The Ironclad Poker Face
Rubbing my throbbing temples, I walked down the corridor toward the dining hall. Last night's grand banquet hall at the Astrea Ducal Residence had been nothing short of a disaster zone. Thanks to Reina flipping the gravity field in a fit of rage, wine had gushed back into the air, chandeliers lay shattered, and I’d spent until dawn sweating bullets cleaning up the noble ladies who’d foamed at the mouth and passed out. But the real culprit gnawing at my nerves right now wasn’t that mess.
“Now that I’m an adult……”
The soft, hot touch on my lips. The sweet champagne scent. The alluring curve of those purple eyes smiling. Recalling that split-second violent skinship, a distant memory from my past life flickered unbidden. It was the first week of my student teaching practice, that spring when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom at the school gate. At twenty-four, still clumsy from just being discharged from the military like a returning student, I’d been utterly blindsided by a bold high school girl who dragged me to the end of the hallway, confessed her love out of nowhere, and threw herself into my arms. My soul had been shaken to its core. The image of that green rookie teacher, ears red with shame and embarrassment, fumbling for words—it must have been prime gossip fodder in the staff room and among the kids for ages.
But that was ancient black history from a far-off past. Ten years later, after dealing with countless “problem children” who tried every sly trick to catch me off guard with skinship, I’d finally learned—etched into my bones—how to erect an impregnable iron wall and maintain a perfect poker face. So something like a one-night impulsive kiss from an eighteen-year-old brat shaking my reason and leaving me fidgety? That could never happen against the rock-solid composure I had now.
Right. Just act like nothing happened, and it’s fine. I steeled myself like a self-hypnosis mantra. Donning my usual perfectly dry and impassive “homeroom teacher” face, I flung open the heavy dining hall door.
The Astrea family’s dining hall, where breakfast was laid out. I poured black tea into my cup with my usual perfectly dry and impassive face. But Reina, sitting across the table, was in rough shape. Ignoring her own serving entirely, she propped her chin on her hand and stared holes into me. Or more precisely, my ‘lips’ only.
Tap. Tap-tap.
The deep obsidian-black dragon leather gloves I’d filled as her coming-of-age gift yesterday. Her index finger, wrapped in that smooth leather, kept pressing down repeatedly on her red, moist lips. As if blatantly reminding me of last night’s dizzying sensation, like a beast ruthlessly attacking to turn my face red one way or another.
But even in my past life as a high school teacher, I’d dealt with this kind of cute provocation plenty of times. Girls who sat right in front of the desk staring intently to fluster the young male teacher, or tossing cheeky jokes to gauge reactions. The one truth I’d learned the hard way fending off all those assaults: If I cleared my throat, averted my eyes, or showed even a hint of weakness here, I’d lose control to that cunning beast forever.
I kept my zero-impact perfect poker face and neatly sliced the food meant for her, sliding it forward.
“Stop messing around and eat. Don’t get sauce on the gloves.”
“……”
At my dry scolding, Reina’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. She’d crossed the line with her provocation, but my unchanged iron wall seemed to piss her off pretty good. Seeing that, I couldn’t hold back the laugh I’d been suppressing inside.
“Pfft.”
A deflating sound escaped with a faint chuckle. The continent-shredding, world’s strongest weapon of slaughter was so ridiculously cute, desperately pressing her lips like that just to make my face flush once. That’s why.
My chuckle narrowed Reina’s eyes. Thinking her ambitious attack hadn’t landed but earned a mocking laugh instead, she tapped the table irritably with her gloved fingers.
“……Why’re you laughing.”
“I’m not. Food’s getting cold. Eat.”
“Liar. You just mocked me. Hmph!”
As I held back my smile staring her down, Reina pouted and huffed like she was dying of frustration. Just as I was about to lift my teacup, watching that aggrieved face—
BAM—!
“The empire’s greatest sword, Lady Reina de Astrea! I bring His Majesty the Emperor’s solemn edict!”
A uniform decked out in flashy gold trim. A voice dripping with arrogance. An imperial high herald.
I set down my knife and fork, quietly stood from my chair, and moved behind Reina. Like her shadow. His sharp gaze stabbed at me.
“Well now. This is a sacred moment receiving His Majesty’s edict. It’s no place for a mere baron’s lackey to eavesdrop—get lost!”
The herald sneered, chin jutting in undisguised disgust.
“Lady, dismiss those around you and receive His Majesty’s command with proper decorum.”
A gold-embossed scroll containing the northern beast subjugation order was haughtily extended in midair. The ravings of a frog in a well, clueless about whose helm steered Astrea’s blade or this twisted, obsessive liege-vassal bond.
I swallowed a sigh and checked Reina’s reaction. But.
“……”
The edict’s recipient herself didn’t even turn her head, no matter how much the herald yelled. She twisted in her chair, staring up obsessively only at me standing behind her. Those cool purple eyes were still blatantly fixed on my ‘lips’.
His Majesty’s solemn authority? Whatever. To her, my reaction was the most urgent, vital thing in the world. That indifferent, blind gaze—if I just pointed and said “Bite,” she’d tear that noisy herald in half right there, no doubt.
Exhausted from cleaning up last night’s mess, plus Reina’s soul-draining mental assault since morning—my patience was already scraping bottom. Add this arrogant herald yapping in my ear without a clue, and the impulse to yank off the hunting dog’s leash boiled up my throat.
But I had to hold it in. If Reina ripped the herald apart here, the bloody cleanup, paperwork, and imperial backlash would all fall on me. Cleaning up a student’s messes is always the homeroom teacher’s fate.
I tamped down the boiling annoyance and impulse. Meanwhile, the herald—treated like transparent air—flushed red with humiliation.
“L-Lady! Are you defying His Majesty’s command?! Kneel at once and…!”
Unable to take it, he raised his voice and reached for his sword hilt. That’s when.
Haa.
I swallowed a long, weary sigh inside. The Evans barony handled all external affairs and political maneuvering for the muscle-brained Astrea Ducal House. No matter how punchable this stiff herald was, picking a fight with the emperor’s proxy would burden the ducal house unnecessarily.
Hold it. I’ve smiled through hundreds of malicious parent complaints barging into the staff room yelling from the start.
I tamped down the surging waves of murderous intent, plastered on a perfectly polite “business smile,” and stepped forward past Reina, smoothly blocking the herald.
I took the proffered edict scroll with a very polite but firm hand.
“Wh-what do you think you’re doing! How dare you!”
“Don’t misunderstand, Herald. How could our lady defy His Majesty’s solemn command?”
To the wide-eyed, shocked herald, I continued in a soft, kind voice.
“But as you see, our lady is quite shy with strangers in the morning and low on energy. This humble baron’s servant will meticulously review His Majesty’s precious edict and ensure she receives it without strain by coaxing… no, assisting her properly. So please, calm your anger.”
My perfect crisis management to defuse things smoothly without friction. But unfortunately, the herald—furious over the out-of-spec monster behind me—saw my kind business smile as nothing but mockery of the imperial house.
“Y-You mad…! A mere baron’s runt like you dares insult the throne?!”
As he paled and raised his voice in a frenzy—
Swish.
A presence approached from behind me, and the end of my left shirt sleeve tugged taut. Looking down, Reina’s two hands in obsidian-black leather gloves clutched my sleeve tightly. The obsessive beast who’d been provoking me moments ago now hid meekly behind my broad back with the most obedient, devoted face imaginable.
“……Hm.”
A pleased hum leaked from behind. Me stepping up to corner the herald and snatch the edict? It gave her a thrilling sense of belonging—like “my master’s protecting me.” She was thoroughly enjoying this contrived damsel-in-distress play, using me as her shield.
The grotesque sight of an overwhelming monster who could crush the empire hiding behind a mere servant, clutching his hem. To the herald’s eyes, it looked like the monster was cowering behind weak me for protection—but reality was the opposite.
I wasn’t maintaining this polite smile to shield Reina from imperial authority. Her secret, ambitious “hunt”—using last night’s kiss to draw my attention—had been perfectly ruined by this noisy intruder. By hiding and soothing the beast who looked ready to snap the intruder’s neck for ruining her fun, I was essentially forcibly extending the ignorant, pathetic herald’s life.
This chilling control—leashing rampaging power behind my back. The true puppeteer holding the room’s life-and-death strings? That clueless herald wouldn’t figure it out in a thousand lifetimes.