The written exam went along rather smoothly, but both of the rooms I was in had different reactions going along.

First, the class I was in as Carine… It was strangely calming, if not for one glaring problem: the literal glare of Student Council President Clara. I always kept my eyes down at the papers before me, so I was looking through the corner of my vision.

She occasionally glanced at the others as she walked around, but most of the time her eyes were pointed at me, and she stared with an almost solemn expression… Nothing at all like her usual gentle and warm smile.

I was starting to think this goes beyond what I initially assumed.

But that was a problem for later; I needed to pass this exam first, so I continued to focus on the questions.

“You are ordered by your Lord to collect unpaid taxes from local farmers. The Lord also commands you to use force, as they were weeks late with their payment. He also warns you that failure to collect the tax will cost you your position. As a proud knight of Setus, which code and/or laws does this order violate, and how should you proceed with the order?”

I narrowed my eyes, sifting through the pages of memory for the passage I needed. With every law and code imprinted perfectly in my mind, thanks to Professor Karvin’s tutoring and Father’s surprisingly extensive collection of law books in the family library, I only had to find the right one. Before long, several pages popped up in my mind.

The fifth code of Setus’s Knightly Codes forbids bringing unjust harm upon the people even under direct orders. Telling a knight to be a loan shark would definitely fall under unjust harm.

Also, any major tax disputes must be brought to the local magistrate, as stated by the third clause of Article II from the Charter of Taxes. Any further actions should be done with consultation from them, not handled directly, especially with force.

That threat about a potential firing if the orders weren’t completed was also unjust. An article in the statute of knights states that a knight cannot be fired, fined, punished, or branded a traitor for refusing an order that violates the knightly code.

So the most logical answer was to refuse the order, and if the Lord had issues with me for that, I would bring it up in the court of law.

Hell, maybe I’ll even throw him into custody myself if he was convicted.

As I recalled different memories of related laws, charters, and statutes, I wrote them all elegantly onto the answer sheet at a brisk pace, the ink practically dancing frantically on the surface, but I made sure to keep my handwriting legible and elegant.

I, uhh… didn’t write in that last part of my thought though.

Still, I hadn’t realized I could write this fast and elegantly; I bet it was the time limit putting the pressure on me.

I slightly shifted in my seat to stretch, cracking my neck. That was the twenty-third question done.

The clock had barely passed the twentieth-minute mark since the start of the test. It was pretty clear by now that I wasn’t just fast at reading; I was also pretty good at writing things down, something I could find some use for outside of the academy… maybe.

I took a quick glance at Clara, wondering if she was still glaring at me. Thankfully, she wasn’t. She was walking around the room overlooking the others… though her stare lingered a moment longer on my desk every time she passed by.

It was then, as my gaze wandered idly across the rows of desks in front of me, that I realized something odd. I could actually make out the words on the answer sheets of those in front of me. All crisp and clear, as if I were reading them up close.

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Curiosity tugged at me before I could think better of it.

The answers I glimpsed were a bit… simpler. Some barely scratched the surface of the question, like barely a sentence or two, while others have their answers swerve into outright mistakes. And most of the examinees I could see were still hanging around the tenth problem.

Most of them were writing things down so casually that it made me question if I should double-check my answers or not… in which case, I decided that I should.

I did it in a jiffy, reading through my answer sheets at a rapid speed, but still analyzing it with deep focus. So far, I believed that I did the best I could.

Now, if things were smooth sailing as Carine, how was my other self doing, you might wonder.

I had double the question within the same time limit, and also, writing is a little bit more normal-paced with Feyt’s hands.

I should be struggling like fish on land, all things considered.

Instead, I was doing… pretty well??

It wasn’t exactly smooth sailing, more of a slightly bumpy road on a peaceful carriage ride. But it sure as hell didn’t warrant my nervousness from earlier. I was already on the thirty-sixth of fifty questions, and I hadn’t stopped to think about a question for more than a few seconds.

I thought it was thanks to Carine’s mental library that I could do this well. But then, I realized something. There was a pattern to these questions. They were… specific, gave tons of detail, and for a few of them, the answer lay in the question itself, tucked neatly into the thick walls of text, hoping someone would be sharp-eyed enough to see them.

As a result, both me and the other examinees in the room with me were surprised by how much progress we were making.

I heard through their personal mumblings…

“Okay, twenty down…”

“If this town is that far… then wouldn’t the text say something about the… Oh, I get it!”

“H-Hey, this was in last year’s exam too…”

Bit by bit, the air changed. The earlier sighs of frustration, the apathetic scraping of pens, even the cursing and grumblings kept under breath… all of it gave way to quicker scribbles, sharper, confident breaths. It was hope. The thought that they might actually pass this exam spread slowly, but evenly.

I was no exception.

I ignored the casualness of Carine’s room, the energy of Feyt’s room, the occasional glares from a specific person… All to focus on my last few remaining questions.

And before long—

—

“Time is up. Please turn in your papers,” both instructors said at once.

The examinees in Carine’s room all stood up casually, some held a confident gaze on their papers, some couldn’t even bother to think about it.

On the other hand, Feyt’s room was filled with sighs of surprise and relief. It was safe to assume that they couldn’t believe they actually managed to finish all of the questions in time.

It was a contrast, to say the least.

The instructors remained at the lecterns, organizing our papers as we were told to leave the room. There, another set of instructors awaited who led us back to the grand assembly hall.

What awaited us next was the practical exam. I could feel the tenseness of everyone as we walked our way back to the hall.

I couldn’t help but wonder what the test was going to be. Would both tracks have the same test? Would the standardized test be “harder” like last time?

I also recalled that Father and Leila said they would be waiting at the spectator’s booth. I expected several murmurings of the parents of these examinees, but I hadn’t heard anything of the sort on campus. It could only mean that the spectator booth wasn’t here.

So the practical exam will take place elsewhere, huh?

I was nervous about my scores in the written exam, but I had a feeling I did alright. Would it be enough to fulfill the Third Prince’s request? I didn’t know yet. All I could do now was hope for the best.

I wondered what Father and Leila were thinking at the booth. They must be impatient right about now, considering the written exam took an hour. But just thinking about them waiting for me eased my nerves a bit.

Mom and Dad back home were probably wishing the best for me as well. And Fray would also have gone back to her errand run, and who knows, she might pass by here sometime.

Mother, however, chose to stay back at the estate. She told Father and me that someone needed to keep things running while we were out, but I had a feeling that wasn’t the whole truth. Perhaps she was afraid the result might be disappointing? Or maybe she wasn’t feeling well… That was something only Mother would know.

But either way, I knew for a fact that she was wishing the best for me as well, both of me. And I know that not because she poured so much training into me… I know that fact because she is my Mother. If there was anyone I wanted to impress with my results the most, it would be her.

Even though the standardized track’s written exam was easier than expected, I mustn’t let my guard down. It could all be a trick, a false hope that could easily be yanked away in a flash.

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