EP.12 S1. 황자와 꽃과 레지스탕스 -2 - Academy’s Undercover Professor

EP.12 S1. The Prince, the Flower, and the Resistance -2 Warmth. The place to which the girl's hand led was filled with warmth. For you, who spent nights homeless wandering the streets, this comfort was a sensation you hadn't felt in quite some time. Crackle. Tap. The quiet blaze inside the fireplace crackled as three strips of bacon sizzled on the pan hung above it. Your mouth watered at the smell and the stimulating sound. As you were distracted by the bacon, the woman mercenary cooking in front of the fireplace tapped the pan with a spoon. With flames dancing in her red hair and a large scar crossing her face, her eyes were sharply alert. And then there was her armor—light yet sturdy made of leather. You recalled the method of assessing combat strength taught by the young knight. Whether the person was armed with a dagger, and if so, how worn its handle was. The woman mercenary had a dagger at her waist, its handle significantly worn. According to the young knight's estimation, she would be a 'seasoned member of the soaring mercenaries.' Back when you were the Second Prince, such a person would hardly catch your attention, but in your current state, powerless and penniless, she posed a significant threat, especially if she exhibited a cutting attitude. Just as you tensed up, readying your magic, the girl who had led you stepped forward. "Lonya, I'm back!" "Centra, who's this guy with you this time? Picked up another stray dog, have you?" "Stray dog! That's an insult to a person!" "A ragged cloak and a skinny frame make a stray dog. You, name yourself." You hesitated momentarily. Your name, which should have been proudly declared, carried a certain meaning in this world. As you clenched your lips and chose silence, Lonya, the called mercenary, began to fill her gaze with a menacing intent. If you can’t even reveal your name, it’s natural to be deemed suspicious. Just then, someone touched the back of your hand gently. Despite the surprise in your heart, maintaining a facade of composure, you turned your eyes. It was Centra’s hand— who had been kindly offering—and still offering—her help. It was a light contact, yet you somehow felt encouraged. As if she were saying, "It's okay." "I am... Ilyd." "Ilyd? Emperor Ilyd who fell to ruin?" "...." "You hesitated for a reason. Anyone who hears that name won’t regard it kindly. Having such a name, your luck's rotten, huh?" Lonya burst into a chuckle, then lowered her voice, issuing a warning. "Stay out of trouble and keep quiet until you leave. Centra may want to help poor ragamuffins, but I'm not the same. I'd rather eliminate them." "I never learned to repay kindness with enmity." "Neither did I learn not to kill ragamuffins." "Stop it!" Centra leapt between you and Lonya to interfere. "I appreciate the concern, but really, I think this Ilyd is a good person. You don’t need to be so wary!" "On what grounds?" "When I jumped from the third floor... he turned his head away, like a gentleman. Come on, Ilyd! Oh, can I call you informally? Come this way, we’ve got an especially tasty stew today!" Once more, you were led. By the softness of her touch, the sunlight of her radiant smile, and the faint scent of rosemary in the air. --------------------------------------------------------------- The position of the Imperial Prince involved meeting many and saying farewell to many. Naturally, among them were women. All the more given the Empire's propensity to actively engage in political marriages. Second Prince Ilyd had met plenty of noble ladies and was fully aware of their ways. The strong scent of perfume, the mask of pretense, the inner desire for power, even the contrived touching pretending to be accidental. Ilyd could swear, he had never once felt his heart flutter. Their intentions were all too obvious in their eyes. Those eyes looked at Ilyd as if he were a treasure trove. Someday, Ilyd was bound to enter into a political marriage. Yet he thought it silly to expect the sentiment called love to blossom in the interim. ...Thus, the slight throbbing he now felt must surely be a mistake. "How’s the stew?" Centra was observing Ilyd eat, her clear eyes with wide pupils didn’t have a trace of pretense. "It’s good. An excellent... dish." Ilyd found himself unable to meet her gaze directly, which carried neither intimidation nor sharpness. His heart raced, and he felt his emotions skittering in an odd direction. Ilyd reassured himself that the uncertainty of being homeless for three days had rattled him, making him overly sensitive to any simple kindness. The former Second Prince organized his thoughts repeatedly. "I'm relieved. I was worried it might not suit your taste!" "I’m not in a position to be choosy. Besides, I'd rather not be so shameless as to demand more from someone offering help." "See, I told you I have a good eye for people...! Lonya keeps nagging me that I’m too trusting, but I have my own judgments. See, Ilyd turned out to be a good person!" Pleased with his reply, Centra delightedly praised her own judgment. Being complimented just for having the decency seemed strange to Ilyd. Was receiving platitudes for something so natural supposed to feel this awkward? Listening to Centra's chatter, Ilyd took another spoonful of stew. Though not as rich in flavor as the delicacies he’d tasted before, the warmth that filled his stomach was pleasant. It seemed to contain a fair amount of meat, imparting a rich aftertaste. Something inside was countering the gamey flavor—a white herb, perhaps? "But you really didn't peek under my skirt, right?" "—Kuh, keh, cough cough...!" Savoring the stew, Ilyd unexpectedly choked. "Goodness gracious, I-I’m so sorry! It just came out... Here, water!" "Cough, cough, cough... You should, choose, your, cough, words, more carefully!" "Drink some water first, come on. Should I pat your back? Oh, or is it supposed to be your stomach?" Centra pat Ilyd's back diligently. The thudding resonated through his body. Fearing he might choke on the water too, he gestured for her to stop. Ilyd settled his choking with a drink. "Whew..." "So you really didn’t look?" "Didn’t you tell the mercenary called Lonya directly?" "I wasn't sure you caught that, just threw it out there in case she kicked me out again. So, your answer?" "I did not look. I swear." "Whew, that's good then. I thought you caught me not wearing any." "No, I clearly saw black..." "So you did see!" Caught by her persistent leading questions, Ilyd quietly bowed his head. Black. Frills. A small, precious red ribbon in the middle. Slightly translucent. It was a configuration he couldn't forget even if he wanted to. Centra blushed slightly as she stammered out. "I didn't ask for no reason, you know, it's just that... people might get the wrong idea, right? That if someone is wearing those kinds of undergarments, they're... you know! I wanted to say it's a misunderstanding." "I never harbored such a misunderstanding." It would be ridiculous—like a unicorn—to jump to the conclusion that 'a woman wearing such lingerie must be loose.' For Ilyd, it wasn't something unfamiliar. The physical advances of noble maidens were always followed by bold lingerie. But he had never felt so embarrassed as this moment. "I may not have money, but I wanted to wear pretty things. Like dresses or jewelry... that sort of thing! So, underwear is the smallest in size so it doesn't cost too much and...?" "Enough, enough!" Ilyd cut her off with an agonized expression. He was afraid of just how much this naive girl might reveal. He now understood why the mercenary Lonya made it her business to protect Centra. --------------------------------------------------------------- "Aaazzzzzzz--!!" "Is it really something to be so delighted about, the prince seeing your panties...?!" I didn’t care if the master of the magic tower thought I was crazy. I had preserved my pride in my own production! As the master mimicked the victory pose I struck, tapping the top of my head, he asked, "So, are you planning to charm the prince as you are, to extract the dragon heart...?" ‘Are you really gay?’ A look that might as well have been part of season 2 of 'those expressions.' It was an intolerable slander. I shook my head firmly. "Nope." "Then, what do you plan to do next?" The fact that the master was asking about the next development suggested he was finally taking an interest in TRPG. I openly shared my plan. "Well, the initial part of my plan is already messed up." "It’s messed up, I see." Messed up. I had waved the white flag in the face of an astonishingly successful dodge of the event, one that not even an academy extra could manage. The timing was off. Even if I wanted to pursue a domain theme now, there wasn't enough time. Wasn't it supposed to be a mere three-hour tasting anyway? My plan was to end the session after laying the groundwork and scattering the plot seeds, thereby fully exploiting the cutting technique of hooking their interest. It’s because the Second Prince's footwork was so mystifyingly intricate that I had run out of time. And it wouldn't be right to just mindlessly pat him till the end—that would lack romance. Nor would it be beneficial. 'I enjoyed the patting, but the early session was a pain. Work yourself to death.' Who's to say that wouldn't happen? I needed a hostage. I would have to quickly build up in a short time / advance the events / and make sure the session was thought to be fun and fruitful. To make them want to do it again. That had been my focus from the start. Fortunately, I now had a lever. The prince was surprisingly weak to physical contact. It was obvious that Ilyd's brain bleached white whenever Centra merely touched his hand, even without a hypnotic brainwashing beam. If things went awry or became stubborn, it seemed grabbing his hand would do the trick now! "We still need to raise his affection. I'll have to flesh out Centra's character a bit more, and once she has a stronger bond with the player, that’s when I’ll trigger an event. Maybe after about... two more sessions." "You say that as if I have no idea...? But, hey." "Yes, what is it?" "About Centra’s character modeling. Was it okay to use the heart like that?" "...Would it be a problem?" I gave it some thought and then dismissed it casually. Could it really be a problem? The Second Prince has never seen the heart anyway.