting room across that door, a dull thud echoed.

“Teera?”

As Emilia’s eyes widened and she reached for the door, my arm and Aslan’s blocked her.

“Emilia-sama, please step back! Leka, Vanita, get behind her. Aslan, go ahead.”

“Yes!”

I pulled Emilia’s hand away from the entrance of the waiting room to head back toward the hall. Today I am unarmed; I have to leave the guarding to Aslan.

Aslan drew his sword soundlessly and kicked open the slightly ajar door.

“No, Aslan!!”

Teera’s voice rang out sharply. Aslan leapt backward as if repelled, and while still glaring into the room, he lowered his sword point slightly with a look of resentment.

“Eliza-sama, return to the ha—”

“Of course, that won’t do.”

Slitheringly. An arm crawled out from the shadow of the door and grabbed Aslan’s face without hesitation.

“Eh—?”

Leka instantly squeezed in front of Emilia, who let out a faint voice of confusion, and I stood before her. My heart felt like it creaked with a sickening thud. Why is this man here?

With a finger pressed to a mouth curved into a crescent—Melchior turned toward us with composure.

“…If you move so violently, aren’t you worried your precious outfit might tear?”

His silky voice was even more like that father’s voice, the one that has been stuck in the back of my ears for years, never leaving.

“You—”

I clenched my molars, for it felt that if I opened my mouth, loathing like rancid oil would come pouring out in words.

“Quietly, now. I only wish to have a little chat… a very brief chat with the Archduchess of Lindal during the short break. That much should be fine, shouldn’t it?”

When he tilted his head, his long black hair slid over his shoulders and spread out.

…Loathing boiled in the pit of my stomach. This man was deliberately showing off the same trivial gestures that were so reminiscent of that father.

Just as I was about to say “Don’t mess with me,” the words were crushed into a faint groan. Behind Melchior, a young man appeared with a blade pressed against Teera’s throat.

…That young man was dressed in black. The same red lining and black lace covering the eyes as Stefania’s accompanist.

So that’s how it is.

A click of the tongue escaped me. Teera’s warning was because of this person’s appearance.

There was no guarantee that this young man was not Stefania’s accompanist. Because his face was hidden, his build was similar, and he was wearing the same attire, one couldn’t tell. That was why Teera and the others had hesitated to resist.

“Now, into the waiting room. It would be better for both of us to finish our business quickly, don’t you think?”

End of 257