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Chapter 60
Watching the back of Princess Fransia as she disappeared at a near-running pace, I let out a deep sigh.
“Phew, this really isn’t easy.”
Ever since I heard that I needed to obtain the ‘Ring’—a top-tier, Unique-grade artifact—from Princess Fransia, I hadn’t been able to sleep properly.
How on earth was I supposed to get it from her?
Stealing or snatching it was impossible.
Then the only option left was to receive it naturally…
‘But considering the relationship I have with that person, it’ll be impossible to get it as a favor, no matter what I do.’
Given how dire things were, maybe I should be thankful I’d managed to get even this far.
“Damn it, I really wanted things to go smoothly for once.”
The only reason I’d bowed my head, almost like I was about to kneel, was because it was the best possible move I could make under the circumstances.
But still—
“She was as snide and arrogant as ever.”
I shook my head, recalling the mocking look in Princess Fransia’s eyes as she stared down at me.
Who was the one who’d been provoking and irritating me long before all this, anyway?
‘During the dungeon exam… and again with Diana…’
Well, at least I’d managed to provoke her and drag her into a bet—a duel of sorts.
‘For now, I think I’ve cleaned up the mess somehow…’
“Damn it.”
It was only natural to be annoyed when something that could have gone smoothly ended up twisted beyond repair.
‘But I can still turn it around, right?’
Up until now, I’d managed to scrape by, relying on my knowledge of the original story.
But this time, things were fundamentally different.
This wasn’t about following the story—it was about changing its events and outcomes entirely.
And on top of that—
“I’m not even sure if making Lady Cecilia the student council president is the right move.”
If I had to describe the Lady Cecilia who appeared in the original story, it would go something like this:
[A noble villainess with a flower garden for a brain, zero social skills, existing somewhere between ‘pure’ and ‘stupid.’]
Because of that, Princess Fransia had easily won the student council election in the original timeline.
But now…
‘That means I actually have to make someone like her the president.’
“Argh! Damn it! Of all the stories, why did I have to reincarnate into this third-rate novel…!”
Couldn’t I just coast along comfortably like other protagonists?
Why did I have to be the one constantly buried under hardship and unfairness?!
“Ah, screw it.”
I’d come this far—there was no turning back now.
If I had to assign blame, everything started when I got reincarnated as Carmon Bayde.
Still, now that it’s come to this—
“I’ll make her president. No matter what.”
It didn’t matter if the original story was derailed, or how difficult it got.
I’d pour everything I had into making Cecilia—that woman—the next student council president.
“……We’ve lost contact with both the Fenelli and Ravenia Marquis households.”
At that report from a sharp-eyed man, the beautiful woman in a dazzling yellow dress bit her lower lip hard.
“What… all of a sudden?”
“It seems that Her Highness’s candidacy was completely unexpected. Still, you needn’t worry too much, my lady. News from your family should arrive soon.”
Despite her secretary Albion’s reassuring words, Lady Cecilia’s expression remained tense.
“The fact that multiple houses moved at once means this was planned in advance. Make sure you report that to my father, Albion.”
“Yes, I’ve already done so, my lady.”
“Phew.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, Cecilia raised her teacup and looked out the window toward the grand campus of the academy.
Grind.
Her teeth clenched tight.
The image of Princess Fransia—walking proudly, smiling serenely, as if she could embrace the whole world—rose vividly in her mind.
“She’s always like that.”
Thinking of the woman who constantly got under her skin, Cecilia irritably ran her fingers through her hair.
Unlike her own dull hair color, Fransia’s bright platinum hair shimmered beautifully, and her radiant smile alone was enough to charm anyone.
“Maybe I should just dye my hair too…”
“Pardon, my lady?”
“Ah—no, it’s nothing.”
Waving off her secretary’s puzzled reaction, Cecilia once again thought of her eternal rival, Princess Fransia.
The atmosphere of the election—once considered a foregone conclusion—was rapidly shifting.
If things continued as they were, she’d lose the presidency to Fransia in the blink of an eye.
“No. I absolutely won’t let that happen.”
For Lady Cecilia, who had grown up without ever facing real hardship, Princess Fransia was a thorn in her side in every way imaginable.
“Ah, right. My lady, there’s one more thing.”
“What is it?”
“Well… outside, there’s a student named Carmon Bayde, formerly of the Bayde Marquis family. He’s asked to see you.”
“Carmon Bayde?”
“Yes. The one who once attacked Her Highness, the princess…”
“Yes, I know who he is.”
Cecilia, of course, was familiar with the name.
She’d found it rather satisfying when he’d managed to embarrass the princess, and later even used his name to rile Fransia up once or twice.
‘But wasn’t he demoted to commoner status?’
“It would probably be best to refuse. I can take care of it—”
“No, wait.”
Ordinarily, she would never agree to meet privately with a mere commoner.
But—
‘He’s on bad terms with the princess, isn’t he?’
“Fine. I’ll see him.”
“M-My lady?”
“Tell him I’ll meet him.”
“Yes, at once.”
“…….”
“…….”
In the parlor, the two sat across from each other in silence, sipping tea.
Clack!
“Are you going to sit there saying nothing forever?”
It was Cecilia who spoke first.
‘Ugh, I really don’t like this man.’
Even just meeting with a commoner was an enormous concession for her.
And yet, he sat there silently, sipping his tea as if this were his home?
Honestly, people really should stick to their own kind…
“Do you intend to surrender the student council presidency to Princess Fransia?”
“…What?”
“I asked if you plan to hand over the student council president’s seat to Princess Fransia.”
“……”
The question was so blunt and sudden that Cecilia was momentarily lost for words.
‘Wh-what’s with this guy?’
Even a fallen noble should know basic manners.
Yet this man, now a commoner, had the nerve to throw such a rude question at her face?
“W-what are you talking about?”
“Those who were originally supposed to support your campaign have joined Princess Fransia. The general student body now assumes she’ll win.”
“……”
“If you continue doing nothing, the presidency will naturally fall into her hands, don’t you think?”
With a faint smile, Carmon Bayde’s words made Cecilia’s temper flare.
“Then what exactly are you trying to say?”
“My point is simple. Are you willing to let Princess Fransia take the presidency?”
“……”
Cecilia fell silent, her gaze deepening as she glared at him. Then—
“Carmon, you are an incredibly rude man.”
“Excuse me? Rude?”
“How could you ask such cruel questions without a moment’s hesitation…”
“Ah, I see.”
Carmon smiled faintly and nodded. Cecilia frowned.
“Y-you’re laughing? You think I’m a joke, don’t you?!”
“No, not at all. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“I think I finally understand why people abandoned you for the princess.”
“…What did you just say?!”
Bang!
Leaping to her feet, Cecilia trembled with anger, her patience finally gone.
Never in her life had anyone been this insolent to her.
‘Filthy, rude, horrible!’
Her fury surged so high that her eyes began to glisten with tears.
Then—
“But I’m not like them.”
Carmon’s calm voice halted her. His faint smile remained.
“At least, I intend to make you the next student council president.”
“……!”
For a brief moment, Cecilia felt dizzy—like she was falling from a great height.
‘What… what is this feeling?’
“I’ll ask again. Are you giving up on the presidency?”
“……”
After a pause, Cecilia glared at him sharply and shouted,
“No! I’m not giving up! Why should I?!”
Her voice rose without her realizing it.
“Yes, Carmon. You’re right—the situation is difficult. But I’m going to do everything I can. I will claim that position.”
A rivalry. A destiny.
Princess Fransia and Lady Cecilia—two women locked in inevitable opposition.
A princess representing the imperial faction, and a noble lady representing the aristocracy.
Young, beautiful, and of similar age, they were perfect symbols of a power struggle without bloodshed.
Perhaps even this student council election at the Royal Academy of Flains was merely another extension of that same fate—an inescapable cycle binding the two.
“And especially because my opponent is Princess Fransia, I refuse to let her have it!”
Clack.
Carmon calmly set his teacup down and spoke again.
“In this world, effort alone doesn’t guarantee success. If it did, every hard-working person would already have achieved their dreams.”
“W-what did you just say?”
“But the fact that you’re unwilling to give up—that’s a very good thing.”
With a faint smile, Carmon continued,
“I’ll help you win this election.”
“……?!”
The sudden offer made Cecilia freeze in place.
Then she asked cautiously,
“Why, all of a sudden?”
“It’s not sudden. I already have a plan to ensure your victory.”
“……”
His unshakable confidence left Cecilia speechless.
Then she muttered,
“You’re lying.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re mocking me, aren’t you? After being abandoned, you show up just to make fun of me—”
“My lady, I’m not lying. Nor am I joking.”
His reply was firm, resolute.
“I understand that this must seem abrupt and confusing. But still…”
Nodding slightly, Carmon spoke with calm seriousness.
“Why don’t you hear my plan first—and decide afterward?”
“…A plan?”
“Yes. A groundbreaking strategy that will make you president.”
With a deep, confident smile on his lips, Carmon Bayde leaned forward.
And for reasons she couldn’t explain, Cecilia felt an odd sense of unease—something quietly unsettling in the air.
