My Beloved Princess ~The Boy Called Incompetent Rises with Only a Sword and the Princess's Devotion~ - Chapter 126: Running Here and There

Chapter 126: Running Here and There

“Mmm, clear blue skies. Perfect weather for basking in the sun.”

Perched on a wooden crate, Ōka looked up at the sky and said that in an utterly carefree tone.

In front of them stood a crude table knocked together from scrap wood, with price-tagged goods lined up across it. Resting his cheek on one hand, Kishō glanced sideways at his easygoing best friend with a bored look on his face.

“Well, I mean… I guess this is the hard part about business. It doesn’t all just sell in a flash and call it a day.”

The wheels of a carriage clattered across the stone pavement with an unpleasant squeal as it passed by. Ōka frowned at the cloud of dust it kicked up.

Street vendors with canopies lined the paved road, and Kishō and the others had opened their own stall among the bustle.

On the lively main street, there were not only dragonkin but also a scattering of merchants who had come from far away. Since morning, Kishō and the others had been hard at work selling to the sparse stream of shoppers who stopped by.

That said, Kishō was doing almost nothing. Customer service did not suit someone as unfriendly as he was, so Ōka, who was good at putting on a pleasant smile, had taken the lead in drawing customers over and making sales.

“Guess this is one of your talents too, Ōka. I’m even more hopeless at this than I thought…”

“There, there. Leave this to your big sis.”

The self-proclaimed big-sister type thumped her modest chest with a THUD.

The second day of the winter special practical training had already ended, and they were now into the third.

Alice and Tsukino were handling procurement. They sold in bulk to western merchants, while Kishō and Ōka were working through the leftover goods that did not sell.

“As expected of the daughter of a merchant who traveled the world. I didn’t think this would go so smoothly.”

“The whole idea of targeting western merchants just isn’t something we would’ve thought of. There are even people who say they’d never sell to humans.”

“Which means there isn’t much competition, right? Like having the hunting grounds all to yourself.”

“Yeah. Westerners are allowed to buy things, but they’re forbidden from doing business in this land. So by human standards, Alice-chan might be the only one here right now who can do business properly.”

In practice, it was Tsukino who was actually handling the buying and selling.

She looked swamped and exhausted, but she also looked deeply fulfilled.

“Looks like there are other ways to make money too, like cleaning the city or hauling cargo. But apparently it’s not enough to maintain a livelihood.”

“So living in a neutral city really is that hard, huh?”

“Dragonkin aren’t allowed to settle here. That naturally makes things much harder.”

Even so, their start had been smooth enough that they had already managed to build up a sizable amount of savings. If business kept taking off at this rate, they would probably stop needing to clear out leftovers like this.

Day and night alike, handcarts and wagons kept arriving in the city one after another to unload their cargo. And with that, yet another makeshift stall assembled on the spot appeared along the street.

“Do you have a moment?”

Suddenly, a shadow fell over him.

Sharp eyes glinted within a backlit silhouette. An earring in her left ear, in violation of school rules, caught the light. The tall figure folded her arms so as to emphasise her chest, then let out a sigh with a sullen expression that made no attempt to hide her irritation.

“Yo, Kōran. You’ve still got the kind of face that makes happiness run away barefoot.”

Her crimson eyes narrowed sharply, and she jerked her chin as if to say she had something to discuss. Pressured by that silent demand, Kishō got to his feet with a show of reluctant resignation.

“Sorry, Ōka. I’ve got something to talk about with Kōran. Mind watching things here?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Leaving the stall in Ōka’s care, he stepped into the crowd. Kōran fell into place right beside him.

Keeping his eyes fixed ahead, Kishō asked,

“Did the faction meeting end?”

“Yes. The dungeon-clearing operation starts the day after tomorrow.”

He had left all faction-related matters entirely to Kōran.

“I see… thanks for your hard work.”

“I know you’re busy, but it would be a problem if you never showed your face with the faction. Sōgetsu’s been making a fuss. He says Kishō-kun is someone they need for the dungeon operation.”

“Sorry, but I don’t have time to get caught up in dungeon clearing. Smooth it over somehow.”

“I don’t think Sōgetsu is going to give up.”

“That’s fine. More importantly, what about that thing I asked you to do?”

When he steered the conversation there, Kōran shrugged and let out a breath.

“I couldn’t get any especially promising information.”

The information-gathering from her faction members that he had asked for the previous night had come up empty, and Kishō let out a small sigh of his own. “I see,” he said, kicking away a pebble at his feet.

“No good on my end either. I went around asking city residents, traveling merchants, drifter adventurers, people like that, but nothing turned up. To begin with, hardly anyone even knows about the Curse of Sixteen.”

“Well, that’s only to be expected. The Curse of Sixteen is a rare illness. Very few people ever become directly involved with it, and that’s exactly why hardly any records of it remain. No wonder Onee-sama is struggling.”

If the Curse of Sixteen had been some widespread epidemic ravaging the world, people would surely have desperately searched for a solution. Research would have progressed, and far more materials and written records would have been left behind. But reality was not like that.

“Apparently it took three months just to gather the information they already have. Even Kuroyō had to search desperately just to uncover enough to grasp the broad outline. There’s no way this was ever going to be easy.”

“I agree. But you’re going to keep at it, right?”

“Yeah, of course. It doesn’t have to be an immediate solution. If I can find anything that serves as a hint, that’s enough. Sometimes an offhand bit of information turns out to be the thread that leads to the answer.”

Even if it was not information about the Curse of Sixteen itself, there might still be something useful. If there were similar curses, for example, then the methods for breaking them would naturally be similar as well. It might be possible to repurpose one of those methods.

Sometimes valuable information hides close at hand in altered form, without anyone recognising it for what it is.

“Gather information and examine it carefully. That’s all my job is. Simple, right?”

“Understood. I’ll change up the questions on my end and try again.”

After discussing their course going forward and making a full circuit of the main street, he parted ways with Kōran.

He did not go back to Ōka. From a distance, Kishō confirmed the sight of his best friend looking bored out of her mind while minding the stall, then disappeared into the crowd. Right now, every second counted.

◇◇◇◇◇

Along the city walls it stayed dim even in broad daylight because the sun never reached it, so to put it mildly, the location was terrible. But the rent on private houses was cheap. Out on the outskirts, it was cheaper still, and even renting an entire house could match the cost performance of a cheap inn in the city centre.

The cramped ten-tatami room was little better than a doghouse to Sōsetsu, who came from high nobility. Worse, that already oppressive space had three other female students packed into it besides him. They were the fellow members of the pack with whom he had pledged their future together.

After thoroughly checking over his equipment by the warmth of the fireplace, Sōsetsu quietly rose to his feet. Really, this grimy interior was intolerable.

When he twitched his nose, a pleasant smell reached him.

“Hmm. A spicy aroma. Is it diablo soup tonight?”

Because the neutral city also received human merchants, poisonous seasonings were not sold here. Which meant flavouring naturally had to rely on ordinary spices instead. Judging by the smell, tonight’s meal seemed to be a stew made with a chilli pepper called dragon breath. The thick red soup, as viscous as lava, was devilishly delicious, and one of Sōsetsu’s favourites.

From the kitchen came the cheerful voices of the women he loved.

Sōsetsu had been feeling tense and irritable, crammed into such a gloomy house, but the smell sharp enough to sting the eyes lifted his spirits, and he decided to go fetch firewood for the hearth. The firewood was stacked in the backyard.

In the past, he would have made Tsukino do a chore like that, but there was no helping it. That woman’s ownership no longer belonged to him.

Just as he reached for the front door, the bell installed there rang.

Apparently they had a visitor at exactly that moment.

With the dungeon operation only two days away, Sōsetsu assumed it was a messenger from his elder brother and opened the door without particular caution. Standing there, just as he had expected, was a female student from the Upper House, but she was not his brother’s messenger.

He recognised at once that she was a girl from his own year.

But he could not remember her name. She was beautiful, but looked like the proud sort of woman. He definitely recognised the twin-tail hairstyle, though.

“It’s been a while, Sōsetsu-san. We haven’t had many chances to see each other at the academy.”

“Oh? You speak as though we’ve known each other for some time before that…”

He did remember her face after all. They had met before. And if they had known each other even before entering the academy, then it must have been through noble social circles.

“Ah, right. You’re the daughter of Dragon King Yūgen-dono, weren’t you?”

At the same time, Sōsetsu remembered the story that had gone around about how, despite being a Dragon King’s daughter, she had not been blessed with talent. She had once been assigned to the Lower House, but had forced her way into the Upper House by using her father’s influence, or so the dishonourable rumour said.

“Yes, that’s right. Since we’re both direct descendants of Dragon Kings, I thought it might be good if we deepened our ties.”

“Sorry, but I already have wives with whom I’ve pledged our future together. Three at this academy. Three more attending other academies. The six consort seats are already filled.”

Among the dragonkin, there was no hereditary succession.

Power was everything, and those with talent took the seats of consorts.

If she were willing to settle for a status other than consort, there might be room to consider it, but there was no way the daughter of a Dragon King would accept treatment like that. A clear refusal was better for both of them.

However, without taking that rejection to heart, Yotsuba said,

“I’m not here to ask you to make me your wife. I brought you an interesting proposition today.”

“An interesting proposition?”

Sōsetsu frowned.

An evil smile rose to Yotsuba’s face.

“Don’t you want revenge? On that man who humiliated you so thoroughly.”

The numb feeling returned to both his hands.

He still had not forgotten the humiliation he had suffered in front of the women he loved.

Peering into Sōsetsu’s downcast face as he remained silent, Yotsuba leaned close and whispered in his ear.

“I’ve got a perfect plan. Work with me.”

◇◇◇◇◇

Within the darkness, a faint phosphorescence glimmered.

The weak pale green light flickered as though tracing the edges of the brickwork.

Closing the ill-fitting door behind him, Kishō stepped into the corridor, and the floorboards creaked beneath his feet.

The moss spread over the bricks served as the light source, making candlelight unnecessary. Kishō stifled a yawn and headed for the privy.

On the way there.

Through the corridor’s narrow window, a little moonlight spilled in.

Standing where that moonlight reached was a lone girl.

Her hand rested on the window frame as she silently gazed up at the night sky. There was something lonely about that gaze, something fleeting enough to leave that impression on Kishō. She wore a white nightgown. A dragonkin.

She looked about his age. Her straight hair down her back was a little shorter than Princess-sama’s. Translucently pale skin, and orange eyes reflecting the moonlight. She was breathtakingly beautiful. On a level that could stand beside Princess-sama. Had there been a girl this beautiful among his classmates?

Perhaps sensing someone’s presence, the girl slowly turned around.

Their eyes met. He really did not know that face.

Kishō gave a small bow and tried to walk past her.

“Hold it right there.”

Called to a stop from behind, he turned back. The beautiful girl stood there with her arms folded, glaring down at him. Had he done something to make her angry?

“Uh… do you need something?”

“Honestly, this little brat never changes. Addressing a teacher so casually is disgraceful.”

The girl twisted her face in genuine displeasure and shot back the merciless insult. There was something familiar about that sarcastic tone. Her voice rang a bell as well.

But the information in his head would not connect properly to what could possibly be happening right in front of him.

Mouth hanging open, Kishō stared at the girl’s face once more.

“No way… Meika-sensei?”

“Hah? What are you talking about at this point?”

No matter how he compared them, the Meika in his memory and the girl standing before him just would not line up. And yet, once he looked closely enough, there really were traces of Meika-sensei in her features.

The girl answered Kishō’s “no way” as though it were only obvious, and only then was he finally convinced.

“Don’t tell me that heavy makeup was to hide your baby face!?”

He could hardly say that he had assumed it was there to hide wrinkles.

But with that thick armour stripped away, Meika’s bare face was smooth and glossy, without a single wrinkle to be seen. If someone had told him she was a fifteen-year-old girl, Kishō would have believed it.

Looking at the dumbstruck Kishō with half-lidded eyes, Meika gave a small snort.

“I can’t very well have my students looking down on me. If the day came when they started calling me Meika-chan… no, never mind.”

Had someone actually called her that before?

Kishō imagined a baby-faced teacher, outwardly fifteen, standing at the podium.

“Yeah, that’d definitely be unsettling. Though Fūga-sensei stands out in her own way too.”

“Would you stop lumping me together with some little girl like that?”

She was oddly cutting toward a coworker.

That said, the Upper House teachers were all about the same sort anyway, so he did not bother to point it out now.

“So why is Meika-sensei here?”

“That’s my line. Was it a mistake to leave the inn arrangements to that little girl?”

On Instructor Fūga’s introduction, Kishō and the others had chosen to stay at this inn. If Meika had come by the same connection, then yes, this encounter made sense.

“You’re a teacher. Shouldn’t you be staying somewhere a little nicer?”

“I can’t very well do that in front of the students. Budget is a concern too.”

“The world sure is harsh.”

“Reality is like that.”

Perhaps because it was before bed, the trademark vertical drill curls had been let down, falling straight to her shoulders. The casual gesture with which she brushed those ends aside struck him as oddly fresh.

At night, did she switch from teacher mode to Meika-chan mode? Even her usual overbearing aura had gone quiet. Looking at her calmly, Kishō realised he was actually taller than she was. Without that pressure, Meika looked small.

“Sensei. If you were gathering information in Ashitana, where would you go?”

“Hah? What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

Meika let out an exasperated sigh.

That reaction was only natural, really. Kishō and Meika got along like cat and dog. If they passed each other in the hallway, they would trade sarcastic barbs. They definitely did not have a proper teacher-student relationship.

And then he suddenly called her sensei. Of course Meika was suspicious.

Looking closely up at Kishō’s wry smile, Meika said,

“The Adventurers’ Guild, probably.”

“Huh?”

“I said the Adventurers’ Guild. It’s a human organisation, so I don’t know the details myself. But I hear its members are multinational, and their job is to adventure all over the world, is it not? If so, wouldn’t they be more familiar with the state of the world than us dragonkin?”

It surprised Kishō that Meika, a dragonkin, even knew about a human-world organisation. But what surprised him even more was that it was perfectly sound advice.

“I did talk to a few adventurers around the city, though.”

“Information naturally gathers where people gather. To ask one or two people and think you’ve understood enough is arrogance, and foolish besides.”

“Can’t argue with that. Understood. Thanks for the advice.”

He bowed his head honestly and thanked her. Meika awkwardly refolded her arms.

“If you can’t use Breath or sorcery, then to prove your ability, you need an objective measure. This winter special practical training should serve as one such measure. Do try your best.”

“Oh? Are you worried about me? That’s not very like you, Meika-sensei.”

“If you perform well, it benefits me too. That’s all there is to it.”

By the time he had defeated Unran, his ability had already been proven, and Meika should have known that. Guessing that this was her own way of hiding her embarrassment, Kishō grinned.

“Well then, I’ll be off. Good night, Meika-chan.”

The beautiful girl who approached him with a smile put him in a headlock.