Chapter 11
The Truth Behind the Letter Scandal
On the day of the Military Academy’s entrance ceremony, the attention of not only the students but also the parents in attendance focused on one spot.
Standing among the cadets was none other than Leopold Rynarke, heir apparent to the throne and adopted grandson of the Emperor — the Crown Prince of Rynarke.
Even without his royal status, Leopold was someone who naturally drew attention.
His slender face, the soft pink tint still remaining on his full lips, and his flawless, pale skin — not a single blemish to be seen — made him appear almost beautiful, despite being a man. His eyes were gray, a color extremely rare even among imperial nobility, and his blue ceremonial uniform suited him so perfectly that he looked like a figure painted into a portrait.
When the motionless, statue-like Leopold finally began to move, a murmur spread through the hall. Even walking in formation with the other cadets, his bearing was utterly distinct — poised, noble, and graceful to the point of seeming cold. His elegant composure made him stand out even more.
“Look at the way he walks.”
“He really is the Crown Prince, isn’t he?”
“His family name’s Rynarke — who else could he be?”
Within a month, however, Leopold Rynarke revealed his true colors.
He quickly picked up his peers’ slang and vulgar expressions.
When a fellow cadet got a girlfriend, Leopold was the first to rush over and interrogate him about it.
When it came to disrupting class, he was unstoppable — clever, cunning, and relentless.
The real surprise came in academics: he studied so fiercely that he began crushing the hopes of scholarship-seeking cadets who thought they could outrank him.
“Can’t you take it easy, Leopold?”
“You’re going to be the Crown Prince anyway! Why bother being first in class?!”
“Some of us need good grades to get the transfer posts we want after graduation!”
“Stop stealing the fleas’ livers, Leopold! You’ll be fine no matter what!”
Leopold ignored the complaints.
The Hartenas Air Corps, located near where Rene lived, was a prestigious posting — and he needed top grades to qualify.
Still, even the highly motivated Leopold couldn’t stomach the tedium of military law class.
“Cadet Rynarke!”
The professor, who had finally lost patience with Leopold’s constant tardiness, called him out one day.
Leopold, caught sneaking in through the back door, sighed, stood at attention, and barked out his name.
“Cadet Rynarke!”
“If you’re late one more time, I’ll confiscate your love letters and make you recite them in the courtyard!”
Leopold’s face turned so red that he resembled a ripe strawberry as he dropped into his seat in panic.
“Who is she, anyway?”
Unable to resist his curiosity, one of the first-year cadets slid into the seat beside Leopold during lunch.
Leopold, head nearly buried in his tray, his ears scarlet, looked less like a future emperor or a grand duke’s son and more like any young man in love.
“What does she look like?”
Leopold couldn’t help but laugh — embarrassed but pleased — before standing up, still having eaten almost nothing.
As he walked away to return his tray, his classmates exchanged glances.
They silently made a pact: they were going to find out who this girl was.
“You arrogant brat! Out with it already!”
“Give it back!”
Leopold was cornered in the lounge, his shirt snatched away, surrounded by a group of relentless cadets.
He darted glances around the room — there were a few upperclassmen nearby, but none looked inclined to help.
So this was how it was — at the Academy, his royal status meant absolutely nothing.
That realization almost made him laugh.
Finally, with a helpless grin, he confessed.
“Brown hair, brown eyes, incredibly beautiful. Now give me back my shirt!”
“Not so fast. How old is she?”
Leopold sighed and admitted quietly,
“Twenty-five.”
“What?! She’s older?”
“Leopold, you sly devil!”
The room burst into noise as more cadets crowded around.
Leopold broke into a sweat and shut his eyes, bracing himself.
“So… you’ve done it, right? What’s it like?”
“What are you talking about?! We haven’t done anything like that!”
“Liar, Leopold!”
“What does she like, then?”
The crude questions came one after another.
Leopold’s ears burned; cold sweat trickled down his back.
This kind of interrogation was common in the all-male dorms.
Any hint of a romance became entertainment for everyone, a diversion from the monotony of military life.
Leopold himself had once joined in such teasing — even ripping off poor Freddy’s shirt when rumors spread that he had a girlfriend.
It had been hilarious then.
Now, on the receiving end, it was pure humiliation.
“You’d better answer, Leopold Rynarke!”
“Don’t keep us in suspense!”
“What, you’ve got a girlfriend but still flirted with me last week?”
Freddy — the same cadet he’d teased before — smirked and signaled to the others.
A shout went up, and in a flurry of laughter and chaos, they grabbed Leopold, stripped him of his pants and underwear, and threw him into the hallway wearing nothing but his sock garters.
Leopold laughed awkwardly, covering himself as best he could.
“Enough! Give them back!”
“Not until you talk, Your Highness!”
“Fine! I invited her to the New Year’s Ball. I’ll introduce her then!”
The cadets exchanged looks and, after a pause, threw him back his shirt — but nothing else.
Mortified but relieved to have escaped worse, Leopold bolted back to his room.
But when the night of the New Year’s Ball came, the woman everyone had been waiting to meet — Leopold’s mysterious lover — never appeared.
Standing at the grand entrance, watching carriage after carriage arrive, Leopold bit his lip and turned away, stepping out into the freezing mix of rain and snow.
An instructor saw him descending the icy steps and called after him, but Leopold didn’t stop.
He ran out through the Academy gates and vanished into the storm.
When he finally returned to the dormitory late that night, he was half-frozen, soaked to the skin, his hair stiff with ice. He had walked all the way to the central train station, just to stand at the platform and watch the last train arrive — the train that would have brought Rene, if she had come.
He caught pneumonia soon after and locked himself in his room.
It wasn’t serious — he was strong and young — but he spent his days in bed, scowling at the ceiling.
His close friend Benny came to visit, coaxing him to the lounge and handing him a cup of tea loaded with sugar.
Leopold only sighed and stared blankly ahead.
Soon, other cadets joined in, spotting him there.
“You said you’d introduce her at the ball!”
Leopold’s gray eyes flashed icy blue.
One look was enough for them to guess what had happened.
“She ditched you, huh? Dumped you?”
Laughter broke out around him.
Leopold pushed Jesse’s face away irritably and muttered,
“It’s not like that.”
“Then why didn’t she come?”
“I don’t know.”
“You should write her a letter, idiot.”
“I did. She didn’t reply.”
Everyone sighed at once.
“You got dumped.”
“Poor Leopold, dumped by his girlfriend.”
“She’s probably seeing someone else!”
Leopold groaned and slumped deeper into the sofa.
Benny’s eyes lit up with an idea.
“Send her another letter — tell her you’re sick, ask her to visit.”
“Already did.”
The usually lively, mischievous Leopold now sat expressionless, and it made his friends uneasy.
Then someone spoke up.
“What if we wrote the letter for you?”
Leopold’s eyes sparkled. His lips curled into a grin.
To Miss Martin,
I am Brian Rilke, a third-year cadet and direct superior to Cadet Leopold Rynarke.
Rynarke has fallen gravely ill with pneumonia and is currently unconscious.
We sincerely hope Miss Martin might visit and lend him strength in his fight against the illness.Faithfully,
Brian Rilke
It was a short letter, but they had to rewrite it four times before it was just right.
Of course, Leopold couldn’t write it himself — it had to look official — so Benny, whose handwriting was the neatest among them, took up the pen.
When the final line was written, the room erupted in cheers.
Leopold, grinning for the first time in days, slipped the letter into an envelope and dropped it into the postbox.
Three days later, a woman arrived at the Academy’s front gate.
Beneath a red wool hat, strands of brown hair framed her pale face. She wore a light gray wool coat over a brown dress and dark boots; her cheeks were flushed pink from the biting wind.
“Are you here for a visit, miss?”
The sentry at the gate greeted her kindly — speaking with a beautiful woman was always pleasant.
“I’ve come to visit a cadet.”
“This way, please.”
He led her inside the gate and handed her a form at the guard post.
“Please write down your information here — and the name of the cadet you wish to see.”
“Leopold Rynarke. The one who’s hospitalized. I must see him.”
