The Prince's Humiliation
Ernen let out a hollow laugh. It was because of the report he had received from his subordinate.
“So, she’s been touring the Academy.”
“…Yes.” The subordinate bowed his head, carefully gauging Ernen’s mood. Years of serving him had taught him to recognize when his master’s temper was dangerously frayed.
Ernen leaned back in his chair. His violet eyes had gone cold and still. He had devised a plan—to make the Saintess his own and ascend the throne. That was why he had invited her to the Academy and approached her. He had been confident. In his appearance, his abilities, everything. If he set his mind to it, he believed he could charm even a Saintess. It wasn’t baseless arrogance. He had stolen the hearts of countless noble ladies before.
That confidence had been absolute. He truly believed that if he pursued someone with genuine intent, he could make them his. And finally, the Saintess he had longed for—Julia Librel—had arrived at the Academy.
When he first saw her appearance, even Ernen had been stunned. He had heard reports that she was extraordinary, but seeing her in person went far beyond that. She looked as though a goddess had crafted her with painstaking care… no, as if the goddess herself had descended. Her beauty surpassed any woman Ernen had ever laid eyes on.
His heart had stirred. He was approaching her out of necessity, but it wasn’t unpleasant that her looks alone could draw such admiration. From that moment, something in Ernen’s mindset had shifted. What began as pure calculation had started to mix with a trace of sincerity.
Yet when he approached her with those expectations, things did not unfold as he had imagined. No matter what he said, she gave no reply. She wouldn’t even spare him a glance.
Ernen had been flustered, but he hadn’t retreated. He was certain that with time, the Saintess’s heart would naturally open to him. In the end, that had been a delusion.
Even after spending an entire day at her side, Julia never once looked at him. And it wasn’t just him. The Saintess showed no reaction to anything. She moved through the world as though nothing in it held any interest for her.
At that point, Ernen had begun to reconsider. Perhaps he needed to revise his strategy. The opponent was proving far more difficult than expected. While he had stepped back to refine his approach, a report arrived from his subordinate.
During that time, the Saintess had apparently been exploring the Academy’s interior. That alone was surprising—she had seemed indifferent to everything—but what shocked him more was the person accompanying her.
Kyle Berwen. That notorious scoundrel was said to be constantly at the Saintess’s side.
Why him, of all people? The question crossed Ernen’s mind, but he didn’t dwell on it. He saw this as an opportunity. If the Saintess had taken an interest in the Academy, then he could use that to guide her and build favor.
With that thought, Ernen sought her out—and for the first time, he heard the Saintess’s voice. It brought him no joy. That voice had spoken only to reject him.
“…I don’t like it.”
“…Not interested.”
A calm, decisive refusal that left no room for positive interpretation. Though Ernen had managed to maintain his smile and withdraw, his mood was far from pleasant. His spirits sank, and irritation festered.
Then came another report, as if to compound his displeasure. The Saintess was once again touring the Academy—accompanied by Kyle Berwen.
By now, the truth was unmistakable. Her lack of interest had never been directed at the Academy. It had been aimed at him.
Ernen’s hands trembled. Anger and humiliation coursed through him. When was the last time he had felt this kind of defeat? When his elder brother, the crown prince, had overshadowed him? That had been frustrating, but not like this. At least that outcome had been understandable. This was not.
The Saintess showing no interest in him? He could accept that. Emotionally it stung, but intellectually he understood. People had preferences, and it was possible he simply wasn’t hers. What he could not accept was that the person she had chosen over him was Kyle Berwen.
Kyle Berwen. The disgrace of House Berwen. A fool who had nothing but his family name, and even that had eventually been stripped from him. A troublemaker in every sense—talent, background, character. He was the very definition of trash. If one strained to find a single redeeming quality, it would be his appearance, but even that couldn’t compare to Ernen’s own. The current Kyle looked sickly and haggard, his once-decent looks faded and dull.
By every measure, he was inferior. So to be cast aside in favor of such a man… Ernen felt a humiliation he could barely endure.
His fists shook with rage until, at last, he drew a deep breath and forced himself to calm.
‘There’s still next time.’
That thought steadied him. He had failed to claim the first Saintess, Julia. Though time remained, turning the situation around now seemed nearly impossible. She wouldn’t even acknowledge him, let alone show interest. It was deeply regrettable, but two Saintesses still remained. There was no need to rush.
That realization helped settle his temper. Of course…
‘That bastard is another matter.’
Kyle Berwen still grated on him. If possible, Ernen wanted him gone from his sight immediately. And he had the power to make it happen. Since Kyle had been disowned by House Berwen, a single word to the Academy’s upper echelons would be enough to expel him.
But he couldn’t do it right away.
‘…I can’t afford to cause unnecessary commotion.’
Whatever the reason, the fact that the Saintess kept Kyle close meant she found something about him tolerable. Removing him suddenly would only raise her suspicions. If someone of her stature began asking questions, the matter would surface immediately. That would complicate everything. Expelling a student without justification wasn’t something that could be overlooked—especially if it came to light that Ernen had orchestrated it. His reputation would suffer, and the already precarious succession could collapse entirely. Earning the Saintess’s wrath would be the final blow.
‘From what I’ve heard, the Saintesses are quite close…’
According to his information, the three Saintesses shared a bond nearly as deep as sisters. He couldn’t afford to get on Julia’s bad side. It would likely doom his entire plan.
Still…
‘There’s always a way.’
If expelling Kyle without cause was the problem, then he simply needed to create a legitimate reason. Ernen’s violet eyes gleamed with malice.
***
Lately, Elion’s condition had clearly been strange. He would stare blankly into space or lose focus mid-conversation with friends, breaking the flow of dialogue. The reason was obvious.
It was because of one man.
Kyle Berwen. The Academy’s infamous scoundrel. His reputation was so notorious that everyone knew of him, and naturally, that reputation was abysmal. Yet Elion’s view was different.
At first, it had been nothing more than mild curiosity. Given the terrible rumors, he had wondered what kind of person Kyle truly was. After meeting him in person, that curiosity had grown rapidly. The Kyle he encountered was nothing like the rumors suggested, but the real reason was those eyes. That inexplicable warmth and pity directed at Elion—it had fanned the flames of his interest.
Even then, it was still just curiosity. He simply wanted to know why Kyle harbored such goodwill toward him. Everything changed after he witnessed Kyle’s fight with Bellard.
Through Kyle’s words that day, Elion realized the depth of that goodwill. From then on, Elion had undeniably become strange. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he spent entire days thinking only of Kyle. And after the recent “Knight of the Lake” incident, those feelings had intensified even further.
Even Elion himself didn’t fully understand why. Whenever he thought of Kyle, his heart raced and his face grew hot.
Today was no different. As usual, he walked toward his next lecture hall, mind adrift, occasionally thinking of Kyle.
“Huh? Isn’t that Senior Kyle?”
Elion’s body jolted visibly at Rex’s words. The reason was simple.
‘H-how should I act around Senior…?’
He still hadn’t figured out how to face Kyle—how to respond to the clear goodwill shining in those eyes. Conflicting emotions surged in his chest. He wanted to avoid him, yet he didn’t. He wanted to approach, yet he wanted to run. Even as those contradictory feelings warred within him, Elion’s body naturally turned toward the direction Rex was looking.
Ah, Senior would surely recognize him. He would smile and come over. He would look at him again with those eyes full of that inexplicable warmth.
Elion turned his gaze. A faint, expectant smile had already formed on his face.
And then—
“……”
That expression froze over in an instant.
Kyle was smiling. A bright, radiant smile Elion had never seen before—directed at the Saintess standing beside him.