Good Changes, Bad Changes
The first time Elga asked if he had time that weekend, what Kyle had hoped to hear was something like this:
"I've been wanting to train properly myself. Could you teach me?"
That sort of offer he would have accepted without a second thought.
Just because someone was a young lady of high birth did not mean she should spend her days only fluttering the hem of a dress and tilting teacups. It was terrible for the health.
What did they actually do all day? Sit and gossip. Drink tea and gossip. That was the entire job description!
Move a little! Get those hips off the chair! What were those legs for—boiling into soup later?
A human being was born with the finest possible body for movement.
Even if someone hated exercise instead of reveling in it the way a John Nassen did, a certain amount of training was still good for their health.
And yet the answer that tumbled out of Elga's mouth next drew an involuntary sigh from him.
"A meeting with His Grace the Archduke of Litorio."
"Yes, Kyle."
"…I think an urgent appointment is going to come up this weekend."
"What are you talking about? Do you actually have plans?"
"Not yet, but I suspect they will appear."
"What is that even supposed to mean?!"
That was exactly the question Kyle wanted to throw back at her.
What is that supposed to mean?! I thought you were joking—you were serious?!
You want me to actually meet the Archduke of Litorio? A John Nassen?
I should have booked myself some excuse appointment for the weekend, he thought.
If only the Fifth Princess, Yulika, would show up right about now and drag him off for a sparring match.
Unfortunately she was currently headed for the John Nassen Territory and had not yet returned.
When you need something even dog shit is nowhere to be found…
Comparing a princess to dog shit was the sort of lèse-majesté that could get a man dragged away, and rightly so.
Still, they said even a king was fair game for a private curse muttered behind his back.
Kyle directed a hearty string of invective at Yulika for having the nerve to be absent precisely when he needed her.
"Is meeting my father making you a little uneasy?"
"Of course it is, Lady Elga."
"Why? Thanks to you, Litorio and John Nassen are…"
"That isn't it, Lady Elga. It's something else entirely."
He had only ever wanted the quiet, peaceful, sweet life of a classic romance academy story—attend classes, train, make friends of the opposite sex.
Romance? To hell with romance. He was living a spectacle academy life instead.
At some point meetings with cabinet ministers had become frequent; now he was being treated like a civil servant.
He had gone to war, smashed the Coalition's Three Heroes, and even gotten on first-name terms with Archduke Schurelitz.
In short, he had waded far too deep into the Empire's political world.
If word spread that a direct heir of John Nassen was entering politics, things would get extremely awkward.
The nobles would react first, and the Imperial Family itself might grow sensitive.
A place of overwhelming force finally setting foot in the political arena?
To them it would feel like an unstoppable tidal wave rolling in.
But those were not the reasons Kyle was truly worried.
What the nobles thought, whether the Emperor fretted—he could not care less.
If they were too weak to handle the wave, that was their problem!
What Kyle genuinely feared was something else.
"We of John Nassen do not dwell where dirty water flows."
There was no mistaking what that dirty water meant.
Once, Kyle had casually asked his father, Baron Dagon John Nassen, whether the family might someday fully merge into the Empire.
The Baron had only laughed softly and answered:
They constantly tempered their bodies, drove themselves to the limit, and grew stronger for it.
That alone was enough. That alone deserved their full focus.
Greater power, greater profit, higher rank—those things only damaged a healthy body and a healthy mind.
If Father ever hears about this… just imagining it makes my spine go cold.
Our youngest is joining hands with nobles and doing strange things? Hohoho.
I hope he isn't skipping training to run off to parties and wine…
The moment those words left the Baron's mouth, Kyle's older brother and sisters would deploy at once.
And what would happen next was so obvious he did not even want to picture it.
"Lady Elga. Um, I'm a little uncomfortable with the idea, so that meeting…"
"Last time you seemed quite positive about it."
"The situation then was not the same as it is now."
He had not yet received a medal, had not suddenly been called a hero, and had never so much as spoken with Archduke Schurelitz.
In those days the political world had still been doing everything it could to shove him back into John Nassen where he belonged.
"If you're worried about other people's eyes, there's no need. This will be entirely unofficial."
"…"
When she put it that way, every ironclad reason to refuse evaporated.
Not an official visit but a private one—secret, even. That might be manageable.
As long as it never reached the gossip mill, every problem disappeared.
And when he thought about it carefully, meeting an archduke was a problem, but refusing the meeting was also a problem.
Outside the Emperor and the direct Imperial bloodline, these were the highest figures in the Empire.
"Kyle, nothing will be done to put you in an awkward position. My father says he wishes to express his personal thanks for the way you upheld Litorio's dignity."
"Hmm…"
"There is also a gift in return. You know the Academy's indoor training hall? When I told Father you always train there, he decided to expand it under the form of a donation—whatever size you want, with whatever equipment you want…"
Kyle seized her hand.
"The truth is, I have long wished to meet His Grace the Archduke of Litorio. Of course I have."
Medals, heroes—none of that news was half as welcome as this.
Lately he had been growing homesick for the training equipment back in his territory.
And now an archducal house was personally stepping in, under the guise of a donation, to expand the gym—the indoor training hall.
Hearing that, Kyle gripped Elga's hand tightly, eyes gleaming.
"Ah… i-is that so? Then I'll relay the message."
"Please do, Lady Elga."
"Um, Kyle? Th-this hand-holding is a little…"
A flush colored Elga's cheeks; her voice shrank to a whisper.
Kyle, however, was concentrating on something far more important than whose hand he was holding.
"How the expansion should be done, how the interior should be laid out, and all the other truly critical details—I'll give you a full briefing later. Litorio truly is the finest archducal house, Lady Elga."
"Eh? Ah. Th-thank you, Kyle."
Now this was a properly run archducal house. Absolutely.
Still clutching Elga's hand, Kyle launched into praise of Litorio.
And so Elga, her hand still held, was able to wear a small, rather happy smile.
Outside the Academy walls stood every kind of facility for students and staff.
This café, only a short walk from the rear gate, was one of them.
It was close to the main streets, and the owner was extremely skilled.
Commoners and noble students alike made a point of visiting.
Yet on a weekend—the very hours when it should have been packed with customers—the café accepted only a handful of guests before hanging up a "Closed" sign.
"…"
The owner's face still wore an unmistakable look of tension that would not fade.
Small wonder. The person who had appeared out of nowhere that morning was a giant among giants.
Aias Mentain de Litorio. Head of one of the Empire's only three archducal houses.
He had dropped into the café with zero warning.
Lately the customers have been getting a little too illustrious…
A princess not long ago. A saintess before that.
He had always dreamed of drawing famous patrons and riding the resulting popularity wave, but he had only ever expected the sons and daughters of respectable houses.
People this terrifying had never once featured in those dreams.
Ding-a-ling—
"Ugh—! W-we're closed today! I'm terribly sorry, but…"
The owner, already wound tight, rushed to bar the newly entered customer.
The Litorio knights who had been waiting inside simply waved that it was fine.
Only then did the owner realize the newcomer was none other than the young lady of that very house.
"I-I beg your pardon, my lady. That is…"
"No. I'm the one who should apologize for causing such a commotion on a weekend."
Elga produced a pouch from her coat and set it on the counter.
"Please accept this as an apology."
"Th-there's no need! The knights already paid more than enough!"
"How much did our house's knights pay?"
"Thirty silver coins of the Empire."
Thirty silver was enough to cover an entire day's revenue.
They had rented the place from morning through lunch or a little past—so the figure was roughly correct.
"Take it."
Elga insisted on paying her own share on top of that.
What she offered was forty silver coins.
When the owner tried to refuse, she forced the money into his hands.
"That earlier sum was for the people who arrived first. Naturally I and the other guest who came with me must pay separately. I am the daughter of an archducal house—I can hardly settle for less than the knights, can I?"
Faced with that logic, the owner finally accepted the money.
"…Aren't you overpaying a little?"
Kyle, who had been quietly watching from behind, finally spoke.
Storming in and commandeering an entire café was definitely an imposition.
But thirty silver more than compensated for any damage.
It was generous enough that the owner would not even feel inconvenienced.
So why deliberately throw another forty silver on top of it?
"I think of it as buying a clean conscience with money. Or perhaps just the foolish money-games of a spoiled young lady."
Whether she disliked answering or was simply embarrassed, Elga gave that reply and started walking deeper into the café.
Kyle watched her go and simply smiled.
Buying a clean conscience with money, was it? Well. Better that than selling your conscience to save a few coins.
It wasn't that the rich were worse; it was that people of means should show class.
With that thought, Kyle quietly followed after Elga.
"…There he is."
At a table deeper inside the café, with a view of the many buildings on the Academy's outskirts, sat the Archduke of the Empire, the master of Litorio—the father of the woman walking ahead of him.