Chapter : 08
6. This Is Now Class Assignment (1)
“I’ve shown many embarrassing sides of myself, but I am not a lady without manners.”
No, the real problem was that this man was a duke—and a pushover at that!
‘I hope he’s not going around getting scammed everywhere…’
Come to think of it, even at the royal banquet when they first met, he endured every insult imaginable without saying a word…
That day, unable to tolerate it any longer, she smashed her champagne glass, shattering the atmosphere.
Thanks to that, Lucien, who had taken all the verbal abuse meant for the Duke of Rosanacht, remembered that day vividly.
“Dean Aten is such an unscrupulous employer…”
Chester shook his head gently at her sympathetic gaze.
“Don’t worry. He is not the type to break promises.”
“That’s exactly the problem…! He’ll probably just clap a few times, feel encouraged by someone as amazing as himself, and say, ‘I helped, I kept my promise,’ and that’s it.”
“…”
Chester closed his mouth tightly, as if he hadn’t considered that.
His straight-lined lips gave off the same cool, composed impression as usual, but to Lucien, they looked sulky.
In her eyes, he was like an innocent lamb, ready to be chewed and bitten, in a political and social world full of raccoons, sly foxes, and venomous snakes.
‘What good is fighting skill if you’re just a lamb?’
“You should definitely have a lawyer or an assistant with you next time. I’m worried the Duke might suffer losses because he’s too… kind.”
Lucien almost called him a pushover but quickly changed her words, watching his reaction.
Chester simply raised a hand to adjust his mouth, silently. It looked like he was pressing his lips down.
Through this, Lucien noticed a ring on his black-gloved hand—a signet ring granting him the authority of a duke.
Lucien took a deep breath, calming herself after briefly getting worked up over the unfair situation.
The man in front of her could easily tear apart any unjust labor contract with the dean.
“I’m sorry for meddling too much.”
Though they weren’t particularly close, she felt strangely relaxed around him. His expression was intimidating, yet his manners were extremely polite and gentle.
Chester, watching her, felt a strange sensation. He couldn’t quite explain it, but it reminded him of the discomfort he felt when hearing about a ‘small mistake.’
“Was this also a mistake?”
“Huh?”
Lucien asked in confusion, but he didn’t answer.
Why did he look like that again? Was he annoyed that she, a mere daughter of a viscount, had dared interfere as a colleague?
‘Or could he have realized I almost called him a pushover earlier?’
Lucien bit her tongue again, muttering to herself.
After a brief silence, Chester, seemingly deep in thought, spoke.
“You asked for proper forms of address at Noctua earlier.”
“Ah, um… I was rambling. Please just call me comfortably.”
Lucien put on her parent-service smile.
Trained by the harsh realities of society far beyond the social scene, it was a genuinely kind and warm smile.
Yet Chester felt an inexplicable urge to break that smile.
“Then I may call you Lucien. You said to call you comfortably.”
“…”
Yes… she did say to call her comfortably.
‘But is this really okay?’
Flustered, she opened and closed her lips uncertainly.
Chester’s expression returned to its usual calm demeanor.
“Lucien.”
“Yes?”
Yet he didn’t say anything further. He seemed to be silently rolling the syllable in his mouth a few times, making her curious.
‘Is this the first time he’s called someone’s name?’
Sensing her gaze, Chester awkwardly changed the topic.
“You’re going to show me the location for the practical class, right?”
“Yes! Shall we see it now?”
Lucien brightened. The topic shift was sudden but far more welcome.
“The practice hall has been expanded, but the classroom should be as you remember it.”
Guiding him with a lighter heart, Lucien received his calm response.
“I don’t have many memories of the academy. I dropped out along the way.”
‘Control your expression, Lucien.’
For a fleeting second or two, Lucien’s mind raced. Timing was key—neither too early nor too late. Don’t let your voice waver. If you seem awkward, it’s over…!
“I see. Then it would be good for you to take a look around thoroughly this time.”
“…It may take quite a bit of your time.”
“I don’t mind being late to a meeting.”
Chester nodded slightly, as if sensing no oddity. Her nonchalant words carried neither suspicion nor doubt.
In these days, it was rare for a high-ranking noble or royalty to enroll in the academy and then drop out, especially in a social scene where graduation scores served as a measure of excellence.
Yet Lucien, the teacher, treated it as if it were no big deal, as though the matter were trivial.
“Then I’ll leave it to you, Lucien.”
…Smoothly handled, wasn’t it?
Lucien pretended to brush her hair back, secretly wiping the sweat from her neck.
Dean Aten clearly lacked empathy. How could he put someone who didn’t even graduate at the academy in charge of teaching children?
‘I hope I didn’t touch any bad memories…’
She forced herself to remain composed, showing no sign of her racing thoughts.
It was, in a way, a deeply considerate gesture.
Yet exactly an hour later, Lucien realized she had no time to worry about anyone else.
No one blamed Lucien Filonia, the youngest, for being the latest to join the new semester meeting.
Late? People can be late.
Absent? That’s understandable for some reason.
Just don’t quit.
No one else could fill her position if she left.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“It’s fine. It was the dean’s instruction anyway.”
Radehols quietly observed the junior teacher who had come in smiling, unaware of the difficulties that awaited her.
Though he often lamented the lack of passion, effort, and responsibility among young people these days, he felt differently about Lucien Filonia.
Anyone at Noctua would sympathize with her, given her unfortunate lot of handling a class that seemed to shorten one’s lifespan for years.
Some even said she was treated differently because she was specially recruited.
To Radehols, it was partly luck, partly something Lucien Filonia had brought on herself.
‘And her health is so poor. Tsk tsk…’
“Lucien, here you go. This is the first-year Class A you’ll be teaching this year.”
“The classroom is on the third floor, central section of the South Isilla building… Wait, why am I… in this classroom again?”
Lucien’s eyes widened. She looked around for someone to confirm that her ominous feeling was wrong.
Yet neither Radehols nor the other teachers met her gaze.
“Um… I really am using the Isilla building again…?”
“…That’s how it is.”
Even in a school like Noctua, which had rules that prevented graduation for foolish nobles, they couldn’t completely ignore royal influence.
When a royal enrolled, they were ceremoniously assigned the best dorm or classroom.
It was subtle enough that no one could really claim discrimination but enough for the academy to say, “We are treating them well.”
So, the fact that Lucien had been assigned the best classroom in the advanced department again meant…
A royal, or someone equivalent, was again in her class.
“…Stay calm.* Other royals likely don’t match in age; probably just a branch of the grand duke’s family.”
Trying to comfort herself, Lucien steeled herself and pulled out the roster from the envelope.
But her resolve quickly crumbled.
“…What is this?”
She rubbed her eyes repeatedly, unwilling to believe reality.
A princess, the Münster ducal family, the Arce ducal family… a successor sent from the Mage Tower? And a saint candidate from the temple? Are you kidding me?! Who assigned this class?!
If a sane person had done the assignment, it couldn’t have turned out like this!
“Who… who did… how…?”
The names listed were all heavyweights, and her head spun.
Lucien’s trembling hands crumpled the cursed sheet of paper.
‘…Is this a dream?’
It had to be.
‘It’s a dream…!’
As she raised her hand to slap her own cheek, a fellow teacher quickly grabbed it.
“Calm down, teacher!”
“Who assigned this class this year? Who did this…?”
The colleague who dodged her piercing gaze hesitated before quietly revealing:
“Th-the dean… assigned the classes this year.”
