The Villain’s Aide Has Run Away

What had he been about to say, only to cut himself short?

And why was he looking at Leslun with such regret?

While Robin tilted his head, unable to guess at the circumstances between the two, Leslun thought of a fitting phrase that could complete the words the Crown Prince had left hanging.

“You must feel as a parent would.”

Meanwhile, Robin watched as Kailos’s expression collapsed in real time.

Well, of course—being told one was acting like a parent toward the very partner one had spent the night with could not possibly feel pleasant.

Thus this meeting ended in a completely unexpected place.

***

The bell rang.

Into the silence of the Academy, warmth finally began to flow.

Students, having readied themselves in their respective dormitories, made their way one by one across the campus toward the lecture hall.

It was the official opening day, the first day that lectures at the Academy would begin.

Contrary to its old-fashioned exterior, the Academy lecture hall’s interior was orderly. Soft sunlight streamed in through the windows, and in front of the slate set at the head of the room stood a podium for the professor.

The first class today was Introduction to Political Theory.

Since it was the very first lecture, the atmosphere could not help but be stiff. Most of the students sat in small groups, as if already forming factions.

At the center among them was the Empress’s faction.

When Leslun entered the lecture hall, several gazes fixed on him at once.

“So that’s the one who serves as the Crown Prince’s aide?”

“That’s right. I couldn’t believe it at the entrance ceremony, but he really came.”

The whispers were loud enough to be heard even from afar, and some did not even bother to avert their eyes. Leslun pretended not to notice and chose a seat.

Preferably in the back row, but not so far in the corner—somewhere moderate.

“His family looks insignificant. I heard it was the Crown Prince who got him in.”

“With this happening from the start, I wonder if the Academy will function properly. If it turns into a place where just anyone can enter, then what?”

“Exactly. Maybe I should’ve chosen a different academy.”

“The problem is that the Crown Prince was put in charge of this Academy to begin with. If it were me—”

The sound of the door opening cut the man off.

A man who appeared to be the professor entered. He was middle-aged, with neatly combed gray hair, and held a textbook in hand.

“Everyone, please take your seats.”

Once the professor stood at the podium, the clustered groups turned toward the front. Thanks to that, freed from their stares, Leslun secretly let out a breath.

It was not an unforeseen situation, yet the openly unpleasant gazes were unsettling all the same.

It was a familiar feeling. Having experienced it enough even in the Count’s household, perhaps he was all the more sensitive to it.

And yet, strangely enough—

‘If anyone tries to bully you, remember them and write it down.’

Because those words, spoken to him before leaving the Imperial Gardens, were engraved in his memory, he found no time to dwell on discomfort.

Leslun unwittingly smiled, then quickly corrected his expression.

“Politics is the logic of power. However, if one does not understand where that power originates, one is bound to become a mere tool.”

The professor’s introduction continued. Leslun opened his notebook and began to take notes.

Though he kept his eyes on the professor, his notes filled with the class material, written in an exceptionally neat hand.

By the midpoint, the professor posed a question.

“In line with today’s theme, let me ask: if drought and famine repeatedly strike the territory of a provincial lord, in what manner should the central authority intervene? Aside from simple food aid, suggest any policy alternatives you may think of.”

A student, caught by the professor’s gaze and called upon, hesitated, then spoke awkwardly.

“Wouldn’t it be best to leave it to local self-governance? Outside interference could provoke backlash.”

The professor tilted his head at the answer.

“Leaving it to autonomy could be considered a passive response. Is there no more proactive measure? Any other opinions?”

At that moment, a blond-haired young man seated opposite raised his hand. It was Cal.

“The central government should dispatch inspectors to assess the situation firsthand, then send officials skilled in problem-solving on a temporary assignment. That way, many issues could be resolved. For example, they could submit reports on reorganizing agricultural foundations and supporting canal construction, which the central government would then carry out.”

“There is such a method, indeed.”

Nods spread among the students. Cal leaned back confidently and smiled.

The professor nodded lightly, then turned his gaze elsewhere.

His eyes stopped on Leslun. As they did, so too did everyone else’s.

“If there is another opinion, speak.”

Leslun hesitated briefly, then opened his mouth.