Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Just as I could enter the Temple without any big issues, Sarkegar too could make it in with ease despite the numerous barriers laid throughout. However, I never expected him to come in disguised as a female servant in the middle of the night.

Now that I thought about it, the person Sarkegar had initially transformed into, Count Argon Pontius, was male. That brought me to the question—what was Sarkegar’s actual gender? Or were Dreadfiends a race without gender?

“How did you even get into my room?”

“It wasn’t that difficult, Your Highness.”

Sarkegar had a master key that all servants had. I didn’t know the specifics, but there were probably various ways to acquire it without any difficulty.

At any rate, there were several tangled issues that I had to consult the others about, so I had to speak with Sarkegar at some point.

“From now on, instead of Your Highness coming directly to me, I’ll be the one to come to you.”

Sarkegar, being skilled in transformation magic, could definitely come contacting me without getting caught.

Because of where we were, Sarkegar did not embellish his statement with excessive flattery or comments this time, as he often did.

“First, regarding the matter of the princess’s supernatural power.”

“Yes. Did you find out anything?”

Sarkegar shook his head.

“If one were willing to take significant risks, it could be possible to find that out, but I came here to report the information I gathered first, before delving further into that.”

It seemed Sarkegar deemed it important to report what he had learned so far, even though he had not found out about Charlotte’s power yet.

“Currently, there’s widespread talk within the imperial family regarding the princess’s supernatural power, especially among those belonging to Prince Vertus’s faction. They suspect that the princess’s power is fake, and that that is the reason it hasn’t been disclosed until now.”

“That means Vertus’s faction does not know what the princess’s supernatural power is, either.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Even the prince did not know what the princess’s supernatural power was. This left open the possibility that Charlotte was not really a superhuman, which ultimately meant that it was likely that her attending the supernatural power classes was merely an act to keep her in the Royal Class.

“That would mean that the only person who knows about the princess’ supernatural power for sure is the emperor...”

Although the teacher of supernatural powers had taken Charlotte aside to do something during class, there was a chance that even then, the ability was not one that could be observed, and that nothing at all would happen.

In that case, Vertus wouldn’t be able to figure out the truth either.

“So, that means that after the emperor, the two who are most likely to know about the truth are Mustang, the Class B homeroom teacher, and the teacher of the supernatural powers class.”

“Yes, that is the assumption.”

The truth behind the princess’s ability was a very significant secret, so neither of them would be likely to speak about it carelessly. Neither of them seemed the type to be easily manipulated, either.

They were both teachers at the Temple. One was the dedicated teacher in charge of instructing superpower-wielding individuals with dangerous talents, and the other was the Royal Class homeroom teacher. Neither of them was ordinary.

“So, what did you mean when you said taking significant risks?”

“If many people knew the secret, I could disguise myself as one of them, but in this case, the secret is known by so few people that it would be difficult to uncover.”

Mustang and the supernatural power class teacher would be residing at the Temple. They could not be easily interfered with, as they held positions of significant importance among the Temple’s teachers.

“Hmm... regardless of whether her supernatural power turns out to be real or fake, the situation is going to be complicated...”

Did she lie about having a nonexistent supernatural power just so that she wouldn’t fall behind Vertus? If so, how long could that lie be sustained? That would mean that the emperor himself was endorsing the lie and making it seem like a fake supernatural power was real.

And would the imperial family go out of their way to inform a very few teachers, including Mustang, the B Class homeroom teacher of the first grade, about the lie, and ensure their silence?

What if her power was real? If it was real, then why would they even need to hide it? I knew the answer to this question. It seemed almost self-explanatory.

“If the princess really does have a supernatural power, then it must be something... exceedingly awkward or embarrassing to disclose.”

“I also believe that would be the case.”

Her power had to be of such a nature that it could damage the honor of the imperial family or perhaps the dignity of the empire. What could it possibly be?

“Alright. If it’s risky, let’s put it aside for now. The truth will reveal itself eventually.”

“Yes, Your Highness. A wise decision.” Sarkegar responded.

We would put the matter of the princess’s power aside for the moment.

“I also have something to discuss on my end, as well.”

“Was there some kind of accident?”

I was going to have to engage in a duel next week, but it did not seem like a good idea to tell him this, as he would probably flip out or display some unnecessarily-excessive loyalty.

“It’s about the princess again.”

“Yes?”

“The princess is looking for me.”

Sarkegar seemed briefly confused. It seemed he didn’t understand what I was saying.

***

After hearing my story, Sarkegar’s expression turned grave.

Indeed, this issue was far more serious than the duel. If handled incorrectly, it could not only endanger me but also destroy the very foundation and base of our activities, the Rotary Club. Adding to that, the fact that Vertus had also started to pay attention to me made Sarkegar’s expression grow even more serious.

“Your Highness, the Temple seems to be a dangerous place. It might be best to keep a low profile and leave—”

“If I do that, I might be safe, but the club will surely be done for.”

Charlotte would sweep away the Rotary Club in an instant if I disappeared. Money was a very important foundation for us. Although I didn’t know how it had turned out this way, the club had become an indispensable financial lifeline for all of us. Even though I no longer needed the money, Sarkegar still did.

“It’s a cruel situation indeed. To think that the princess is trying everything she can to repay the debt that she incurred to you when you saved her has unexpectedly become a problem for us now...”

“...”

‘Um, weren’t you the one who kidnapped her? It doesn’t really make sense for you to say that... Without you, who knows, I might have been able to reveal my true identity to her.’

But what was done was done. We couldn’t go back in time.

“So, it turns out I have been assigned the absurd task of looking for myself, and I have no idea what to do about it. Should I just fabricate some evidence that I’m dead and show it to them?”

“If the princess could be satisfied with such an answer, it would be best... However, we cannot predict how the princess will react after she finds out.”

“Oh, uh... right.”

Was she rebutting my comment about her ruining her household? Had she even been talking about herself just now?

She never talked about herself with anyone; hence, no one except the prince knew that she was the younger sister of the hero, Ragan Artorius.

And yet, she had now revealed to me that she’d come to the Temple because she’d been asked to, not because she wanted to, just because I’d given her a bit of grief about her eating habits.

Of course, I was aware of her story and background, since I was the one who had written it out, but it was still surprising that she would talk about it to me.

She was right. As soon as the empire found out that Ragan Artorius had a young sister, they had begged her to come to the Temple.

“Are you mad?”

“No.”

With that response, I could confirm that I had, it seemed, become the first person to successfully make Ellen annoyed.

***

Training was more intense on weekends. The weekday classes almost felt like some sort of break, and since I trained even harder during my personal free time, the weekends were nothing short of experiencing hell firsthand.

Adriana, as usual, spent even longer periods coaching me through various training regimens over the weekend, and I also had to eat tremendous amounts of food.

Sunday came around...

“Ah, that’s not quite how it’s done.”

“...”

In the kitchen, I became the ultimate backseat cook while I watched Ellen prepare her food. She had entered the kitchen this time and insisted on cooking after I had repeatedly cooked for her while boasting about it. It seemed she was tired of hearing me take all the credit.

The dish of the day appeared to be beef stew with plenty of tenderloin. When I asked if she knew how to make that, she said that she often ate it at home.

“Oh... Oh? Are you sure about that? Oh, sorry don’t mind me, just do your thing. It was just a comment.”

“You’re going to add salt there?”

“Come on, this is overcooked... You’ll have a sore jaw trying to chew this!”

“You’re missing something... But it seems like you don’t know what it is.”

“Adding herbs at such an awkward time... hmm.”

.

.

.

“...”

Ellen simply looked at me silently in response to my ongoing commentary and criticism.

“... I don’t think it’s a good idea to look at someone like that while holding a knife in your hand.”

My voice shifted into a respectful tone thanks to my apprehension, but she just stared at me blankly, knife in hand.

“...”

‘I’d rather you just get angry at me, rather than staring at me wordlessly with that kitchen knife! Please, that’s too scary!’

After a moment, Ellen turned her attention back to cooking.

“Calm down... It seemed like one more word from me and you would have actually stabbed me then.”

Of course, my mouth never actually took a break from the nagging.

Ellen’s reactions were of a different sort from Harriet’s cute ones; it might seem like she never reacted, but in reality, she did.

To be honest, I’d understand if she got angry enough to punch me.

Despite my incessant nagging, Ellen was undeterred, and finally finished cooking. She carried the enormous amount of stew over and set it down on the table. Perhaps because of her apparent indifference earlier, I felt the need to annoy her even more.

We each dished ourselves a bowl of the stew and ate a spoonful.

I stared intently at Ellen.

“...”

“...”

I had been half-teasing and joking the whole time, but the outcome was still as expected.

“Too salty.”

“Yeah.”

She said she often ate it at home, but didn’t say anything about making it herself.

In the end, she re-cooked the stew according to my instructions and managed to create a stew that was edible.

“How is it? Edible now, isn’t it?” I asked.

“... Yes.”

“Of course it is! Because it was done by me!”

“...”

I was provoking her right up until the end, and was rewarded by the sight of the veins on Ellen’s forehead popping out, her skin taut with irritation. I was thrilled at my accomplishment of having angered the stoic statue.

Ah, I had to be a sadist indeed.

And then, on Monday evening...

“That’s not quite how it’s done,” Ellen commented nonchalantly as she watched me wielding my sword on the training grounds.

“... What did you say?”

“You’re not doing it right,” she insisted.

Ellen had begun to exact her revenge for all the times I had given her excessive advice and acted like a know-it-all.