Princess Aefrid's Misunderstanding
Princess Aefrid had one goal. To surpass the crown prince—at least once—in something, anything. That insufferable man outdid her in every way: looks, personality, talent, social skills, refinement, even the order of their birth.
So Aefrid thought to herself: I'll become a mage and surpass Crown Prince Leonhardt.
Hadn't the court mage said as much?
"Princess Aefrid's magical talent is the kind that appears once every century."
"You're just saying that because I'm a princess, right?"
"What would I gain by flattering you over His Highness the Crown Prince? Even the Tower Master would have to grudgingly accept talent like yours."
Blunt and rude, as mages tended to be—but that's what made him credible. And a direct disciple of the Tower Master, no less! Among the brazen, ill-mannered lot, the Tower Master was the brashest and rudest. If she became his disciple, she'd surpass the crown prince in at least one field.
Aefrid desperately needed that one step ahead.
But then...
To think the Tower Master's attention would be stolen by someone I never saw coming.
A variable had appeared. The protagonist was Ian Ashy. When she witnessed his talent, a grumble escaped her lips unbidden.
I shouldn't have believed that court mage. He called me a once-in-a-century genius. So what did that make Ian Ashy?
The princess puffed out her cheeks in frustration. This is why you can't trust people too much. If that wasn't talent, then what? Some monster forged by ancient training techniques passed down through the ages?
I'll never trust that old court mage again.
"See? The court mage was right after all."
As the saying goes, the elderly hold wisdom. The crumbling Art Department building felt like a dungeon hiding treasure. The seemingly sturdy wooden corridors collapsed underfoot as if sensing she wasn't a student. Barely escaping the hallway traps, dust-laden water poured from the ceiling. Startled into a fall, swarms of spiders and ants erupted from the floor, chilling the princess to her core.
"Y-yes! As expected of Ian Ashy—that man's secret training device hideout!"
Through meticulous tailing and spying that wouldn't be detected, she'd gathered intel. It all pointed to Ian Ashy hiding some extraordinary training method.
And finally... after trials and tribulations, Princess Aefrid had found the secret training machine.
"Ehehe."
Letting slip an unladylike giggle of joy, she quickly covered her mouth. No one heard that, right? Anyway, who'd be in a remote spot like this?
She approached the massive machine in the storeroom cautiously. A worn, crude metal frame. A glass plate for the object to be copied. A slot for feeding paper. Rune circuits to channel mana.
After scrutinizing it, the princess reached one conclusion.
"...Th-this... isn't this a printing press?"
Not the latest model, but definitely an old-fashioned one!
This was the source of Ian Ashy's magical talent? Seriously?
"I-I'm... screwed."
The princess wildly tousled her radiant golden hair. She'd spent three sleepless days and nights searching for this! Sneaking through this "dungeon" (just a rundown Art Department building) like a thieving cat had been exhausting!
Thud!
Startled as her forehead bumped the printing press—zap—she felt mana draining out.
"Huh?"
She tentatively touched it with her fingertip, then yanked back at the sudden sucking sensation. Did printing presses normally drain mana like this? They just printed text on paper, right?
She was right in her guess, but unfortunately, the princess lacked detailed knowledge of printing presses. She had magical talent, not expertise in magical engineering.
Instead, her misconceptions accelerated, fueled by what little she knew.
"Come to think of it, I heard the Mage Tower's been hoarding printing presses like mad."
Buying them up like strategic assets, even drawing the imperial family's attention.
So then...
"N-no way..."
Were printing presses essential for magical training? But how did you train with one?
The princess paced in front of it. Standing right in front. Circling to the side. Leaning in. Even placing her hands on it and shifting poses.
"I definitely heard obscene noises from the dorms."
Was that how it worked? Printing your body directly? Her face flushed at the thought. No, that couldn't be. But with Ian Ashy, it was possible he trained his magic in ways no one in the Mage Tower could—a unique method.
That was when—
—"I don't know! Anyway, let's just finish this quick today!"
—"Got it. I'll try to wrap it up as fast as possible."
Footsteps approached from afar, along with familiar voices. Ian Ashy and the girl with copper-brown hair!
The princess whipped around in alarm, scanning for cover. Only a cleaning supply closet. She hurriedly shoved herself inside and deployed a precise mana veil.
A royal secret art that blocked sound and presence. It didn't make her invisible, but detection was rare this way.
Rarely.
Stale dust. Stiff brooms scraping her skin. Damp mops.
To Aefrid, the cleaning closet was a blasphemous space that denied her very existence.
How dare they put me in a place like this! Most royals would have bolted out complaining after climbing in themselves. But Princess Aefrid was different. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.
I... I found it for real.
Ian had come. This confirmed it was the training ground of the boy favored by the Tower Master!
Aefrid nearly teared up. The ordeal to find this place...
"........."
Still, she swallowed her tears. Now she had to watch Ian Ashy closely.
I have to steal it. His entire training method. Copy it wholesale and claim the Tower Master's discipleship for herself. Royal pride? Lacking skill was shameful, not effort.
It must be some vulgar, obscene training method, right? A continuation of what she'd overheard at the dorms.
"...Gulp."
The princess swallowed hard without realizing. Come to think of it, she might never have seen a man and woman entwined in person.
The two chatted briefly by the printing press before Lena pouted and pointed somewhere.
"Be right back."
Aefrid's face burned redder at those words. Preparing for something, no doubt. She'd heard cleanliness was key for that sort of thing.
As Lena walked away, Ian stood calmly in the storeroom center.
...What’s he doing? Pre-meditation mana breathing? No mana flow at all, though.
Question marks floated over the princess's head when—
"You can come out now."
Her body froze solid.
N-no way... did he...?
Caught? Impossible. This was a royal secret art, shared only among the innermost circles. The court mage had said:
—"Anyone less genius than me won't detect it magically."
And the empire's only greater genius was holed up in the Mage Tower, so no one would catch her.
Right now, Aefrid half-believed the court mage.
Y-yeah. Even so, Ian Ashy isn't Tower Master level.
Clinging to logic, she held her breath.
"......"
Silence stretched. Then Ian spoke again.
"Are you planning to stay hidden, Princess?"
Aefrid's breath caught. How? How did he know? Not just a presence—he'd pinpointed exactly who was hiding.
This man had known from the start and let her watch anyway?
Crash!
Panicking, she flung open the closet door. Mops, scrub brushes, and buckets tumbled out in a heap. The princess tumbled with them, sprawling ungracefully on the floor. Blinking up at Ian Ashy.
The court mage had said only the Tower Master could pierce that mana veil...
"...How long have you known? Ian Ashy."
Her words came out wary and informal. This guy was undoubtedly a monster beyond reason.
Wha—what? She's actually here?
Honestly, I'd been half-doubting until a second ago. I tossed it out casually—if she's eavesdropping, she'll be hiding somewhere.
To seriously aim for the Tower Master's discipleship, she'd be lurking. I kept a straight face, surveying the spilled mops, brooms, rags, and princess.
"...How long have you known? Ian Ashy."
Her flustered expression said it all. Aefrid currently saw me as some extraordinary figure.
Jackpot.
I needed to use the princess as printing press fuel right now. But obviously, she couldn't know that. Using royalty as a mana battery? Blasphemy of the highest order.
So, buildup was key here.
Time to play the mysteriously perceptive type.
I deliberately unfocused my gaze, making it look profound, like staring into the distance.
"I knew from the start."
The princess's eyes shook wildly.