Side Story 11. National Academy

2024.04.22.

Between spring and summer.

Yuan heard the sound of prolonged monsoon rain tapping against vine leaves like a song.

Clade, who once thought he would never welcome summer again, now found himself able to embrace it.

Having spent the entire rainy season nestled beside Clade within the manor, sensing the passage of seasons cheek to cheek, Yuan—by the tail end of that summer—departed for the National Academy upon recommendation from Emperor Noel Euphris.

***

A corridor within the National Academy.

Yuan, wearing a stiff beret and letting her black hair fall loose, hurried along briskly.

Upon her chest gleamed a golden badge symbolizing her position as second-year medical department captain, alongside a crimson badge granted exclusively to the top student of her year.

Behind Yuan, arms laden with thick tomes and wearing identical attire yet bearing no badge, Ariesta trailed closely and fervently.

“Arri, I’m seriously asking with zero ulterior motive.”

“I know.”

“I swear, not even a single centimeter of hidden agenda in my dark heart.”

“No need to justify yourself, Ariesta. Just ask Lancelot to casually offer advice while you’re playing chess with him—that’s all.”

“You left out the crucial part! The key point is ‘deliberately calling over Ariesta, who’s looking elsewhere, and pleading desperately for help!’”

To succeed her father, who had returned to the East and once again become Grand Duke Drietter, Ariesta entered the Academy at the same time as Yuan.

It was Grand Duke Drietter’s wish that she learn alongside diverse talents, believing it beneficial for her still-inexperienced management of territories and administrative duties.

Ariesta adapted well to classes.

Her grades were quite good, but recently—seemingly deep in contemplation of practical matters—she had become intensely focused on scouting potential husbands to assist her in governing her lands.

Preferably a second or third son from a noble-blooded family.

This time, Lancelot Rev seemed to be her target.—Yet Yuan had long noticed that Ariesta, far from being indifferent, was actually drawn toward Lancelot, whom she outwardly seemed to detest—

“Ariesta. You still haven’t outgrown that habit since childhood? Didn’t you tell Eugene last year, ‘Arri has watched you for quite a while. If you plan to pass the heir position to your younger brother, how about staying by my side to help me?’? Do you know how chills ran down my spine when I heard that!”

“Stay out of this, Tasha Kimfri. This is strictly between Ari and Yuan.”

Ariesta half-lifted Yuan’s stack of books and subtly pressed closer.

When she first encountered Yuan at the Academy, she’d felt uneasy—what cruel twist of fate brought her face to face with Clade’s former wife?—but gradually grew fond of Yuan’s diligent studies and top-tier grades, and above all, she was drawn to Yuan’s sincere, agenda-free manner—unlike other students who conspicuously avoided her.

She’d even begun to feel quietly jealous of Tasha, who—due to similar circumstances (Tasha had re-entered the long-graduated Academy to study administration, after Eugene Kimfri declared he’d relinquish Eastern succession to travel)—kept clinging to Yuan whenever she had free time.

Tasha, likewise, found Ariesta’s sudden over-friendliness toward Yuan irritating.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, wondering if Ariesta was attaching herself to soft-hearted Yuan for some ulterior scheme.

“Don’t you realize why people dislike you?”

“What? People don’t dislike Arri. If beauty is overwhelming, how can I help it if others find me intimidating to approach?”

Ariesta’s watery eyes sparkled as she spoke; Tasha responded with a scoff.

“It’s because you whine ‘Arri this, Arri that’ just like old Bollonico used to—people gossip endlessly about it.”

“What? What did you say?”

Bollonico was Ariesta’s sorest spot.

At the mere utterance of his initial consonant ‘b’, she’d shudder violently and clamp her hands over her ears—so hearing Tasha Kimfri brazenly blurt his full name caught her completely off guard, eyes popping wide.

“Y, Yuan. Say something, won’t you? Isn’t that wrong?”

“…It’s kind of similar. Wonder who started imitating whom?”

“No one was imitating anyone!”

Ariesta shrieked, nearly bursting into tears, then bolted in the opposite direction of Yuan’s hurried destination.

Tasha Kimfri, looking smug, easily picked up the books Ariesta had dumped into her arms.

“Don’t indulge everyone so much. Because you tolerate even weirdos like her, people from everywhere keep seeking you out. Even ten bodies wouldn’t be enough.”

Tasha was right.

Yuan did want to make new friends at the Academy, but the age gap with typical freshmen and her lack of experience actively befriending others—beyond Clade and Noel—left her uncertain.

Yet, strangely, classmates who initially kept their distance due to Yuan’s notorious rumors gradually became captivated by her academic excellence, the prestige of the “Pelliese” name, and her down-to-earth personality—everyone now vied to befriend her.

Excluding the old messy rumors, few in the medical department matched Yuan’s current charm and network value.

Yuan noticed classmates flashing bright smiles and waving whenever they passed her.

She’d respond with an awkward wave, and their endlessly delighted, beaming faces felt refreshingly genuine.

“…Honestly, it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“They say His Grace worries too much, even though you’re clearly thriving just fine on your own.”

Yuan flinched and quickened her steps.

Clade had whispered sweetly, wearing the tender face of a devoted lover, urging her to do whatever she pleased—and even attended her Academy enrollment ceremony.

But as he scanned the faces of incoming medical students, his expression gradually hardened.

Upon realizing male students vastly outnumbered females in the medical department, Clade forcibly enrolled Lancelot into the Estate Management Department before the enrollment ceremony even ended.

Suddenly dumped into a department mostly attended by heirs building networks for future territory inheritance, Lancelot stood grinding his teeth in the middle of his alma mater’s auditorium—long since graduated from the Swordsmanship Department.

That wasn’t all.

Clade also persuaded Count Kimfri—the elderly noble still eager to support anything Clade requested—to enroll Tasha Kimfri, a potential future Eastern heir, into the Academy.

Unable to place her in the same medical department as Yuan, he assigned her to Lancelot’s department. Naturally, Tasha—who wished to avoid marriage-pressure nagging—readily accepted the proposal.

Occasionally, when Noel visited to meet Academy professors, dating became convenient; for her, this place was practically heaven.

The problem was Yuan.

She’d been so thrilled that her close friends coincidentally began Academy life simultaneously, she took far too long to realize how extremely suspicious that was.

Only recently—when rumors surfaced that even Hile, practically a houseplant without Yuan around, might become a guest professor at the Academy—did she understand it was all a result of Clade’s power, wielded under Noel’s request after Clade ascended as “Regent Duke.”

Naturally, Yuan wrote Clade a lengthy letter demanding explanation.

It had already been two weeks since she sent it.

Clade hadn’t replied, and she’d been too busy with upcoming exams to dwell on it.

It was a belatedly realized cold war.

Seeing Yuan’s eyes instantly droop, Tasha made a “oops” face and hurried to console her.

***

A finely dressed man fixed his gaze out the carriage window.

Noel, seated opposite, continued to stare at his cousin, who still felt as immovable as a mountain.

“Ah, still uneasy, I see.”

“Someone schemed to forcibly separate me from my wife for life, you know.”

“Ah, I believe you’re technically still divorced.”

“If I’d known you were capable of such cute little tricks, I wouldn’t have granted you any power.”

Clade muttered coldly. He turned his gaze toward his cousin’s innocently gentle face.

That benevolent face must have been what lured Enoch Pelliese.

He must have convinced Clade’s pitiful niece—how hard she’d struggled through life, how difficult her journey had been both within and beyond her marital home—that what she truly desired was a broader world and education, thereby stubbornly refusing to stamp the annulment documents.

He must have also swayed Yuan by sending her Academy brochures and recommendation letters.

Even after Yuan had completed one year and entered her second at the Academy, his anger showed no sign of subsiding.

“Y, Your Grace, I need you.”

“So I’ll keep Yuan bound here.”

“Aha ha.”

“Vile brat.”

“Y, Your Majesty learned that for the nation’s interest, one must sometimes be… vile.”

“You’re invoking national interest just to trap me alone?”

“Y, Your Grace, I hoped you would… help me. If you separately establish a duchy, won’t I truly become a stranger to you?”

Clade had planned to absorb several surrounding territories centered on Roxenhardt and declare independence against Euphris.

Solen Racha’s army had already agreed to assist, gladly becoming vassals of Roxenhardt once it was elevated to a Grand Duchy.

Even Duke Celetina, frantically calculating which side to align with, was in the same boat.

But then Noel bound Yuan here—at the heart of Euphris—and granted Clade the title of Regent Duke.

In all Euphris history, never had a newly crowned emperor openly admitted his own inadequacy and requested regency from another potential heir to the throne.

It was perfect submission and respect—placing Clade above even the emperor himself.

Simultaneously, it served as a chilling warning to hyenas insisting the Roxenhardt Duke must be eliminated to strengthen imperial authority.

Clade stared directly at his cousin, who—despite sweating profusely—had made and successfully executed such an enormous decision.

Since childhood, he’d thought Noel’s mind extraordinarily sharp despite his sluggish physique.

Perhaps Igor had recognized this quality in Noel Euphris all along.

Maybe, for Igor, deliberately ignoring his son to ensure he’d never covet the throne was the best possible method of restraint.

Clade looked at the emperor he’d personally chosen and curled his lips.

Arrogant—but not a losing strategy.

Ultimately, Yuan gained the chance to experience the ordinary life she’d never enjoyed, while he himself gained time to govern this love-hate Euphris temporarily and eliminate future threats.

Though the sight of an emperor groveling to expose his own inadequacies remained utterly intolerable.

But since this was Noel Euphris’s way of ruling his country, further argument was pointless.

After all, the omnipotent status of “Regent Duke” granted him ample opportunity to subtly protect his young fledgling at the Academy.

Clade chuckled faintly, resigned, and turned back to gaze out the carriage window, leaving Noel—who fidgeted nervously with his hands—to his own devices.

The violet eyes, darkly shadowed, took in the main gate of the National Academy.