By Zephyria 
It was a reaction I had never once imagined.
If he had pushed me away, saying he didn’t need such a thing or telling me not to give it to him, I would have come up with a few more excuses to force it into his hands and extract a thank you. However, I hadn’t expected him to snatch the notebook as if he were picking up something that had been his from the start, without a single word of gratitude.
At this point, isn’t it more than just a matter of being uneducated or lacking manners?
This was Michael Ernhardt, who supposedly couldn’t even remember people’s names. Yet, our eyes had met several times even from a distance, he clearly remembered my name, and he was aware that I was a Prince. Despite that, I was speechless once again at the arrogance with which he treated me like a subordinate without the slightest hesitation.
“…Ha, no. Well, good luck on your exam.”
“Yes, thank you.”
There were words that should have followed that “thank you.” But Michael closed his mouth firmly, like someone who had forced out a gratitude.
Just how had he been brainwashed to act this way? Perhaps the Valentia family is even more vicious than I thought. I was so flabbergasted that I let out a hollow laugh and walked out.
As I left the library alone, Theodore, who had been waiting at the door, asked with a puzzled look.
“Where is Young Master Ernhardt?”
“…It seems he had a prior engagement today. He said he’d repay me next time.”
I couldn’t bring myself to tell Theodore the truth about today’s events. Theodore accepted this immediately and left, saying he would cancel the restaurant reservation. As I headed back to the dormitory, I kept laughing to make up for the time I had wasted on a pointless endeavor.
“…I’m going crazy.”
I was annoyed, bewildered, and pissed off, but it was funny.
Why on earth is he cute?
* * *
It was the Advanced Swordsmanship class the following week.
Seeing him perk up his head happily the moment he saw me and trot over, I unconsciously grinned. I thought that perhaps my effort in taking the time to organize the notes had paid off, but his first words were quite something.
“Senior Rubel, did you give me the notes because you want something from me?”
“…What?”
“If there’s something I should buy for you as a reward for the notes, then during the next outing…”
“No, no. Wait… what are you talking about, Young Master Ernhardt? That was just—”
“Just?”
Michael Ernhardt opened his pretty eyes wide and stared up at me.
How was I supposed to answer this? I had never felt this lost in front of another person. It wasn’t easy to tell someone who was openly questioning if I had some ulterior motive for being nice to them that I just wanted to have a meal together. If I did, I’d truly become someone who gave the notes with a hidden intention.
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them, crafting the gentlest voice possible so that this innocent, clueless baby wouldn’t get scared.
“I gave them to you because you’ve been working hard.”
“Why?”
“…Well, because you’re my… junior…?”
“Ah. Yes. I will put them to good use.”
It was absurd and frustrating, but equally funny. I let out a hollow laugh. Having lived among people who were intensely focused on my every gesture, glance, and hand movement, I rarely expressed my emotions so openly.
Yet, Michael still didn’t seem to care in the slightest.
“T-they’re summary notes that I rewrote in detail specifically to suit you, so they’ll be worth reading.”
Feeling so wronged, I added another comment just to take some credit. I knew it wasn’t like me, but I couldn’t stand it. However, that tiny creature, upon hearing my boasting, simply gave a brazen nod and said:
“They have already been a great help.”
Then, he gave a bright smile and returned to Benjamin Claudian’s side…
The image of his smile remained as an afterimage before my eyes. The way his naturally soft eyebrows drooped, and his large eyes folded completely into a pretty curve. His mouth opened wide enough to see the red tongue inside his lips, and surprisingly—truly surprisingly—it wasn’t disgusting at all. It was enough to make me want to lean down and look closer…
At this point, I wondered if this brat was playing with me. Does he think everything works just because he smiles once? Arrogant brat. Strangely, I didn’t hate him, but I was the only one getting worked up.
Because he kept falling outside my expected range, I couldn’t think of a way to approach him without seeming suspicious. We exchanged glances frequently during Advanced Swordsmanship class, but after he glared at me with a “Why?” as if I were a nuisance, I stopped looking.
Seriously, what is he?
Michael’s eccentricities didn’t end there.
The first Tuesday of March, it was Advanced Swordsmanship class again.
That story about the sparring was real? A spar between a knight and a wizard was the kind of story found in children’s fairy tales. What reason would Michael, a knight, have to duel Edwin, a wizard?
Furthermore, the Michael I knew was the type of person who wouldn’t fall for useless provocations. I had been steadily gathering rumors about Michael, but I had dismissed it as a trick by Edwin Kiadris to scratch Michael’s pride and drag him to the sparring ground.
However, Michael once again greatly exceeded my expectations.
The boy talked excitedly, chin held high, about how he would invite all these people and provoke Edwin so that he would have no choice but to allow them to observe.
But having watched Michael spar with other knights several times, I already knew his skill level to some extent.
Edwin Kiadris was already a high-level wizard with no equal among his peers. With his current strength, Michael could not beat Edwin. I could clearly see Michael being torn apart and injured by that cruel fellow.
I couldn’t understand why the professors weren’t stopping this baby. I waited until the crazy people who were barking with excitement calmed down, then quietly called Michael over. I gently persuaded him, saying that if he wanted to spar, he should do it with me instead of doing something like that.
But Michael once again far exceeded my expectations.
“I was just curious who is stronger between a wizard and a swordsman, so I just chose an opponent who seemed to be at an appropriate level. I can’t exactly ask a professor for a spar, and fighting a weak wizard would just look like I’m bullying them.”
From where I’m standing, the one being bullied is definitely you.
However, looking at that beaming face, I couldn’t bring myself to continue. I just trailed off, saying, “Right…”
“Still, thank you for worrying about me. I’ll come back without getting hurt, and if possible, with a win.”
The back of my neck felt stiff, and my head was filled with noise. The boy looking up at me gave another beaming eye-smile. Then, sparkling dust seemed to fall from his flushed cheeks.
Is it a hallucination, or did he just cast a spell on me? I unconsciously touched my mental magic defense cuff. But I wasn’t under any spell. I felt dizzy, not knowing if it was Michael or I who was dreaming a foolish dream.
Once again, I gave a two-syllable “Right,” and let the grinning Michael go.
* * *
Michael Ernhardt won the spar against Edwin Kiadris.
I did not attend the after-party.
My insides were churning, and I felt nauseous. The shock of witnessing Michael smiling happily toward Edwin lasted longer than I expected.
Michael smiled often at others, just as he did with me. However, the smile toward Maelo Sanson was just the natural admiration a knight should have, so it didn’t bother me. When he talked to his friends, his gaze often grew cloudy or he seemed to be thinking of something else, so that wasn’t a big deal either.
But seeing him give multiple eye-smiles to Edwin, smiling radiantly, occasionally acting cute by drooping the corners of his eyebrows pleadingly, exchanging looks of mutual reliance, and holding hands while grinning as if they had overcome some great mountain together—it made my stomach boil uncontrollably.
It was the first time I had disliked someone this much since Richard Flo Searon.
I wanted to rip out the throat of Edwin Kiadris, who had captured Michael Ernhardt’s gaze. I wanted to crush that polished face that was blushing inappropriately, and cut off the wrist that dared to hold and grope Michael’s hand.
Even if I wanted to be ignorant of it, I couldn’t. I wasn’t that stupid.
It was jealousy.
…Jealousy?
That’s impossible.
In the Sierran Empire, love was a norm embedded throughout the culture to restore reproductive capabilities. Thanks to that, the Empire acquired its current population, and I knew better than anyone how many gains and losses the high nobility had calculated in that process.
My parents were especially like that. Not only Beneto, but Kate as well, were people who did not suit the concept of love. They calculated gain and loss in every action. I was the same. The only person around me who would be swept away by impulsive and irrational emotions like love was Lucilla.
So why am I—
Throughout my exam studies, Michael’s pretty face popped up dozens, hundreds of times over my textbooks and handouts. I overcame half of them by crumpling the handouts, and for the other half, I stared blankly, tracing Michael’s face with my eyes.
And I thought.
I don’t properly know Michael Ernhardt yet.
There’s no way I love Michael. It’s clearly just that his inner thoughts aren’t transparent like other guys, and because he’s the kind of existence that never existed in my life, I’m curious.
I am a person with a strong desire for knowledge. Therefore, once I know more, the illusion will vanish, and once the illusion is gone, I will be able to clearly recognize that he is just a boy who happens to have a decent exterior.
It wasn’t just a thought for self-justification. His classmates, who had become close to him, described Young Master Ernhardt as a ‘down-to-earth and friendly child compared to his appearance.’ So, it was priority for me to experience for myself that he really is just such a kid. After that, this irrational curiosity would fade away.
That was the reason I approached him, offering to teach him the throwing knife technique.