My Beloved Princess ~The Boy Called Incompetent Rises with Only a Sword and the Princess's Devotion~ - Chapter 045: Do You Seriously Think You Match the Princess and Can Marry Her?

Dragonkin lived independent lives in pack units.

Other races unfamiliar with them often confused this, but the concepts of pack and family weren’t equivalent. More accurately, the expression that the concept of family was included within the concept of pack was appropriate.

A pack was home, organization, and nation. While packs were small, they weren’t much different from polygamous households, but as packs grew larger, the structure changed to what could be called organizations, and ultimately when forming cities, they began acting like city-states.

However, even calling them city-states, they didn’t actually take the form of nations, merely acted that way. Because packs were positioned as fate-bound organizations belonging to the nation. Therefore large packs had city-state level economic and military independence, but due to their nature of belonging to a nation, national law took priority over pack rules.

Thus, though the dragonkin nation possessed this unique culture, it had no national title. People simply called it “the dragonkin nation.” This single fact alone showed that the dragonkin nation didn’t take the form of a typical country.

Then in such a dragonkin nation, what position did the Dragon Emperor hold? As an image, it would be easier to understand if you imagined city-states standing side by side, with the most powerful among them being the Dragon Emperor’s pack.

And because influential noble packs maintained city-state level independence, even the Dragon Emperor couldn’t issue orders to move nobles at will. For example, if war with other races arose and reinforcements were needed, it took the form of making requests.

And this independence applied even when packs were still small-scale. Typical young dragonkin packs averaged six members, but living in towns or cities governed by other packs was fundamentally not permitted. For this reason, they needed to establish living foundations with just six people, ending up living in harsh environments far from civilization like wilderness or forests.

Additionally, with territorial disputes erupting here, dragonkin’s average lifespan naturally shortened. Generally, young packs were said to have ninety percent culled within ten years of founding.

Meaning, following male classmates at academy graduation was a huge gamble in itself. If wanting to safely live a stable life, joining a large pack—the Dragon Emperor’s pack, for instance—would result in far longer life.

However, even so, enough value existed to take the gamble. Because initial members at pack founding were granted the title of six consorts, and when the pack grew large in the future, they could enjoy prosperity as one of the top executives.

Precisely because of this, dragonkin women desperately searched for excellent men. Greedily, without looking aside. And yet—

“Of all things, to fall for such a man…”

Upper School main building. Academy director’s office.

Seiran rested both elbows on her desk and sighed as if holding her head.

Five people in the room besides Seiran.

Her daughter Kōran. The General Consort’s daughter Princess Kuroyō. Lower School student Ōka. And the incompetent male student with no aptitude attribute.

Using the commotion Kōran caused as pretext, she’d dragged the four who’d been about to head home this far. The purpose: to nullify Princess Kuroyō’s engagement.

Defeating the eloquent Princess Kuroyō wasn’t easy. Naturally, the target became the male student called incompetent. Break his spirit and make the engagement itself not have happened. That was Seiran’s role, the mission granted by the General Consort to whom she owed great debt.

“Your shamelessness knows no bounds. Do you seriously think you match Princess Kuroyō and can marry her?”

Making no attempt to hide quiet killing intent, Seiran hurled abuse.

But hatefully, the boy didn’t cower in the slightest and responded with a bold attitude.

“I do.”

After the aptitude attribute examination, there’d been one opportunity to meet the boy face-to-face in the academy director’s office. Back then, though trembling weakly, he’d roared that he wouldn’t leave the academy. Half a year since then—Seiran couldn’t hide her internal surprise that he’d changed this much. But showing none of that turmoil, Seiran didn’t loosen her verbal assault.

“You certainly have talent in swordsmanship. I acknowledge that. However, how do you intend to protect a large pack when you can barely use magic or breath?”

At this, the male student made a slightly troubled face. Naturally. With swordsmanship alone, one couldn’t achieve both offense and defense. Though able to display unparalleled strength in direct single combat, facing groups would definitely result in falling behind.

The role of protecting the pack. That became the consorts’ work once packs grew large, but while packs were still small, it was work the master should undertake.

“Can you take that responsibility?”

Several moments of silence flowed. The male student hung his head pondering something. Instead, Princess Kuroyō started to open her mouth, and the boy stopped her with a restraining hand gesture.

“Regarding that point, I have thoughts too.”

And glancing at Princess Kuroyō standing beside him, he continued.

“I’m confident I can protect Kuroyō alone with these hands. But when it comes to enlarging the pack, that won’t work. Regarding that point, I want to consult with Kuroyō and decide.”

Seiran felt irritation at him rudely calling the Princess without honorifics. But what irritated Seiran even more was that ambiguous attitude.

“Consult? Have some shame!”

A thunder-like roar echoed through the entire academy director’s office.

The air vibrated intensely and a hostile atmosphere filled the room.

“True, once packs grow large, the standard is consulting with consorts to govern together. However! While packs are still small, everything is decided purely by the master’s discretion. Males who can’t show leadership have no value!!!”

At the loud voice that shook the atmosphere, yet the boy stared straight at Seiran without cowering in the slightest. And he quietly opened his mouth.

“I learned in class. Each pack has what’s called XX-type thinking. Mine is close to elite-type thinking, but slightly different. Shall we call it ultra-small elite-type thinking? I don’t intend to marry anyone besides Kuroyō.”

“Wha…”

At the unexpected response, Seiran inhaled sharply.

And apparently Princess Kuroyō felt the same, as she turned her face toward the boy with dissatisfaction. Kōran present at the scene similarly furrowed her brows. Only Ōka made an “oh boy” face.

The boy rudely patted the dissatisfied Princess Kuroyō’s head lightly.

“But that’s my thinking, not Kuroyō’s. She holds pack expansion-type thinking. As the academy director says, I alone can’t protect many. That’s precisely why we must consult together and decide.”

An impact like being punched in the head struck Seiran.

“This is beyond outrageous! That’s far too lacking in resourcefulness! True, dragonkin without power can only take one wife. But marrying a princess, that logic doesn’t apply!”

The room vibrated even more than before. Even at that hysterical scream, the male student’s expression didn’t change one bit. An attitude as if saying “say whatever you like.”

Princess Kuroyō, who’d maintained silence until then, opened her mouth.

“There’s a phrase ‘the right person in the right place.’ I’ll supplement the lacking parts. Isn’t that the resolve of a wife supporting her husband’s path of hegemony, Seiran-dono?”

“If the General Consort knew you intended to marry such a pathetic man, what would she think? Please reconsider once more.”

“Seiran-dono. This is Mother’s teaching. She’ll surely be pleased.”

Princess Kuroyō had been raised with imperial education drilled into her since childhood. That was guidance anticipating her attaining high position in the future. A consort’s mindset for supporting her husband’s path of hegemony.

—Devotion of serving and dedicating oneself to one’s husband is a wife’s virtue.

These were also words General Consort Rakuyō constantly spoke.

Seiran felt dizzy and looked up at the heavens.

‘(General Consort-sama. Your teachings have backfired.)’

Surely General Consort Rakuyō never dreamed her daughter would marry some unknown origin. But ironically, the more perfect those teachings, the stronger the consciousness of trying to support an imperfect husband worked.

‘(Don’t tell me strong opposition is counterproductive? I thought seeing the pathetic man’s reaction would change her mind.)’

The room remained filled with an oppressive atmosphere.

Seiran as one of the six consorts had tremendous intimidation, pressure enough to make even female teachers tremble. In fact, even her daughter Kōran had arms folded shallow trembling minutely. Right now in this place, only two people didn’t yield to Seiran’s pressure. The target boy and Princess Kuroyō alone.

Seeing the two lined up majestically like a married couple, Seiran found herself thinking they might suit each other. However, immediately regretting her own foolishness, she shook her head.

‘(It should have been a life of being scorned and ridiculed. Yet—no, precisely because of that, his nerve may have become this hardened.)’

Seiran intensely regretted her own softness in not expelling him back then. Though somewhat forceful, she now belatedly thought she should have expelled him on grounds of having no aptitude attribute. However, she couldn’t. All because,

“In the first place, you! How did you obtain His Majesty’s letter of recommendation!”

Before realizing it, she’d shouted as if venting irritation.

Understanding that now served no purpose. Meaningless talk, mere venting frustration on others. She’d thought he’d respond boldly and that would end it. But her expectation was betrayed.

“Huh? His Majesty’s letter of recommendation? What are you talking about?”

The boy questioned back with confusion.

Having no way out, Seiran had lost composure. So she returned by reflex without thinking deeply.

“The letter of recommendation from His Majesty that you brought. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

At Seiran’s prodding, the boy’s face that hadn’t wavered even slightly now showed turmoil for the first time.

“I don’t know. I certainly brought an introduction letter, but that was something my mother entrusted to me. She told me to hand it to an old friend and things would work out.”

The letter of recommendation had certainly borne the highest authority’s seal. Only His Majesty the Dragon Emperor could currently use that seal. Meaning, it was His Majesty the Dragon Emperor’s letter of recommendation.

Seiran felt irritated. Because she couldn’t think of a reason to hide it.

“Stop playing dumb. You understand there’s no point hiding it now. Unless you’re saying it was forged.”

The boy’s face went pale with a start. The forced smile vanished from his strained face.

But Seiran judged this an act.

A mere commoner couldn’t forge the highest authority’s seal. That had undoubtedly been genuine. Then the boy was lying. Utterly simple logic.

“I know you’re His Majesty’s favorite. Gaining such powerful backing must feel wonderful. What meaning is there in hiding that now? Normally making a fool of me, one of the six consorts, wouldn’t be forgiven.”

Eyes widened, the boy exchanged glances with Princess Kuroyō beside him. And at the Princess’s meaningful gaze, he shook his head brazenly saying “I don’t know.”

One big sigh. Seiran closed her eyes, organized her thoughts, and steeled her resolve.

“Very well. If you provoke me that far, I have my own ideas. Later, I’ll have you prove that ability.”