Surviving the Academy (1)
"....Mmph!!!! Mmmph!!!!!"
In the underground prison of the Saint Ducal House, deep in the enveloping darkness, a man's stifled scream echoed faintly.
"....Hng."
Ariel gazed at him with utterly emotionless eyes, removing the assassin's gag as if mildly amused. An iron rod, glowing red-hot from the fire, slipped from the duke's daughter's hand.
"Speak."
He trembled violently from head to toe, glaring daggers at the duchess before him.
".....The Raymond Ducal House? Fine. As routine as a morning greeting. But...."
Ariel curled her lips into a sinister smile, slowly drawing a dagger.
"Aaaack!!! Uwaaaack!!!!"
"Harming my person warrants your death."
Ariel's expression remained unchanged, as if she'd merely handled an obvious chore. She left the fainted assassin behind and shut the underground prison door as she departed.
Waiting at the entrance stood the red-haired knight, Rachel.
"No need for you to handle it personally."
Ariel nodded. "I need to witness their suffering up close to feel any satisfaction."
"...This morning: a simple tea party and a meeting with His Highness the Crown Prince. This afternoon: a brief visit to the Imperial Academy to see the headmaster."
Imperial Academy. At that word, a faint gleam sparked in the duchess's eyes.
".....Any word on what I mentioned before...?"
"....."
Rachel regarded Ariel quietly. Did the lady realize just how tensely her face was set? Strangely enough, Lady Ariel von Saint poured every ounce of her attention into that man.
A hidden lover, perhaps.
She assigned people to tail him daily for updates, and now she was even strong-arming a recommendation letter for the academy...
"A reply has arrived."
".....Ah."
Her body lifted ever so slightly off the ground. Surely she hadn't just bounced on her toes... right?
"....Hmph, ahem."
No, of course not. It didn't suit her image at all.
"....What did they say?"
Ariel urged her impatiently. Rachel had never imagined the lady she'd observed for years could display such a rainbow of expressions.
"He submitted his enrollment application. A recommendation waives tuition and exempts him from the exam, but he insists on taking it anyway..."
"....Hng."
Ariel sank into quiet thought. Even when chances were handed to him, he always insisted on his own path to feel fulfilled—that was his nature.
The duchess unwittingly let a smile slip across her face.
"....I've never seen you smile before, milady."
"......"
It suited her surprisingly well. Rachel had worked at the ducal house since childhood, witnessing nothing but icy detachment for years—yet the mere mention of this boy named Leon brought out the cutest expressions...
Even the lady who'd known no joy in life now had spring in her step. As a retainer, how could she not get involved?
"If it's a romance venture, I could help—as your senior in life."
"....Is that why, at twenty-six, you got blackout drunk and wailed about having no lover?"
".....Ugh."
No comeback for that. The lady could unleash barbs far sharper than her age suggested.
Pouting, Rachel turned away to shuffle through documents when she felt a light tap on her arm.
".....The academy."
"Pardon?"
"....We'll meet there soon. I want to know."
Ariel's cheeks flushed red. The haughty Lady Ariel, swallowing her pride to this extent... she liked him that much?
Teasingly, Rachel prodded: "...Know what~?"
"....The m-man..."
.....Hng.
"Is he handsome, by any chance?"
"....Stop sneering. Tell me. I'm serious."
"Very well."
Rachel adjusted her glasses and fired off the line she'd been dying to deliver.
"First things first—let's fix that stiff way of speaking."
—
The academy entrance exam was a breeze. He'd braced for a duel, but they just had him grip a sword, swing it a few times, then chuckled heartily and waved him through as a special admit.
"Packed spare clothes? Towels?"
"Yes."
"Uniform?"
"Got it."
"....Hmm, and... anything else...."
On move-in day at the academy, Catherine fretted endlessly, double-checking the items in Leon's subspatial scroll.
"....Leon oppa.... You're really going?"
"Yeah. It's just a year till we meet again—what's the big deal?"
Thanks to the unexpected full scholarship, they'd earmarked the money from Crown Prince Cedric for Lena's enrollment next year. His parents had protested at first, but calling it a gift for his sister wore them down eventually.
Catherine peeled the sulky Lena off her and waved slowly. Silver hair and purple eyes like her own, but her face took after her father, Himmel.
...That was probably why she wasn't too worried. Leon was tougher and more capable than anyone.
Still, sending off her son—whom she'd barely see for three years—she pulled him into a warm embrace.
"....If anything tough comes up, contact us anytime. Your father will come running."
"....Got it. Don't worry."
Catherine smiled at his words, gazing quietly at the academy building. A massive castle-like structure. Rumor had it that inside lay not just parks and dorms, but training grounds, lounges, even a convenience store—a miniature city unto itself.
Stroking Lena's hair gently as she watched her son's retreating back.
Then—
Hiiing—!!
A carriage that screamed luxury at first glance. The red rose emblem... that meant the Saint Ducal House.
More carriages began emerging over the hill, one by one.
.....He'll be fine, right? Surrounded by all those kids... won't he get bullied...
Catherine's worries bubbled up anew for no reason.
Honestly, it still didn't feel real. Me, at the empire's top academy. Never dreamed a commoner like me would get this lavish noble education.
The recommendation letter was suspicious, sure—but good things were good things. Headmaster Raymond Schwartz said a high-up who could pull strings at the academy had taken a shine to me.
He'd considered Crown Prince Cedric, but doubted even he'd care that much. Probably just one of the prince's underlings, he figured.
"....Hmm."
Leon methodically toured the dorm. Four beds meant three more roommates incoming. Each had a desk for personal study.
No one else in the dorm yet, so he decided to scout outside first.
Descending wooden stairs from the second-to-fourth-floor male dorms down to the first-floor common area. Snacks and exercise gear stocked the mini-mart.
....Points?
Not just snacks—every item in the mart listed points instead of imperial francs.
....Not hungry anyway, so Leon exited the male dorm to explore more.
Training grounds locked, so he skipped them. Strolling the park, he noted how lavish the facilities were, backed by imperial funds.
Nothing much to do, so he sat on a bench, sipping homemade orange juice from his scroll.
"Excuse me."
"Oh, hi...?"
"Do you know where the dorm supervisor is? I need to check in..."
Short golden hair, strikingly red eyes—a girl student.
"Dorm supervisor? Second floor of each dorm, probably."
"....Oh? Really?"
Really? It's right there in the admissions guide...
She tilted her head sheepishly, then offered a handshake.
"Thanks. Your name...?"
"Swordsmanship department, Leon Chris."
"Elise Raymond, magic department."
She beamed, extending her hand again.
"We'll meet again."
"....Pardon?"
"Looking forward to it, Leon."
"......"
Caught off-guard by the sudden warmth, Leon shook her hand blankly. Elise vanished after the greeting.
He stared dazedly at the lingering sensation and rosemary scent on his hand, then bolted back to the dorm, realizing roll call might start soon.
—
The academy dorms were four-person rooms, but for her—Elise Raymond—an exception had been made. Sole daughter of the Raymond Ducal House, the academy's greatest patron, and Ariel von Saint's bitter rival.
The grudge between the two ducal houses ran deep.
One revered the sword; the other, magic. Debates over which reigned supreme had escalated into outright war.
The Saint Ducal House's Red Rose Knights against the Raymonds' symbol, the blue hyacinth.
This war, raging for nearly twenty years, ended in Saint victory. The Raymonds suffered humiliation, and a decade after the war's close, they honed their blades for revenge.
Elise shared that thirst. Her uncles and brothers had perished in the Rose War, fueling her hatred for the Saint Ducal House—and Ariel von Saint.
Leon Chris.
Ariel's every move revolved inexplicably around this man. Sending assassins to claim his life was tempting, but to inflict deeper wounds...
To twist Ariel's face in agony... it was worth the investment of time.
"....This should be fun, Ariel. When I steal your man. And he dies before your eyes...."
Elise leaned back in the bathtub, nude, a sly smile playing on her lips.
What face will you make then, Ariel?