My Beloved Princess ~The Boy Called Incompetent Rises with Only a Sword and the Princess's Devotion~ - Chapter 012: A Dream Beyond His Station

The three-story main school building.

Lying back on the slanted triangular roof with his hands folded behind his head as a pillow, Kishō gazed up at the cloudless blue sky. Brilliant sunlight poured down, scorching his body with its heat. Drowsiness tugged at him, and he let out a yawn.

He shifted his gaze toward the ground. Female students swarmed around the spot where he’d been standing just moments ago, chattering noisily about something.

“Huh? He’s not here.”

“Where’d he go?”

Words like that drifted up to him.

Three days had passed, and the temporary surge of popularity had begun to die down, but there were still girls who hadn’t given up and kept approaching him. Since he couldn’t forget the treatment they’d once given him, Kishō had naturally rejected every single one of them outright.

Still, treating girls who showed him affection so coldly pained his heart.

A sigh escaped him naturally.

“Great, I shook them off easily enough. But how long do I have to stay up here?”

With a dragonkin’s leg strength, a vertical jump of over ten meters was nothing. Leaping onto a third-floor roof took only a bit of effort—anyone could manage it. That’s why when searching for a dragonkin fugitive, you couldn’t just search the surrounding area horizontally—you had to search vertically at the same time. It was fortunate for Kishō that his pursuers lacked that basic skill.

Deciding arbitrarily that the pursuit would thin out once classes started, Kishō began dozing off. Incidentally, since the current preparation period only offered optional lecture courses, he had every intention of skipping them.

Just then—

As he closed his eyes and started dozing, a shadow suddenly fell across his eyelids.

“Huh. So the rumors about you running from girls are true after all.”

Kishō cracked his eyes open slightly. A nearly two-meter-tall giant stood with arms crossed, looking down at him. It was a man he recognized.

“You’re the first-year top student, if I remember right.”

He recalled this was one of the men who’d sparred with the Princess onstage the day she’d visited the Lower School.

“Seikan.”

The man answered curtly.

Like all dragonkin, the man—Seikan—had refined features. But they weren’t refined in the direction of handsome or good-looking, but rather ruggedly masculine. Combined with the title of top student, he’d undoubtedly be popular with women.

Kishō sat up and looked up at the giant.

“So what does the first-year top student want with me?”

Dragonkin men generally didn’t fraternize with each other. Their instincts judged each other as potential enemies who might someday clash over territory. Naturally, this was their first conversation. Kishō frowned warily.

Seikan chuckled wryly at his less-than-friendly attitude.

“Being bad with women is pretty unusual. You don’t swing that way, do you?”

He winked. Kishō felt sick.

“Hell no! Don’t tell me you…”

“Bwahaha! Of course not. I love women more than three square meals a day.”

Hands on his hips, Seikan laughed heartily with genuine amusement. Quite seriously relieved, Kishō’s wariness eased slightly. Seikan spoke in a booming voice.

“So I hear you fought the Upper School top student to a draw. That’s why all this fuss, huh? I was knocked out cold, so I couldn’t watch. Bwahaha!”

He laughed it off like it was someone else’s problem entirely. Faced with such refreshingly bold cheerfulness, something pricked painfully in Kishō’s chest.

“Hey now, this isn’t someone else’s problem for you either. Even girls who had their eyes on you are coming to me now.”

“So what if they are?”

“So what… doesn’t that bother you at all?”

“Not at all,” came the instant reply, and then Seikan declared proudly, “It’s natural for them to follow the superior man. If they left me, all responsibility lies with me for being inadequate. Resenting the women would be off the mark.”

The pain in Kishō’s chest intensified until it felt like his breathing might stop. Grimacing with discomfort, he still tried to argue back.

“But feelings of love aren’t something you can just throw away that easily.”

Tired of standing on the slope, Seikan sat down next to Kishō without asking permission. He exhaled and looked up at the sky, mimicking Kishō’s posture.

“It can’t be helped if it’s for survival. You know this, right? Of us dragonkin males, thirty percent die within a year of graduation. And of those who survive, ninety percent die within the next ten years. Following a young man is that much of a gamble by itself. Naturally they’d select superior men.”

“But that’s only because you throw yourselves into territorial disputes. If you left dragonkin territory and lived in human lands instead, you could live much longer. You could have peaceful lives for decades.”

That was Kishō’s lived experience. An unconventional perspective for a dragonkin, possible only because he’d grown up in the human city of Algant. That was probably why the Princess hadn’t agreed with him either.

Seikan nodded as if understanding.

“So the rumors about you being half-dragon are true. That’s a human way of thinking.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m half human. Got a problem with that?”

“No, no problem at all. Half-dragons are looked down on because they lack power. But you have power. If you’re half human yet strong enough to fight the Upper School top student to a draw, you’re far more respectable than your average dragonkin.”

Might makes right. This was the thinking of pureblooded dragonkin males.

From a dragonkin perspective, he was absolutely correct. It was the textbook answer.

But Kishō’s human emotions wanted to reject those supposedly correct answers.

“So you’re the type who’d say stuff like ‘Saving lost sheep is the duty of powerful dragonkin,’ huh?”

“Bwahaha! That’s the elitist thinking of upper nobility. But I’m different. I want to have many women around me, sure, but I don’t think I need to guide them. In the end, we’re just using each other.”

“Pretty detached for how you look. No wonder you’re fine with them turning on you.”

“Naturally. If I’d formally established a pack and women belonging to it betrayed me, that’d be different. But while we’re students, it’s a trial period for both sides. Getting upset about it is ridiculous.”

Kishō clicked his tongue and fell silent.

As an awkward silence settled, Seikan suddenly cracked his neck.

“By the way, that Upper School top student transferred to the Lower School, apparently.”

“Ah. Yeah, she did.”

“I heard from Instructor Meika that she’s looking for a marriage partner. Did you know?”

“Ah. Yeah, seems like it.”

As Kishō replied listlessly, Seikan burst out laughing.

“Bwahaha! So the rumors about her transferring down here for you are true after all.”

“Huh?”

“The information about her looking for a marriage partner—right now only I know it. I pestered Instructor Meika to tell me that unreleased information specially. Meaning the only way you could’ve known is if she told you directly.”

Called out, blood rushed to Kishō’s face.

True, he’d heard directly from her that she was looking for a marriage partner.

And as for why the Princess had transferred down—he had plenty of ideas.

But Kishō turned away from reality.

“She transferred here for me? No way, that’s ridiculous.”

Seikan sighed as if exasperated.

“Look, if you’re seriously saying that, you’re really something. Think about it. What possible reason would the Upper School top student have to transfer to the Lower School? If there’s even one possibility, it’s only this: to snag her future husband. And the prime candidate for that is you—the only one who managed a draw with her.”

Not just a draw—he’d actually won. Moreover, in a real duel to the death.

But Kishō refused to face reality.

“Huh? Your head’s the one that’s screwy. Who’d willingly marry a dropout like me?”

“But when it comes to swordsmanship alone, you’re exceptional. In fact, you’re unmatched in the Lower School, right? Plus she probably doesn’t know about your grades.”

Seikan was right. The Princess didn’t know that Kishō was a dropout barely scraping by.

True, he thought the Princess held some affection for him. Whether it was romantic love remained unclear, but since she’d applied to join his pack, she at least had fondness for him. But that was only because she was drawn to the false image of “a man superior to herself”—an image that didn’t exist. Once her perception was corrected, she’d surely leave him. Just like the many female students had when he’d been branded incompetent.

—You’re like a fraud.

Suddenly a woman’s voice rose from the depths of his memory to berate him.

It was part of a memory he’d locked away. Painful memories rushed back like a revolving lantern, and Kishō spoke more forcefully than he’d intended.

“Are you saying I’m deceiving her?”

Seikan shrugged.

“With that much power, why do you need to be so self-deprecating? If I were in your position, I’d happily welcome the Princess.”

“I’m facing reality. Unlike you.”

“That’s harsh. But you’re right about one thing—a chance to have a woman of that caliber within reach won’t come twice. It’s way too presumptuous for someone like me to reach for her, but if you’re giving up your claim, maybe I’ll take a shot.”

“Hmph. Do whatever you want. Neither of us are a match for her status anyway.”

“Dragonkin don’t have hereditary succession. Status is something you build yourself.”

It felt like he’d been told that not making an effort to win her was negligence.

“Even so, there are conditions for marrying her. Don’t you know?”

“Oh? Really? You’re well-informed.”

“Apparently you need to be the Upper School top student. Can you do that?”

“Bwahaha! So I need to be superior to that woman? That’s a tall order.”

He closed his eyes as if trying to convince himself.

“It’s better not to dream beyond your station. You’ll only despair when you wake up.”

—No attribute affinity.

In that moment, his entire world had collapsed.

He remembered that instant when everything went dark before his eyes.

He remembered the sensation of sinking into deep despair.

When the Princess learned the truth, the world would end again.

That’s why he couldn’t allow himself excessive hope.

Because he’d never be able to stand up again if he did.

“Ahh, man. Dealing with your negative thinking is making me lose confidence too. Time to bail.”

Shrugging, the giant let out a sigh. The smirk on his face showed he wasn’t serious—it was Seikan’s version of a joke. As he was leaving, he remembered something.

“Oh right, I heard we’re going on an expedition for the summer special training.”

“An expedition?”

“Yeah, to the western forest, he said.”

Raising one hand toward his broad back, Seikan departed.

“Women aren’t to blame, huh… Would be nice if I could act that cool.”

People have a habit of looking down when they’re depressed. As he lowered his gaze toward the ground floor, he happened to see the Princess in question walking alone. She seemed to be heading toward the main building. He didn’t feel like calling out to her and just watched, but the sharp-sensed Princess suddenly looked up at the sky.

Their eyes met.

Without any major stepping motion, with just the lightest kick off the ground, her delicate body leapt all the way up to the triangular roof where Kishō lay.

“Whoa!? Seriously?”

The Princess landed right next to him, then peered at Kishō’s gloomy expression and tilted her head questioningly. She added a slight smile to her usually sparse expression.

“Don’t you have another class?”

Thrown off his rhythm, Kishō answered brusquely.

“It got canceled.”

It was just skipping.

Unaware of this, the Princess murmured “I see” and sat down around where Seikan had been earlier. On the well-ventilated roof, every time the wind blew, the Princess’s black hair danced and brushed past his nose, carrying a pleasant scent.

A distance that felt like lovers. Unable to bear it, Kishō pursed his lips.

“Why are you getting comfortable? What about your next class?”

“It got canceled.”

Liar! he thought, but since he couldn’t talk, he kept his mouth shut.

The Princess was the taciturn type, so she didn’t say anything more after that.

Just having her beside him was enough to raise Kishō’s body temperature by a couple degrees.

—To snag her future husband.

Seikan’s words came back to him, but Kishō shook his head forcefully to dispel those distracting thoughts.

It’s better not to dream beyond your station. He told himself that.