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

“By the way, can you release breath from your mouth too?”

Leaning his back against the deteriorated chair in a relaxed posture with both arms behind his head, Kishō said. Ōka, who’d been voraciously eating her giant serpent fried lunch box, responded while moving her chipmunk-like puffed cheeks.

“Yep.”

“Huh. Then Ōka, could you show me?”

“Even close friends need manners. Can Shō-kun vomit in public?”

“Ugh, so releasing breath from your mouth feels like vomiting…”

Kishō, who wasn’t familiar with dragonkin culture and had been born and raised in the human city of Argant, didn’t have that sensation. Due to his innate talent, he couldn’t release breath, but even if he could use it, he still felt like it wouldn’t feel like vomit.

Then the Princess, who’d been glaring at a thick book facing the long table, stopped the movement of the pen she’d been running across parchment and raised her face.

“In recent years it’s considered vulgar, and it seems no one uses it anymore.”

“So that means it was used in the past.”

“It’s called breath for a reason. In ancient times, like our dragon ancestors, it was apparently normal to exhale it from the mouth.”

Kishō nodded with admiration at the knowledgeable Princess.

Dragonkin were a race that valued power over academics. That was clear from the fact that classroom studies weren’t included in the overall grades required for graduation in the academy’s curriculum. But this talented and beautiful Princess was also an excellent student in academics. He even felt like if he asked her, she could answer anything.

That most excellent and reliable Princess pouted her lips slightly with dissatisfaction for some reason.

“Won’t you ask me?”

“Ask you what?”

“If you request it, showing you breath from my mouth would be nothing.”

A bit of redness colored her emotion-scarce face.

Perhaps she was saying this while enduring embarrassment. However, he certainly couldn’t actually request “Show me vomit.” He might be able to say it as a joke to Ōka, but he couldn’t possibly show such disrespect to the noble Princess.

Just because they were engaged didn’t mean he wanted to act in ways that would diminish her dignity. However, the Princess herself seemed completely unconcerned about this. There was a dangerous atmosphere suggesting that if Kishō asked, she’d seriously do anything.

The other day, when he’d requested he wanted to eat home cooking, she’d made him a lunch box. It was a wild-looking bento. With rough seasoning from eyeball measurements close to men’s cooking, the brown and white contrast had a haphazard presentation. Who had influenced her was obvious at a glance, but the taste was good and it was normally delicious.

However, appearance was also included in evaluating cooking. He could casually complain to Ōka, but with the Princess it wasn’t like that.

And as this showed, the Princess had a very honest personality and was greatly influenced by people she trusted. The rough, brown-colored seasoning was, needless to say, Ōka’s influence. In other words, since they’d even become engaged, there was a dangerous atmosphere where she’d do anything if Kishō asked.

For example, just for example. If he said he wanted to kiss right here and now, he even thought she might respond. If he wished for a lap pillow, he might be able to rest his head on her delicate curves. If he said he wanted to use her as a body pillow, surely they’d sleep together—

At the point where his delusions accelerated, Kishō shook his head violently. And then—

“Whoa!?”

The Princess’s face was just a few centimeters from his nose.

She was the ultimate beauty whose glimpse alone made his chest pound. Sacred and inviolable. When he reflexively leaned back to take distance from the sanctuary, he lost balance along with the backrest and fell backward with a thud. Since he’d been completely caught off guard, he couldn’t manage defensive posture in time and violently struck the back of his head. Stars flew across Kishō’s vision.

“Ow, that hurts…”

“Are you alright?”

The Princess helped him up, and Kishō raised himself.

The Princess looked up at him with upturned eyes as if wanting to say something. When Kishō patted that defenseless head, seemingly satisfied by that, the Princess nodded. And then—

◇◇◇◇◇

“If you request it, showing you breath from my mouth would be nothing.”

“No, it’s not necessary.”

Kuroyō groaned “Muu” with dissatisfaction.

Having learned her first love, Kuroyō had completely entered maiden-in-love mode.

She thought that if it was Kishō’s request, she’d listen to anything, and if it would make him happy, she wanted to proactively do it. In short, she was head over heels, but the distance with Kishō wasn’t closing very well.

The other day, since Kishō had requested he wanted to eat home cooking, she’d decided to try making a lunch box. Since Kuroyō had no cooking experience, she had Ōka instruct her and worked hard to make it. It was a wild-looking bento of white and brown, but she thought the taste had turned out satisfactorily. She’d even received Ōka’s seal of approval.

However, he seemed to have mistaken it for a lunch box Ōka made, and said:

“Hey Ōka. I think color is also important in cooking.”

He’d complained, and then when he realized that bento was something Kuroyō made, he turned pale, flailed both arms enough to fly through the sky, and said:

“No no no, this looks good in its own way, right? After all, food is about filling your stomach. Yeah, delicious! Wow, it really turned out well for a first attempt.”

He’d magnificently flipped his tune.

It wasn’t that she was dissatisfied about being criticized.

She didn’t mind being treated carelessly either.

She just wanted to be treated the same as Ōka, Kuroyō thought. She wanted to be with Kishō naturally. When would he understand that subtle maiden’s heart?

Showing breath from her mouth was the same. Dragonkin girls devoted themselves to their masters and considered being acknowledged the greatest joy. So—

“Just command me to do it with one word. You’re too reserved.”

“No, I really can’t say show me vomit.”

He was like this.

Of course, compensation would have to be paid, but if he just praised her with “well done,” that would be fine. At that time, if he’d pet her head, even better. Or if he’d whisper love together, nothing more to say. However, being petted when she’d done nothing was no good. It was because she was petted as a reward that it made her happy.

Different values—that would be the end of it.

Kuroyō also faintly sensed that.

But this feeling called love welling up from the bottom of her heart didn’t seem controllable by logic. The dragonkin instinct to serve and be praised was the same.

And what Kuroyō desired most of all was expressions of affection from her beloved. Because surely being whispered sweet words of love was a woman’s greatest joy. However, even Ōka, who was closest to Kishō, hadn’t received this. Truly a difficult task.

That said, it wasn’t like there had been no approach from Kishō’s side.

Just the other day, he’d invited her saying “Won’t you go on a date?” But Kuroyō had been raised from childhood to value pack harmony. So for her, this time at the ramshackle hut with the three of them—Kishō, Ōka, and herself—was an irreplaceably precious time. She didn’t feel the need to deliberately introduce a rift there, and didn’t want to monopolize Kishō. And more than anything, she hadn’t wanted to make Ōka lonely and sad by leaving her alone.

For such reasons, the two were missing each other, and therefore their relationship wasn’t progressing as hoped.

Kuroyō was dissatisfied with that current state.

She didn’t need to date just the two of them, but she did want him to whisper love.

But he said he couldn’t get all lovey-dovey in public.

That’s right. He was shy. Thoroughly so.

Even if not in public, he probably still wouldn’t shout his love.

So Kuroyō devised a plan.

A special strategy to make him shout his love.

She really shouldn’t deceive her master.

But this was a necessary treatment. She told herself so.

While thinking about this, before she knew it, the distance with Kishō had closed. His face was just a few centimeters from her nose. Surprised by that sudden approach, he tumbled from his chair, so Kuroyō extended her hand and helped him up.

Then, he silently and brusquely patted her head. 60 points. Not bad, but words were lacking. So Kuroyō nodded and said:

“A maiden’s heart is complicated. So I’m going to be a little selfish.”