The Art of Survival: From Steak to SOS
We pushed open the restaurant door for lunch, leaving the messenger from the Astrea Ducal Residence behind. The clatter of dozens of utensils fell silent all at once, a heavy quiet descending over the room. It was the aftermath of the 'gossip flyer' that had swept the academy all morning and the 'duke's knights' intrusion'.
The students parted like the Red Sea, and I used their awestruck stares as a screen to claim a quiet table in the corner. Soon, a thick, appetizingly grilled steak and warm soup were set before me. But I couldn't even think of picking up my fork. My unfocused, dazed eyes stared blankly into space. With my neck on the chopping block any day now, there was no way I could force down a scrap of meat.
My brain was running at 100% capacity, frantically polishing the sentences for the 'Emergency SOS Letter' I needed to fire off to my father at once.
'...Father, save me. What sin did I commit in my past life to end up risking my neck among these bloodthirsty kids? Duke Astrea is about to take my head, swallowing that third-rate gossip hook, line, and sinker.'
As I scowled deeply, frozen while selecting my words, Reina stared at me intently from across the table.
"Cadel, why aren't you eating? Is it not tasty?"
I couldn't even answer her short question. My brain was too busy drafting the letter's body.
'I swear I didn't cross any lines. I was briefly distracted watching the emperor's faction spies around us, and in that moment, this bloodth... no, Reina threw a little tantrum. I've controlled her thoroughly and put her to bed safely, so the rumors are a complete misunderstanding.'
Just then, as I vented my grievances inwardly without so much as blinking—Reina picked up her fork and knife, then began meticulously slicing the steak on my plate into bite-sized pieces.
"Ah, try this."
She speared a piece with her fork and thrust it toward my mouth. Normally, I'd have freaked out and snatched the fork away, but right now, my brain's processing power was fully allocated to letter-writing. I just opened my mouth soullessly. Reina popped the meat in, and I began mechanically chewing, my gaze still fixed on empty air.
'...Above all, Your Excellency sending knights to drag Reina back without thinking things through is handing the emperor's faction prowling the academy the perfect ammunition. I've sent them packing as a stopgap—please, Father, rein in that runaway locomotive of a father-in-l... no, His Excellency the Duke.'
"Tasty? Eat some veggies too."
This time, Reina sliced some perfectly cooked asparagus and popped it into my mouth. I nodded faintly as I worked my jaw. A bright, satisfied smile spread across her face.
But while I was desperately finalizing this 'survival report' in my head and unconsciously masticating away, the students watching this bizarre lunch scene had already crossed the tipping point.
"Oh my god... what am I seeing right now?"
"Who's the servant and who's the master here?"
"Her Highness the Lady is attending to that low-rank baron's heir like a servant!"
A stifled whisper broke the silence. Every time I unconsciously chewed and swallowed, the students' shock ballooned exponentially.
"She crushed the duke's knights with sheer presence in the classroom just now, and now she's casually eating meat fed to her by Her Highness...!"
"Her Highness tending to him so dutifully like that!"
The murmurs around us finally snapped me back to reality, but the misunderstanding had already snowballed out of control.
'Damn it, why is she doing something she never does normally...'
"Cadel, you have sauce on your mouth."
As I panicked, my pupils shaking over how to escape this delusional swamp, Reina gently dabbed my mouth with a white napkin, ever so tenderly.
"...Gasp!"
"Kyaa...! That untamable beast of the empire, acting so meek...!"
A choked scream finally erupted from the girls' side. I couldn't even swat away Reina's hand as she wiped my mouth; I just stared vacantly at the ceiling.
'Fine. No energy left to even make excuses. Just finish eating and hurry back to write that letter.'
The 10-year mental fortitude of an ex-K-teacher, having abandoned all adult coping strategies, gaped wide and chomped down on the next steak chunk Reina offered, surrendering to the flow of this absurd misunderstanding.
The afternoon classes ended, and I bolted back to the dorm like a fugitive. I yanked out the chair at my desk and slumped down. My fingers trembled faintly as I pulled parchment from the deep drawer and uncorked the ink bottle. But I gripped the pen hard in my right hand, closed my eyes, and took three deep breaths. When I opened them again, the shaking was gone.
Scratch, scratch.
In the quiet room, only the sharp quill gliding across the parchment echoed.
To my esteemed Father,
I report through this letter that the malicious rumors currently circulating in the academy regarding myself and Her Highness Lady Reina de Astrea are utter fabrications.
The truth of the incident is as follows. While I was momentarily vigilant against the movements of the planted spies within the academy, Her Highness—sensitive to environmental changes—experienced a brief emotional fluctuation. There was a minor lapse, but it was swiftly rectified.
The issue lies in His Excellency Duke Astrea's concerns upon encountering this third-rate gossip. This morning, he dispatched knights to the academy to summon Her Highness back to the estate.
This is an exceedingly dangerous decision. Her Highness's enrollment in the academy was at His Majesty's direct urging. Withdrawing her to the territory immediately after enrollment, based solely on baseless rumors, would provide the emperor's faction—ever watchful of House Astrea—with the perfect pretext, exposing a 'chink in Astrea's armor.'
For the honor of House Astrea, I cited academic duties and peer relations to politely send the dispatched knights away. However, my power is insufficient to fully dispel His Excellency's concerns.
I earnestly beseech Father to intervene, meet directly with His Excellency the Duke, and convey the truth of this matter without misunderstanding. With the emperor's faction's eyes focused here, only Father can restrain His Excellency's hasty judgment.
Your eldest son of House Evans, Cadel.
I set the quill down with a clack. Not a single line betrayed personal emotion or fear; atop the parchment lay a calm, flawless 'official document' debating imperial politics and familial security.
I sealed the envelope with blue wax, pressing the family crest firmly.
"Haa..."
Leaning deep into the chair back, I exhaled a long, heavy breath. Wiping the cold sweat beading on my forehead with my sleeve, tension released in a hollow chuckle.
'I've done all I can. The dice are cast; now my life hangs on Dad's silver tongue.'
I glanced out the window. The noon sun blazed over the academy grounds. Peaceful scenery, but to me, even that sunlight felt like the cold blade of a guillotine aimed at my neck.
All I could do was pray the courier bearing this letter reached home before my head rolled.
BOOM—!!
In the grand study of the Astrea Ducal Residence, a massive desk shattered with a roar, tumbling to the floor.
"That trash dared defy my command and didn't come—?!"
The lion's roar of the empire's strongest warrior and northern overlord, Duke Astrea, rattled the study windows. His ferocious killing intent seemed ready to slaughter everything in sight.
"Y-Your Excellency! Please calm yourself!"
The adjutant, returned empty-handed and kneeling, trembled like an aspen, forehead to the floor.
"Young Master Evans did not take Your Excellency's command lightly! Rather, he seemed concerned about the emperor's faction keeping watch on Her Highness."
Desperately packaging Cadel's 'mature excuse' for the bloodthirsty duke. But no lofty political calculus could pierce the ears of a father lost to daughterly panic.
"Political pretext?! Who cares about the emperor's faction!! My precious Reina shed tears! That innocent little thing, in the bed of a wolf like him... ARRGH!! I'll slice that bastard's throat right now!!"
As the duke's eyes bulged and he stormed toward the door—
Creeeak—
The heavy study door opened peacefully. Crossing the threshold was a middle-aged man in plain, unassuming clothes: Cadel's father, the low-rank imperial noble, Baron Evans.
He glanced at the wrecked desk and fuming duke, then tsked his tongue, nodding at the prostrate adjutant.
"Too noisy; couldn't even nap. Good work, knight. Out."
"...!"
In the midst of an enraged imperial duke's rampage, a mere baron ordering the duke's guard knight out—an absurd scene. But the adjutant bowed frantically, like meeting a savior, and fled without looking back.
Click.
The door shut, leaving only the duke and Baron Evans in the vast study.
The overwhelming pressure of Duke Astrea, who made the entire empire quake—the thick killing intent earned from beheading thousands on the battlefield—crushed the baron. But Baron Evans's expression didn't change. He met the duke's murderous glare calmly. That very calm only fueled the duke's rage further.
He ground his teeth, eyes wild.
"Brother. What did your son do to my daughter... to innocent Reina, to make her cry?!"
The duke's aura screamed he was seconds from killing the baron and racing to the academy for Cadel. But Baron Evans doused the room's heat with a firm scolding.
"You damn doting fool."
"...!"
"A mountain of a man, embarrassing yourself in front of your men?"
At the baron's pitying fact-bomb and casual shin-kick(?), the duke's ferocious aura vanished like a miracle. The savage beast that terrorized the empire was gone; he grabbed the baron's sleeve with a teary, pitiful face and whined.
"Brother—!! Brother!! Your nephew dared seduce my daughter!! Innocent Reina...!"
As the duke stomped, eyes reddening with injustice, Baron Evans scratched his ear with his pinky, replying indifferently.
"Act your age, you idiot."
"I trusted that Cadel kid so much! Treated him like my own nephew since he was little—how could he do this to me! Don't stop me, Brother! I'll—"
"Is your head just for show?"
"......"
"You really think that third-rate tabloid trash from who-knows-where holds water? Can't trust my son Cadel?"
"...N-No, but!"
"If the rumors were true, I'd have raced to the academy and lopped off Cadel's head before you could even draw your greatsword."
At the baron's chilling yet confident declaration, the rampaging duke's shoulders twitched and slumped.
Baron Evans plopped naturally onto the sofa, crossing his legs.
"Fact-check first. Cadel's not the type to touch a hair on Reina's head. Plus, as he said, if you charge in without thinking and yank the kids out of the academy, the emperor will dance for joy."
"But my daughter...!"
"No 'buts' about it!"
The baron slammed the table; the duke noticeably shrank.
"Who was it who begged me, clinging to my leg, to assign Cadel to civilize your uncontrollable brat of a daughter?!"
"...Brother."
In the end, the empire's strongest duke hung his head glumly, tail between his legs, and huddled on the opposite sofa. Thus, Cadel's neck was safely secured.