The Princess's Commendation
Wait—what?
Toss the hunting dog once the rabbit is caught.
That was the old saying: once the rabbit is in hand, you cook the hound that ran it down. Every hunting dog is expected to burn itself out for its master. I shook my head as I walked the academy grounds.
Absolutely not because I got stabbed. No way.
Right. My body had recovered to something resembling normal—I couldn't keep drawing a salary for lying around. Staying in bed forever wasn't going to help the escape plan one bit.
Wandering around like this without Arlea nearby wouldn't accomplish much either. So I set out on a grand tour of the campus to find her.
Except…
Where did she go?
Not a hair of her. Training grounds, café, office—nowhere. After three solid hours of running myself sweaty, I finally reached the dormitory to sweep the last possible spot.
Knock, knock—
"Your Highness? May I come in? It's Mikhail. Your Highness."
CRASH—BANG—THUD─────!
Something shattered inside. A moment later the door flew open.
"······Hah. Hah. Mikhail?!"
Arlea, still gripping the doorknob, threw herself at me. She must have just stepped out of the shower—she was wearing nothing but a bathrobe.
"Mikhail! You're back. Are you hurt anywhere?!"
"Y-Your Highness."
"Are you hurt?! Did you—did you take any worse injuries? You know, things like that?!"
"Your Highness."
I dropped my voice.
"Even in front of your own knight, you must maintain your dignity. At the very least, exposing your chest like that is a breach of etiquette."
"What? That's what you came here to say?"
Arlea narrowed her eyes to slits.
"That's what magic is for."
Huh. A first-year handling magic this fluently? Talk about a drama with zero internal consistency. Then again, this was the same girl who had cast the notoriously difficult red magic of the Circle arts in the blink of an eye.
Using the same power that one-shot two Demon Grand Dukes… for this? Starting off hot, wasn't she?
Not that she was trying to hide it.
"First of all, as a loyal servant of the Empire, I have a duty to protect Your Highness. Your Highness comes first. May I come in?"
"······Wait. Let me dry off first."
She snatched up a towel and shook her head left and right. In seconds her hair was soft and completely dry. Then she thrust her chest out with deliberate boldness.
"There. Happy? All right, enough worrying. Mikhail—since you came all this way, let me ask you something. Who told you to go fight until you were bleeding?"
'Arlea Kiessen' is scolding you!
Ugh!
Arlea puffed her cheeks out like a blowfish and launched into a full sermon. The sulking was cute, sure—but she was exhausting.
"Mikhail. You were really awful. Who's standing behind you right now?"
"Your Highness is."
"And you still go charging out like that?! Mikhail. Instead of fighting alone until you die—you're mostly healed now, right? Why not quit being a knight and become my personal secretary?"
"I'm already under Your Highness."
Just come along, she added. I'll treat you well.
This woman was seriously about to ignore regulations entirely.
"An Imperial knight must keep his chastity, Your Highness. I am married to the Empire."
"I am the Empire, Mikhail. That means you're basically married to me."
Arlea let out a sigh. Getting angrier would only breed bad blood.
In the original timeline this would have ended with her washing up out of habit after a full night of passion. I could picture it clearly.
She crossed her arms and declared with lofty dignity:
"First, I have a gift for you."
"A gift?"
Hm?
A gift?
I'd never heard of such a thing.
"Sir Mikhail, kneel! I have a grace to bestow upon you in person."
I dropped to one knee as if it were a knighting ceremony. A sheet of parchment had already appeared in Arlea's hand.
"······Arlea, reading aloud: 'For sacrificing your own body for the peace and safety of Imperialis students, faculty, and the Imperial Family, this certificate of commendation is hereby bestowed upon you.' How do you like it?"
"Yes. I like it very much."
Lie.
I didn't like it one bit. In my experience, that was a shiny apple with a worm inside.
Something about serving as a personal attendant, maybe. There could be landmine clauses buried in there.
Contraception might cover it… maybe.
Even with protection you still got the 99.9% gacha failure of a shotgun wedding—and if you said no and just increased the number of attempts, you eventually ended up with the fruits of love anyway.
That was not happening.
Even in countries with solid legal systems they had a saying: the devil is in the details.
Test every stepping stone. When in a hurry, take the long way around.
Especially when the other party was a yandere succubus of a student council president's daughter.
Arlea must have read the distrust on my face, because she simply held the parchment out with pure innocence.
"If you're that suspicious, read it yourself. I didn't plant any weird traps."
"Thank you."
Ahem. I was the suspicious type.
I took the parchment carefully and checked it. There really weren't any strange clauses—just formal rewards and a few administrative notes.
The above recipient is recognized in the capacities of Honorary Student, Educator, and Bodyguard, and is hereby granted the authority to attend classes.
Classes?
Right. If it's classes…
I revised the escape plan on the spot.
Once the first lectures began, I would reunite with the Seven Heroes.
Sooner rather than later.
But she didn't seem to care about any of that.
She was strong enough not to.
The continent's supreme power, the greatest under heaven—the great sovereign who had pacified the land. King of War and Peace. Those were the epithets history would give Arlea Kiessen.
Arlea had nothing to fear.
That's it!
A way to escape Arlea had just occurred to me.
Build my own strength. Keep Arlea in check.
Two birds, one stone.
A few days later, at the Martial College training grounds.
Arlea's first-term schedule had been set with a single lecture: Swordsmanship.
The outdoor sparring arena that served as the classroom had the awkward air of people meeting for the first time—or else everyone was simply cowed by the atmosphere, which felt uncomfortably like an ancient colosseum.
I, meanwhile, was buckling under the pressure of Arlea staring at me and only me with the intensity of a Gen-Z fan glued to a screen.
Why are you just standing there, Arlea!!
This woman had been frozen like a statue since icebreaker time. In the past she had been competent enough to serve as student council president and head of the discipline committee.
I finally had no choice but to speak up.
"Your Highness. Peer relationships are a matter of grave importance. Mixing words with the other first-years is—"
"No. I prefer the quiet."
That was a lie.
When she was needling me, the words poured out of her like a waterfall.
"Even so, you must go. His Majesty the Emperor instructed me to ensure Your Highness enjoys a proper social life at the academy."
"Will my father last longer, or will I? No—who do you actually see more often?"
She hit me with a full preemptive seniority strike. I had nothing left to say.
Pat, pat—
"Good boy. Keep being this obedient and I might even give you a reward, Mikhail♥"
Arlea whispered it right into my ear.
Ever since the runaway doll had beaten me half-paralyzed, her obsession had only gotten worse.
Stripping me to apply medicine because the wounds looked nasty… staring holes through me whenever I woke up with a morning tent… pressing her chest against me while throwing a tantrum!
She's not even trying to hide it.
If I said "I want to sleep with you once," she'd probably slam her head into the floor agreeing.
Click, click, click—
"A pleasure to see you, Your Highness. Perfect timing."
"Oh my."
Arlea quickly clasped the hand of the approaching Carlos.
"I'm glad to see you again as well, Carlos. I trust you handled the matter I asked for."
"Ah. That business is settled. The knight will be training in swordsmanship with us for the time being. Here is the class schedule."
"Hmm. Thank you. You matched it to mine, I assume?"
"Of course. How could it be otherwise?"
Carlos gave an awkward smile.
"Your Imperial Highness. As you saw earlier, I handled all the personnel controls myself. The other professors agreed on that point. It should be a fine stimulus for the students."
"Well done. Next time, I expect both of you to handle things perfectly."
It was stiff encouragement—but still formal.
"Thank you, Your Imperial Highness. Ah—may I speak with the knight for a moment?"
"Granted."
Carlos exchanged a perfunctory greeting with Arlea, then came straight toward me at a purposeful jog.
"Good to see you again. I was genuinely surprised when you said you wanted to take classes—and here you actually are. Delighted to have a fine student."
When he clasped my hand, there was a strange force in Carlos's grip.
Like a man seizing a lifeline.
Odd scene, but I let it pass.
He loses his mind the moment he sees a strong swordsman.
Carlos.
There was only one Carlos I remembered.
The sword fiend who had tried to betray the Empire—an executor who hunted only the strong, famous enough to earn his own epithet.
He had disguised himself as a Martial College professor to hide his identity in the Imperial Execution Bureau. By the main story he was a reasonably well-known swordsman.
If I use this guy carefully, it might work out.
Except there was already a real chance Arlea had co-opted him.
Better to sound him out carefully.
Carlos cleared his throat several times in a row.
"Ah—I'm not sure if I should say this on a first meeting, but… do you happen to know anyone among the faculty? Especially on the Magic College side."
An acquaintance?
Well, yes—among the Seven Heroes. The Seven Heroes were this world's main heroines, after all. I had naturally built relationships with them.
But I shook my head.
At this point in time, that connection couldn't exist yet.
After the chaotic entrance ceremony, no first-year had ever become a professor. Not in any memory of mine.
"No. I don't."
"You don't. Hmm. Strange. That professor claimed to know you. Said she wanted to consult about the magic you used on the doll."
The most capable mage on the continent—
the woman who would one day set the unprecedented record of becoming a twelve-Circle Archmage—
was a professor?
Impossible.
"Is she a first-year, by any chance?"
"A professor can't be a first-year. Though I suppose you two would be the same age."
At this point in time, she was still a student.