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Chapter 25
Sillia stared fixedly at Alec Phillips, who wore a smug, victorious expression.
“Am I wrong?”
So he’s planning to ride the momentum and press the attack, huh.
Sillia slowly opened her mouth.
“For a magic swordsman, it doesn’t matter whether they defeat their enemy using magic or swordsmanship. As long as they win, that’s the measure of their ability.”
“And usually, both end up mediocre. I’m simply concerned Lord Diaman might be wasting his efforts.”
“Those are harsh words.”
Fleer, who had finally managed to push through the pack of hyenas, stepped beside Sillia. Her chest area was a little disheveled from hastily breaking free of those who wouldn’t let her go. The women’s eyes flicked toward her, and Sillia could feel the waves of jealousy radiating from the young noblemen nearby.
Unaware of those gazes, Fleer faced Alec Phillips with serious indignation.
“How can you insult another at a gathering meant to foster friendship?”
“Well, if Lady Sillia hadn’t acted as she did during the entrance exam… Come to think of it, even then, Lord Diaman was busy defending her. If only he had stepped up as her sponsor and sparred in her place, things wouldn’t have escalated this far—”
“What for?”
Both men turned to her at once.
“They’re not even on the same level. It was only proper that he sparred with me, since we were both taking the same exam. When you challenge someone of higher skill, shouldn’t you at least show proper sincerity?”
“…Lord Fleer and Ingram are both mid-level swordsmen, though.”
“Our lord here is a mid-level swordsman who’s slain a magical beast. You didn’t hear about the academy incident?”
“……”
What, you’re saying your guy’s better than ours?
Alec fell silent at her tone.
“Am I wrong?”
When Sillia glanced at Fleer, she looked a bit uneasy—probably because it wasn’t true. But once Fleer trained enough to slay a beast on her own, it wouldn’t be a lie anymore.
“And one more thing. Lord Ingram couldn’t even defeat me in a duel. How could he possibly cross blades with Lord Fleer?”
“That’s because you used a trick—”
“You keep saying ‘trick’ this, ‘trick’ that.”
Sillia no longer had the patience to entertain this nonsense.
“You mentioned disgrace earlier, didn’t you? Whether it’s a trick or not, being struck by a sword because you let your guard down—that’s a true disgrace. Perhaps Lord Ingram doesn’t understand that yet, despite his years of training.”
“……!”
“Oh, wait. Now that I think about it, he wasn’t even hit by my sword—he fainted from the wind my sword generated, didn’t he?”
A stir broke out near the Phillips family’s seats. There were whispers, someone calling out—apparently, they’d been hiding and listening all along. Sillia deliberately raised her voice.
“I even signaled my attack beforehand. It was Lord Ingram who let his guard down and got struck, then called it a trick.”
Her face turned cold.
“If he wishes for a rematch, I’ll accept anytime, under any handicap conditions he proposes. But—”
Her silver eyes pierced Alec Phillips straight through.
“—only if Lord Ingram himself comes and requests it directly, not through a representative.”
Her next words were as sharp as a blade.
“If he can’t even make that request himself, then he lacks the pride of a swordsman. And I see no reason to face such a man.”
“You should watch your words,” Alec said, his voice dropping low. The earlier composure had vanished completely. Being humiliated publicly—his family name and his brother’s reputation dragged through the mud—was clearly pushing him past his limit. But Sillia had no intention of easing up.
“You were the first to tarnish my honor by calling my skill deceit. And you even suggested Lord Diaman’s investment in me might be wasted. If anyone here has poor judgment—”
In the deathly still silence of the hall, Sillia’s voice rang clear.
“—it’s the Phillips family, for choosing the wrong person to make a swordsman.”
Your brother studied for years under family investment, lost in a rigged exam, was defeated by a novice swordsman from a fallen house—and doesn’t even have the shame to realize it.
Honestly, you people have no eye for talent, do you?
As that meaning sank in, the hall filled with the sound of gasps.
“Perhaps if you had trained in swordsmanship, Lord Phillips, you’d have made a fine swordsman yourself. At least you’re not too timid to speak your mind.”
Alec’s face twisted, while Ingram, red with fury, suddenly burst out from among his family’s seats.
“Ingram!”
“Let me go! I’ll put that arrogant wench in her place once and for all—!”
Idiot.
Taking the bait like that only meant admitting everything she’d said was true. In an instant, the mood of the hall flipped. The guests now looked at Ingram with disapproval.
“I’d heard Lord Ingram had a temper, but…”
“Such lack of composure hardly befits his house’s name.”
Even Alec moved toward his brother, seemingly to restrain him—when suddenly, a firm yet youthful voice rang through the hall.
“What is the meaning of this?”
The room froze.
“…The Fourth Princess.”
Everyone looked stunned. No one had expected royalty to appear today. Sillia, too, was surprised—but on reflection, it wasn’t impossible.
The royal family does sponsor the Royal Academy, after all.
A royal’s presence at the academy’s presentation was not out of place. Realizing this, the guests hurriedly stepped aside and bowed. Sillia also took a polite step back, her movements so natural that she looked as though she’d expected royalty to appear.
That impression only deepened when the young princess addressed her.
“You truly came.”
“…You sent me an invitation, Your Highness.”
“That makes me happy.”
Wait—Her Highness personally invited her?
The crowd rippled in astonishment. So that’s why the one rumored not to have received an invitation had appeared after all—because the princess herself had summoned her.
Ingram’s face went pale as the princess—Marcella—hurried toward Sillia. There was a trace of anxiety in her movements. Sillia bent slightly so their eyes were level.
“My brother…” Marcella whispered softly.
“Marcella.”
“……!”
“Th-the Crown Princess!” someone cried, unable to contain themselves. The hall erupted in shock.
Crown Princess?
Sillia’s eyes flicked toward the newcomer. The impression was oddly different from the one she remembered seeing from afar in her previous life’s battlefield.
Princess Marguerite Ahaim — the rightful heir and first in line to the throne of the Ahaim Kingdom.
Her appearance at a simple academy event was far too exalted.
Her hair was like polished ebony, her dress a deep black matching it, heavy and solemn. Gold embroidery covered the dark fabric so densely that it shimmered with authority rather than gloom.
By coincidence—or fate—Sillia wore a cream-colored dress with elaborate emerald embroidery, creating a striking visual contrast. They looked almost coordinated, as if tailored from the same boutique.
To onlookers, it might even appear as if—
I’m someone from the royal household. Or worse…
…the Crown Princess’s attendant.
That realization flashed through Sillia’s mind just as the Crown Princess fixed her gaze on Marcella.
“Lend me the young lady.”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
Marcella hesitated, as though she had more to say, but stepped back. The Crown Princess took her place, moving with unhurried steps that exuded sheer authority. People instinctively bowed their heads and cleared a path.
“Raise your head,” she said.
Sillia immediately lifted her gaze to meet hers—and nearly smiled.
Her eyes… they’re exactly the same.
Those pale sky-blue eyes were identical to someone she knew. Different mothers, perhaps, but clearly inherited from their father—the king.
Yet unlike the other’s innocent gaze, Marguerite’s were sharp and penetrating.
“Will you spare me a moment of your time?”
“Of course. Just a moment, please…”
Sillia turned slightly to whisper to Fleer, who still stood respectfully nearby.
“May I leave things to you?”
She was worried about the aftermath. After all, she had just humiliated the Phillips family beyond repair. Even though the royal family had now appeared, that didn’t mean the Phillipses wouldn’t seek revenge later.
And from what Sillia knew, Fleer Diaman wasn’t exactly skilled at handling the capital’s viper-like nobles. Hopefully she wouldn’t get eaten alive.
Sensing her concern, Fleer gave a faint, reassuring smile.
“I didn’t attend the heir’s lessons in vain.”
“That’s… comforting to hear.”
Especially since those lessons were from Cecile Diaman—not someone who would’ve taught her lightly.
“I’ll handle the Phillips family.”
“Oh, and—if the Heinz family is here…”
Please, smooth things over for me.
With that, Sillia followed the Crown Princess out. After all, that had been her original goal tonight.
After walking for a while, they reached a quiet, dim corridor that led to a secluded terrace.
That must be the destination.
Just as Sillia thought that, the Crown Princess’s voice echoed softly.
“How far do you trust my brother?”
