The Scoundrel Goes on a Date (Not Really) with the Imperial Princess

The moment the entrance ceremony blew to pieces and sputtered to an end, the old Fist Saint dragged me straight to the Headmaster's Office.

"You absolute lunatic!! How could you pull a stunt like that out there?!"

"Come on, what was I supposed to do? They were pissing me off."

"Haah... Even so, you should've known when to draw the damn line!!"

"Give me a break, old man. It's not like you're the type to walk on eggshells around the nobility anyway. What's with the massive panic?"

Honestly, a titan of martial prowess like the Fist Saint could comfortably ignore whatever the aristocrats barked, so long as the Emperor himself didn't intervene. Why was he hyperventilating like the sky had caved in?

The second I voiced that question, he erupted.

"The Emperor is the one throwing a holy fit, that's the damn problem!! Those stuck-up bastards flooded him with formal petitions not five minutes after it ended! Now his desk is buried, and he's screaming that his workload just doubled!!"

Wow... The entrance ceremony hadn't even concluded an hour ago, and those high-and-mighty nobles had already scurried off to tattle to the Emperor?

"Just let me live out my final years in peace without another disaster, please!!" the old man pleaded, clutching his temples.

"Don't you think that's asking for a bit much?"

The nerve of this guy. I hadn't even been allowed to retire, yet he expected to kick back and coast through the easy life?

"Besides," I added, "taking one look at the freshmen enrolled this year, there was never a chance in hell things would stay quiet."

"Which is precisely why you, of all people, need to stop making trouble! My skull feels like it's splitting open just dealing with the rest of them!"

"Well, none of that's really my problem, is it?"

The old man stared at me, looking utterly exhausted. He muttered something under his breath along the lines of "Is this punk completely brain-dead?" before swiftly snapping me back to cold, hard reality.

"Hey, Kyle. Wasn't the entire reason you got sent here to clean up after those royal brats in the first place?"

"Wait a second. That assignment was classified imperial intelligence. It shouldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have been briefed to you—how do you know about that?"

"How many decades do you think I've served the imperial court? You think I couldn't connect the dots? One wrong step with those foreign dignitaries and our foreign diplomacy goes up in flames. Did you honestly think Gerard wouldn't deploy his best hound? Granted, when I first saw your name on the seating chart, I figured you were the last person who'd ever set foot here. But the second I saw you scrambling in late, I knew Gerard had bribed you with cold, hard cash."

"Ugh... Okay, gramps, you're actually creeping me out right now..."

Nobody had briefed him, yet he had read my personality and the entire geopolitical backdrop like an open book. It was frankly uncanny. I tried to mock him a bit to shake off the goosebumps, but watching the sly grin spreading across his wrinkled face, I began to suspect he was just a masochistic pervert who enjoyed being insulted. I scowled and took a step back, putting some distance between us.

"Don't go getting weird ideas," the old man chuckled darkly. "I'm only smiling because I'm thrilled imagining just how miserable you're going to be."

Has this geezer gone senile? He was standing right in front of me, practically holding a ritual prayer for my imminent downfall. Seeing him this giddy made my gut churn with unease.

What does he know? Ah, shit... I have a really bad feeling about this.

"What are you scheming?" I demanded.

"Hahahaha!! You'll find out tomorrow! Have fun getting run ragged, brat! I'll be sitting right here, kicking back with a cup of tea while I watch you suffer!!"

With that final, triumphant round of teabagging, he shoved me out into the corridor and slammed the door shut.

Livid, I pounded on the heavy wood with everything I had, but not a peep came from inside. Damn bald-headed geezer, I hope every last strand of your hair falls out!! Hurling one of the cruellest curses known to mankind straight into the void of my heart, I finally gave up and turned around.

"Haaah... What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

The entrance ceremony had been the only item on today's schedule, leaving the rest of the day wide open. The afternoon sun was still blazing high in the sky, and rotting away inside a dormitory room doing absolutely nothing felt like a waste.

"Seriously, where do I go?"

Just as I stood near the main gate pondering my life choices—

"Kyle!!"

Someone shouted my name, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing behind it.

"Kyle, over here!!"

I glanced toward the familiar voice and saw Iris bounding toward me. With a dazzling smile spread across her face and long silver hair swaying behind her like a wagging tail, she looked for all the world like a silver-coated retriever ecstatic to reunite with its master.

Recovering from my momentary daze, I raised an eyebrow. "Your Highness, what are you doing out here? Weren't you supposed to head to the dormitories?"

As far as I knew, aside from me being dragged off by the Fist Saint, every other student had been escorted straight to their living quarters. Wondering why on earth this silver pup was wandering around outside, I pressed for an explanation.

Iris planted her hands firmly on her hips, puffed out her chest, and gave me an immensely proud, triumphant smirk.

"I checked in and came straight back out so we could explore the academy together, of course!!"

"So you dumped your luggage and stood out here waiting for me all this time?"

Even if my meeting hadn't dragged on, she must have been waiting anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour. In early March, when the lingering winter chill still bit at the skin? An imperial princess?

"Yep!"

She didn't care in the slightest whether I was bewildered or appalled. Her cheerful chirp, paired with that eager expression—practically panting with a leash in her mouth, begging to be taken on a walk—drew an involuntary chuckle from my lips.

"Fine, let's do it. I was bored out of my mind with nothing to do anyway."

It felt like a much younger sister tugging on my sleeve, begging to play, which made it hard to turn her down. Honestly, I didn't mind the distraction either.

"Really? You're not lying? You're not going to pull your usual trick where you say yes and then suddenly ditch me because it's too much of a hassle, right?"

My unusually compliant attitude instantly raised her suspicions, but I shook my head.

"I won't do that this time."

The moment the confirmation left my mouth, Iris bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, practically glowing with delight.

"Yay!! Kyle, then let's tour the academy grounds, head down to the commercial district to eat something delicious, and visit a café too!!"

Before I could even answer, she snatched my arm, locked hers tightly around it, and dragged me sprinting straight toward the interior of the main building.

Startled by the sudden contact, my immediate instinct was to yank my arm free. But catching the uninhibited, radiant grin across her face, the tension drained from my shoulders. I let my guard down and simply allowed myself to be pulled along.

To tell the truth, despite all my grumbling before arriving here, seeing the sheer grandeur of the academy stirred something old within me. In my previous life, whenever I stumbled home exhausted from endless overtime and read academy web novels late into the night, I had constantly wished for a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chance to experience student life again.

Though the wish hadn't been granted in quite the way I had envisioned, the fact that it was happening at all sparked a strange, exhilarating flutter in my chest. A genuine sense of anticipation began to take root.

Savoring that long-forgotten excitement, I watched Iris's back as she led the way.

In that fleeting heartbeat—

For a split second, the silhouette of another girl overlapped with Iris's back.

The illusion dissolved almost instantly. Yet, much like the lingering trace of bitterness at the bottom of an overly sweet latte, an echo of the past remained, leaving behind a faint, wistful ache in my heart.

Wandering through the academy with Iris, one overwhelming reality made itself abundantly clear: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this place was humongous.

The main building we first visited was larger than ten regulation soccer fields stitched together, and apparently, that colossal structure was used solely for homeroom administration, theoretical lectures, and general liberal arts courses.

Aside from the main complex, there were dedicated annexes for every single discipline taught at the academy—a Swordsmanship Hall, a Magic Hall, a Holy Divinity Hall, an Elemental Hall, and on and on.

Even after roaming the grounds with Iris for nearly three hours, we hadn't managed to cover a tenth of the campus.

Still, having scoped out the critical facilities and the main academic halls, it felt like the right time to grab a meal. I hadn't eaten a single bite since morning, and my stomach was ready to cave in.

"Your Highness, aren't you getting hungry?"

I couldn't just wander off to eat alone, and considering the hours we had spent walking, I figured she had to be starving as well.

"Yeah!! Walking around so much really worked up an appetite!!"

Fortunately, she was on the exact same page.

"Where would you like to eat?"

"Hmm... I noticed earlier that the dining halls on campus are already closed for the day. Let's go to the commercial district! There are tons of famous restaurants there, and I really want to try the street food too!!"

The moment the topic turned to food, Iris launched into an excited rattle of popular eateries in the market, her eyes sparkling with intense curiosity about the street vendors. She practically took a solemn vow to sample every street snack after finishing her proper meal.

Watching her passionate display, my gaze naturally drifted downward toward her midsection. A genuine doubt crossed my mind: could that slender, delicate belly actually hold that much food?

Then again... if it's this little glutton, she just might pull it off.

Recalling the bottomless appetite she had displayed in the past, it was entirely within the realm of possibility.

Catching my blatantly skeptical stare, Iris flushed crimson. She hastily shielded her stomach with both hands and glared daggers at me.

"Kyle! You were just thinking I'm a pig, weren't you?!"

"Me? Absolutely not. Whatever gave you that impression?"

I twitched slightly on the inside, but maintained an immaculate poker face.

"Tch... Don't lie. Those were definitely the eyes of someone looking at a pig."

Whoa... Is this what they call woman's intuition? Does she possess some kind of psychic clairvoyance?

"How could I possibly harbor such insolent thoughts toward Your Imperial Highness?"

"Knowing you, Kyle? You'd do it without batting an eye!"

"......"

Hit with the absolute bullseye of truth, I found myself struck dumb. When I averted my gaze, her eyes narrowed into razor-sharp slits.

Desperately spinning the gears in my head to defuse the situation, an idea struck me.

"Ah! Speaking of which, we'll need to hire a carriage to get to the commercial district!"

Remembering that traveling between the academy grounds and the merchant quarter required dedicated transport, I immediately bolted toward the carriage rental depot and secured a coach.

Of course, that also meant sharing the enclosed cabin with her.

Bzzzzzzzzz—

The entire ride over, I had to endure the searing beam of Iris's uninterrupted death glare.

For thirty excruciating minutes, I sat under her gaze, feeling as though she had mounted twin lasers directly onto her retinas.

So that buzzing sound in rom-coms isn't an onomatopoeia people make with their mouths; it's the actual mechanical hum of lasers firing out of someone's eyeballs, I thought, indulging ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in thoroughly useless musings on historical accuracy.

"We have arrived, esteemed guests," the coachman announced as the carriage smoothly drew to a halt.

The moment we stopped, I stepped out onto the pavement and offered my hand to escort the princess down.

"Your Highness, watch your step."

Iris accepted my hand and disembarked without making a scene.

"....."

However, her cheeks were puffed out like a disgruntled squirrel, and she pointedly refused to look me in the eye.

Even after I paid the driver and returned, she was still thoroughly sulking. Just as I was agonizing over how to break the ice, a piece of sage advice Alpheus had given me back in the day surfaced in my memory.

Considering the man's usual track record, his advice felt deeply unreliable. But hey, the guy did have a wedding ring on his finger, so maybe there was some merit to it.

Taking the gamble, I dragged the pouting Iris through the streets and began feeding her everything in sight: tanghulu, crepes, artisanal ice cream, and high-end boutique pastries.

"Hehehe..."

After about an hour of relentless sugar consumption, Iris had devolved into a state of blissful, dreamy giggles.

Holy crap... It actually worked.

While a microscopic droplet of newfound respect sprouted for Alpheus—a decent brother-in-arms whom I had previously never respected in the slightest—Iris's state of mind seemed to have transcended mere contentment. Her brain appeared thoroughly pickled in sucrose, transforming her cognitive functions into a field of wildflowers. It was enough to make me wonder if the shopkeepers had slipped actual narcotics into the frosting instead of powdered sugar.

As I was seriously debating the sugar-equals-narcotics hypothesis and wondering if we ought to head back to the dorms, a voice broke through the crowd.

"My, is that not Her Imperial Highness?"

A group of young aristocrats was making their way toward us.

The leader of the pack was a young man with slicked-back, muddy-green hair and eyes the color of rusted bronze. Wearing the arrogant sneer quintessential to highborn nobility, he fixed his gaze exclusively on Iris, offering a greeting laced with a blatantly suggestive, romantic intensity.

"What an exquisite pleasure it is to encounter Your Highness in a place such as this."

Iris wore a visibly lukewarm expression, though she maintained basic aristocratic protocol and replied, "Yes, it is good to see you as well, Young Lord Paulstein."

Hearing that surname, a faint bell rang in the back of my mind. Before I could place it, the green-haired noble spoke again.

"If I may be so bold, Your Highness... might I inquire as to the identity of the commoner accompanying you?"

I was standing right in front of him, yet he addressed the question entirely to Iris while pointedly looking over my head. Before I could even scoff at his sheer rudeness, our eyes briefly locked.

The gaze he shot me dripped with venomous contempt, raw jealousy, and barely concealed fury.

Seeing that familiar, scornful sneer reserved exclusively for commoners, the pieces instantly clicked. I finally remembered why the name sounded so familiar.

The Paulstein Ducal House.

A founding pillar of the Dragonia Empire, occupying one of the realm's mere five ducal seats. The way this punk looked at me was the spitting image of his father's expression whenever the old Duke crossed paths with me at the Imperial Palace.

And with that revelation, the reason behind the jealousy burning in his eyes became glaringly obvious.

Wait... didn't this bastard propose to Iris a while back and get flat-out rejected?

Which meant that right now, in this guy's delusional, self-centered narrative... was I being cast as the sleazy, tanned delinquent stealing his precious maiden?

Just seconds ago, I had viewed him as nothing more than an irritating cockroach buzzing in front of my face. But now that I understood the context, he suddenly looked like an immensely entertaining toy.

Oh, this is going to be hilarious to mess with.

The guy had never held Iris's affection for a single second, yet he was already playing out a tragic netorare betrayal in his own twisted head. The sheer comedic potential made my mouth water, and my mind began racing with all the delightful ways I could torment him.