CICN 70

Chapter 70

“Professor! Hello!”

As Clois entered the room, Ibi jumped up from her seat and ran toward him.

It was the first time she’d seen Professor Cyan since the seasonal festival.

Honestly, I thought he might not come today…

The reply from Headmaster Seraphina had said that Professor Cyan might stop by his office sometime this evening.

But Seraphina had also warned that since he was so busy, he might return late, so she told Ibi not to wait too long.

Even so, Ibi had intended to wait until curfew.

Peering closely at his face, Ibi asked in a worried voice,

“Professor, are you tired?”

“Hm? Why do you think that?”

“Here—your dark circles are really bad. And your eyes are all bloodshot. Plus, they’re narrowed like this.”

At her words, he looked at her in surprise.

He was used to hiding his fatigue in front of others.

He had no choice but to.

After his coronation, he had spent a long time keeping ministers and nobles under the weight of fear.

It had been necessary—if he hadn’t, rebellion could have broken out at any time.

So he never revealed weakness before anyone.

It was something he had been trained in since childhood, and apart from those very few who were extremely close to him, no one ever noticed his state.

And yet, a seven-year-old child had seen through him at once.

Was I too relaxed just now? Or is her perception that sharp?

Clois gave a wry smile and diverted the conversation.

“Have you been well? I’m sorry I left without greeting you after the festival—you fell asleep so deeply.”

“It’s fine!”

Ibi hopped in protest, as if the apology were unnecessary. The mention of the seasonal festival reminded her of the gifts she had received.

I should have said they were too many, that I couldn’t accept them all. But…

They were all so pretty.

The hairpins, the ribbons, even the toys—every single one was something she wanted.

And above all, they had been given by Professor Cyan.

“Thank you for the presents. I’ll use them all well.”

“…I see.”

He had expected her to refuse, as she often did. But instead, she said thank you. His heart eased—and swelled with pride. It meant his choices had truly been things she liked.

He gestured for Ibi to sit, then glanced over the foreign language book she had been studying.

“So, which part was difficult?”

He checked his watch. There wasn’t much time before she had to return to the dormitory for curfew.

Before then, he intended to help her as much as possible with the parts she found hard.

That way, if she struggled again, she would come back to find him.

The bell rang faintly in the distance. Clois checked his watch.

“Oh dear, time to get up. You have to go back to the dormitory.”

“Yes…”

Reluctantly, Ibi began to pack her books.

“I don’t know if I was much help.”

“You helped a lot! You explained all the things I didn’t know.”

“But my explanations were a little difficult, weren’t they?”

“Hehe…”

Unable to deny it, she laughed awkwardly. Seeing her expression, Clois made up his mind.

Starting tonight, he would shave time off his sleep to prepare, so he could teach her properly—as a true professor of foreign languages.

Not to put on a convincing act as a teacher.

But because he genuinely enjoyed teaching Ibi.

If he taught her one thing, she would quickly grasp two or three more.

What had been entirely unknown to her moments ago, she now understood, expanding her world with startling speed.

Like a dry cloth soaking up water, she absorbed new knowledge and soon stood shoulder to shoulder with those who had learned it earlier.

Watching such rapid growth, Clois felt a sense of wonder.

I never imagined something could be this enjoyable.

When Seraphina had told him about Professor Malles’s enthusiasm, he had dismissed it as an old man’s fuss. Now, he could no longer laugh at him.

At this rate, he himself might outdo Malles in doting.

He wanted to give this curious child everything she desired in abundance, and watch how far she would grow.

His desire to keep teaching Ibi only deepened.

But first, I need to study myself.

He looked down at the foreign language textbook in his hand.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had read something unrelated to official work.

“Next time, I’ll teach you in a way that’s easier to understand.”

“Yes!”

While Ibi organized her notes, he looked around the office he had had rearranged according to his instructions.

He noticed the traces of use here and there.

No one came here except himself and Ibi. Clearly, she had been making good use of it.

Pleased that he had accurately gauged her tastes, Clois suddenly caught a strange scent.

“…Cookies?”

He hadn’t noticed before, but now, as he moved around preparing to leave, he could smell a faint aroma of baked sweets.

Following it, he found the scent strongest near the new bookshelf.

“Professor! Let’s go now!”

Just as he was about to investigate further, Ibi tugged at him and hurried him outside.

Thanks to her, he left without giving the cookie smell any more thought.

“Give me your bag.”

Without waiting for an answer, he took her schoolbag and then held out his hand.

This time, without hesitation, Ibi clasped it.

Together, they walked along the darkening path toward the dormitory.

And from a window of the neighboring building, someone was secretly watching them.

It was Izriella.

She had been tailing Ibi since noon.

Ibi hadn’t noticed. She had never even imagined someone might be following her.

Besides, she had been too excited at the thought of meeting Professor Cyan.

When Ibi went into a quiet building, Izriella slipped into the one next door instead.

It would have been too risky to follow her into the same building.

Luckily, she found an empty classroom with a good view of the building Ibi had entered.

From there, she waited.

But as curfew neared, Ibi still hadn’t come out.

The lights are still on, so she must be inside…

If the lights had gone out, she could have assumed Ibi had returned and gone back herself. But with no sign of her leaving, Izriella also couldn’t.

Alone in the dark classroom, her anxiety only deepened.

By now, the other students were surely in their rooms, diligently preparing for midterms.

And here she was, wasting time like this.

She said she was learning foreign languages from Professor Cyan, right?

The thought of Ibi comfortably studying while she herself hid and spied made Izriella seethe with envy.

Even the professors keep praising her.

She had thought that even if Ibi had excelled in her countryside school, here at the Academy she would soon hit her limits.

Most of the students here had received the finest education from countless tutors since childhood.

Surely, she had believed, Ibi would learn her place.

That people like Arsel or Ruska would only humor her for a while, before eventually distancing themselves.

But everything had gone against Izriella’s expectations.

When she asked the few students who still associated with Ibi, they told her that in every class she attended, professors couldn’t praise her enough.

“She’s really smart, apparently.”

“I’m jealous of Professor Malles’s class. In the main hall, the other three are from those prestigious families—everyone looks up to them. It feels like an elite circle within the Academy.”

“And that Professor Malles is incredible. We just didn’t realize it because he hadn’t been active. Now he’s forming his own society under his name. And his only young pupil is Ibi… which means she’ll receive all the support from senior members by herself.”

They all spoke with thinly veiled resentment, yet their envy was plain.

At the same time, their eyes turned toward Izriella—as if expecting her to do something about it.

Otherwise, they seemed ready to drift back to Irene’s side.

Pressed by their attitude, Izriella had grown desperate.

That’s why I followed her today.

But she had found no solid evidence to use against Ibi. She hadn’t even managed to study properly for the exams.

Should I just give up for now?

She could always pick it up again after the tests.

But just as she thought that, Ibi emerged from the building.

Unlike when she entered, she was not alone.

With her was a man carrying her schoolbag and holding her hand.

Tall, blond—exactly as Ibi had described in the cafeteria.

Izriella quietly slipped out of the building and began to follow them again, keeping a good distance.