Chapter 4: 4

Finally, the unavoidable afternoon arrived. I could not concentrate on Professor Monahan’s heated lecture on Goblin’s reproductive organs, so I insisted that I need to go to the infirmary because I had eaten something bad for lunch. Professor Monahan tried to ignore me, thinking I was lying, but when I begged him earnestly saying that I felt like it was about to come out at any moment now, he finally let me leave.

It was a lie, of course. I wrote my name on the list given by the magic doll at the entrance to the infirmary, and lay on the first bed I saw. The bed that sensed my weight vibrated briefly and recorded my condition on the screen hanging on my left. According to it, there’s an 82.4 % chance that I was feigning illness and 17.6 % that I was depressed. A freaking intelligent bastard(machine).

I didn’t want to see the word feigning illness, so I turned to my right, and the person sitting on the bed over a distance, with a splint on his leg and clumsily bandaging it, looked up.

Oh, of all the people.

“Spencer, did you hurt your leg?”

Out of courtesy, I asked him. It’s because we were taking swordsmanship classes together.

“I broke it. I fell off the griffon.”

“You ride a dragon.”

“I don’t play cricket while riding dragons.”

Jayden Spencer replied sincerely with a blunt face. Spencer was a member of the Griffon Cricket Club like Kyle. Kyle didn’t have the fancy nickname of a dragon knight but he was no different from a gnome or an ogre anyway. 

It was fortunate that there was no sport called dragon cricket.

“Shouldn’t we call Professor Chapman?”

“I already cast a healing spell. If I put this on for about a day, it will recover.”

Spencer said, showing off a splint dangling miserably from a calf the size of my back. I squinted at it and eventually pulled the blanket up to my neck.

If I were Blossom, I would have smiled kindly and fixed it for him. But I was Ariel Dalton, not Rosemary Blossom and I didn’t know how to smile kindly or put a cast on a broken leg.

I opened my eyes when I suddenly felt a huge shadow cast over me.

“What?”

“If you’re sick, eat this, Dalton.”

A caramel the size of a fingernail was placed in front of my eyes. Feeling embarrassed for some reason, I pulled up the thick blanket and tried to block the screen with the words ‘82.4 percent chance of feigning illness’ on it from his view.

In any case, Spencer limped out of the infirmary. Taking caramel out of his pants’ pockets didn’t go terribly well with his rambunctious size.

***

Rumors about the new student who transferred out of nowhere caused a stir in the cafeteria. For a moment, I deluded myself that the transfer student was male, would have nothing to do with the student council, and that I was graduating safely.

“I saw her on the way here and she was incredibly pretty.”

And that delusion was shattered the moment Elizabeth McCarthy opened her mouth to accept a tray from her ardent lover, Brennan Stokes.

“My dear, eat a lot.”

“This is why I don’t eat with you guys.” I complained.

I pretended to vomit. Liz whispered to Brennan audibly. ‘She just broke up with her boyfriend, so she’s a bit sensitive.’

“They say she had dinner with the student council president. Since when did Illestia take care of transfer students like that? Did he just fall in love at first sight?”

“He takes care of everyone but cares for no one.”

Brennan said grimly. It was a surprisingly sharp point.

“As expected, it’s not an aristocrat.” Suddenly, someone at the other table chattered. It was clear that they were talking about Blossom just like us. 

Blossom stepped into the cafeteria, escorted by Illestia. A pair of a man and woman with blonde like honey-colored hair and shining silver hair were like a set of porcelain dolls that a princess would have when she was a child. Brennan’s dropped jaw was lifted by Liz with her spoon.

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When Blossom appeared, the students become  noisier than before. I didn’t realize that Illestia and Blossom sat near me as I gave all my focus on cutting the steak to shake off the depression that came from the thought that I was not going to graduate again this year.

“Thank you for the tour today. It was a really beautiful place.”

Blossom’s sonorous voice reached my ears. It was only then that I realized that we are very close.

Illestia smiled politely, the kind you would give to ants crawling around the plaza. It seemed that he was not fascinated by Blossom yet.

It was just a matter of time anyway. For the past five years, Illestia had not yet fallen in love with Blossom.

“Can I ask for your assistance tomorrow as well? It’s embarrassing, but I’m still confused about the location of the classroom.”

“I’ll send a pamphlet to your dormitory.”

It was a gentle refusal. As if she hadn’t expected such a reaction, Blossom seemed momentarily taken aback. However, she quickly regained her momentum and put on a coquettish expression.

“Is it really not possible?”

Asking again, Blossom raised her hand and tapped the air a couple of times. What is that? While I was immersed in the sense of incongruity I felt in that movement, Illestia’s attitude changed dramatically.

The corners of his perfect lips, which never rise above a certain angle, were slightly pulled up. His amber eyes sparkled brilliantly and his voice lowered by a halftone. Like Kyle the other time, as if a switch had been turned on, he became a man in love.

“I’m kidding. I’ll be in your room by nine o’clock tomorrow.”

It had a very seductive tone.

 ‘Is it really love at first sight?’ Liz slapped my forearm and made a fuss. I looked at Liz and Brennan, stroking my forearms in bewilderment. The two of them were completely acting normal that I was confused.

Did they not see Blossom knocking on the air just now when she did not even hide it? Did they not realized that Illestia’s change was so unnatural? No one?

Anyway, I couldn’t get any questions out of my mouth because I hit the damn fucking 4th wall. Suffering from the stabbing pain in my temple, I gnawed the steak instead of talking.

***

Among the fifty or so students gathered at the swordsmanship training ground, only a few were familiar to me. I was the only fifth-grade female student to take the swordsmanship class this semester. Among the boys, the only ones I could match names to their faces were Jaden Spencer and Marquis Bolton, who were so famous that everyone in the school knew them. I awkwardly started a warm-up exercise separated from the juniors gathered in groups of threes and fives. Looking at it this way, there was nothing wrong with Kyle’s words. I should have made some friends.

Only my childhood friend, Kyle, knew I was good at swordsmanship. I was at least not at the level of an ordinary aristocratic lady, but considered a quasi-knight in the Dalton estate. But the reason why I didn’t think of getting credits through swordsmanship until I became a senior is… It was a little embarrassing but it was because I wanted to change my image and date.

My parents always scolded me, saying that few men would fall in love with a gangster who always wears pants and wields a sword. But Kyle said that my being good at swords didn’t matter that much when it came to dating and that the reason why I don’t have a boyfriend was something else. I couldn’t find out what’s that something else but when I entered the academy  I put down my sword.

Then, to my surprise, the first boyfriend of my life magically came to me.

Fucking Adam Walsh. It was all thanks to that son of a bitch that I was able to throw away all my greed and return to being Dalton’s tomboy in fifth grade. That despicable bastard had a tiny heart for his size, and I was sure he would run away with his tail between his legs if he knew I had a knack for swords. I was consumed by rage that continued to burn like fire during the winter break when I fought to the death with Walsh, and finally put swordsmanship into my schedule during the course correction period. Anyway, our ending was a breakup.

Thinking of Walsh made my blood rush to my head. I swung my practice wooden sword roughly and hit the crotch of the practice dummy.

Milua’s dragon knight, Jaden Spencer, and Illestia’s paladin, Marquis Bolton, did not have to attend swordsmanship lessons. It was because their skills far exceeded Professor Moore’s. So the two played the role of an assistant rather than a student. If I had Spencer and Bolton under me, I would have used them in some way, and even give them volunteer scores. 

The two walked around the training ground and watched the students wield their swords. In the distance, Spencer could be seen helping a student correct her battling stance by touching her elbow. A light blush appeared on the chubby cheeks of the female student, who must have been in the third grade. It must be her happiest moment.

“Dalton, the dummy’s vitals are completely crushed. What have you done?”

It was surprising of him to talk suddenly to me. At a distance of two steps, Marquise Bolton, who wore fine-rimmed glasses and had his gray hair tied, snorted. It looked pathetic.

“I was practicing swinging my sword upwards.” 

“I think you’ve done enough upward swing… Rather, did you know how to use a sword?”

“To the extent where I won’t die anywhere.”

Bolton was quite tall and upright, so he would inadvertently look down at people. I don’t know, but this must have played a part in him being evaluated as a luckless guy in glasses.

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