Lesson 2: From Rock Bottom to a Glimmer of Hope

Three days had already passed since that disastrously failed lesson the day before. It was hard to believe, but something even harder to believe was staring her right in the face.

"Why is it still at 0 percent…?!"

Her life was one where the doll she'd slaved over all night had been snatched away, and she lived in constant terror of her disciple's threats. She'd thought they'd gotten at least a little closer…!!

"What's at 0 percent?"

"Eek!!"

She jumped in fright at the childish voice from behind her, falling flat on her butt.

"D-Disciple?"

Ashu was looking at her with utter pity. Yeah, the same old spoiled brat with zero manners. But that wasn't the point.

"H-How did you get into my room?"

She glanced at her door along with her words. It dangled pathetically from its hinges, the handle shattered, swaying in the breeze.

"Ugh…?"

"I kept calling, but no answer."

"…My door."

She collapsed in despair. Her privacy… The one thing that had separated inside from outside…

'Can't even complain to the Grand Duke…!'

She hadn't seen the Grand Duke once in the three days since that first day. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen Ashu's escort knight either.

'…Isn't this basically neglect?'

He was the heir to a grand ducal family, after all. This level of disinterest?

'Sure, I'm his teacher, but I'm also a war criminal.'

It was clear he didn't care what happened to Ashu. If anything went wrong, she'd be executed on the spot.

"What're you doing, sitting there like that?"

Ashu crossed his arms, looking down at her pathetic sprawl with disdain. Her nerves twitched. She really wanted to flick his forehead.

'Hoo.' Patience. She was the adult here.

"S-So, what brings you to my room…?"

"…When's the lesson?"

Ashu averted his gaze, mumbling like he was embarrassed.

"P-Pardon?"

Her eyes went wide at the unbelievable response. Had she heard right? This brat was asking for…?

"…I said, when's the lesson."

"Heh, h-heh."

"W-What was that weird noise?"

Her whole body tingled with thrill. The dolls she'd made all night hadn't died in vain! Sure, her door was now a rag, but who cared? Ashu Kan Hart himself wanted a lesson!

Gurgle.

She was thanking the heavens when a stomach growl erupted right beside her.

'…Not me.'

The Grand Duke at least had the decency to provide meals, so she wasn't starving. Cold rice, sure, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Warm food (not) and a comfy bed (door just broken) made this one hell of a gig. Better than the army, at least!

And if it wasn't her, there was only one other possibility.

"D-Disciple…"

"Not me."

"Are you… hungry, maybe?"

"I said it's not!"

Gurgle.

The growl from Ashu's stomach contradicted him flat-out. The kid was nobility, so he flushed red with shame.

'…But that's weird.'

The Grand Duke's heir going hungry? Something was off. She'd figure it out later. Right now, priorities.

"Disciple, how about I whip up something tasty for you?"

She pressed a finger to her lips in a shh gesture, then leaned close to his ear, whispering sweetly like a warm breeze.

"Our little secret, away from the Grand Duke."

Pop. Something burst on Ashu's face. Hehe, another favorability stack for the day.

They were in a slightly rundown kitchen now, a spot she'd scouted in the annex over the past few days. For reference, her quarters were in the annex too—a guest wing, so no other servants lived there. It was basically abandoned since guests never came.

The grand ducal estate was huge, after all. The main building was plenty for visitors.

'…And they stuck me here.'

Told her all she needed to know about her status. Still, a bed and fireplace? Hot water worked fine. Not bad.

Squeeze. She tied on a pristine apron. It strained taut over her chest and hips.

…Even she had to admit, this body was lewd as hell.

'Man, this is comfy though.'

She fiddled with her bound hair. The silky strands were oddly addictive. Never realized as a guy, but ponytails were practical—no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strands in her face, no hassle. Pros outweighed cons. A bit emasculating for a macho soul, but better than letting it down.

"W-What the hell is that outfit?!"

Ashu yelled, uncharacteristically startled.

'…He has sides like that?'

She'd pegged him for a psycho beater only. What was so weird? Why was his face beet red?

"W-Why? Is it strange…?"

"No… Hah, whatever."

Ashu sighed like the earth was caving in. The more she saw, the less it matched his first impression.

"Pfft."

"What? Why're you laughing all of a sudden?"

"N-Nothing…"

"—So what wind blew this up? You suddenly offering to cook like crazy."

Ashu eyed her suspiciously.

"Heh, hehe. Disciple, I may not know much, but cooking? That's my jam."

She brimmed with confidence. This wasn't her usual wimpy Ideal.

"From today, call me Michelin Chef, yeah?"

"…Michelin? What's that?"

Ignoring his question, she lit the fire. Heat haze rose from the hot pan. She cracked an egg onto it—sizzling perfectly. Rice washed and steaming on the side. The dingy kitchen came alive in seconds.

Ashu just stared, dumbfounded, as she worked.

"Done."

The simple meal finished fast. Fried egg over meat, hot rice. That was it. Someone might scoff—what kind of cooking is this?—but ingredients were scarce.

'…No supplies in the kitchen.'

These were swiped in secret. Now she really got Ashu's treatment in the estate. Obvious, really.

Ashu stared blankly at the food, then sliced the meat small and chewed tentatively.

"…!"

His eyes quivered. Dignity forgotten, he shoveled it in. Bowl empty in a flash.

'…Hopeless brat, but…'

Maybe not a bad kid deep down? The thought crept in.

'No, snap out of it.'

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Remember day one. Barbarism-beating maniac who charged her blindly.

'…But he's got his childish side.'

Seeing his puffed cheeks, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a fond smile slipped out. And so, after staring too long—

Pat.

"…What're you doing."

"Ah!"

—she'd petted his head without thinking.

"S-Sorry!"

Who knew what fit this brat would throw… Her hands shook at the grim future.

"…Whatever."

Ashu brushed her hand off indifferently.

'…Did he just say it's fine?'

Even savage beasts don't bite when full! Another life lesson learned.

'This has to count for something…'

Any status change? She sneakily checked.

'5 percent…?!'

Unbelievable. It hadn't budged after yesterday's tearful desperation, but now—up 5%!

Tears of joy welled. That brat looked downright lovable.

Overcome, she lunged at Ashu in excitement.

"Discipleee!!!"

"W-What?! Get off!"

He dodged, and she flopped to the floor. Didn't hurt a bit. 5%! All the suffering washed away.

"Heh, hehehe."

"…What? Why're you acting weird?"

Her goofy grin creeped him out; he edged away. Whatever—she rolled on the floor, grinning like an idiot, thrilled at the training degree's first move.

"What the hell's her deal? Why's she suddenly like that?"

Ashu slipped away, trudging through the garden.

"…Stomach's full."

When was the last proper meal? Servants were just spies to him. They never did anything for him. Meals? Never. His diet was always baked potatoes.

"Sky's so clear."

Just three days with that airhead, and boredom was the last thing on his mind. Fun to watch alone. But…

'Feels kinda weird too.'

Warmth after so long? His body felt cozy all over.

Strolling thoughtlessly, he froze like stone.

"…."

"Ashu Kan Hart."

Blue eyes flashed at him, thick with viscous darkness. Meeting them choked the breath from his lungs.

"F-Father."

His father, who usually ignored him, had called his name. Ashu was over the moon. The lesson with Ideal? Partly 'cause she seemed fun, but also hope for father's approval.

Baldamir strode toward him. Heart pounding with each step. Ashu looked up, joy bursting—

Smack—!!!

Massive impact hurled him down. Head spinning, vision blurring. Something was wrong.

"You dare enter this garden?"

"F-Fath…"

Smack—!!

His head ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠snapped sideways.

"…Useless spawn. You should've never been born."

Instead of approval: rejection and regret. Baldamir walked away after that.

'…Knew it might happen, but…'

It still hurt when hope crashed.

"D-Disciple?!"

In his fading vision, Ideal came running from afar.