015
I was awakening to the incredibly unique appeal of masculinity that keeps even a speck of dirt away.
The greenhouse turned into a bustling marketplace in an instant. The male students were frantically escorting their female partners, while the girls feigned delicacy with lines like, "Oh no, what if I get dirt on me?"
Our group of four. Well, calling it a group feels a bit grandiose. Anyway, Elisia von Rosenberg and I were on a different wavelength.
For starters, Elisia stood ramrod straight right there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. That haughty poise, utterly convinced that her partner—me—would approach and courteously escort her, the lady that she is. Actually, everyone except me was already doing it.
But.
I don't wanna go.
Heading to the center meant getting stared at from all sides by these people. Why should I bother? More importantly, I needed to knock a few points off with Elisia. Just a gut feeling, but her finding me amusing felt like a dangerous signal.
Sure, messing with the main character's love interest is risky karma-wise, but this time, it felt right.
Instead of moving, I plopped down in the most relaxed position imaginable. Then, extending just my index finger, I poked at the bare ground beside me.
"Come here."
"……."
Silence.
The students' eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.
"Good lord, did he just address the lady of House Rosenberg…?"
"Does he even know who he's so rudely summoning? The duchess's daughter, I say!"
"Is he insane? Manners must be something he ate for breakfast and shat out!"
"That barbarian must be suicidal!"
Hector was trembling with rage, on the verge of tears.
"I should cut that insolent bastard down right now…!"
Hey. I can hear you.
Just think it to yourself for once instead of spewing it out loud.
How does Elisia not see through that guy's feelings? Watching it right in front of me, it's baffling as hell.
But damn, it's fun. I wanna poke more.
Poke! Poke!
"Come on over."
Elisia's eyes widened into circles. Clearly, her brain had frozen from treatment she'd never received in her life.
She'll get mad now, right? Then it'll be a bust?
I've got my A+ locked in anyway. I'd skip other classes, but this one? I show up every time just to mess with the leftover plot of land in the corner. Total win.
But then.
"Pfft."
Elisia's shoulders shook as she walked straight toward me. Far from angry, she even had a fresh smile playing on her lips.
The moment she stopped beside my crouched spot, she murmured softly.
"How rude."
"Good if you know it. But why aren't you pissed? Normally, you'd go 'How dare you!' and slap me, right?"
"Who knows. But you know it's words that deserve a slap, so why be rude?"
"Who knows with me."
Not losing a single exchange. This was some next-level skill.
Now she'd really be pissed, for sure.
Elisia leaned down, staring right at me. Her purple eyes rippled deeply.
"Yeah… Why am I so unfazed? Weird."
Oh shit.
"If it were anyone else, it'd piss me off so bad it'd stick in my chest whether I wanted it to or not."
"……."
"But with you… I just think, that's just how he is. Maybe that's why?"
Ah. She's broken too.
Clearly, no normal people around me.
Confused, I averted my gaze to the cart. All my worries vanished instantly.
Screw it, who cares.
I stood up and approached the cart. Shiny pitchforks. Sturdy shovel handles. Like a man possessed, I reached out.
"Time to touch some dirt again."
My eyes gleamed like those of an expert appraising tools—no, like a priest evaluating a holy relic.
This grip. This weight balance.
"This is quality. Well-maintained too."
I picked up a pitchfork and flicked it. Ting—! A clear, pure ring.
"Pass."
I grabbed the tools and returned to my spot, sitting back down. Elisia had followed me at some point and was watching my satisfied expression with curiosity.
Whatever. Ignore her.
Time to till the field. I'll show 'em who the crazy farmer in this zone is.
The greenhouse after class was pure chaos. The noble seedlings—supposedly the empire's future—were a mess.
Chivalry talk led to knights doing all the shoveling for the ladies. Result? Expensive shirts caked in mud, perfectly combed hair in disarray.
"Where… am I…? Who… am I…?"
"My nails… they're filthy…."
Everyone stared blankly into space, souls seemingly fled.
Surveying the wreckage, Muller Viscountess nodded in satisfaction.
"Good. Treating herbs as mere potion ingredients misses the essence. Sweat, effort, breathing with the earth—that's the start of herbology."
She adjusted her hat brim and grinned.
"Brace yourselves for the semester."
I snorted inwardly.
Pretty words, but isn't she just a slacker?
No lectures. All practicals. Prof just watches.
Ultimate freeloader.
Definitely the author's way to preserve her 'hands-off genius prof' vibe.
"See you next week."
The freeloader prof exited with her leather apron flapping, and the students finally sighed in relief.
Pat, pat.
I brushed dirt off my pants. Felt good to move after so long, but now I'm starving.
That's when Elisia, standing beside me, turned.
"We'll be seeing a lot of each other. Kasian del Parne."
Ugh, seriously.
"…Please, for the love of god, can you shorten my name?"
"Pardon?"
"Full names give me chills every time. Feels like a debt collector hounding me."
"Got it. Kasian."
Wasn't trying to get chummy.
Whatever. Elisia just hid her smile behind her fan.
I glanced around. Early on, the chivalrous heirs jumped to do it all, but Muller Viscountess's 'Guess I'm not scary enough?' had even the ladies plowing.
So dresses were mud-splattered too. They tripped and rolled everywhere since they couldn't plow for shit.
Meanwhile, Elisia beside me gleamed just like before class. Not a hair out of place, not a speck on her dress.
Obviously. I'd made sure of that.
'Don't touch. You'll ruin the field.'
'Pardon? But I should help….'
'No. Plowing's all about angles. Amateurs mess up the golden ridge-furrow ratio. Just watch.'
I'd said that and handled everything solo.
Sensing my gaze, Elisia smiled faintly at the corners of her eyes.
"Surprisingly, those baggy pants don't hinder much when exerting force. Looked comfy, even."
"Yeah. Whatever."
Sudden praise?
"Thanks to you, I enjoyed the comfort. And your sweating effort? Impressive. Handsome, even."
"Ugh."
I grimaced in disgust.
There it was. That noble lip-service culture. Knight dives into mud, risks life for lady; she waves a handkerchief, "Oh, how valiant!" That barbaric romance.
I treasure my life and pride above all. Sure, they're tied for first, so clashes like Hector's showboating cause disasters, but whatever.
That savage romance demands sacrificing both. Hard pass.
"Enough. Save the praise."
"I mean it."
"Did it for me. Haven't legally played in dirt forever, got hyped. Not to impress you."
"……."
"So no debt face."
I casually stripped off my muddy gloves.
Elisia stared intently for a moment. Her purple eyes glinted oddly.
Ominous.
"So honest."
"Always am."
"Pfft!"
She burst out laughing. Shoulders shaking, beaming smile contrasting starkly with the muddy students around her—unreal glow.
I asked sourly.
"What's so funny?"
"Who knows. I laughed again."
Elisia wiped tears from her eyes, shaking her head.
"Around you, I keep forgetting decorum. Weirdly."
"……."
The other students looked flustered. Yeah. Unless their eyes are busted, they'd see Elisia wasn't uncomfortable with me—she was enjoying it.
I felt it too, emergency lights blaring in my head.
Weird feeling. Saintess cracks up, villainess cracks up, genius prof cracks up. Am I some traveling troupe clown?
Why do they all grin like idiots around me?
Get attached. Bad.
I cleared my throat, changing subjects.
"Anyway, question."
"Shoot."
"Why take freshman class? Retake?"
Elisia wasn't a freshman. So why sit in Herbology 101 with the first-years?
If she flunked hard, I'd roast her mercilessly. Locked and loaded.
But she shrugged.
"Academy rule. Seniors must audit some underclassmen classes for mentoring."
"Mentoring?"
"Yeah. Upperclassmen observe and help lowers. Mostly formality."
Roast failed.
Ah.
Got it instantly.
Author wanted age gaps but main cast together—lazy plot device.
Peak convenience.
Elisia snapped her fan shut, eyeing me.
"By the way, you worked for me. Really nothing you want?"
"Told you, nothing."
"For real?"
"Not chivalry. Wanted dirt playtime. Thanks for not interfering with my hobby."
Whispers erupted nearby.
"That lunatic rejects the Rosenberg duchess's favor?"
"Mad. Doesn't know what 'duke' means?"
"Might not. Look at him."
I know. How could I not?
Fuck. Hector was beaming lasers from the corner.
How dare he spurn the lady's grace?!
Just ignore him now. Nonstop bullshit all day.
Elisia seemed pleased by my refusal. She nodded coolly.
"Fine. I'll hold the reward open."
"Huh?"
"Means it's a debt. Call it anytime. Anything in my name."
"Ah, sure. Whatever…."
Won't happen.
Nothing to ask except maybe remove Hector, but no way.
I nodded half-heartedly.
Elisia smiled satisfied, turning away.
"See you next week, Kasian."
"Take care."
I cheerfully absorbed Hector's glare and headed for the exit.
Starving. Home for food, stat.
In the carriage home, Elisia gazed out the window with a beaming smile. Somehow, today's scenery felt especially beautiful. Same old view, always.
"My, miss. Something good today?"
Her personal maid, riding along, smiled warmly.
"That obvious?"
"Yes. You've barely smiled lately—worried me. But now? Often. Relieved."
"Really?"
Huh. Seemed so. Lighter heart lately, smiling more—clear just skimming memories.
"His Highness must be treating you well."
"Hm?"
She paused, then smiled softly.
"Yeah, something like that."
Childhood maid or not, she wouldn't air her flaws to anyone.
"Love really makes a woman glow, huh."
To such chatter, Elisia couldn't say, maybe not the crown prince.
He was cool.
Not in uniform or armor. Never imagined watching a guy swing farm tools, admiring his jawline, thinking cool.
Those clothes… at some point, not ridiculous anymore.
Elisia was awakening to the incredibly unique appeal of masculinity that keeps even a speck of dirt away.