I Stopped Simping and the Heroines Lost Their Minds

Five days after Professor Rusk sent the archive request, Arthur was leaving the academy combat building when he noticed a mounted courier passing through the main gates.

The rider wore the dark colors of the Thorne estate, with its crest displayed on his coat. He stopped near the courtyard entrance and asked a guard where he could find Emily.

Arthur was already heading toward the outer training court, where Emily usually completed her individual strength drills after class.

He found her there, delivering measured, heavy strikes against a reinforced practice post. When the courier approached the edge of the court, Emily stepped back, wiping sweat from her forehead.

The messenger offered a brief bow and handed her two envelopes. One was a thick, formal packet addressed to the academy administration. The second was a thinner, personal letter.

"I require no immediate answer, my lady," the courier explained, stepping back to a respectful distance. "The estate expects a written acceptance within three days."

Emily opened the thick official response first.

The answer was polite but firm. The Thorne archive contained private family and trade records, and the original toll books were too old to hand over to a group of students.

The estate offered another solution.

In ten days, Senior Archivist Halden would come to Lornfell with the toll books covering the months around Grayroot’s final shipments. He would also bring the known wagon entries and the names of drivers and former road workers connected to them. After reviewing the academy’s evidence, he could request anything else they needed from the estate.

Emily released a slow breath and lowered the official letter.

Arthur noticed, but said nothing.

The courier bowed once more and departed across the courtyard.

With the messenger gone, Emily opened the thinner envelope.

Arthur returned to setting up his target while she read.

The personal letter was much shorter than the official response. Emily reached the final line, frowned, and read it again.

"Bad news?" Arthur asked.

"No. My mother wants to know when I am returning for the break."

"That sounds easier than contaminated quarry records."

"She has already asked twice. If I do not answer this time, she will choose the date herself and send a carriage."

Arthur glanced at the letter. "Can she do that?"

"She believes so."

Emily folded the parchment and put it back into the envelope.

"We should give the official response to Rusk before he sends someone looking for us."

Arthur lowered the bow he had just picked up. "You have lost interest in training."

"I have lost interest in this conversation."

"That too."

Emily gave him a warning look and headed toward the administration building.

They took the official response directly to Professor Rusk’s office.

Rusk read the response twice and placed it on his desk.

"This will be sufficient."

"Professor Moon will continue examining the samples," Rusk said. "The city inspectors are already checking the reseller’s storage sites. Have Felix prepare the dates and wagon entries before Halden arrives."

"Until then, you return to classes," Rusk told them.

Emily signed the acceptance before Rusk dismissed them.

When the official business was finished and they stepped back out into the corridor, Arthur expected Emily to turn toward the outer courtyard and resume her interrupted training.

Instead, she remained standing beside him.

"I’ve lost interest in hitting the practice post," Emily admitted.

"Did your mother manage to defeat you through one letter?" Arthur asked.

"Don’t become insufferable, Vance," Emily warned.

They walked together toward the academy’s smaller western courtyard, where several food stalls opened before the evening meal.

Arthur bought a wrap filled with spiced meat. Emily claimed she was not hungry, then took a large bite from it and informed him that he had chosen the wrong sauce.

"Family letters always contain questions hidden inside polite wording," Emily complained, watching the courtyard traffic.

"Does Lady Thorne handle every estate issue personally?" Arthur asked.

"She handles anything involving money, our reputation, or her children," Emily said. "Which means she handles nearly everything. My father is far more direct. If he wants to know something, he simply asks."

"You prefer his method."

"I prefer direct questions, even when they are unpleasant," Emily agreed.

Arthur looked at her. "Do you dislike returning home?"

Emily considered the question before answering. "Not entirely. I like parts of the estate. The familiar training grounds, the old kitchens, riding out beyond the family roads. There are several household workers I have known since childhood."

She paused, leaning back against the stone wall. "What I dislike is crossing the border and immediately becoming ’Lord and Lady Thorne’s daughter’ again, instead of simply being Emily."

He listened, took a bite of his food, and asked, "Which version of Emily am I currently speaking to?"

"The one regretting sharing this much," Emily replied deadpan.

"That version appears surprisingly tolerable," Arthur noted.

Emily elbowed him lightly in the ribs, but she didn’t start an argument.

They left the western courtyard and began walking back toward the main academy buildings.

"The next long break is only a few weeks away," Emily said as they crossed the lawn. "What are you planning to do?"

Arthur opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Vacation.

He had never thought about it.

The game followed Lornfell’s important events—classes, examinations, dungeon trips, attacks, and character routes. Vacations were skipped. One part of the story ended with the students leaving, and the next began when everyone returned.

But this was no longer a game waiting to skip ahead for him.

Arthur Vance had been an orphan. There was no family house waiting for him, no parents expecting a letter, and no estate where a room had been kept ready.

So where had the original Arthur gone during academy breaks?

More importantly, where was he supposed to go now?

Emily stepped in front of him and clapped once near his face.

"Arthur."

He blinked and looked at her.

"Where did you disappear to?"

"I was checking my plans," Arthur said slowly. "I have just discovered that I do not have any."

Emily’s teasing expression faded. "You never thought about the break?"

"Apparently, I was expecting the academy to keep me indefinitely."

"You could remain in Lornfell."

"I probably will." Arthur considered it for another moment. "I could work with the Obsidian Hand. I am part owner. Sylvia may eventually expect me to perform some actual work."

"That does not sound like a vacation."

"It sounds worse. It sounds like responsibility."

Emily looked ahead again, but her pace had slowed, "Do not decide yet."

Arthur glanced at her. "Why?"

"The academy has not released the final break dates."

"That does not answer the question."

Emily kept her eyes firmly on the path. "I may require a competent training partner."

"You have Leon. Alicia. Half the combat department."

"None of them are irritating in the correct way."

Arthur smiled. "That sounds dangerously close to admitting you would miss me."

Emily walked several steps before answering.

"Do not become insufferable before I finish considering it."

That evening, Emily completed the academy’s formal acceptance and sealed the envelope.

She then opened her mother’s personal letter again.

At the bottom of the page, her mother had written:

Which day should we send the carriage?

Emily pulled a second sheet toward her.

The academy has not released the final break schedule. I will confirm my return after the dates are announced. Do not send the carriage before then.

She stopped, remembering Arthur standing silently in the middle of the lawn after discovering that he had nowhere planned to go.

Emily added nothing else.

She folded the reply and sealed it without giving her mother a date.