Not Buying It (2)
Sensing my bewildered stare, Reina composed herself and offered an explanation.
"With a trait like yours, Cadet Lucian, you could easily subdue an opponent with your ability alone — no sword required. Pair it with magic, and you could toy with enemies from a distance."
But she'd only suppressed her excitement on the surface. Her eyes still smoldered with burning curiosity and unmistakable greed.
No, seriously — greed? Really?
Would I actually get dragged off to the Magic Department if I didn't clear this up right now? A chill ran down my spine, and I scrambled to explain myself.
Bronson of the Swordsmanship Department was no pushover, to be sure — but Reina's classes were hell on earth.
Those classes had once been merely tolerable, but the Magic Department's reputation had since surged to rival even the Healing Department's notoriety, and the red-haired witch in front of me was largely responsible for that. The way she'd wring you dry while smiling sweetly and speaking in honorifics...
"It's not that I haven't considered it, but my trait consumes an enormous amount of mana."
"Does it, now?"
"Yes. My mana reserves still aren't sufficient to handle both magic and my trait. And even if they grew, my combat endurance would suffer. Besides, since my ability is invisible to the enemy even in close quarters, I figured extracting lethality through the sword was the better call."
"Hmm... Well, it's a shame, but I can hardly force you if that's your reasoning."
Reina released me surprisingly easily, though her face clearly registered her disappointment.
Phew...
Watching her tilt her head in acceptance, relief came first — I let out a quiet sigh.
"So then, Cadet Lucian is off to the Swordsmanship Department?"
"That's right."
"I see... What a shame."
She looked genuinely disappointed. But it only deepened my relief.
Time for her to take her leave, I suppose.
Just as I was watching her for signs of departure, she spoke up.
"If you ever change your mind down the road, do come find me, Cadet Lucian. You're always welcome. Ah — and you don't even have to switch departments to request private instruction from the professors, you know?"
Oh my.
"Thank you. I'll pay you a visit when the time comes."
Entirely apart from my absolute refusal to join the Magic Department, free instruction was something I'd gratefully accept.
Just as she said, Union Academy allowed cadets to seek out professors for private lessons. Something like model students visiting the faculty office with questions.
The catch was that whether or not you got taught rested entirely on the professor's discretion — and most requests were refused.
Because far too many students came knocking. Accommodate every single one, and the professor would never get their own work done.
So they typically took only students with excellent grades or ones they'd had their eye on. And Reina had just declared she'd teach me whenever I asked.
It wouldn't be nearly as brutal as department classes, and it went without saying that learning from her would help me enormously — for me, this was nothing short of an unexpected windfall.
I must have made a good first impression, then.
Getting beaten up hadn't exactly been pleasant, but in the end, Bronson appearing as my additional examiner had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
"By the way, Professor Bronson did the same thing — calling me 'cadet' when I'm still an applicant."
"Oh dear, how careless of me. Let's just say your entrance exam performance was so exceptional that it slipped out."
Reina smiled by way of excuse, then pivoted on her heel toward the infirmary door.
"Well then, I'll take my leave — I need to grade the other applicants. You should be fully healed by now, so rest a bit and see yourself out whenever you like."
"Y-yes, understood. Goodbye, Professor."
"Yes~ see you at the entrance ceremony~"
Humming to herself, Reina left the infirmary completely.
"...Maybe I should get up too."
After rolling around in bed a while longer, I eventually rose.
Typical Academy, I suppose — my whole body had felt like it was tearing apart at the time, but after one decent nap, I was perfectly fine.
I stepped out of the infirmary with a light step, and—
"Lucian."
"...Princess Seria?"
The moment I opened the infirmary door, I came face to face with the last person I expected.
While I'd been laid up in the infirmary, time had flown by, and before I knew it, evening had fallen.
"Have you had dinner yet, Lucian?"
Naturally, someone bedridden in the infirmary hadn't eaten a thing. Seria knew this perfectly well and asked anyway, cool as could be.
"Not yet. Have you had dinner, Princess Seria?"
"As it happens, neither have I. Would you care to join me, if you don't mind? My treat."
"How could I refuse such an offer? I graciously accept."
"Follow me. You made do with a mediocre lunch, so we should eat something proper tonight, shouldn't we?"
My lunch may have been light, but it was a salad loaded with meat, plus a pasta — hardly nothing.
And it cost me a pretty penny, too...
Apparently even that didn't count as 'proper' food to our princess here.
No matter how thoroughly a modern soul had transmigrated into this body, it seemed I couldn't keep pace with aristocratic standards.
No — if anything, being a modern man in a committed relationship with fast food probably made it worse.
"By the way, Lucian — you're addressing me by name now."
"Ah."
Perhaps the silence had grown awkward on the walk over, because Seria hesitantly opened the conversation.
I'd noticed it earlier too — her manner seemed more careful than when we'd first met.
Does she think she fell behind in the practical exam?
"Well, you'll be enrolling at the Academy soon yourself, Princess, and it'd feel a bit stiff to keep saying 'Princess' and 'Princess' on campus, wouldn't it? Too formal, don't you think? Jumping straight to casual speech would be going too far, so I figured I'd close the distance gradually like this."
"...You speak as though your admission is already a foregone conclusion."
"Isn't it?"
"...You're insufferable."
When I replied with a beaming smile, Seria practically spat on my smiling face.
There didn't seem to be any real malice in it, though. A touch of playfulness? Mixed with what might have been a flicker of inferiority.
"Haha, it's been a long time since I've heard that one."
In my real life... no, wait, this is real life too.
What I mean is, before I transmigrated, I was just an utterly ordinary guy you could find anywhere, so hearing something like that was truly a novelty.
Maybe the only other time was back in elementary school, when I got a lucky perfect score on a dictation test and a friend who flunked every single one said it to me.
"Hmph. We're here."
I was still lost in these strange reflections when Seria came to a stop — we'd arrived without my noticing.
Looking up, a massive three-story building towered over us.
Impressive enough in sheer scale, but the glittering facade alone marked it unmistakably as a fine-dining establishment.
"Whoa..."
And true to form, the interior was extravagantly luxurious.
"Fufu. This is your first time somewhere like this, isn't it?"
The moment I let out a small gasp of awe, Seria spoke up with a somewhat triumphant look — she'd apparently been watching my reaction the whole time.
A faint sense of defeat washed over me, but I didn't bother denying it.
"Yes... I've occasionally been to expensive restaurants, but never anywhere like this."
"Well, most places like this require a noble escort just to get through the door, so that's only natural."
"Isn't this place awfully expensive?"
"It's nothing to me. Don't underestimate the wealth of a ducal house."
The sense of defeat hit me like a truck.
Damn it. Why couldn't I have been born a chaebol heir too?
"Are you ready to order?"
As I sank into my seat nursing my bitterness, a server from across the room approached and asked.
"Yes — one Chateaubriand, medium well, please. And what will you have, Lucian?"
"Haha, this being my first time somewhere like this, I honestly have no idea what's good. Might I trouble you for a recommendation, Princess?"
"Hmm... if it's steak you want, I'd recommend the ribeye. How would you like it done?"
"Medium rare for me."
"We'll take both, please."
"Of course. The cooking will take some time, so please bear with us."
"Naturally."
Seria offered a tip as she answered, and the server bowed deeply and accepted it.
Tips weren't mandatory, but most nobles paid them for the sake of dignity alone.
It rarely came to that, but you never knew — if a server happened to gossip somewhere about the stingy, impoverished noble who didn't even tip, that would be a problem.
Perhaps because it was a little past the dinner rush, the restaurant was empty, and Seria and I had barely gotten through our idle chatter before the dishes arrived.
Is this how the fork and knife were supposed to go again?
"Lucian."
"Yes?"
I was barely dredging up the foreign dining etiquette I'd learned wayyy back in middle school while carving into my steak when Seria spoke up again.
"I've been wondering for a while now — have you ever been formally trained in etiquette?"
Oh no.
"You have your clumsy moments, but your manners are polished to a degree that's almost uncanny — I'd hardly take you for a commoner."
How was I supposed to answer this one?
The truth was, I'd never received proper etiquette training either. But even in a world that used Hangul, the Middle Ages were still the Middle Ages — basic education was sorely lacking.
By contrast, I'd completed a full modern education. My grades weren't top-of-the-top, but I'd consistently stayed in the upper tier, and I'd never had a blemish on my conduct. Compared to the commoners of this world, looking refined was only natural.
"Haha. It's just that, by chance, an opportunity arose and I picked up the basics of etiquette."
Obviously I couldn't say any of that outright, so I fudged it.
"Really?"
"Yes. It wasn't proper instruction — just a few things I glimpsed in passing — so there are plenty of gaps."
"Not at all. Picking up this much just from glancing at it is genuinely impressive. I was drilled relentlessly from childhood to get where I am."
"Haha, is that so? Talent really does follow you everywhere, it seems."
"...Lucian, do people tell you you're insufferable often?"
"Not at all?"
Seria's withering glare flew my way, but I stood my ground with perfect composure.
Why? Well.
Because it was actually true.