Loks placed his hand thoughtfully against his chin. “So the crown prince will be gracing us with his presence as well. Now then, does that mean Prince Lumers will be kind enough to join us as well?”
“Yeah, they’re off fetching their fiancées.”
That explains the eight seats. So this means two princes, huh? We’re getting very royal in here.
Shortly after, the crown and second prince both arrived with their respective fiancées, and it was time to eat. Another scrumptious meal. We mostly made small talk while we ate, but once it was time for dessert, the crown prince said something unexpected to me.
“I hear a son of House Nogdeid has been giving you trouble.”
“Hm?”
That could be the dimwit older brother or the upstanding younger brother, but if he said “giving you trouble” then it had to be the former.
How come his highness knows about that? Oh, maybe Shenavaroa told him.
Glancing at her, I saw a subtle, vexed smile on her face.
“Just so you know, I didn’t hear about it from Roa,” he said. “Actually, it’d be more accurate to say I also heard about it from Roa.”
Hm? Not just her? Then who?
Ah.
“I heard about it from Lord Aspozat. It seems the marquess filed a formal protest against House Nogdeid.”
“I requested that my father file it,” Loks answered. “You’ll forgive me if I found his behavior unbearable. I assume the way he acts is a result of poor discipline at House Nogdeid.”
“Is that it? Typically, a student’s poor etiquette stays within the academy. Though I suppose in this case, it’s in Reswell’s best interests.”
Your Highness, I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t glance at me when you said that.
“Your Highness, please, that’s enough of this foolishness. Can’t you tell Lowell is having a hard time?”
Oh, Shenavaroa isn’t too happy with her fiancé.
“Is she now?”
Okay, that doesn’t mean you should turn the conversation— Wait. This concerns me. Of course they’re turning the conversation to me.
“It’s a nuisance,” I stated.
I don’t know why, but that caused all the men to pause.
“She’s a very frank one,” the second prince said mirthfully.
“Don’t forget that she was raised in Peylon,” Loks replied in a similar tone.
Is it just me, or is there more to those smiles? Like, “She was raised among meatheads, so of course she’s unladylike.” That sort of thing. Well, I know how I am, so I guess I shouldn’t let it bother me.
“Either way,” the crown prince continued, “this must be a terrible humiliation for Viscount Nogdeid, forcing him to reeducate his older son. Terrible enough that the viscount’s grandfather won’t interfere.”
His tone shifted during that last sentence. The dimwit brother’s grandfather—no, it was his great-grandfather, wasn’t it? The man in question ran the noble faction. I got the feeling these two members of the royal family weren’t too fond of the old man. Granted, considering the attitude of his great-grandson, that was kind of obvious.
“I suppose we should allow Lord Aspozat to take care of the Nogdeid matter,” the crown prince finished.
That does sound like the best option, but will that stop him from pestering me at the academy?
“Your Highness,” Loks said, picking up on my concerns, “if he does accost Lera again, would you allow her the option of using force?”
“I’ll allow it. Do what you like.”
Huh? You sure about this?
“Your Highness, are you certain of this?” Ville said. It seemed I wasn’t the only one surprised. “A counterattack from Lera could leave him with serious injuries.”
I won’t say you’re wrong, but isn’t there a better way you could’ve phrased that?
“If he comes to harm, it’ll be his own fault.”
The crown prince didn’t waver in his response. The second prince, meanwhile, looked a bit uncomfortable.
“If that happens, brother, won’t the great-grandfather get involved?”
“If his great-grandson gets beat by a younger girl, I’m sure even that old bastard Bilbroza will stay out.”
Your Highness, language. Shenavaroa’s mood is not getting any better.
The second prince, on the other hand, was smiling at him. These brothers really had a bone to pick with Lord Bilbroza.
After getting a quiet scolding from his fiancée, the crown prince cleared his throat. “Well, my point is, I think it’s fine if you resort to force if someone from that house gives you trouble.”
“Brother, should she assume that goes for all houses?” the second prince asked, throwing a wrench in the conversation.
“Hm? Are there other houses making life difficult for her?”
“Indeed, such as in general magic.” He turned and winked at me. “Right?”
Your Highness, how do you know about—oh.
I remembered that their younger brother, the third prince, was in that class. He must’ve been his brother’s source. So had only the second prince heard of it?
“General magic? Did someone interfere with lessons?”
“Yes, but maybe rejected them would be more accurate?”
The crown prince was only growing more confused. “Tell me more.”
“Well, I’m told that in general magic, the students with better grades help instruct the students with poorer grades.”
“Right; at the academy’s encouragement, that happens all the time in other electives.”
“Her marks in general magic are quite good. Better than Shenille’s.”
“Oh, I see. I take it those underachievers are from the noble faction? But aren’t they only hurting themselves?”
“Truly. They’ve been unable to keep up with lessons, and have requested to transfer to different classes.”
“A bunch of fools. Did they just pick a class without considering their skills?”
“They’re all still fourteen—not even adults. Is it really odd that they don’t yet know what they’re good at?”
“Even so.”
What followed was a very long and heated debate between the two princes regarding how best to pick electives. Thanks to them, dessert was further delayed. I was starting to worry that I’d end up having to leave for my afternoon classes without any sweets.
But at long last, my dessert was placed before me! It came in the form of a fruit tart; the ingredients probably came from a region that could export fruit even during the winter. Some domains in the kingdom used magic to produce warm weather crops throughout the year, and fruits accounted for a large portion of those products.
The technology, by the way, was provided by the institute. In other words, it was my idea. What they used wasn’t a greenhouse, but a house made from the insulating sap of a certain monstrous tree. The fruits weren’t as large when grown out of season, but their flavor was all the stronger for it.
They’re sooo goood.
The recipe came from Peylon. While the crust was already common enough, I heard Peylon was the first to develop custard cream. Naturally the recipe for that—and pudding—came from me. Though I couldn’t remember exact recipes, I knew the ingredients, so Castle Varchudar’s head pastry—I mean, the patissier was able to replicate them.
Speaking of which, she was going to open a shop, wasn’t she? Oh, now’s not the time for that. I should be focusing on the fruit tart in front of me.
We didn’t say much over our desserts, but once those were finished and the coffee was brought out, the crown prince hit us with a curveball.