Your Gender Is
Hey. Cut it out. Not every woman in the world is like you.
"That's so unfair. I'm telling the truth, you know? I was only sharing information I thought you'd want to have."
You mean the information that Elda is a masochistic pervert like you.
"Yep. Looking at her, this woman seems to have a thing for you too. Wouldn't it be useful to know that someday? When you hit her in the stomach earlier, I felt a faint flicker of excitement from her. She probably wants to be conquered by a strong man."
Cheonryeo rattled off her explanation with industrious enthusiasm.
Was she serious...? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. There hadn't been any goddamn perverted setting like that when I'd read the original, and listening to Cheonryeo now was making my head spin. Somehow I kept discovering new sides of the heroines I'd never known about.
Not that it was entirely a bad thing. The more I learned about them beyond the settings I'd already known, the less they felt like characters from a novel.
And once that thought settled in, another question naturally followed.
Had this world always existed? Or had the author created it based on the novel?
When I'd read novels before transmigrating, the protagonists never seemed interested in secrets like that. Personally, I thought I understood why. Thinking about something that complicated just made your damn head hurt.
Well, whatever. It didn't matter what this world's secret actually was. No—it did matter. But that was something I could think about later. Right now, I had more urgent business.
I opened my mouth to check on Elda's condition.
"Sorry. How's your stomach?"
"Hah... I'm fine now. And you don't need to apologize. This kind of thing can happen anytime during a spar."
Elda straightened her back and rose to her feet, wiping the saliva from the corner of her mouth.
Good. She was all right. And the faint flush on her cheeks was probably just my imagination.
But while I was still feeling relieved, she pointed at Cheonryeo hanging at my waist.
"Hold on. That sword you're carrying—it doesn't look like an ordinary blade."
"Ah... this is the Heavenly Demon Sword. I picked it up at a weapons shop in the capital not long ago. As I said earlier, I'm still in the process of taming it."
"Good heavens. The Heavenly Demon Sword? That's a cursed demonic blade. Are you really all right carrying it around?"
Elda made a fuss of it.
Well. The way it ran its mouth at every opportunity was a bit of a nuisance, but it wasn't particularly difficult to handle.
I looked at Elda.
"Don't worry. I've already dealt with that curse."
"That's incredible. So many knights tried and failed, and you actually pulled it off. That's amazing."
"Ahem. You don't have to flatter me."
"No, I mean it!"
Elda's dark pearl eyes shone bright and eager. For a moment I could have sworn a wolf's tail was wagging from the hips beneath that slender waist of hers.
Dangerous. I had to maintain the dignity of a Grand Duke. But looking at a heroine's face so full of admiration, I couldn't stop the corner of my mouth from twitching.
I smoothly changed the subject.
"Anyway, I was thinking we might continue with a light spar. Would that be all right?"
"Yes. I won't fall for it this time."
Elda spoke with complete confidence.
Hmph. Acting all tough for a masochistic female who gets off on a gut punch.
Slap!
"Hubby? Why did you suddenly slap yourself?"
"It's nothing. Just an itch I needed to scratch. More importantly, let's begin. I'll yield the first move again."
"Uh... all right. Then... here I come!"
Elda settled into her stance and drew up her mana, her whole body blazing with fighting spirit.
Come to think of it, she'd been calling me Hubby ever since the finals of the Sword Festival. She couldn't actually believe that ridiculous lie I'd told her that day... could she?
Well, whatever.
I'd heard often enough that the women of the northern tribes were aggressive. And besides, it sounded nice, so I decided to let it be.
I put the thought aside. Then I kicked off the ground with all my strength and clashed with Elda as she came charging in.
That evening, in a dormitory of the Imperial Academy, a girl stood before the mirror in a room that was spacious yet neatly kept.
"His Grace has come as a guest professor...? Could the rumors actually be true?"
Lips that held a fresh pink even without a trace of makeup stirred softly. A gleam kindled in eyes that carried starlight, and Aileen, the girl of the stars, recalled the conversation she had overheard in the dining hall that day.
"Hey, guys. I saw Her Highness the Princess with His Grace the Grand Duke near the main building today."
"What? Is that true?"
"What business would the Grand Duke have at the Academy?"
"Well, from what I saw, Her Highness was showing him to the Faculty Residence. Maybe he's coming on as a guest professor?"
"That would be incredible. Getting taught by an actual Sword Master? I'm signing up for his lectures no matter what."
"You think you're the only one? There's going to be a flood of applicants. Honestly, I'm a fan of the Grand Duke. Isn't he ridiculously handsome? Ahh, I want to sit in the very front row and just look at him."
Nngh...
Remembering the girl who had flushed and gushed over him in the dining hall, Aileen clenched her hand. She had been the one eavesdropping, and yet she couldn't stop her spirits from sinking.
Grand Duke Behirith was the man she held in her heart. Was it so wrong to want him all to herself?
Still, the Sword Festival had barely ended and already she would get to see him again. She had been in the middle of resolving to work even harder to draw closer to him when a knock broke through her thoughts.
Knock, knock.
"Student Luke, are you in?"
"What is it?"
"A letter has arrived from the Starrail Barony. It came marked urgent, so I thought you should receive it in person. Are you busy?"
A woman's voice carried through the door. Its owner was Margaret, the maid who managed the dormitories. So that was who was knocking at this hour.
But an urgent letter from the family? There had been no word for some time. Why now? Aileen tilted her head in puzzlement as she answered.
"Yes. One moment, please. I'll be right there."
The door creaked open. After checking that her clothes were in order, Aileen found a young woman of refined bearing standing outside. In her hand was a letter stamped with the seal of House Starrail, so thin that the contents were plainly very brief.
Something about the look of it felt ominous. Margaret held the letter out.
"Here you are."
"Thank you."
"Not at all. Have a good night."
Margaret withdrew with a kind smile. Her footsteps receded down the hall, and Aileen immediately took the letter inside and sat at her desk.
"I knew it. The envelope is thin."
She murmured under her breath as she broke the seal, which was marked with the sword and constellation of stars that symbolized House Starrail.
Letters were a means of contact they often used in place of astronomically expensive communication crystals. When there was news to share or stories to tell, the envelopes sometimes arrived quite thick. A letter this thin could only have come from her father, the head of the house.
For Father to send something marked urgent... what kind of news could it be? She would know once she read it.
Having settled that much, Aileen swallowed dryly and unfolded the page.
Your older brother has awakened.
Return to the family at once.
"......"
Aileen's eyes went wide. A heavy silence settled over the room. The letter held only two lines, but the weight inside them was anything but light. Because what it said was that the real Luke Stareil had woken up.
"Older brother... woke up...?"
Aileen murmured it as if she couldn't believe it. A flood of thoughts crossed through her mind.
Her older brother, who had lain in bed like a vegetable, wasted by a grave illness. The memories of the time they had spent together as children were peaceful ones. And so the news that he had awakened made her glad. She was curious how his body had recovered. At the same time, she worried what would become of her life at the Academy.
And after all those thoughts had come and gone, the one that occupied the largest part of her mind was about the Grand Duke.
If I go back to the family... will I ever have another chance to see him?
The man she held in her heart had come somewhere close—a golden opportunity. If she returned home at a time like this, and if she could no longer attend the Academy... then every point of contact with him would vanish completely.
The moment that thought reached her, Aileen's chest ached with a sharp, prickling pain. Why had she been born a woman only to give up living as one? And why, now, did even the starlight that had found its way into her life have to be stolen away in its entirety? Amid the tangle of confused feelings, Aileen felt a suffocating frustration.
"...I need to swing my sword."
A clear, sweet voice slipped from between small, soft lips. If she moved her body, perhaps this turmoil in her heart would ease, if only a little. With that thought, Aileen left her room.
Her footsteps carried her toward the training grounds. When she happened to look up, the night sky was already spread with the constellations of summer.
Beautiful.
Those points of light glowing softly against the pitch-black. The everyday scenery of the Academy she had walked through day after day. Was it because she might never see any of it again? As she made her way to the training grounds, Aileen diligently gathered every last thing she saw into her memory.
She walked and walked. And when she stepped through the entrance of the training grounds, she could only freeze in place at the face of the man she met there, as if it were some kind of lie.
"..."
"Oh. Luke Stareil. It's been a while since the Sword Festival. Come to train at this late hour, have you?"
"Yes..."
"Don't just stand there. Come in. Have you been well?"
The man with fatally beautiful crimson eyes asked as if he were glad to see her, a faint smile touching his lips—and that smile gouged Aileen's heart. Because it was far too dazzling. And because she might never see that smile again.
Her punctured heart pounded helplessly. Even though she needed to quietly put her one-sided love in order by herself, her chest cruelly refused to listen to her head.
When Aileen remained silent, the man before her looked puzzled. This wouldn't do. If she stayed like this, she would be rude. Aileen forced her mouth open.
"I have been well. I trust Your Grace has been in good health."
"Yeah. A few things came up, but I've been fine."
"I see. But what brings you to the Academy?"
"Ah. I'll be staying here for about a month as a guest professor. I haven't done much teaching, but it should be fine. Come to think of it, you could be called my first disciple, Luke Stareil."
Speaking her false name, the crimson-eyed man curved his mouth into a smile. Aileen's heart pounded even harder.
Why did she have to go home now, of all times? If she'd only had a little more time...
Just as the heart of the girl of the stars was dyeing itself with regret, Behirith's eyes widened slightly.
A reaction she couldn't make sense of. All of a sudden his expression turned grave, and without a word he gave the black sword at his waist a few light taps.
His Grace... was startled by something?
Aileen watched his face and quietly swallowed. It was rare for him to be surprised by anything, and yet he was showing a look like that. It had to be no small matter.
There were only the two of them in the training grounds. Could it be... that he had noticed something about her?
Silence settled over the wide training grounds. Behirith glanced around with a troubled look, confirmed that no one else was there, and then set his expression as if he had made up his mind.
"Luke Stareil. I have one question."
His tone was utterly grave. That rich, low voice sank into Aileen's eardrums.
Ah.
The girl of the stars understood. She had been hoping, however faintly. Anxious that even this relationship might end completely, and yet still carrying a hope. What if he had noticed? What if her wish might come true?
And a moment later, in the quiet of the training grounds, Behirith stepped toward Aileen. Very carefully. And very secretly. In a voice like a whisper, he asked,