Chapter : 48
25. Doesn’t the Father Bear Some Responsibility? (2)
“Things like that are weaknesses everyone has. It’s not as though Klein exposed it because he’s lacking.”
“Even if everyone has weaknesses, it must never become a weakness in Münster.”
And you’re the one who went around advertising it as a weakness in the first place!
Lucien tightly shut her mouth to keep herself from crossing a line she couldn’t return from.
The Duke of Münster frowned as he looked at her stubbornly pressed lips and eyes that showed not the slightest retreat.
So you’re saying this is partly my fault, then.
How impertinent.
“Regardless of what you think you know about Klein, I know him better. He will take responsibility for his share.”
Lucien realized that continuing this conversation with such an arrogant man would lead nowhere.
“My apologies. I understand the guardian’s position. I will inform them that you will not be attending Noctua.”
She was quick to give up on things that simply wouldn’t work.
When Lucien obediently lowered her head, even the Duke of Münster found himself with nothing more to say, no matter how much he might have wanted to.
She gathered the documents she had brought and stood up.
She could feel her stamina completely drained from talking to a wall. It felt like she had exhausted herself for absolutely nothing.
“Your Grace, may I say just one last thing?”
“You didn’t ask for permission earlier either.”
His tone was openly sarcastic now.
Instead of getting angry, Lucien spoke with a faint bitterness.
“Klein initially refused to give a statement. He changed his mind only after realizing that he could be expelled.”
“Then it was the correct decision.”
“Yes. And I believe both of those decisions were made to protect someone else’s honor.”
Lucien bowed with the same flawless etiquette as when she had entered, then left the reception room.
Despite the smooth, flowing grace of her movements, there was a subtle pause between the moment she grasped the doorknob and when she pushed the door open.
As if she were announcing that she was about to open it.
* * *
The Duke of Münster ultimately did not attend, and Lucien submitted both the eyewitness accounts from students and Klein’s statement.
During the process, she also uncovered evidence that three students had been continuously spreading malicious rumors about Klein.
If every instance of students gossiping were punished, there would be no end to it—but the severity and malice in this case made it a problem.
That said, Klein Münster was unharmed, while the three students each suffered injuries—broken bones or severe bruises in one or two places.
In the end, both sides were disciplined, though Klein’s punishment was the heavier one.
At least, that was how it was handled within Noctua Academy, which prided itself on fairness regardless of status.
“The Duke of Münster isn’t the type to protect Klein, but he’s also not the type to forgive those kids either.”
Estelle smirked, clearly satisfied.
Lucien heard in great detail just how far the Duke’s “I’ll handle my business, you handle yours” private retribution had gone.
He tells the kid to take responsibility, but he sure vented his own anger thoroughly.
“Teacher, did you meet the Duke of Münster in person?”
“I did.”
“What was he like? He used to be famous as the top marriage candidate, you know. Even now, plenty of people want to become his second wife.”
“He was the illustrious Duke of Münster, working tirelessly for the Empire’s economy as a close aide to His Most Noble and Dignified Majesty the Emperor.”
Lucien answered smoothly, as if reciting a memorized model response without even pretending to think.
Seeing her expression remain completely unchanged, Estelle giggled.
“I really like you, Teacher.”
Lucien also smiled faintly at the student who expressed affection in the most unexpected ways.
It wasn’t unpleasant—after all, she was likely the highest-ranking student not just in her class, but in the entire academy.
“So what kind of volunteer work is Klein doing?”
Noel, who had been freed from his punishment of community service without magic, asked with interest.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“He glares at me like he’s cursing me with his eyes every time he sees me.”
“Wouldn’t he? Think about what you did from day one.”
Estelle replied for her, organizing the notes she planned to pass on to Klein, who was currently suspended.
With all this chaos happening right in the middle of exam season, Klein had practically lost his midterm grades, and would need to do well on the final exams just to salvage the semester.
“Your Highness, are you two dating?”
“Want to die?”
“What kind of language is that coming from a princess—”
Noel recoiled in disgust and took a step back.
Lucien, who had been busy preparing lessons, paused and silently agreed.
Her mouth is getting rougher by the day—no, it’s like a seal has been broken.
There was no rule saying a princess had to speak politely, but Estelle often used expressions that were utterly incomprehensible.
They clearly sounded like curses, yet were made up of words Lucien had never heard in her life.
“So, why are both of you loitering in my classroom?”
Lucien looked up.
She had practically lost the entire midterm grading period dealing with Klein’s case, and the deadline was now right in front of her.
Work was piled up like a mountain.
“I came to see you, of course. And to pass along news from the Münster side.”
Estelle answered confidently.
“Unlike that useless one who came for no reason.”
Noel, who had been labeled useless without warning, narrowed his eyes before breaking into a grin.
“I came because I have something to discuss with the teacher—secretly.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What secret could you possibly have with the teacher? Did you smash the headmaster’s office again this time?”
“Her Highness will never know. It’s a secret that only Teacher Lucien taught me personally.”
Estelle took the bait instantly, springing to her feet.
“Why are you calling the teacher by her—”
But before her pointing finger could properly reach its target, the classroom door flew open.
No—it tried to. It didn’t open.
Ah. Right.
Lucien released the magic.
On a day without lectures, the only people who would bother coming to this place—true to its name as the Barrier Studies classroom—were these troublesome assigned students.
“Teacher Lucien Filonia? You’re requested in the conference room for a moment.”
Or it was an urgent summons.
“I didn’t do anything this time.”
Noel, burdened by too much karmic history, hurriedly declared his innocence.
* * *
When Lucien arrived at the conference room, Radeholtz and another teacher were already seated inside.
The air felt heavy.
Radeholtz gestured for her to sit.
“Teacher Lucien, please come in. This is Teacher Ratt, who is in charge of poetry and literature. Teacher Ratt, this is Teacher Lucien, the homeroom teacher of the two students involved.”
Lucien exchanged greetings with the unfamiliar teacher, who wore a serious expression, and then sat down uneasily.
Two students? Who caused trouble this time?
She mentally reviewed the students in her class who were taking poetry and literature.
Since most nobles took it as a refinement course, there were far too many suspects.
“Sorry to trouble you when you’re busy. Before calling the students in, we wanted to hear your opinion first.”
“What seems to be the problem?”
“First, please take a look at this. These are answer sheets submitted by two students from your class in yesterday’s midterm.”
A creeping sense of dread ran up Lucien’s spine.
She received two papers—one written in a neat, elegant hand that could be used as a handwriting sample, and another filled with small, carefully pressed, orderly letters.
Recognizing both just from the handwriting, her hand trembled slightly.
“These look like Cordelia Arce’s and Beatrice’s answer sheets.”
“Exactly. Would you read through them?”
Did they write some kind of nonsense?
There were plenty of students who filled unknown answers with rambling nonsense or heartfelt pleas begging for partial credit.
But this wasn’t anything so harmless.
“…They’re identical?”
Lucien reread both sheets several times, but the contents stubbornly remained exactly the same.
