In the bright hallway, Flann made his way to Clarette’s room, and approaching the door, gently knocked on it twice. After a pause, the door creaked open, and he was brought face to face with his sister. 

Clarette gazed at his expression, which looked weary and melancholic, and asked, “You can’t sleep?”

Flann nodded slowly, and she opened the door further, letting him in. She led him to the bed and sat down, patting the space beside her. “What is it? Are you still thinking about what happened earlier today?”

Flann quietly sat down next to her, the cushioning below him soft to the touch. “...Somewhat.”

“Well,” Clarette said, smiling at him softly, “If there’s anything you want to say, I’ll be here to listen. If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine as well.”

Flann sat for a while without saying anything, and after enough time passed that Clarette wondered if he wouldn’t, he said, “...Clarette, back at the other estate, you told me that the previous king was a bad person.”

These words surprised Clarette a little, not being what she expected, but she nodded regardless, encouraging him to continue.

“What… does it mean to be a bad person?”

Clarette pondered for a moment, not sure how to define it. “I suppose… if you hurt other people, then you could be considered a bad person.”

Again, Flann was silent for some time, and Clarette wondered if the explanation she had given was a bad one. 

“I… have hurt people,” he said at last. “...Am I a bad person?”

Suddenly realizing what he meant by his question, Clarette grew flustered at the result of her words. “No, he attacked you first!” she replied, trying to correct his conclusion. “If it’s self-defense, it doesn’t count. You didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“...So if I hurt someone while trying to protect myself… that doesn’t make me a bad person.”

Clarette answered promptly. “Yes.”

After another pause, Flann asked, “...What if I’m trying to protect someone else?”

Caught off guard by Flann’s words once more, Clarette thought a bit further about how to answer this question. After a moment of contemplation, she replied, “I guess it depends on how far you go, and how much was really necessary.”

Tense at whether or not her response this time was sufficient, Clarette waited as Flann thought about her words. 

“So,” he replied, “in the end there isn’t really a clear answer…”

Clarette released a breath of air that she didn’t even realize she was holding in. She patted Flann on the back, sighing. “That’s just how it is. Nothing comes out of overthinking it, so don’t worry about it so much.”

Smiling at him, she added, “As long as you don’t hurt people on purpose, you’re fine. Like I said, what happened today, it wasn’t your fault.”

Flann sat without a reply, and she patted him on the back a bit harder. 

“You understand me, don’t you?”

Startled by the sudden impact, Flann immediately nodded. Clarette laughed at his response, and the heavy atmosphere that floated about him seemed to subside a bit. A little more relaxed, he, too, smiled softly under the warm golden light. 

***

The following morning, Flann and Clarette arrived at school as usual, showing their identification cards as they made it through the gates. Their first lecture this morning was history, and on the way to the building their class was located in, they ran into Leticia. 

Catching sight of Clarette, Leticia quickly made her way over, a look of concern on her face. When she made eye contact with Flann, she made a short bow before turning back to Clarette. 

“Clarette, what happened yesterday?”

“Huh?” Clarette was a bit taken aback by the sudden question. “What do you mean?”

“There are… rumors, you know.” Leticia glanced at Flann with unease. “People are saying… that your brother tried to kill another student yesterday. That’s not true, right?”

Shocked, Clarette quickly turned to look at Flann. A seeping dread fell over his face, and she turned back to Leticia to speak. 

“No, it was an accident!” She spoke hurriedly, trying to convince Leticia. “He was attacked by Blaise first, and just lost a bit of control when trying to counter!”

Hearing that, Leticia paused as if in thought, and then nodded. “I see. So that’s what happened.”

“It’s not hard to believe, because Blaise is always picking fights…” Her expression hardened. “Still, some said they witnessed his condition on the way to the infirmary, and someone even said they saw Flann attacking.”

She gazed at Flann with an expression that was hard to read. “Even if that’s the truth, it’s unlikely people will stop gossiping… and Flann’s reputation has lowered even more.”

Flann felt his heart fall with a thud, and a feeling of helplessness began to overtake him. “I…”

“They’re just looking for a reason to scorn him,” Clarette muttered under her breath. Then, speaking up louder she said, “Flann, don’t worry about what they’re saying, okay? They’re just exaggerating.”

Flann looked at her a little helplessly, and she reached out to grasp his hand tightly. Feeling the warmth in his hand, after a moment’s pause, he replied, “...I understand.”

The three of them made their way to the building in relative silence, but once they entered the hallway, they became acutely aware of the whispers that flitted through the air. Flann felt as if countless eyes were fixed onto him, an undying pressure forming at his back. He gripped Clarette’s hand tighter, trying to avoid their gazes. 

When they entered the classroom for their lecture, all talking ceased, and a still, crawling silence hung in the air for a few moments. Then, as they walked to a corner of the room with empty seats, slowly the voices began to pick up again, and the previous noise was restored. 

Peeking out, Flann glanced to his side, and his sight fell on Servas, who was sitting in the center of the room. Servas looked in his direction, and Flann found the hard expression on his face to look cold and condemning. Ill at ease, he quickly turned away, and followed Clarette and Leticia to sit in the empty seats they found. 

Once they sat down, Clarette let go of his hand, and gently patted him on the back. Although he knew she was trying to reassure him, it didn’t do much to relieve the pressure of the eyes he felt on him, nor the endless chattering that scratched away at his ears. After taking his materials out of his bag, he kept his head down until the instructor arrived, staring intently at the blank papers on the desk before him.