I continued to rock back and forth slightly while I pushed the tension down. It wasn't like I was forcing Mary into this or anything. It just, wouldn't be necessary to be entirely forthright about some things. The servant was studying me and just sitting there. I still didn't even know her name or, honestly, whether she was even a servant at all. She was wearing a uniform, so she was definitely working in some capacity, but some noble houses made their children do stints as squires or secretaries to make sure that they didn't grow too full of themselves. Most of those were houses with martial backgrounds, but I didn't know much about the inner workings of House Wellsworth, so they might have a similar program.

"I'm happy to hear that! I know that tomorrow is reserved for church services, but I have never been the most observant. Does your miss have the time in her schedule? I could use a break from managing affairs here."

"Of course, it's only natural that the two of you should begin spending time getting to know each other. The miss was already planning on inviting you to attend a tea party at the royal palace with her on first day. If you have time for both, I'm sure that she would be willing to skip church services to meet."

If I was right, then the reason Mary had accepted so quickly was precisely this tea party. If the game was anything to go by, the prince wouldn't hold tea parties at the royal palace just for fun. I wonder why she wants to turn him down so bluntly though. Angering the next in line to the throne shouldn't be something done lightly. Hopefully the reason is a good one.

"Certainly, I can make time to attend. I'll plan to take a carriage over to the Wellsworth estate tomorrow at noon then."

We went through the perfunctory motions of etiquette, and then she left. I was left all alone once again, but this time with lots to think on.

***

The walls surrounding the Wellsworth rose up in the middle of the city sprawl and seemed to cut out a world of their own. The walls were only about as tall as a person and behind them, trees made a screen so that passersby couldn't see the inside. The main gate was similarly built for privacy more so than for real security with only a single guard stationed there. He barely glanced at us before he swung the gate open and ushered us through. It didn't even seem like it was locked. The inside was well-kept, but ultimately rather modest. There was a small garden where it looked like some vegetables were being grown, but even that looked to be there for the produce more than the appearance. The same servant came out to greet me as I alighted from the carriage.

The mansion that she led me into was more akin in size to a two-story home from my previous life, but the decor inside was clearly worth its weight in gold. The railing on a staircase leading up to the second floor was gilded with some sort of black ivory-like material and then polished to a sheen. Rather than artwork though, the walls were covered by bookcases all the way up to the twelve-foot ceilings. We stopped in what looked to be a parlor where Mary was reading a book with one finger tracing down the page as she went and the other arm holding the book open.

I dragged one of the well upholstered chairs over next to hers and used one hand to hold the book open in the place of her injured arm. I tried to replicate the invisible ease with which the nurses had inserted themselves to help patients with mundane tasks, but I felt clumsy compared to them. The wince that I caused when I brushed against the splint while taking over was evidence enough of that. The servant had disappeared, so I just stayed like that, moving only to turn the page when Mary's finger made it to the bottom.

It was relaxing to not have to think about what my next step should be. The sunlight coming in through the window made the room comfortably bright and the general lack of staff made things quiet. I idly wondered where Duke Wellsworth was, but it didn't seem like an important detail and I wasn't about to break the silence to ask. It was only when Mary came to the end of the section that she finally spoke up.

"Did you see where Chella went?"

I wasn't quite sure who this Chella was, but before I could respond the servant seemed to appear out of nowhere. She gave a slight curtsy and then focused on Mary, completely ignoring me.

"I'm right here, my lady."

"Can you get us something to drink? I'm afraid that I've been a most ungracious host while I was absorbed in reading."

"As you wish," replied Chella, and then she slipped out through a door off to the side that I hadn't noticed behind one of the towering bookshelves.

"I'm as much to blame for not announcing myself. I just didn't want to cut you off when I'm the one who made you skip church services," I said, "And there's no need to stand on ceremony with me either, I'm nothing more than the heir of a disgraced house at the moment."

She chuckled at that, her hair bouncing slightly as she slid the book into an empty spot on one of the bookshelves. I wasn't what sure what to make of the way I felt as I watched. In my previous life, I had barely finished my first year in high school when I was admitted into the hospital. In that short period of time between hitting puberty and my untimely demise, I would like to say that I was breaking the hearts of great crowds, but that was never even close to the truth. I did get pity parties from my whole grade, but forming a relationship with a soon-to-be-carcass didn't seem to be on the agenda. It wasn't like I hadn't had my fair share of crushes over my younger years, but they felt more like adoration than anything else now.

"I haven't gone to church in years. Why would I care that I'm skipping one more time?" Mary asked once she had sat back down.

"No wonder your attendant was so willing to barter away your time today then."

"Just call Chella by name, she's like a sister to me."

Chella came back with glasses of some sort of iced drink. If I was remembering correctly, then ice should have been exorbitantly expensive this far south, but it didn't seem like much of a concern here.

"You sit down too, Chella. You only met him when you delivered the reply right?" Mary ordered. "We can play a bit of a game with the three of us."

Chella looked like she wanted to refuse, but she ended up sitting down anyway. As a game enthusiast myself, I was looking forward to seeing what sorts of games were played in this world. I had tried all sorts of things back in the hospital, so I was fairly confident in my general ability to pick things up, but I had never gotten very good at things like chess or go. I had settled on otome games mostly because they weren't particularly hard to play even if I was hit with a bout of dizziness, but also because they weren't nearly as boring as the grinding of RPG's. Even so, I had tried nearly everything over those long months. One look at Chella deflating as Mary launched into her explanation of the rules gave me some idea that this wouldn't be a normal game though.

"First, the game is played in rounds where two players are interlocutors and the third is the moderator and after each round the roles rotate. The goal of the interlocutors each round is to be picked as the winner by the moderator. At the end of each round, the moderator writes down the winner of the round, but the winners aren't revealed until the end of three rounds. Once three rounds are completed, the winners of those rounds are revealed and if anyone won twice, then they win the game. If everyone won once, then the game continues on until someone wins both their rounds. Each round, the moderator chooses a topic of debate and the first interlocutor makes an argument. Then, the second interlocutor makes an argument with a different stance and attempts to refute the first. Finally, the first interlocutor gets a chance to refute the second interlocutor's arguments. The moderator writes down their choice and the next round starts. Got it?"

"So the moderator has no obligation to pick the better argument as the winner? Their objective is still to win two rounds and prevent the other players from winning twice?" I asked to the audible groaning of Chella.

"Exactly! This is going to be so entertaining!" exclaimed Mary. "Darren, you can be the first moderator so that you can get a feel for things."

"Then how about this: what's the best way to brew tea?" I prompted.

"Having served as my lady's attend––" Chella started, but Mary interrupted her.

"Drop that! It feels weird that you're calling me that all of a sudden."

"Yes, my––fine, Mary. Having been serving tea for the better part of seven years, I'll start. The best method is by heating approximately three cups worth of water to a boil, then transferring the boiling water to a new container. This should leave you with a little less than the three cups you started with. Add the tea leaves in accordance to how strong your drinker prefers and let it steep for a fifteenth of a bell. Once it has steeped, pour the first cup and wait until the cup feels warm to the touch. Pour out that cup and strain the second cup, then serve."

Mary thought for a moment and then seemed to come to an idea. The debate itself was probably over from the moment that I chose the topic, but at least it looked like she wasn't going to give up without a fight.

"For the most part, I can agree with this method, but it seems wasteful and inexact. First of all, no more than a cup and a half should be boiled. This will reduce the amount of time that the drinker will have to wait and should be more than enough to account for water boiling off. Next, rather than adding more tea leaves if the drinker prefers a stronger tea, the time that the tea is steeped should just be increased to account for that preference. Finally, we can do away with dumping out the extra tea."

"I can agree that mine is a more costly method, but yours will just lead to cold tea. The steeping process will be longer meaning that it cools more and then the room temperature cup will just further steal heat from the tea," said Chella.

I scribbled down Chella as the winner and we changed roles so that I would go first, Chella would go second, and Mary would moderate.

"For this round, the topic will be on whether murder is ever justified."

"Okay, so suppose that you suspect that a person is contemplating murdering ten people. You have enough evidence to be about fifty-percent sure that this person will follow through with it, but not enough to get them arrested or otherwise get the authorities to stop them. Assuming that you are willing to be punished for murder yourself, I think you would be justified in murdering that person," I said. It wasn't the most polished argument, but it left some wiggle room to fill out the details.

"Can you clear up the definition of murder before I answer?" asked Chella.

Mary thought about it for a moment and then said, "No, it's up to interpretation."

"Okay then. I'll define murder as the unjustified killing of a human being. Therefore, it is tautologically never justified."

"Since my argument wasn't even addressed, let me go with another tack. I chose Chella as the winner last round, so you really shouldn't let her win."

Mary wrote down her winner and we moved on to the third round.

"The topic this round will be the value of family."

"That's so boring though," whined Mary in a tone that I had never heard before. It was almost unbelievable that the same girl who hadn't complained a single time about her broken wrist was now sounding like a girl who got grounded for staying out too late.

"The topic this round will be the value of family," Chella repeated, deaf to her complaints.

Mary sounded like she was repeating memorized lines to a tutor, but she complied, "Family is the one thing which can be relied on no matter the circumstances. Family is the stable foundation from which cooperation and society at large can be attributed. Family provides love and nurture without asking for anything in return."

"Family is those people who have a vested interested in your wellbeing and success over the long term," I began, "Since it isn't possible to guarantee the actions of any individual, family members may not always be reliable, but it is in the best interests of the family as a collective to act in such a way as to help all members with the understanding that they will reciprocate or be ostracized by the family and then by society in turn. Therefore, the value of family is indeed the foundation of cooperation, but it is neither asking for nothing in return nor is it reliable under all circumstances. Also, I was lying when I said that I chose you as the winner for the first round, Chella."

"I chose Darren as the winner of the last round and he's clearly lying, so you need to pick me as the winner of this round," retorted Mary.

"You two are both terrible, you know?" muttered Chella as she wrote down her choice of winner.

"Okay, let's see who won!" said Mary.

All of us held out our papers. Chella had chosen me and Mary had chosen Chella.

"Another win for the one who doesn't try to game the game," said Chella, already cleaning up our drinks and escaping before she could be dragged into another game.

***

Compared to the homely atmosphere of the Wellsworth estate, returning to the Masler estate felt like coming back to a sanitarium. It wasn't as if I wanted the staff to get all friendly, but some cordiality would be nice. Instead, all I got was passive hostility wherever I went. The old butler came to tell me that Lorn had finally sent us a notice that the money had been transferred, but he had clearly waited until I returned instead of informing me of something so important right away. Apparently I could withdraw it from Solace Bank or just use their banknotes, so I would need to make a trip there sometime soon.

There was also the issue of the letters that I had been receiving which threatened me to petition for Baron Masler's release. None of them were signed for obvious reasons, but it seemed more likely that these were the people he owed debts to than concerned friends. Still, it seemed as if things were turning out fairly well and that the events of the game were going on without me.