Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Second Meeting (2)
At last, the day of the Imperial Academy entrance exam arrived.
From early morning, the front gate of the academy was overflowing with people.
Luxurious carriages bearing family crests lined up endlessly, and among them stood examinees with tense expressions.
"Did you bring the whistle? The pendant? The recommendation letter?"
Yuki fussed over my clothes dozens of times, unable to stay still.
"Yes, I have everything."
"If you fail, you become my personal servant, remember? That means you have to pass, you idiot!"
Leaving behind her half-complaint, half-encouragement, I entered the Arts Department exam hall.
"Hey, examinee. Show your pass."
An assistant with sharp glasses stopped me at the entrance.
Among the nobles dressed in fine silk, my worn sketchbook and paints stood out clearly.
"Ian. Recommended by the Castel ducal house."
"...The ducal house? Ah, that unusual commoner."
Curiosity and disdain mixed in the assistant’s gaze.
But I didn’t care.
I just wanted to finish this troublesome process quickly.
"A commoner with a ducal recommendation… lucky, aren’t you?"
"Hmph. Art is born from bloodline and refinement. What could a country boy possibly produce?"
Whispers spread throughout the hall.
To me, they were nothing more than meaningless noise scattered in the air.
The first stage was the basic knowledge test.
Inside the grand stone hall, hundreds of desks were arranged in perfect rows.
Magical lights hanging from the ceiling cast a solemn glow.
"The subjects are imperial history, etiquette, and general knowledge. Time limit: two hours. Begin!"
As the signal was given, papers were distributed.
The scratching of quills filled the room.
I scanned the test calmly.
Question 1. Describe the three core clauses of the Male Protection Act enacted by the Third Emperor, Rosemary von Solaris.
...Protection law.
Something I had heard countless times even in the village.
Men are delicate and must avoid going out after 10 PM. Women must always speak gently for their emotional stability.
I wrote my answers without hesitation.
The knowledge from Yuki’s books and the village library connected naturally in my mind.
Question 15. When a woman invites a man to dance at a noble banquet, what is the proper way to decline?
Cover your mouth with a handkerchief and shyly shake your head.
Politely say, "I am unwell and would appreciate your understanding."
Accept unconditionally.
...Somewhere between 1 and 2.
I chose 2.
In the village, I would’ve said, "Put down the hammer first," to Kara.
But capital etiquette was clearly more… delicate.
"Hey, look at him. He hasn’t stopped writing once."
"Hmph. He’s just scribbling because he doesn’t know anything."
A noble beside me sneered.
I ignored him and continued.
The test covered historical events.
The strategy used by the Castel family head during the barbarian uprising twenty years ago?
Yuki had talked about this endlessly.
Leading only a hundred knights, charging into enemy lines, forcing surrender.
I wrote calmly.
Midway through the exam, a young female proctor stopped beside me.
She glanced at my paper and widened her eyes.
I ignored her and finished the last question.
Describe in one sentence why you deserve admission.
I paused.
Then wrote simply:
Because I want to quietly draw and observe the world.
"Time’s up! Put your pens down!"
I submitted my paper and left without regret.
As soon as I stepped outside—
someone lifted me into the air.
"Ian—! You did well! Are you hungry?"
Lil.
She had been waiting outside the Arts building.
"You came for me?"
"Of course! I’m cheering for my junior!"
She hugged me tightly, patting my back.
Her scent—warm like butter—wrapped around me again.
"Here, I made you a lunchbox."
Inside were neatly packed sandwiches and warm milk.
"Aren’t you eating?"
"You’re more important today. Now, say ‘ah.’"
Just as I was about to accept—
"YOU—!! GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY IAN!!"
A storm approached.
Yuki, dress fluttering, sword in hand, face burning red with jealousy.
"Lady Yuki, that’s a scary expression. You’ll frighten Ian."
Lil smiled calmly, shielding me behind her.
"Shut up, you pervert! Ian, come here! That suspicious lunch will give you a stomachache!"
"Pervert? I’m just a caring older brother."
Please just start the exam already.
The second test—the practical.
Inside, large canvases stood in rows.
I took my place.
"The topic is ‘vitality.’ Make what you paint appear alive. Time limit: three hours."
Everyone immediately began painting.
Dragons. Banquets. Flowers. Lions.
Colorful. Loud. Flashy.
I closed my eyes.
Vitality.
Simplicity. Black and white.
That’s enough.
I took only black paint.
Color only obscures the line.
I raised my brush.
And drew.
Slow.
Precise.
Unbroken.
"...What is he doing? He’s only drawing lines."
"That’s not art. That’s scribbling."
I ignored them.
I wasn’t drawing a bird.
I was creating the place where a bird could exist.
Gradually—
a small bird emerged.
No color.
No background.
Only the moment before flight.
Muscles tensed.
A single instant captured.
I placed one final dot for the eye.
"…You."
A voice trembled.
Professor Beatrice.
The exam ended.
Judges moved between works.
"Excellent dragon."
"Beautiful flowers."
But she stopped at mine.
"Silence."
The room quieted.
Her eyes shook.
"Incredible… perfect understanding of form. You cannot create this without seeing through everything."
Everyone turned.
Among brilliant paintings—
my black-lined bird stood out.
Alive.
"I didn’t use color."
I spoke calmly.
"Living things aren’t alive because they are beautiful. They are alive because they have a reason to move."