episode_0008

White hair mixed with streaks of black, crimson eyes that blurred the line between red and yellow, and thick furred ears.

Among the beastkin clans residing in the north, she was the jewel of the most powerful family—the esteemed young lady of the Wyken Grand Duchy.

Though she was someone who rightfully deserved to be addressed as “Your Grace,” in private, she detested all such formalities—a free-spirited soul through and through.

I first met her around the time I enrolled at the academy. When she announced her engagement to our Frontier Count, I couldn’t help but think something incredibly rude:

‘She’ll definitely call off the engagement within a year.’

It was a truly disrespectful thought, but if I had to defend myself, it was only natural.

How could our Frontier Count—a kind, soft-spoken, yet deeply responsible and upstanding noble—possibly be a match for that thuggish young lady?

She was even two years older than him, and with that temperament, it felt like he’d spend his whole life crushed under her thumb.

But no matter how much he suffered whenever I saw them together, he never once called off the engagement.

Why? If you asked whether I’d ever considered that maybe our Frontier Count had those tastes—well, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t.

Though, given the political nature of a marriage between those two families, if he was just enduring it despite disliking her… I wouldn’t have much to say.

‘But then again, he does seem oddly eager to impress her…’

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Weren’t you supposed to go into history? Why are you here?”

“The professor lured me in.”

“Oh, please.”

If I told you that all of this was a butterfly effect caused by our Frontier Count’s desire to impress you, you wouldn’t believe me, would you?

I know. That’s why I won’t say it. Not that the part about being lured in is a lie, anyway.

“Well, I’ve got a favor to ask. Mind running an errand for me, Baron?”

“Only when it suits you, huh?”

Of course, I’d complain, but I knew full well I couldn’t refuse her.

At the very least, as long as our Frontier Count didn’t break off the engagement, it wouldn’t do me any good to get on the bad side of the future lady of the house—our most reliable backer.

Not that I minded trading a few barbs. She liked that sort of thing, after all. Might as well play along.

If it came to a fight, I’d be the one dying. She had the strength for it, and provoking her was all too easy.

The most defining trait of beastkin was their savagery—in my past life’s history, they’d be akin to Nordic Vikings.

“So, what is it?”

“Nothing much. Just take this.”

With that, she shoved a small wooden box wrapped in cloth into my hands.

“What’s this?”

“None of your business. Just quietly hand it to Albert. And don’t say it’s from me.”

“But I need to know what it is to act natural!”

“Hmm. Fair point.”

After a brief pause, she jerked her head to the side and huffed.

“A quill.”

“A quill?”

“His was worn out earlier—couldn’t write properly. Didn’t you notice?”

“He’s probably still got some left…”

“And if he does, great! Now quit yapping and take it.”

In the end, she forced it on me. Though, looking at it this way, she does have her moments of hidden kindness…

I tucked it away, but she was still staring daggers at me. Seemed she had more to say.

“So, I saw you earlier—whispering with the Imperial Princess in the back. What were you two going on about?”

“For the record, I’m an innocent victim here. Just humoring some small talk, that’s all.”

“Oh-ho? And you sure you’re not about to get reeled in, drop everything, and switch sides, Baron? Hmm?”

Flames flickered in her eyes. Caught off guard, I frantically waved my hands in denial.

“W-What kind of joke is that?! Of course not! Do you have any idea how much I owe the Frontier Count?! Do I really seem that ungrateful?!”

“But it’s suspicious! That princess barely talks to anyone, yet suddenly she’s all chatty next to you? Whispering during lectures?!”

“……Excuse me?”

“‘Excuse me’ my ass—ugh.”

Despite her words, she didn’t raise a hand. Probably because she knew one hit could actually kill me.

Seizing the brief lull, I voiced my confusion.

“Wait, hold on—she’s not a chatterbox? From what I’ve seen, she could probably talk nonstop for 20 hours if left unchecked.”

“Does that princess have a twin? I mean, sure, she’s been tailing Albert ever since he beat her once, but…”

So you knew… At least now I’m sure the princess I know and the one she knows have entirely different personalities.

“But why didn’t you stop her?”

“If he can’t handle that much, what kind of husband would he make?”

Our Lady Erna crossed her arms as she answered.

The saying about lions pushing their cubs off cliffs might be a myth, but it seems beastkin women do toss their future husbands off cliffs to test them.

Once again, I silently offered my condolences for the Frontier Count’s future.

“Anyway, if it’s nothing, fine. Just thought I’d mention it. And if I hear you blabbing about this to anyone—you’re dead.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Later.”

And just like that, our future Frontier Countess vanished as abruptly as she appeared—a whirlwind of an encounter.

‘Can’t tell if she hates it or loves it.’

Her attitude was impossible to read. Which was part of why she scared me. With mixed feelings, I carefully tucked the well-wrapped box away.

—

Later that afternoon.

Before our Frontier Count, who had returned in high spirits after working up a sweat, I presented the prepared gift.

“What’s this?”

“Well, your quill seemed to be giving you trouble earlier. Thought you could use a new one.”

Following the script (?) I’d agreed on with Lady Erna, I played the part of the attentive vassal, even noticing his small struggles. His expression turned puzzled.

“A quill?”

I recited my prepared lines with the straightest face I could muster.

“A belated congratulatory gift for my lord’s enrollment. I’d be honored if you accepted it.”

The quill I presented wasn’t the usual plain white one but an elegant piece—black with silver embellishments.

It looked more like a decorative item than something you’d actually use. I hadn’t expected it to be this fancy and was caught off guard myself.

Our Frontier Count examined it carefully, running his fingers over it before nodding in satisfaction.

“Must’ve cost a fair bit to get something like this. Fits perfectly in my hand. Thank you—I’ll put it to good use.”

“Haha…”

Though my lord had fallen for the act, my conscience still pricked me. Next time, I’ll prepare something myself.

“So, how are you feeling? First lecture and all.”

“It’s just the first one, so it hasn’t fully sunk in yet… A lot of it was material I’d already seen in books.”

“Well, you were clearly slacking off.”

So he had noticed. I rubbed my face sheepishly. The Frontier Count chuckled, clasping his hands together.

“Still, you seem to be adjusting well enough. Not that you’ll have much time to slack. Professor Wisbaden’s lenient by comparison…”

“Lenient? He assigned three separate research tasks just today!”

And if I didn’t have proper answers by the next lecture, his tongue-lashing would be brutal.

But the Frontier Count shook his head.

“Wait till ‘Mock Battle Practice’ tomorrow. That’s the real deal. The professor there is far stricter.”

“Uh… That’d be Professor Montecuccoli, right?”

Claudio Montecuccoli. Like the now-familiar Gerhard von Wisbaden, I knew him to be a former military officer turned professor.

Though unlike Wisbaden, he wasn’t known as a legendary commander. He’d retired much earlier, dedicating himself to training the next generation.

‘Funny how their images are almost opposites…’

The one with more military experience was gentler, while the one who left earlier was harsher.

“How are the other lectures?”

“Hmm, Military Magic is mostly theory, so it’s not too demanding. As you’ve probably seen from your prep, it’s less about practical use and more about understanding traits and countermeasures. The others are similar.”

“In other words, ‘a mountain of self-study’ applies to them too.”

“Exactly. Now you see why I’m always holed up in the dorm or library?”

“And now I’m joining you.”

Outdoor reading would have to wait until spring ended. Maybe next year… though next year would probably be even busier. Sigh.

“Well, it’s the same in other departments. Everyone’s memorizing until their wax tablets or papyrus wear out.”

“At least we’ve got it better. We can study together.”

Study groups didn’t guarantee better grades, but having mutual supervision meant even slackers had to pretend.

Come to think of it, before enrollment, we’d done something similar in mock battles…

“Speaking of which, for Mock Battle Practice, everyone’s doing mock battles, right? You okay with that?”

“Hah. Of course—I lost again last week. To that guy from House Dennis.”

“The one who presented today?”

“That’s the one.”

“How’s his skill level?”

“Hmm, I’m hardly qualified to judge, but rumors say he’s not bad. At least among those in the practical course… Upper tier, I’d say?”

“Tough matchup for you.”

At my blunt assessment, the Frontier Count gave a wry smile.

“Can we really blame luck for what we’re learning here? In real war, one loss could cost your life—or burn your lands to the ground. If a man with no skill cries about misfortune, he’s nothing but a fool.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

I shrugged. But hearing him say something so reasonable only made me want to help him more as his vassal.

And honestly, I felt bad about taking credit for someone else’s gift.

‘Still, practical results are what matter in mock battles…’

He might laugh it off now, but I doubted he was happy about losing every time.

And besides—this was about his fiancée, wasn’t it?

“Thinking about it, my lord, it seems what you need isn’t just these books.”

“Hm?”

“How about we head out for a mock battle right now? There’s a few more things I’d like to show you.”

If that’s the case, then as his vassal, this time I’ll teach him something proper—no tricks.

Steeling my resolve, I quickly organized the plan in my head and put on a confident smile.