Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: It Depends on the Person Drinking It
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It depends on the person drinking it.
After some time introducing myself to the Crown Prince of Hell.
Fortunately, the Crown Prince seemed pleased with the mess he had caused and stopped his rampage for the time being.
Despite all that chaos, he attended class quite normally.
And when class ended, he bid farewell without any lingering attachment.
"Attending class together was fun! Let's meet again at the next one!"
The Crown Prince departed with a refreshing smile.
I watched his retreating figure, deep in thought.
'What the hell did he come here for?'
He seemed to have come to see me, but for that, he hadn't done much of anything.
Just enough to catch a glimpse of my face and leave.
Maybe since it was our first meeting, he wasn't rushing things?
But it didn't take long to realize my assumption was wrong.
He wasn't holding back at all.
He just had no need to.
I realized this when I went to the magic department's general elective course after administration studies class.
"Oh, seeing you here again! You're taking this class too?"
The Crown Prince approached me with a hearty laugh, as if exclaiming what a coincidence!
I was left breathless by his sheer audacity, but I had no choice but to respond.
"Yes. What a coincidence."
"Indeed, truly surprising! By the way, do you know much about magic? As the third son of a viscount family, I'm not well-versed, but they say it's awfully useful to learn!"
The Crown Prince kept up the casual chatter with shameless ease.
And it didn't end there.
"No way! You're in this class too?"
"...Yes. We meet again."
"Right? As nobles, we ought to learn riding! I've ridden horses a bit myself, but as the third son of a viscount, I never delved deeply!"
The Crown Prince was there at the riding grounds too,
"Haha! Again? We really do meet often, Leonardo!"
"......You were here."
"No need to be so formal! Meeting this frequently must be fate. Call me Maximilian comfortably! We're classmates taking the same lessons, after all!"
"......"
Even at the swordsmanship training hall,
"Oh, Leonardo! Quite the tea connoisseur, are you? You look like a painting while drinking it!"
".........."
He even showed up at the garden used for tea parties.
And what this meant was obvious.
'Who would've thought I'd get stalked by the Crown Prince.'
The Crown Prince was keeping tabs on me.
Without hiding it one bit.
Despite sneaking in under a false transfer identity, he was throwing down the gauntlet head-on with an attitude of, 'What can you do if I interfere so boldly?'
I let out a deep inward sigh.
'If only I could figure out why he's acting like this.'
Yes, I had expected as much.
If there was a reason for the Crown Prince to disguise himself and enroll at the academy, the most likely culprit was me.
As I'd said before, the odds of me inheriting the family were extremely low—but
the imperial family wasn't the type to sit idly by just because the chances were slim.
'Though how that leads to him disguising himself and enrolling is still a mystery.'
Anyway, since it had actually happened, there was no point dwelling on it.
But I had to figure out what his behavior after enrollment signified.
A warning? An overture? Or a show of imperial might?
It might be none of those, or perhaps several at once.
Which was why I opted for the simplest and most efficient approach available to me.
"Young Master Campanella seems interested in tea as well. Care to join me for a cup?"
I'd invited the Crown Prince—who had followed me all the way to the tea-drinking spot—to take a seat.
He accepted my offer without a moment's hesitation.
"Sounds splendid! I was curious about that tea you were drinking anyway!"
With that, the Crown Prince took the seat across from me.
I topped off my own cup, which I'd already been sipping from, and poured one for him as well.
And then, a sip first.
Gulp.
As I swallowed and set my teacup down, the Crown Prince grinned and lifted his own.
And—
Gulp!
The Crown Prince downed the entire cup in one go.
He let out a satisfied "Kuh," as if it were liquor, then spoke first.
"Unique aroma! Is this the academy's tea?"
"It's Dominica family tea. You can't get it anywhere else—procured directly from the family."
"Hm! I see!"
With that, he extended his cup as if requesting another.
I poured him more, but instead of drinking, he set it down before me and spoke.
"It pains me after accepting your kindness, but I'm not much of a tea connoisseur. I came here precisely to find that out."
"I see."
"Yes. But someone who enjoys such a unique tea must know his stuff."
Which is why I'd like to ask—
The Crown Prince lifted his teacup as he spoke.
But his eyes weren't on the cup—they were fixed on me.
Eyes vast as the sea, deep as an abyss.
Those profound depths, proving his ruler's bloodline, rippled as if bearing down on me.
"What makes Dominica tea different from others? Is it special enough to procure all the way from distant Dominica, far from the academy?"
His tone was the same as ever, utterly unchanged.
But the intent behind that question carried serious weight.
I fell silent for a moment in response.
This was surely what the Crown Prince had been following me around all day to uncover.
And hearing that question, I let out a deep inward sigh.
A sigh of relief.
'An overture, then. Good.'
What makes Dominica tea different from other teas?
The meaning was unmistakable, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
What makes Dominica different from other nobles?
If you're scraping by just to attend the academy, drop the Dominica pretense and submit to the imperial family.
That was the message.
And it was exactly what I'd hoped for.
'Since I planned to graduate the academy and become a court noble anyway.'
Judging by his attitude, the imperial family would welcome my shift with open arms.
So, I took a leisurely sip before answering.
"It depends on the person drinking it."
"Oh ho."
"I'm biased since I was born and raised in Dominica, so I rate it highly, but I wouldn't say it's the finest in the world."
"Meaning?"
"You choose what suits your taste. That's all. Tea is just a matter of preference, after all."
"Yes, I see."
The Crown Prince gave an enigmatic smile at my words.
I couldn't be certain, but he seemed satisfied with my amenable attitude.
After all, I'd laid bare my utterly transparent intentions: 'Offer good terms, and I'll submit.'
After that, the Crown Prince brought up a few more inconsequential topics before calling it quits at an opportune moment.
"That was good. Learning really does change how you see things. Tea might not be so bad now and then."
"Come anytime. I'll procure some different teas for next time."
"Appreciate it. See you around."
The Crown Prince departed with those words.
Once I confirmed he was gone, I finished the remaining tea.
'Still a shame, though.'
Having to find different teas for next time.
It was the only thing from Dominica that I actually liked. What a pity.
Maximilian Campanella returned to his dormitory with a cheerful expression.
However, the moment he stepped inside, his smile vanished as if washed away by water.
In its place settled a somewhat bored, impassive look.
That expression brought a complete shift in Maximilian's demeanor.
From an immature noble to one who overlooked all others.
Thus reverting from 'Maximilian Campanella' to 'Maximilian Bordo,' he reached out into empty air.
There, where nothing had been, a figure clad entirely in black appeared and handed him a report.
Maximilian read the document he'd received and muttered calmly.
"The Little Iron-Blooded has recruited Erasing Black."
The man in black bowed deeply and replied.
"We can't confirm if it's a complete recruitment, but he met with Laura Clarins, the fiancée of the Little Iron-Blooded."
"Exerting influence indirectly through his fiancée, is it? Interesting. Very interesting..."
As he spoke, he let go, and the report spontaneously burst into flames and vanished.
Maximilian sat down and recalled the man he'd observed today.
Leonardo Dominica.
The man known in society as the Little Iron-Blooded.
Before meeting him in person, Maximilian had thought the moniker somewhat overstated.
He'd met the Iron-Blooded Duke himself, after all.
An expression so inscrutable it sent chills down the spine.
And words that cunningly ensnared his opponents.
Pitifully enough, facing him had brought Maximilian a sense of relief.
'Good thing I'm the Crown Prince.'
By the time he inherited the empire, that monster would have retired from the front lines.
And whoever succeeded him would be better than that.
But his assessment was wrong.
'Little Iron-Blooded.'
Leonardo Dominica.
The third son who couldn't inherit the family.
But his birth meant nothing to him.
He was a true Dominica, the legitimate heir to the 'Iron-Blooded' moniker.
To the point where it didn't seem the Iron-Blooded Duke would ever name any other successor.
'Offer better terms, and he'll submit?'
What nonsense.
Such a man would never submit to the imperial family so easily.
Those words were nothing but deception and mockery.
'If the imperial family can outdo Dominica, then by all means, give it a try.'
True Dominica arrogance.
And he'd even demonstrated it in action.
Nicholas Dignity. True name: Nicholas Amorzen.
The prodigy of the magic tower, bearer of the title Erasing Black as the master's disciple—he'd pulled him in in record time.
Something no one without ambition would do.
Which meant Maximilian had to devise a countermeasure.
After some deliberation, he reached a decision.
'I need to chip away from the outside.'
The Little Iron-Blooded showed no overt movements on the surface.
The one moving in his stead was his fiancée, Laura Clarins.
Chosen personally by the Iron-Blooded Duke, she wouldn't be a pushover either—but
at least she'd have openings the Little Iron-Blooded lacked.
With his mind made up, Maximilian began plotting his next move.