A Body Unfit to Swing a Sword
First and foremost, the wretch who attempted to assassinate Cecilia was carted off to the imperial capital's prison.
Even though he was an incoming freshman, that status carried no weight here. He had neither the clout to shake the Academy nor the standing to walk away unscathed after launching a terror attack against an imperial princess. While I couldn't predict the precise fate awaiting him, he was likely enduring something far worse than anything I had inflicted.
In the previous installment of Assassin Project, there existed a brutal organization known as the Inquisitors, notorious for torturing sinners with sadistic zeal. I had little doubt an outfit of that nature still operated in this era.
In any case, according to the intel Rin passed along, someone had posted a bounty through an illicit syndicate called Nameless to strike at Cecilia. Specifically, the contract had merely instructed the operative to attack the blonde woman delivering the address at the Academy's entrance ceremony. Because the broker had been kept in the dark about the client's true identity, even the operatives at Nameless couldn't trace the puppet master pulling the strings.
And that was essentially where the trail went cold. Since Rin hadn't shared any further details, my daily routine remained unchanged: sticking quietly by Cecilia's side.
"Serena."
"...Yes?"
"I'm bored. Shall we go buy some bread?"
"...Your Highness. Are you bored?"
"Yes, dreadfully so. The next period is Magic Studies, which is at least tolerable, but didn't we just endure an utterly tedious grammar lecture?"
With class dismissed, Cecilia wore an expression of sheer discontent. In truth, for quite some time now—or rather, for the past several days—she hadn't shown the slightest enthusiasm for her Academy coursework. She harbored a particular distaste for subjects like grammar, etiquette, and the traditional aristocratic staples of economics and estate management. If there was a single field in which she displayed even a flicker of interest, it was fighting.
Well, calling it "fighting" was perhaps an overstatement, but she seemed genuinely fascinated by disciplines like swordsmanship and magic.
"Understood. Then let us make it quick before the next period begins."
"Fufu, look at you, listening to me without a fuss for once. How commendable."
"What would you like to eat, Your Highness?"
"Who knows. Perhaps a sandwich, which will certainly taste better than anything you could make?"
"......."
Trading barbs like that, we made our way toward the Academy's commissary. Though students from the first through third years crowded the hallways, navigating the corridors posed no difficulty whatsoever. And naturally so.
"What is imperial status, really? Is it comparable to being a cockroach?"
"Pardon?"
"Every time I take a step forward, everyone scrambles out of my path."
"Ah."
Whenever Cecilia walked anywhere, the crowd parted cleanly before her, like the parting of the sea. Was it because she was an Imperial Princess, and currently the only royal attending the Academy? A staggering number of students made a habit of clearing out the instant they caught sight of her. Sure, she was royalty, and someone best approached with caution, but plastering themselves flat against the walls the way they were doing now was honestly absurd.
"Am I truly someone people need to avoid to such an extent?"
"......."
Cecilia spoke with genuine bewilderment, but frankly, I couldn't fathom how she failed to understand. Anyone looking at her could tell her temperament wasn't exactly gentle—who wouldn't steer clear? It seemed entirely natural to me. Still, seeing as she remained utterly oblivious, I simply decided to let it slide and nodded along.
Though, to be fair, the issue wasn't merely that her personality was rough around the edges, but rather that a princess with a fiery temper was an inherently terrifying prospect.
"By the way, Your Highness, how have you been finding the Magic Studies lectures lately?"
"Magic Studies? Why bring that up out of nowhere?"
"It's just that Your Highness appears rather attentive during them. I wondered if you might have developed a genuine fondness for magic."
"Hmm... Well, compared to other subjects, magic is somewhat more amusing. Swordsmanship is reasonably entertaining as well, but my body refuses to cooperate."
Trading these casual remarks with Cecilia had become second nature by now. At first, I hadn't imagined we would ever grow this close, but we had settled into a comfortable rhythm. We could engage in light, trivial banter without a second thought, even though barely a month had passed since I entered her service.
"It does seem Your Highness possesses a fair bit of talent. More for magic than the blade, perhaps?"
"You think so as well? Swords are intriguing, but moving with one feels terribly cumbersome."
"Haha, that is understandable. Truly."
I did my utmost to swallow the words, Of course it is.
Honestly, if we had been just a little closer, I would have blurted it out without hesitation. And if we were truly close friends, I would have outright asked, With breasts that massive, how could you possibly swing a sword properly? Her chest was so voluptuous that holding back such a remark took considerable effort. Realistically speaking, far from mastering swordplay, her body was completely unsuited for swinging a blade in the first place.
It was a world away from my own body, where running a hand straight down my front yielded nothing more than the faintest, negligible swell.
"Once I reach my second year, I'll likely declare a major in magic. I have no intention of continuing with subjects that bore me to tears anyway."
"...I had hoped Your Highness might apply yourself a bit more to political science or economics as well."
"I am only the Third Princess. Why bother learning such things?"
"Ah."
Is that so. I suppose she had a point.
"Never mind that. Hurry up and pick a pastry. Recess is nearly over."
"Yes, of course. Will a single sandwich truly be enough for Your Highness?"
"Yes."
...Good grief.
Magic Studies was, generally speaking, a rather quintessential fantasy-style lecture. Granted, it was magic, so naturally it belonged to fantasy, but compared to the Academy's other classes, it carried an unmistakably mystical atmosphere.
"Everyone, open your textbooks to page five and practice invoking the low-tier magic we covered last session."
Of course, I wasn't actually participating in the lesson—I merely sat quietly beside Cecilia. Even so, it was quite a sight to behold.
"Spark, blossom."
Sitting beside me, Cecilia gathered mana at her fingertips as she uttered the incantation, and a flame sprang to life. Calling it a mere "spark" felt misleading; it was a fire roughly the size of a fist, easily surpassing the tiny embers conjured by the students sitting around us.
Low-tier magic—no, calling it low-tier magic was being generous. It was foundational magic. It was basic magic meant to teach students how to manifest mana into an external shape for the first time. The fact that Cecilia produced such impressive firepower despite that proved she had unmistakable talent. Having studied magic myself, I could recognize her aptitude immediately. Granted, my own magical training wasn't the orthodox kind taught in academies, but rather the practical sort utilized for assassinations.
"Hmm..."
"Your Highness, you should extinguish it."
"I know. I was merely wondering how long it would sustain itself."
At any rate, Cecilia showed genuine enthusiasm during Magic Studies. Her demeanor was vastly improved compared to previous classes. Witnessing Cecilia truly focus was a rare sight, making it all the more notable. Back at the Golden Pavilion or in the dorms, she spent most of her time sprawled out on a bed or sofa, and she tended to relax rather excessively during other lectures as well. Seeing her earnestly engage with the curriculum was quite refreshing.
Though, knowing her, she would probably revert to her usual lethargic self the moment the next class began.
"When weaving spells through chanting, you must always focus intently on the flow of your own mana. Failing the spells you cast today will not harm your bodies, but should you botch an invocation while casting magic of a far higher order... you will pray never to repeat the experience."
The magic professor lectured while pacing through the classroom. Since the students here were inherently talented to begin with, there was little need for long-winded explanations. Simply proceeding step-by-step according to the textbook proved more than sufficient. In fact, given that every student in the room—including Cecilia—had executed the magic without any real trouble, the professor had very little reason to intervene. Of course, Cecilia's execution remained distinctly superior to the rest.
"Nnnh..."
"Is something the matter?"
"An incantation is essentially just giving precise form to mana through thought, isn't it?"
"That is correct."
Cecilia was addressing me without paying any mind to the ongoing lecture. Well, it wasn't as if I were a student anyway.
"Then it shouldn't matter if one doesn't adhere strictly to the chants in this text, right?"
"......."
"Even if I conceptualize a spark as a flare or a blaze, there shouldn't be any issue."
"Your Highness, you are aware class is currently in session, yes? You aren't planning to cast something bizarre, are you?"
I couldn't help but voice my concern. After all, Cecilia had suddenly turned to me with an unnervingly profound glint in her eyes to ask that question. Inquiring about the fundamental nature of incantations out of the blue, with that curious lilt in her voice... She was easing into the conversation like a mad scientist on the brink of an experiment, and a creeping sense of dread began to—
"Frost, flourish."
The instant before I could finish the thought, she aimed a finger toward the window and breathed out that brief phrase. In that very moment, mana surged from Cecilia's fingertip, crystallizing into ice—
Craaack—!
"Oh my. It actually worked."
"......."
It froze the window. To be precise, it didn't just freeze the glass; it caused ice to sprout across it. And it was astonishingly, exquisitely transparent ice—the kind that was notoriously difficult to produce through conventional means. It was crystal-clear yet preserved a razor-sharp edge, the kind of frost that made you realize, without a doubt, This is true magic.
Witnessing that display reaffirmed that Cecilia possessed formidable magical talent.
Even so, casting an unapproved, unrelated spell without permission earned her a sharp scolding from the magic professor. Not that Cecilia seemed particularly bothered by it, of course.