There Are No Liberal Arts Classes
The hero party that supposedly drove off Pector is probably not right in the head.
“So they couldn’t even land a finishing blow on him?”
The brat with the holy sword couldn’t manage even that? Fuck, if I’d been holding it, Pector’s head would’ve been rolling. The son of a bitch is just insanely good at running away—that’s the only reason I couldn’t catch him easily.
The details are not known.
“Fine.”
No need to hear any more. Why wouldn’t the details be known? Because the best they could do against Pector was hold out, that’s why. The kingdom that produced the hero can’t exactly broadcast his disgrace. And claiming a glorious victory while the fortress lies in ruins would be pretty awkward.
I also looked into your sister’s personal connections.
“Go on.”
Let’s hear just how dazzling her life really was.
It appears she was quite close with the young lady from Count Noier’s house.
“Noier… Hm, never heard of them.”
If I’ve never heard the name, it can’t have been that prestigious. At the very least, they never crossed paths with me when I first arrived in the empire.
Pardon?
“Never mind. What else?”
Other than that…
The rest was exactly what I’d expected. Olivia’s relationship with the crown prince. Her ties to his close aides. Her connection to Lily. Every single one of them made me question whether they could even manage basic social interaction.
“Hmm. What does Lily look like?”
Excuse me? That is…
“Just answer the question.”
Since we’re in the same academy, we’re bound to run into each other eventually. It’s actually a relief we haven’t met until now. If I ran into her without knowing what she looked like and pretended it was our first meeting, the whole act would fall apart.
She falls far short of you, my lady. She ties her pink hair in two bunches on either side, and her figure is… honestly unimpressive. She probably wouldn’t even fetch a decent price in the slave trade.
These guys really have guts, casually trash-talking their boss’s little sister like that. But if even these human-trafficking scumbags call her “yawning level,” it means her looks are genuinely worthless. So she didn’t hook the crown prince with her face. And judging by his expression, he doesn’t seem brainwashed either. I’d only asked on a hunch, but sure enough, the original owner really had been human garbage.
“Understood. Good work. I won’t be in touch for a while, so keep that in mind.”
Um…
“I’ll send your payment through the usual channel.”
For now, I should sell off some of the things the original owner left behind. That money could cover the informant’s fee and leave me with living expenses for the time being.
“Right. This should work.”
One thing I realized while traveling with the hero’s party: I’ve never met a single decent woman with pink hair. Every time the hero visited a brothel, there was a high chance a pink-haired girl would be there. I wonder if Lily is any different.
My little sister had been an impossibly arrogant girl who treated her older brother like a rock.
—Can’t you even memorize this?
—Do you think I’m the same as you, Oppa?
—How can you not know something you’d see right away? Are you even human?
—You’re the weird one!
She was ugly and arrogant. I was heading into the library when I sensed a presence nearby.
“Olivia unnie?”
“Huh?”
That pink hair tied in twin tails looked familiar. Ah, so that’s Lily.
Now I understood why the informant had called her “yawning level.” She really was built like a straight line. Her appearance left a lot to be desired.
Suddenly I grew curious. How had someone with such an unremarkable body managed to gather so many men as followers? It feels wrong to say it, but she looked like even the perverted hero wouldn’t want to sleep with her. On the surface she wasn’t terrible, but she was so plain that no man would be drawn to her purely by looks.
“Unnie, what happened to your white hair?”
“What?”
Physical changes from magic weren’t unheard of among mages, so it wasn’t strange enough to draw questions. But apparently at the imperial academy it looked bizarre.
“You must have suffered so much because of His Highness the Crown Prince. Your beautiful hair turned completely white~ But don’t worry anymore! This little sister will take full responsibility for His Highness!”
Her personality was somehow irritating. In short, it sounded like Since you’re the loser now, it’s only natural that I, the winner, get the crown prince.
“Ah, I see.”
Yes, please don’t let me off the hook. If you do, that duke bastard might try to push Olivia onto him again. Especially after seeing how I look now, he’d definitely try to force the issue.
“Huh?”
“What?”
“Something feels off. Did something happen to your head, unnie?”
Why was this bitch suddenly picking a fight?
“Me? No? Why? I feel better than ever.”
“R-really?”
“Yes, really. Keep working hard. Looking at you, I can tell just how sincere His Highness is.”
Exactly. If he likes a body this pathetic, that guy must be the real deal. He truly loves Lily. Her face wasn’t that bad, at least.
Suddenly the conversation I’d had with the hero flashed through my mind.
—Do you seriously shake your hips for anyone? Even if her face is orc-level, you’d still do it if the body’s good?
—Heh heh heh. What do you know, you gloomy bastard. If you turn off the lights, cover her face with a pillow, it’s doable.
—You said that with your own mouth and don’t find it weird? Who’s the gloomy one here?
Well, whatever. Spending time with that guy had clearly warped my standards. Love is beautiful. I sincerely cheer for Lily. Seeing her win the crown prince’s heart despite being far less attractive than Olivia, their love must be genuine.
Besides, to the young noblemen, Lily would feel refreshingly different. Unlike the noble ladies they were forced to marry for family reasons, she had good blood but a commoner-like personality. That must have been novel for them. And the biggest problem—her family background—was solved since she carried Ashtar blood. She was perfectly qualified to become the crown prince’s bride.
“Are we done here?”
“Ah, um. Yes.”
“From now on, you’re the duke’s young lady. Goodbye.”
Any more conversation would clearly be her trying to mock me, so I stepped into the library.
As expected, Plene would probably know the best places to sell clothes.
“Um, Plene.”
“Yes. Please speak.”
“I’m thinking of selling some dresses. Do you know any good places?”
Plene seemed like she would know. I thought about asking Lily since she seemed to have lived like a commoner, but mentioning it to her would naturally lead to the crown prince. I couldn’t afford Aslan’s interference. No way.
“Ah. By dresses, you mean…”
“My own dresses.”
Well, technically the original owner’s.
“Would anyone in the capital be willing to buy them?”
“Hmm? You mean they wouldn’t sell?”
“No, they’d probably fetch a high price. Of course, if it’s a tailor that serves noble houses, maybe… but wouldn’t it be troublesome? Why not sell them directly to other noble young ladies instead?”
Ah, that made sense. Just the dresses stuffed in the dormitory closet were already numerous.
“Not a bad idea. Where would the noble young ladies usually be?”
There had been quite a few in the magic department, but I’d already wrecked that place. So then…
“Wouldn’t it be the liberal arts class?”
“Oh, right. I’ll try selling them tomorrow.”
Noble young ladies valued liberal arts, after all.
“Y-you’re really going to sell them?”
“What, should I leave one that would suit you, Plene?”
There were so many anyway. Giving her one wouldn’t matter. Or I could just sell them all and dump whatever was left on her if it got annoying.
“Ah. No, thank you.”
“Hm?”
Why the troubled expression? When I tilted my head in confusion, Plene’s eyebrows trembled and she finally spoke.
“No matter how much of an Ashtar young lady you are, that’s going too far.”
She lowered her head as she said it. Wait, where exactly was she looking?
“Hmm? Ah.”
I finally understood why Plene was scolding me like this, forgetting the difference in status. Look at her chest. It reminded me of the paper-thin flour bread we ate during the journey with the hero’s party. A completely flat chest like a washboard. The perfect height for a dining table. In contrast, Olivia’s body was extremely well-endowed in that area.
—Mine are bigger, you know?
—But mine are prettier!
—They’re uneven!
—Most women’s breasts are uneven, you know? Yours is bigger on the right too!
Ah, those girls had said things like that. Lily was a bit suspicious after all. Women seemed to have unnecessary complexes about breast size.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you? This is purely an issue of wealth disparity! You, Lady Ashtar, grew up eating well and receiving excellent care, but I—!”
Her voice was filled with such resentment that I couldn’t even refute her. I simply shut my mouth. It seemed her small chest was a massive complex; the way she sobbed looked truly pitiful.
“Uh… Well… I mean, that can happen. Yeah.”
They might grow someday. When I muttered that, she glared at me like she wanted to kill me. What did she want me to do about it? If she’s upset, she should just make them bigger.
The next day, I rummaged through the original owner’s wardrobe.
“Good. Everything’s ready.”
The original owner had gathered the empire’s best tailors and designers just to look good for the crown prince, creating every kind of clothing imaginable. Not only that, she’d spent a fortune collecting rare accessories from all over the world. Thanks to that, the wardrobe I’d brought from the Ashtar estate was a magical one, and even then it had barely been enough to hold everything.
When I took it all out, there was an absurd amount. I selected a few pieces and headed to the liberal arts classroom.
“Oh my. Look at her. Showing up to class with such a shameless face.”
“She’s not even wearing that bizarre makeup. Does she not even have money for cosmetics anymore?”
“It was pretty weird, wasn’t it? But what’s she holding in both hands?”
“Who knows?”
As soon as I arrived, mockery poured down on me as expected. Makeup? Had the original owner caked it on that heavily? Whatever. I spread out the items I was carrying on the desk in front of the lectern. The luxurious papers covered in magical formulas unfolded neatly, revealing the dresses I’d brought.
“Anyone want to buy a dress?”
“Dresses? Wait, doesn’t the Ashtar family employ the empire’s greatest tailor?”
The Ashtar house lacked for nothing. So just knowing I was from Ashtar was enough to draw the attention of these young ladies obsessed with glamorous dresses.
“I’ll sell them at whatever price you young ladies can offer using your family names as guarantee.”
To be honest, I didn’t know the exact prices. Well, I had some idea. The crazy saintess and that Kahn woman had made me run errands buying clothes. Even though I hated it, the saintess would tattle to the church if I refused, so I had no choice but to do it. These dresses, however, were so exquisitely made that I couldn’t even guess their value. They were probably all custom pieces. Only clothes that looked like they’d taken an insane amount of effort.
“R-really? The Ashtar young lady is selling these precious things?”
They seemed to already know the value. That made things easier.
“Not interested?”
“You won’t regret it? Lady Ashtar?”
Of course not. They might have been precious to the original owner, but to me they were nothing but poison. How was I supposed to wear something dripping with lace? They were unsuitable for combat and I couldn’t even run in them.
“Of course. Come now, show me the highest prices you young ladies can offer on your family names.”
Once family names entered the picture, the bids would surely be substantial. Before long, the liberal arts classroom had turned into an auction house. Young ladies lacking accessories or dresses began bidding on the ones I’d brought.
“Ten million lino!”
“Twelve million lino!”
Looks like I hooked them properly. I’d already earned back the tuition fees.