Chapter 85
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 85
Chapter Title: The Princess's Disguise
-----------------------------------------------------------------
It was early summer, with overcast days dragging on endlessly.
As the rainy season set in and the gloomy weather continued, baseless rumors began to spread, fueled by the ominous atmosphere.
The main whisper going around the Imperial Capital was that it was cursed.
It sounded ridiculous upon reflection, but with the press only highlighting the brighter side, people's anxieties latched onto these tales.
*They've backfired.*
Endless assurances that the capital was safe rang hollow—hard to believe even if you wanted to.
In truth, even a perfectly logical explanation might not sway them; they just wanted to look away.
Once ignited, that anxiety was like embers that wouldn't die out, no matter how much you stomped or shouted.
"It's gotten so troublesome all of a sudden."
I sighed, lost in thought.
These days, a simple stroll through the markets let me overhear the rumors firsthand, and plenty.
Yet despite the grim mood, no one dared voice them aloud—too ominous, so everyone hushed it up.
In the end, the only ones spreading the word were the cultist priests stirring up fear to beg for donations.
I listened with dry indifference before turning away.
Just as I was about to head to the venue for Princess Lilian's speech—
"Good day, Professor Aiden."
A middle-aged man who'd spotted me extended his hand with a smile.
When I just stared at it without shaking, he scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.
He realized his mistake and bowed his head instead.
"Sorry about that. I don't do handshakes, you see. No offense intended."
"Oh, I see. A renowned figure like Professor Aiden couldn't possibly shake every hand without wearing them down to stubs. Ha ha."
The man took it in stride and laughed heartily.
"Might I ask if you're here to see Her Highness Princess Lilian as well, Professor?"
I paused, then nodded.
"...Something like that."
*'Not that I particularly wanted to.'*
Before me stretched a line of glistening chitin exoskeletons.
What could you even call this? A lawn piled high with chocolate balls?
Not a sight I'd recommend for the faint of stomach.
Cockroach teachers flicked their antennae everywhere I looked.
That was why my gaze turned cynical and disgusted, unintentionally.
Truth be told, the middle-aged man's proffered hand was a fuzzy, spindly leg, so I couldn't...
*'Enough of that.'*
Dwelling on it would only make life harder.
"May I walk with you, then?"
"Do as you like. We're headed the same way anyway. Just... I'd prefer silence so I can look around."
"Ha ha, understood?"
Ignoring the middle-aged man walking beside me, I scanned the surroundings with a sigh.
Despite the drooping mood, a splendid stage was being set up in places, adorned vibrantly.
The workers, anticipating rain, had pitched tents here and there.
After the tunnel incident, the Imperial Family was staking everything on getting Ri Sete Academy back to normal.
It was an imperial university, after all, and its status as the Empire's top school made the heretic mages' attack feel like an attempt to burn books—destroying knowledge itself.
Even if the heretics hadn't stated that intent outright, targeting the academy without a clear goal screamed it.
The middle-aged man, touring the grounds like me, clicked his tongue.
"Just as the rumors say—it's a real ruin."
"......"
With things like this, it wasn't surprising people speculated students were the target.
The heretics' motives were unknown, but the academy's destruction was stark.
For me, if the public thought the heretics were after students, it preempted any suspicion falling on Elize.
*'Even the high spirit in the back mountain's treated like some legend...'*
No harm in caution.
With me—who knew the truth—keeping silent, public focus naturally shifted to the academy, especially its students.
Crushing the Empire's future talents? It made sense.
*'That's why the grand reconstruction.'*
To flaunt the academy's resilience, workers hauled materials nonstop, day and night.
Dispelling rumors that the Imperial Family had abandoned it.
People who'd recognized me approached one by one with greetings.
Then, one woman ascended the finished stage.
Murmurs spread, soon turning to admiration and surprise.
"That's her...?"
"Must be Princess Lilian, the one His Majesty dotes on so."
"Every bit as beautiful as the rumors."
"Beautiful doesn't cover it—she's famed for her pure heart."
Mmm...
The man drew small cheers from the crowd and launched into an exaggerated spiel.
"From charity and good deeds to caring for the overlooked, spotting floods or famines first and leading relief—she deserves more than 'beautiful' as an opener."
"...My mistake. No need to get so worked up."
The one who'd said "beautiful" apologized graciously.
Not awkward, but magnanimous.
A pleasant apology, you could say.
After that exchange, the mood toward Princess Lilian warmed deeply.
Even a small slip in her speech would earn fond smiles and forgiveness.
Assuming some cheerleaders were planted, I glanced indifferently at the girl—no, woman—who'd taken the stage as princess.
Calling her a woman was just the title; to me, she was gray-tinged white chitin wheels...
No, a chitin insect.
*'This is insane.'*
My real-time facial recognition glitch was hitting new highs, leaving me speechless.
*'What playwright would stick in a protagonist who can't recognize faces?'*
Story wouldn't progress if the lead couldn't tell people apart.
Yet here I was, the freak seeing everyone as chitin bugs.
To elaborate: a blond professor, heir to a minor duchy, rapier genius...
Me.
*'What a nightmare.'*
If some writer seriously considered that gimmick, I'd urge them—wholeheartedly!—to drop it.
Ignore that, and you'd birth the weirdest protagonist ever.
"So, we must never forget this... ever."
Her clear, resolute voice rang with powerful conviction.
Unlike the gentle image I'd imagined for Princess Lilian, she seemed quite forward-thinking. I glanced her way impassively.
Nothing visible.
Except the flicking antennae.
I'd pegged Gregor's family as scum for scorning him after he fed them, but physiological revulsion trumped all.
Haa...
*'White chitin's kinda novel, though.'*
An albino cockroach?
Or maybe white hair, so I said nothing.
But in my memory, Princess Lilian had hair nobly white, fitting her lily moniker.
Not gray-streaked like that.
*'The Imperial Family's 'noble white' wouldn't be plain white.'*
Stuffy royals wouldn't settle for common white.
Their white was...
*'Platinum.'
Silvery yet purely white-toned, a unique sheen.
Scanning around, my gaze settled on one spot.
*'There.'*
Among the attendants behind.
"Thus, we take this incident gravely and pledge full support to the academy."
Her words ended to thunderous applause for the princess.
She handled it deftly—feigning surprise, then closing her eyes against rising emotion.
Considering it acting, the gestures felt profoundly natural.
Honed over many days, clearly.
I slipped from the crowd toward the retreating Princess Lilian.
Her side spotted me, approaching with post-speech relief.
"Good day, Master Aiden. Or should I say Professor Aiden?"
"Call me whatever. But not you..."
Ignoring the friendly gray-tinged chitin approach, I stepped toward the one behind.
If my guess was right, she was just a stand-in.
Amid puzzled stares, I stopped before who I'd pegged as the princess.
"You're Princess Lilian."
Only then did the lustrous white chitin before me falter, eyeing me oddly.
Her companion stammered.
"Um, calling a man 'lady'..."
I froze.
*'What, a man?'*
A man? Where?
As I looked flustered, the ignored "princess" narrowed her eyes.
Ignored, and a man?
By my knowledge, this white chitin was...
Cold sweat trickled inwardly. My head spun.
*'A man?'*
The person before me—a man?
"And she has black hair, no less. Her Highness has lustrous silver-white."
Only the true Princess Lilian before you...
The subtle reprimand worsened my sweat.
Huh? Black? But to me...
In this baffling mess, I inwardly lamented.
*'Face blindness means I can't even tell gender.'*
Should've just played dumb and approached the "princess."
As I scrambled excuses, the white chitin—no, black-haired girl? Boy?—sighed.
"Enough, everyone. It's blown anyway—no point pretending."
"But...!"
Unable to follow, I just stood sternly as usual.
I didn't grasp the flow, but staying put seemed to sort it, so...
And it wasn't wrong.
The white chitin insect before me greeted politely.
But it was a woman's courtesy, not a man's—closer to a lady's curtsy at a ball.
Skirtless in pants, she mimed lifting nonexistent hems with graceful poise, catching my eye.
Meeting my gaze, the white chitin smiled lightly.
"'The real' Princess Lilian greets Master Aiden, one of the Empire's Three Swords."
Yet her words carried a sting.
"Disguises lose meaning before Master Aiden. I put real effort into the male impersonation."
Her serpentine glare froze me.
*'Male disguise, huh.'*
I'd just walked up to a cross-dressing princess and called her out.