My Beloved Princess ~The Boy Called Incompetent Rises with Only a Sword and the Princess's Devotion~

The Princess’s eyes swayed left and right.

Her gaze was fixed on the ball in Kishō’s hand. Right, then left. Using a snap of his wrist, the ball traveled back and forth along the same trajectory.

If he threw the ball like this and commanded “Go get it!” there was an atmosphere suggesting she might really go retrieve it. He felt tempted to try, but even Kishō secretly rejected the idea as being far too disrespectful.

If it were Ōka, he’d unhesitatingly say “Go get it!” without reservation.

Though the Princess said she wanted to be treated the same as Ōka, he still felt hesitant about treating her like a dog. He felt like their distance had closed somewhat since becoming engaged, but even so, it still felt wrong to show disrespect to the noble Princess.

That’s right, Ōka was a pet and companion animal, Kishō told himself. So this wasn’t him favoring Ōka and neglecting the Princess.

But if—just if—he threw this ball and commanded “Go get it!” and the Princess really went to retrieve it, what kind of reaction was Kishō supposed to have? If it were Ōka, she’d come back with some sarcastic retort, but in the Princess’s case, he couldn’t envision that scenario. It was frightening because she might seriously obey without any joking.

Yes, that was the problem. The Princess had a devoted and straightforward personality.

She seemed to still believe Ōka’s words “your no-no means yes-yes” and take them seriously. If he carelessly said something as a joke, there was no telling how seriously she might take it. Making such excuses in his heart, Kishō tossed the ball with a light throw.

The setting was the ramshackle hut. The secret base he’d found together with Ōka.

The ball rolled across the narrow interior with a clatter.

Then, a white fluffy thing fiercely chased after the ball, bit down on the rolling object with a “chomp,” flailed its short legs, and returned. The fluffball presented the ball as if offering tribute. When he petted that soft head, the creature cried out “Gyuuuu!” happily.

—Killer Rabbit.

A magical beast inhabiting the Beast King Forest that, contrary to its adorable appearance, actually had high combat ability, positioning it at the upper levels of the ecological pyramid. Normally they moved in packs and collectively preyed on adversaries. However, they had honorable personalities and never forgot a debt received once. They seemed to be magical beasts whose survival strategy was clearly distinguishing between enemies and allies.

So why was such an adorable yet dangerous magical beast at the academy—at their secret base no less? Because one had somehow stowed away in the wagon, and Ōka had brought it back.

“Hmm. It seems to have finally recognized Kishō as master. Not bad.”

The Princess nodded her meager-expression face with satisfaction.

The Killer Rabbit was attached to the Princess. It was passionately devoted to her, hopping behind her and never leaving her side. However, the Princess herself had said:

“The master isn’t me, it’s Kishō. Even for a magical beast with low intelligence, I won’t permit mistaking its master. If it intends to enter our pack, it must get that part right.”

And despite no one asking her to, she’d arbitrarily begun training it.

Ultimately, she appeared to be excellent as a trainer too, and the rabbit came to recognize Kishō as master.

(No, that’s not right. It’s just obeying on the surface because Kuroyō commands it. It really thinks of Kuroyō as master.)

In fact, after presenting the ball, wasn’t it glancing toward the Princess as if wanting to be praised? Kishō smiled wryly despite himself and suggested:

“Hey Kuroyō. You should praise it too.”

“Ah, that’s right. Gyuu-ta, well done. I’ll praise you.”

Because it cried “Gyuuuu!” Ōka had named it “Gyuu-ta.”

The Princess’s white arm extended smoothly and gently petted the fluffy head. Gyuu-ta blinked its round black eyes and cried “Gyuuuu!” happily.

Gyuu-ta was rejoicing on the floor as if inflating. The Princess firmly grasped that round body and placed it on her lap. While seated in the chair, the Princess petted Gyuu-ta’s head. Its nose twitching, Gyuu-ta buried its face in the Princess’s chest. Watching that heartwarming scene that was also somewhat enviable, Kishō voiced what he was thinking:

“Looking at it like this, it’s like you’re holding a baby.”

The Princess stopped the hand that had been petting Gyuu-ta and said blankly with one word:

“Child-making will be next spring, then.”

“What are you suddenly talking about!?”

“You can’t make children outside mating season, right? Though we can unite anytime.”

“You don’t need to explain in detail!? Child-making isn’t something to say loudly.”

The Princess clouded her meager-expression face and pouted her lips with dissatisfaction.

“Do you dislike it?”

“Of course I don’t dislike it! If anything, I’d be thri— Ah, no. Doing such things while we’re students wouldn’t be good, right? By academy rules, we’d be expelled.”

“Then it’s not that you dislike making children with me.”

“O-of course not. We’re, w-well, we’re, we’re, e-engaged after all.”

While the Princess added this calmly, Kishō’s tongue tangled as if tying itself from embarrassment. Still, it apparently got through somehow, and the Princess’s meager-expression face softened. She gently placed a hand on her chest and said:

“A child’s ability is determined by the parents’ bloodline. Surely our child will grow up excellent.”

“That’s right. If they resemble Kuroyō, they’ll be blessed with appearance, and their abilities should be high too.”

“If they resemble you, they’ll be blessed with swordsmanship talent. I’d rather hope for that, actually.”

The fiancée before his eyes had the eyes of a maiden in love, all sparkly. They say love is blind, but the Princess’s trust in Kishō really did seem to break through the heavens and soar higher and higher without limit. Though he felt a trace of anxiety about those excessively high expectations, Kishō decided to think positively. But as if to dash those hopes—

“I’d like to see your children with Ōka too. They’d surely grow up energetic.”

“Bwahahaha!” Kishō spluttered spectacularly. And retorted with all his strength:

“Why does Ōka come up there!?”

“Rather, why would there be any need to exclude Ōka?”

“That’s—why—Ōka and I aren’t in that kind of relation—”

At that point, as if the timing had been calculated, the ramshackle hut’s door was vigorously flung open with a bang.

“Good morning! Just because I’m not here doesn’t mean you two can get all lovey-dovey!”

“We’re not getting lovey-dovey!”

“Oh really? I wonder about that.”

“Ah, that’s true. We were just having a serious discussion. About children with Ōka— Mmph!?”

With lightning-fast movements, he covered the Princess’s mouth. If such a bombshell were dropped, it would create an awkward rift in his relationship with Ōka. It was a conditioned reflex action. But—

“Gyuuuu!”

Suddenly, Gyuu-ta, who’d been docile on the Princess’s lap, began trembling.

And then—with a pop sound, Gyuu-ta gigantified. Opening its huge mouth lined with shark-like jagged teeth, it leaped toward Kishō.

“Wait a minute! Don’t gigantify!?”

“Wow, it got angry thinking Yō-chan was being bullied.”

“Now Gyuu-ta. What do you think you’re doing, baring fangs at your master?”

“Gyuuuu?”

The ramshackle hut, which could barely stand as it was, screamed under the large tremor.