Chapter 16
Clatter.
The servant who was replacing Tessarion’s plate and spoon shot me a glare. It jolted me back to my senses. I’d been so immersed in the romance novel that I had been blindly accepting whatever Tessarion fed me.
Tessarion’s soup bowl was spotless, but mine sat untouched, cold. The servant switched out my unused utensils and removed the soup without a word. I sat there stiff, biting the inside of my cheek.
“Duke… did I… did I just eat from your spoon?”
“Hm?”
“The spoon that went into your mouth… went into mine, too?”
“So what? You’re not dead. What’s the problem?”
Tessarion brushed off what was clearly an indirect kiss like it was nothing.
What the hell…?!
A wave of disgust swept over me. I scrubbed my lips with the back of my hand and grabbed my water glass. Tessarion flinched and reached out, but I swished the water in my mouth furiously, then spat it out and wiped my mouth with a napkin. He clicked his tongue, visibly baffled.
“So, uh, where were we in the story?”
I avoided his gaze and skimmed the book. My mouth still felt gross, my throat dry, and my face was burning.
I knew it was incredibly rude to openly wipe my mouth and rinse like that in front of someone who clearly didn’t think twice about sharing a spoon. It must’ve been offensive. Maybe even insulting.
But still, I’d unknowingly received an indirect kiss, and that grossed me out way more!
Tessarion pointed at a section of the book.
“We were at the part where the injured Clovence fell into the sea.”
Oh! So he had been listening!
The main course arrived, and the sound of forks and knives scraping plates echoed through the dining room. Still flustered, I stumbled over the words as I resumed reading.
Tessarion viciously hacked apart the roast chicken and grilled vegetables with his knife. After chewing a mouthful of the mangled meat, he casually raised a forkful to my lips.
I paused mid-sentence and clamped my mouth shut.
“Eat.”
“……”
“It’s not poisoned.”
“……”
Lack of appetite was the least of it—I just felt weird. My hands were mostly healed now. Why was he feeding me himself? Tessarion isn’t the type to be nice to others… Well, I mean, he was being nice, so I guess that’s… good?
“I’ll eat by myself from now on.”
I closed the book and picked up my fork and knife.
Just as I was taking a deep breath, trying to swallow the uncomfortable thoughts circling in my head, Tessarion lowered his fork and pinched the corner of my eye.
“Eyelash.”
“Ah.”
D-Did something go in? But why would he pick it off for me…?
Change the subject. Fast!
“Duke, um, isn’t this book interesting?”
“Not at all.”
He responded flatly, swapping his plate with mine.
“The historical accuracy is a mess. What kind of idiot fights a naval battle in a raging storm at night? An arrow fired from land hitting an undocked ship? During bad weather? At night? …Tch.”
“Maybe the author just wanted a dramatic and passionate effect?”
“Still nonsense. It’s annoying.”
Absolutely hopeless.
I stared down at the pitiful remains of my chicken, chewing on my lip.
“But your acting wasn’t boring.”
He let out a faint chuckle.
“Especially the part where you played Lorelline. That was memorable.”
“Oh…”
“You did well. Good projection, too.”
“Th-Thank you…”
Ugh, damn it.
All I’d done was put on a little show for a cold-blooded war demon. It wasn’t satisfying, didn’t restore my appetite, and drained me.
Tessarion rested his head on one hand, staring at me picking at the fancy meal, then suddenly asked:
“So why the sudden change to romance novels and poetry? Yesterday you had magic texts.”
I stopped mid-bite and met his eyes.
Because of you.
Because I wanted you to be even a little kinder to the heroine…
“You said you’d read whatever book I chose. Magic texts are boring, so I picked something more popular. Since the opera adaptation was a hit, I thought Her Highness might know about it too.”
I picked it hoping we’d have a normal conversation like today.
Tessarion snorted, then shoved the book beside me away.
“What does it matter if the Princess read Lorelline on the Hill or watched the opera with someone? It’s a formulaic, pretentious, historically inaccurate romance. You’d be better off reading magic texts.”
There went my hopeful plan for a happy ending, crushed underfoot.
“If Mrs. Mores saw you chasing central society trends, she’d be appalled. Return it before your lesson.”
He ruthlessly bashed the literary classic, Lorelline on the Hill. But honestly? I really enjoyed it. Way more than I Thought This Was Just Another Possession Novel…
I could almost imagine the grand opera house, the powerful orchestra, the sparkling magical stage effects, and the Empire’s finest singers bringing it to life.
I said nothing and just ate quietly. I even finished before Tessarion. After turning away dessert and tea, he strode straight toward the library.
This damn male lead of a romance fantasy now wanted to pick out the books for my marriage training.
With a deep sigh, I returned Lorelline on the Hill—only half-finished—and A Glorious Newlywed Life, which I hadn’t even opened.
Tessarion wandered near the politics and diplomacy section, where books hadn’t yet been sorted, rummaging through this and that.
I glanced at him discreetly, then quietly pulled Altair’s letter from my pocket.
To the one attempting to sail toward an unknown star:
If you’re stuck calculating navigational coordinates and picked up this book for help, it’s better to apply the following formula using Principles of Dynamics, Volume III, Equation 20 by Professor Armos of the First Tower’s Mathematics Department.
…(excerpt omitted)…
Thus, using the World Tree as the origin point, the navigational coordinates for the front gate of Malleta Royal Academy are (300, 9092.41, -12.20193), and the bench behind the message board at the rear gate of Claremont Castle is (982, -209.114208, 12728).
May your voyage always be smooth.
“What the…?”
Seeing the four pages packed front and back with equations, graphs, and examples made my head pound.
I was confused. Did Altair really write this?
There was no sender, no recipient listed. The confident handwriting and solution method felt like Altair, but there were places where formulas had been crossed out with ink, and the paper was wrinkled as if written on an uneven surface. Some spots even had dirt stains.
Who could it be?
Altair should be off somewhere humbling the proud professors of Malleta Royal Academy and the elders of three Magic Towers.
Could someone who previously had zero interest in space-time magic have hidden a letter inside Claremont Castle’s astronomy book collection?
But then… who else in the castle would leave such a letter? And one that explained the exact space-time coordinate formula I had been struggling with?
An eerie sense of dissonance made my limbs go cold, my heart pounding with anxiety.
“What day is it…?”
I murmured blankly, heading for the library entrance. The message board maintained by the Imperial Magic Ministry displayed global news along with date, time, and weather updates. The characters flickered and shifted constantly as the news changed in real time.
Sponsored by: Royal 3rd Magic Tower, Department of Practical Magic
Valletinum Year 512, Month of Sige, Day 10
Fresh updates, Week 2 of Sige Month!
—Crown Prince Heliote: “Opposed to political marriage with Claremont Dukedom. We must end loveless aristocratic unions.”
—Western region wildfire cause under suspicion of demonic beasts! Refugees furious over slow government response and lack of temple aid.
—Tensions rise on the northern front. King Carl Motsensar refuses ceasefire.
—500th entrance ceremony of Malleta Royal Academy. Interview with top student Zennia Raintree: “Studied 16 hours a day, focusing only on textbooks.”
“Whaaa?! Zennia Raintree? That annoying stick figure is the top student?!”
I clung to the board and shouted.
Top student… Top student…
My voice echoed. The librarians slowly moving books all turned toward me and murmured among themselves.
This can’t be happening.
Where did the genius 10-circle mage of the century go, and how did someone else take first place?!
