Proof of Concept

"Henry! You're back. Are you well?"

Bellavarn set down his tools and stood to greet Henry as he walked in. Kerv was absent and April hasn't dropped by yet, so it was only Bellavarn in the library for the moment.

Henry was surprised to be embraced by Bellavarn.

"I was unaware of how much you missed me, Master Bellavarn."

Bellavarn rolled his eyes and departed quickly.

"Don't act stupid. That is Kerv's job."

"Ah, but he isn't here, is he? Still working on his own little project? I haven't seen him this motivated since back in his training days. All because of you, Master Bellavarn. You inspire the people around you."

"Hah."

Bellavarn huffed. The staff and his friends were full of praise all the time. It was nice half the time, but it was getting stuffy. Sometimes Bellavarn wanted to be treated more like a friend without titles. Kerv was the best example of letting himself be a friend. Henry was getting there with time, but he still added 'master' in front of his name. Maybe it was a habit built over the course of working with Duke Braster.

"Kerv is still Kerv. I wish you would stop calling me 'Master Bellavarn'. At least when others aren't present. April actually overheard Kerv calling me 'Bell' and is trying to pick it up. I told her it made me uncomfortable and that I would only allow family to call me that."

Bellavarn went round and round in circles talking with April. She was very pushy when she wanted to be, coming up with several alternatives to his name in order to find something unique. It felt odd being given a pet name by a girl. No one has ever done it in his past life except for his parents and his girlfriend.

He wanted 'Bell' to be his name when speaking with close friends or family. To cast aside the meaningless use of his title. He was the Master of no one. He definitely didn't act like a Marquess. Young Duke was worse because it sounded both childish and like he was gunning for his father's position.

"Call me, Bell. Please? A friend shouldn't act subservient. It feels fake..."

Henry thought about teasing him, but that was Kerv's thing, and seeing the genuine longing and mild hurt in Bellavarn's expression served to soften Henry. He allowed himself a wide grin.

"If you wish, Bell. I didn't realize it was so important to you. Forgive me."

"It doesn't work if you apologize right after. Oh! That reminds me. I want to ask for your advice."

Bellavarn guided Henry over to his desk, where a compact pasty white object rested alongside several carving implements. Herny, being a trained knight, could sense the faint magic energy hidden within the small device.

"You managed to complete it already?"

"Hm? No! No. This is just a prototype, proof of concept. The magical lines work, and the object is stable, but I have a lot of fine-tuning I need to do. This is still the first of my ideas and doesn't encompass the other two variations in my design. I wanted to get your advice on the weight."

Bellavarn picked up the object.

"The weight?"

"Yes, the weight. I want to know how heavy you find it. Is it unwieldy? How does it relate to a dagger or throwing knife? It seems bulky in my grasp, so I wanted to confirm my thoughts from an expert."

Henry casually accepted the experiment in an open palm. His hand didn't drop, but Henry could feel the weight to it. Turning it around, rolling it his palm, between his fingers, tossing it up and down, Henry was not kind in his maneuvers. It was now filled with mana, simultaneously being structurally enhanced and magically volatile. If this product was close to finished and the proof of concept, it needs to be tested thoroughly.

"The weight is heavier than it appears. I can hold it easily, but it does not toss neatly. Attempting to get it to fit in between my fingers is a difficulty that isn't impossible but improbable in most others. The mass on this particular one is slightly more weighted towards one end. If I were to throw this, the balance would be thrown off and it would tumble through the air rather than flying true."

Bellavarn nodded along.

"The magical lines also interfere with my own magic. It is common with new magical engineers that their leylines intrinsically want to absorb mana from a recipient. Your desire when carving the lines to absorb mana has changed them. If a child were to hold onto this daily without consciously inputting their mana supply, it would automatically drain them dry, and they would become sickly within the span of a week."

Thinking about it, that was what Bellavarn was trying to do. He read that magical inscription took on some of the willpower of the mana used to create them but was unaware how potent it would be.

"Then I will have to set this aside and create a new one. I want the lines to accept mana, not drain it. It is supposed to be a training device, not a torturing one. Ick. On second thought, I might just destroy this one entirely."

"I wouldn't say that. This is a good milestone. As long as no-one uses this, you can keep it as a memento and reminder of your first experiments. You've tossed all the others; this will serve as a record of your efforts into the annals of history."

Bellavarn looked like he inhaled a lemon. Henry didn't mince words like Kerv did. Everything he said was serious and genuine, making this moment feel a bit awkward. Bellavarn counted on Henry not to pull back his words when describing the experiment's faults but didn't expect it to translate into even more praise. The fact that Henry believed Bellavarn would be written down in history was both touching and frightening.

He didn't want to be a war hero or genius merchant. He didn't want to be a great leader or person. All he wanted was to create. To make his parents proud. That would be enough for Bellavarn.

"I'll accept your words only because they are genuine. Here, I've been waiting to test the function."

Bellavarn retrieved the object and held it horizontally at eye-level. Placing his thumb and forefinger on the two poles, he trickled in his mana, powering the leylines.

Achingly slow, the two pieces started to turn in a clockwise direction. Its speed was less that of a helicopter's blades and more like a spinning ballerina music box.

"It works! It really works."

Progress was progress. It took many hours of effort to reach this point. It was nowhere near completion or optimization, but the device actually worked!

"Congratulations, Master Bell. You've worked hard."

"Mhm. Thank you, Henry."

The piece spun for a few more seconds before powering down. When it was fully off, Bellavarn heard a sing-song voice.

"Oooh. What's that thing?"

The duo turned to see a skipping April. She bounced over, examining the experiment from every angle, ducking her head above and below like an experienced appraiser. Resting a finger on her chin, she closed her eyes in deep contemplation, humming.

"Hmm. I know! It is one of those fancy hairclips! I've seen some of these imported from across the seas. They are all the rave among the ladies."

Bellavarn exchanged a glance with Henry. She was way off the mark. Bellavarn corrected her.

"It is not a hair clip, unfortunately. This is a magical device I am working on."

"Oooh! That's so cool! What does it do? It is magic, right?"

"It doesn't do anything at the moment. It is just an experiment."

Bellavarn lied.

"Oh... Then, what is it supposed to do? Does it light up with fancy colors?"

"Yes, actually."

It wasn't a lie—more of a half-truth.

"Can you make it green? Or, or yellow? I like yellow."

"Easily. I can even paint one for you if you'd like."

April gasped.

"Would you? That would be amazing! I will have to make something for you in return. My tutor has been teaching me to knit floral patterns recently. Maybe I can make you something?"

The last sentence was a hesitant question. As if April was afraid to ask. Bellavarn knew that embroidered handkerchiefs held significance in noble society as a courting gesture. It showed that a woman was interested in a man. Some men received many handkerchiefs.

There were three stages to this courting gesture. The first was allowing the Lady in question to handcraft a design. Saying yes at this point didn't mean anything, while refusing could be interpreted as an insult. The second stage is when the embroidery is done and presented. It can be presented in public or private to different effects. Accepting the handkerchief would be accepting her efforts and feelings, allowing courting to take another step.

In the case of multiple suitors, a man can choose to use one handkerchief over the others, signifying seniority among his options. Again, doing this in public or private will have significantly different outcomes.

Bellavarn liked April. He wasn't head over heels for her, but she was genuine if a bit pushy. Talking to her about stories was a fun event to take his mind of things. They've exchanged a couple of books and given each other recommendations. Other than books, though... Bellavarn couldn't see the two of them speaking of much else.

It seemed a bit soon for something like this. His mother set up their meeting with the intention of it developing into something more, so giving the relationship a chance was all he could promise. He felt sorry that all she would receive in return was a colored spinner. It would also take a while since he wasn't near completion.

"If you wish to make me a gift in exchange, I wouldn't reject the idea. But it will take a while for me to-"

"Great! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am going to ask Tullie to borrow some tools and cloth. I will come by tomorrow!"

Bellavarn didn't have time to utter another word as she raced out of the room. It would take a long time to knit something from hand, but not if she was as excited as she appeared. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to accept or reject her offer tomorrow...

Henry seemed confused by the entire interaction. He'd heard of April by name, but this was his first time meeting her.

"Is that who the Duchess picked? She seems... bright."

"Hahaha! Yeah... Bright would be a good word to describe April. She is also an avid reader and has been borrowing books from my collection over the past few days. She's been coming over every afternoon."

Henry's silence was telling. It wasn't farfetched to imagine what he was thinking. Many others were thinking about it as well.

How odd it was... Everyone wanted to believe, some more desperately than others, but the seed of doubt once planted could not be unrooted so soon.

"I know, Henry..."

"You do?"

Bellavarn was forlorn as he watched the empty doorway. It didn't take a lot to admit to himself that this was all suspicious. He hated himself for it, but it was there. An itch that couldn't be scratched.

"I know. I am not as naive as I once was. Her timing is too convenient. I want to believe her. And I will, too. Until she gives me a solid reason to doubt her."

"Bellavarn..."

He shook his head.

"I do like her. She is bubbly. And I haven't had someone to speak to about books. The feeling in my chest is odd when I see her... I can only describe it as a yearning desire for it to be true. It is hard to trust a smile so genuine from a face so pretty."

"..."

Bellavarn sighed, placing his new memento back down on his workspace.

"I keep telling myself she is not Melody. And that both comforts me and hurts me."

"..."

"For now. I will accept her feelings, whether genuine or inspired. See where it leads. For better or for worse."

Henry stayed his tongue, not wanting to influence Bellavarn.

"Am I wrong in wanting to trust her?"

"Never. Always offer your trust until it is tarnished personally. Leave all the doubt for me to handle. That is my job, after all."

Bellavarn patted Henry's shoulder, smiling.

"I'm lucky to have you. Do you have anything pressing, or do you have time for a game of checkers? I've managed to beat Jeral a few times already."

Henry smirked.

"Of course I have time, Master Bell."

There he goes again. Well... I suppose it is better than nothing.