Episode 007: Who Is She?

They were straight-up extorting me. Made me wanna grab 'em all and slather 'em in miso paste. The one and only ducal house of the empire, the flower of Rosenberg and the crown prince's fiancée. The pinnacle of high society, Elisia von Rosenberg, who could make noble ladies faint with a single glance.

When a lady has something to say to save face and looks to a gentleman first, isn't the basic etiquette for him to notice, approach, greet her casually, and speak politely? Especially considering her background as a lady of a ducal house—even Crown Prince Louis de Leopold would react if their eyes met. Even if he didn't bother hiding his annoyance.

But.

'Turn my head? Dare to turn away with me right here?'

In Elisia's mind, Kasian's final expression replayed in slow motion. The moment their eyes met, instead of panicking or showing proper manners...

'Ah, my neck's stiff. Better check out the clouds.'

That brazen act of just whipping his head away. It was humiliating. An insult. She wanted to unleash the knights right then, stop that carriage, and force that arrogant nose to the ground on his knees.

But strangely...

Elisia wasn't angry at all in this moment—just baffled. And that baffled her even more.

'Why am I like this?'

She posed the short question to herself. And quickly understood the reason.

In noble society, rudeness was always a meticulously calculated act. To belittle an opponent, assert superiority, deliver a political message. A highly precise sword dance performed for personal amusement or gain. Elisia had lived her whole life amid such facades and intrigues. People who offered poison with a smile, stabbed with a dagger while pretending to adore.

But that man's back just now? What was it?

"...No malice."

Elisia murmured. There was no contempt, no disdain, no calculation in his actions. Just pure, transparent laziness. Like a child before etiquette lessons, eating whenever hungry regardless of mealtime, or crawling into bed midday just because they were sleepy—a frankness infinitely close to instinct. No intent to harm, no desire to trample.

A man who simply drifted like the wind, like the clouds.

Undeniably crude. Frivolous.

'Why doesn't it bother me?'

His words ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from yesterday's banquet echoed in her ears.

"And hey, a beauty like you—why waste time crying over a loser like that? If you're pissed, go headbutt him or something."

"Anyway, if I were as pretty as you, I'd grab her by the hair instead of bawling. Or at least slap her good. You've got options galore, right?"

Even thinking back, she almost laughed. And her mood lifted.

Because witnessing that man's ill-mannered behavior firsthand made her realize his words to her yesterday were pure, honest praise—free of any hidden motives.

Elisia's lips curved into a sly smile.

"Pfft."

'Yeah, a guy that genuine... he might've just had something urgent.'

That was when it happened.

"Milady?"

A deep voice came from behind. Elisia schooled her expression and slowly turned. It was Hector, the crown prince's closest retainer and eldest son of the swordmaster renowned Vellbius marquis house. He eyed her with concern.

"What deep thoughts have you lost in by the window? Something unpleasant...?"

"No, Sir Hector."

Elisia pressed her fan closer to her mouth. Behind it, her eyes sparkled with a playful glint she'd never shown him before.

"Just... spotted a really amusing animal."

"An animal, you say?"

"Yes. Totally self-centered, no manners at all."

Her gaze drifted back outside.

"But for some reason, it keeps nagging at me."

"...?"

Hector's expression darkened ever so subtly, but Elisia didn't notice. Her mind was already sold on one man.

Far off, the Parne family carriage kicking up dust as it vanished. She couldn't tear her eyes away until it was gone.

"Really... an unpredictable beast."

That was Elisia's conclusion. She'd forgive that rudeness—just this once.

The next morning, I used the spare time before afternoon lectures to map the campus in my head and scout around. I couldn't risk another animal farm fiasco like yesterday.

"Just one month."

Show some effort leaving early for a month, wait for Father's surveillance to slacken, then blissfully sleep in. A perfect hideout untouched by humans or baby beasts.

I found it behind the main building, near the trash incinerator—an old bench. The smell was a downside, but that meant highborn noses avoided it. No better loner sanctuary existed.

'Perfect. Not even a rat here.'

I plopped onto the bench with a satisfied grin. Finally, stretch out and relax—

Rustle!

The bushes shook violently. No way. Nah, no way. Who'd come here?

But my bad feelings always hit the mark.

Thud. A brown furball landed at my feet. Yesterday's squirrel. Those shameless eyes confirmed it. And it wasn't alone. The rabbit from yesterday hopped up next, lining up beside the squirrel.

"..."

...What the hell?

"Do these punks have GPS or what? How'd they find this place?"

Did they plant a tracker in my pocket? I was about to scoff in disbelief when—

Flutter!

A sparrow dove from the sky, landing naturally on my shoulder. These bastards. Airborne now?

Then—rustle again. My ears rang like some cyberwreck hook: 'And it's not over!'

I couldn't take it. I bellowed.

"Fuck! Seriously! If you're coming, come all at once! You training stray dogs or what?!"

"...!"

Something froze in the bushes. Pink hair. Pastel light-green eyes. Terrified expression.

Lily.

"..."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"..."

Ah. Human this time.

Fuck.

Awkward silence hung amid the incinerator's acrid stench. Lily trembled like a leaf—whether from my yell or thinking I'd revealed my barbarian side.

This was a misunderstanding. I swear it was at the beasts, not roaring at the saintess.

I opened my mouth to clear it, but Lily spoke first, voice quivering.

"I-I... they just suddenly went somewhere, so..."

"..."

"I wondered why, so I followed..."

Ah. So you're the pied piper? You herded these animals?

My energy deflated.

"Haa... Got it."

I sighed irritably, nailing the coffin shut. My mistake.

"Hic— hic!"

Lily flinched hard at the sound, then started hiccuping. Fat tears finally spilled from her glistening eyes.

"S-sorry... sob, hic! It's my fault..."

"..."

I froze like a paused screen. What the hell was this? I just yelled once and sighed—what'd I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do to make her cry?

"..."

Rofan or not—this was prime fantasy plot fodder. Way too risky. Ah, this is why I avoid protagonists.

Cold sweat trickled down my spine.

'...I'm fucked.'

Send her off like this, and not just my life—the whole family's security's toast. I can laze with crops because of the family backing me.

I switched gears fast. Softest, gentlest big-bro smile—even kinder than for my sister.

...Reality check sucked.

"No, I didn't mean cry... Haa, okay, just sit here first. Tears off."

"...Sniff. You'll leave again?"

...How'd she know?

"Not going. Staying right here—no running, so please sit. Yeah?"

"R-really?"

Wouldn't it be better if I did? She'd whine about feeling chased off again. Sigh.

"Ever seen a man break his word? I swear on the Parne honor."

My honor's already rock bottom—no loss. And I break promises fine. But facing buttered-up knights my whole life, Lily bought it easy.

She cautiously sat beside me, relieved.

Tap, tap.

Instantly, something poked my thigh. The squirrel, boldly paw outstretched.

'Hand it over.'

The rabbit perked its ears; the sparrow pecked my earlobe.

These guys lost it.

"...Hah."

I sighed deep, rummaging my pocket.

"Now they're openly shaking me down. Wanna grab 'em all and slather 'em in miso paste."

"W-what? Miso?"

"It's a thing."

Lily stared wide-eyed, but I ignored her, pulling out jerky packs. I don't hate animals—love 'em, even. Just hate these food-raiding thugs.

"Here. Eat and scram."

Tossed chunks to squirrel and rabbit.

Chirp chirp!

"Ah, fine. You too."

You've got conscience. Beef jerky's criminal for herbivores, but you're omnivorous—I know.

Crumbled some for the sparrow on my palm. They inhaled like pros. Crunch crunch, nom nom.

Watching that bizarre peaceful mukbang, I felt a prickly stare. Glanced over—Lily head down, staring ground. Obvious she wanted some but pretending not to notice.

With this chaos right next to her? Weirder to ignore.

Grrrrowl—

Her stomach roared louder, grander than yesterday. By tomorrow, it'd have rhythm.

"..."

"..."

Lily clutched her face, burying deeper. Ears beet red.

Sheesh. What a mess. Saintess dignity? Gone.

I sighed, grabbing the fattest jerky slab.

"Hand."

"...Pardon?"

"Palm out. If you're hungry, just say ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so. Geez."

"N-no, it's not!"

She snapped up, but eyes locked on the jerky. I chuckled, plopping it on her palm.

"Kidding. Skipped breakfast? Eat this. Animals chow down—can't have the saintess starving."

Forget my roar too, while at it.

"...Thank you."

Lily cradled it preciously. Peeked at me slyly, then—chomp! Small mouth bit in firm. Cheeks ballooned like the squirrel's. 100% sync.

'Eats good.'

Now I'll have to smoke more jerky at home. Marie might grumble.

Ah.

Same time. Top floor of the magic department building, the strictly restricted Lab Zero. Morning sun filtered through window cracks into utter silence—no dust mote stirred.

Except—scritch, scritch, tap! Irritated chalk smacking the board, repeating.

"No, not this either. The logic doesn't connect."

Iris von Evergarden swept back her disheveled black hair, muttering. Dark circles hollowed her eyes; blood-red irises bloodshot, gleaming grotesquely.

Twenty hours straight like this.

Since lunch yesterday, she'd copied that scribble from the Parne savage—or starving second son—onto her personal board. Stared, skipping meals and sleep.

'The answer's right. Perfect.'

She wasn't hung up on correctness.

'But the process... it's monstrous.'