Chapter 6
The first day of the week. The first class: Understanding Ancient History.
But the atmosphere felt different from usual. Rakan, who normally kept his distance, was sitting right beside Elizia.
Just before class began, he had strolled into the lecture hall and taken the seat next to her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Naturally, everyone’s attention turned to them.
But Rakan looked completely at ease, while Elizia was the only one caught off guard.
Is he trying to put me in a difficult position because I’m the princess of an enemy nation?
As if to confirm her suspicion, Beth, sitting ahead, was glaring at her as though she were her father’s sworn enemy.
Pretending not to notice, Elizia turned her head slightly—and found herself looking at Rakan. As always, his expression was indifferent.
“—The pope of the early ancient empire held religious authority as a ruler, but, as a symbol of sanctity, did not participate in politics. However, as time passed…”
The professor was lecturing, but none of it reached Elizia.
The reason was obvious: Rakan.
Suppressing a sigh, she glanced at his hands.
His long, elegant fingers—both rough and delicate—held a slender metal pen gracefully.
And what he was drawing on the paper were doodles—circles, triangles, cloud shapes.
“……”
Elizia silently turned away.
His face and posture were completely serious, yet his hand was busy idly doodling.
She stole another glance at him, but his expression remained that of a diligent student.
…Just what is this man?
Her brows furrowed slightly.
She barely remembered how the class ended.
Slowly, Elizia packed her things, hoping that her senior, Rakan, would leave the classroom soon.
But instead, he finished packing and simply stood beside her, patiently waiting.
When she finally finished, he said matter-of-factly:
“Let’s go.”
Why is he like this? Just go already.
Was he planning to walk with her to the next class—swordsmanship?
Elizia turned to him with a faintly displeased expression.
“Are you asking me to go with you?”
“Is asking obvious questions your hobby?”
“And is answering a question with another question your specialty?”
“……”
“……”
Silence fell between them. After a moment, Rakan let out a faint, incredulous laugh.
“You’re my direct junior. I’ve decided to start taking proper care of you—even if it’s only now. So let’s go together.”
Only then did she get a proper answer.
But Elizia still looked unconvinced.
Now? After ignoring me for two weeks?
The complaint lingered on the tip of her tongue.
Swordsmanship class proceeded as usual.
Except for one thing—Rakan, who normally kept his distance, was practicing right beside her.
“Stop. Take a short break.”
At the instructor’s command, Elizia bent forward, wiping her sweat. Her ragged breathing escaped before she could hide it.
Someone approached her.
She didn’t even need to turn to know who it was.
Suppressing a sigh, she straightened. She didn’t want to look exhausted.
Turning her gaze, she saw Rakan, as expected. He looked perfectly fine—once again reminding her of his monstrous stamina.
He glanced at her calmly.
“Elizia. A sword is meant to cut. Not to clash head-on.”
“…Pardon?”
“You’re weaker than most men physically, so instead of meeting force with force, you should deflect as much as possible. Don’t take offense.”
“I’m not offended. Go on.”
“If you keep tensing your wrist like that and swinging upward, you won’t deflect anything—you’ll just damage your wrist.”
“Hmm.”
It was surprisingly detailed—and kind—advice.
Elizia looked down at her wrist with a thoughtful expression.
Relax her wrist?
As she tilted her head, trying to process his words, Rakan smirked faintly.
“Your fingers are already covered in blisters, and you’re still swinging recklessly. At this rate, you’ll only suffer later. Or is it a preference of enemy princesses to overwork their bodies?”
She glared at him.
He just can’t resist adding a jab at the end.
After finishing what he had to say, Rakan stepped back with his hands behind his back.
Elizia stared at her wrist again.
Come to think of it, it had been aching and tingling lately. She had dismissed it as fatigue from training—but maybe that wasn’t the case.
She raised her wooden sword and swung.
Her wrist was still stiff with tension.
Rakan shook his head as if he pitied her.
Why does that irritate me so much?
Biting her lip, Elizia slowly rotated her wrist, memorizing the sensation. Then she swung again—this time more fluidly, relaxing her wrist.
Only then did a faint smile touch Rakan’s lips.
But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.
“……”
Elizia stared at her sword, rubbing her wrist.
That fleeting smile lingered strangely in her chest.
Something felt ticklish—though she couldn’t quite place where.
Her heart felt oddly restless.
Must be the training…
Time passed quickly.
Elizia gradually adapted to life at the Royal Academy of the neutral kingdom of Swena.
Aside from ignoring Beth’s constant snide remarks, her days were enjoyable.
It was almost surprising how well she managed on her own, having grown up sheltered in the royal palace.
Humming softly, she quickened her steps toward a figure with golden hair in the distance.
In her hand was a small box of cookies—something Sophie had given her during lunch.
“I made these in a liberal arts class. They’re quite good, so please deliver a box to His Highness the Crown Prince. I left yours in your dorm room.”
With that, Sophie had left for another class.
Elizia had been left staring blankly at the box in her hands.
A crown prince? The empire’s prince? Why ask me, of all people, when I’ve never even met him?
Still, questioning it now wouldn’t change anything.
Maybe she wants me to build a connection… for the sake of peace between nations?
Muttering to herself, Elizia wandered through campus.
Then she spotted a blond man turning a corner near the philosophy building.
Could that be the crown prince?
She couldn’t see his face clearly, but something about him gave her that impression.
Clutching the box, she hurried after him.
Maybe she could introduce herself. It might be a good opportunity.
Just as she quickened her pace—
“Elizia.”
A familiar low voice called from behind.
Rakan.
She stopped and turned.
He approached slowly, the setting sun behind him.
“What brings you here? You don’t have any classes in this building, do you?”
He leaned slightly to meet her eye level.
Sunlight caught softly in his golden hair.
For a moment, Elizia found herself staring at his shining hair and long lashes—
Then snapped out of it.
She had been chasing the crown prince—but had completely forgotten because of Rakan.
By the time she looked back, the man was gone.
“He left…”
She muttered.
“Left? Who?”
“…Just someone.”
She turned away dismissively.
Rakan narrowed his eyes slightly, glancing between her face and the box in her hand.
Then he asked, his tone subtly serious:
“Who is that for? A man?”
“Yes, a man.”
“Someone you like?”
“…What?”
Why had the conversation suddenly gone in that direction?
Between keeping up with classes and everything else, she barely had time to exchange greetings—let alone develop feelings.
Besides, there was Damian.
“What nonsense.”
She shook her head lightly.
Rakan’s expression returned to its usual relaxed state.
They walked side by side.
He glanced at the box.
“What is that?”
“Cookies.”
“Cookies?”
“Yes. Cookies. For His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince.”
Rakan looked intrigued and took the box from her.
Elizia shot him a look—Why are you taking that?—but soon assumed he might deliver it for her.
“Did you make them?”
“As if. Sophie asked me to deliver them. She made them in a class.”
“I see.”
He casually tried to open the box.
Startled, Elizia slapped his hand.
“Senior! Why are you opening it?”
“…Am I not allowed?”
She shook her head.
‘Not allowed?’ These are meant for the crown prince!
Still, this was Rakan—hardly someone bound by common sense.
“Anyway, don’t open it. It’s rude.”
“….”
He stared at her as if he didn’t quite understand—but he closed the box anyway.
“Is that how things are in Ortigia…?”
He murmured.
As they walked, Elizia suddenly grew curious.
“What kind of person is the crown prince?”
Rakan looked slightly taken aback.
“That’s… a difficult question.”
“Is it? I’m just asking.”
“What do you think?”
She answered absentmindedly:
“I’ve heard he’s arrogant—but that’s expected of royalty. And popular…”
“And?”
“Personally, he’s not my type.”
“….”
“Still, he must have some hidden charm beyond his looks. I wouldn’t know yet. Ah, that’s just my preference—not criticism.”
“….”
They had reached the dormitory.
Elizia smiled brightly.
“Well then, I’ll head in. See you next time, senior!”
She turned without hesitation and walked away, her dress swaying.
“……”
Rakan stood silently, watching her retreating figure.
Above him, a lone pigeon flew peacefully across the evening sky.
