Chapter 48

I pointed back and forth between my own eyes and the fathers of Student #1 and #2 with my index and middle fingers.  

“I’m watching you.”

Then, I twirled my fingers next to my ear.  

“If you mess with the kid behind my back…”

Finally, I drew my hand across my neck with the edge of my palm.  

“You’re all dead—no, I mean, I won’t let it slide.”

Even I had to admit it was ridiculously childish.  

But with these kinds of people, heavy-handed intimidation backed by power always worked best.

Sure enough, the fathers—faces pale as ghosts—snapped to attention and replied in unison.

“W-we’ll be more careful!”

I slung my arm protectively around Palos’s shoulders and gave the headmaster a final, cordial reminder. “Headmaster, I respect your authority and have no intention of interfering with personnel decisions. However, I won’t just sit back if someone messes with someone under my care.”

“Understood. He is the Archmage’s disciple, after all.”

Indeed. By now, most of the guests at the banquet had turned their attention to us.

‘Good. That should get the message across loud and clear.’

Satisfied that my goal had been met, I smiled sweetly again.

“The headmaster is right. So I trust no one would dare, from now on.”

When I glanced down, I noticed Palos staring up at me blankly. Then he flinched and quickly lowered his head.

‘Hmm?’

But it wasn’t because he’d met my eyes—he was reacting to something behind me. Curious, I turned just enough to see—

Esadien, clearing his throat.

“Ahem. Ahem.”

“…Sigh.”

He’d tried to act casual, but I’d already caught the glare he’d shot at Palos.

‘Seriously? Why would you glare at my kid like that?!’

In defiance, I tightened my arm around Palos’s shoulders.

Just then, the group of bullies—#1 and #2 and their lackeys—scattered away like scared rats, giving me a clear view of a familiar head of navy-blue hair.

“Minuelle.”

“Ramande! You’re only just getting here?”

No wonder I hadn’t seen him around. Even punctual Ramande must have been swamped enough to arrive late today.

“Sorry. I’m a little late.”

Even as he apologized, his expression was bitter, like he’d just bitten into an unripe persimmon.

Curious, I looked past him—and saw the “lump” attached to him: Lapheche.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No. Just seeing her ruined my mood.”

Ramande didn’t even bother hiding his displeasure. He offered Esadien a sharp smile and a pointed greeting.

“Fancy meeting you here. I hope you’ve been well, Your Highness.”

“…It’s been a while, priest.”

“As a member of House Karnian, I must say—I’m quite uncomfortable with how persistently Your Highness keeps approaching Minuelle.”

Esadien’s brow twisted into a scowl. Even the veins near his temples popped a little—and I found myself momentarily impressed.

‘Wow. He really has been trying to express his emotions more lately…’

No. No. I’m ignoring him now. Eyes forward, no exceptions.

“You’ve only been a Karnian for ten years.”

“Let’s see…yes, ten years. I was officially accepted by Mother and Father. Unlike some people.”

I quietly started backing away from the two of them, pulling Palos with me. No need to be the shrimp caught between two whales.

Palos tugged gently at my sleeve and asked, “Who are they?”

“The blond prince is my fiancé—we’re in the middle of breaking off the engagement. The one with navy hair is my childhood friend.”

“Hmm…”

He kept glancing between the two of them, clearly bothered.

“What is it?”

“Ah… nothing. But…do you know that person too?”

“Hmm?”

Palos was pointing toward Lapheche, who was nervously greeting Brassidas.

“H-hello… Archmage?”

“Hooh? Well, hello.”

Brassidas replied with clear interest.

I instinctively tightened my grip on Palos’s shoulder, tension spiking.

‘Of all places to run into her… Is he thinking of taking Lapheche as a student too?’

“You’ve got a large mana reservoir. But it doesn’t seem like you’ve learned any formal magic…what a shame. If you’d started training young, you might’ve been something.”

“I-I’d still like to learn, if possible!”

“This year’s admissions are closed. But feel free to apply next year.”

Whew. I let out a small sigh of relief.

‘I guess Palos still has more potential than Lapheche.’

But Lapheche wasn’t about to give up so easily.

“Would you consider taking me on as your disciple?”

I tilted my head slightly.  

‘Did Lapheche… ask to be Brassidas’ disciple in the original story too?’  

My memory was hazy, but I was pretty sure it had been Brassidas who’d reached out first. Now the roles were completely reversed.

“Well,” Brassidas replied, “I already have a disciple. For the time being… until that one can hold his own as a full-fledged mage, I don’t plan to take another.”

That “for the time being” was definitely going to mean at least ten years.

Brassidas glanced at Palos, who stood by my side, and smiled—one of those doting “isn’t my kid just the cutest?” grins.

Only then did Lapheche seem to realize that Palos was his student. She glared daggers at him, then turned those furious eyes on me.

‘W-what the heck?’

Before I could react, Lapheche stomped toward us and demanded, aggressively, “Did you recommend him to the Archmage?”

“Recommend him? Of course not. Our Palos passed the entrance exam fair and square.”

“Liar. You did something behind the scenes, didn’t you? To get in my way?”

“Um… excuse me, Lady Celeste, but I think you’re mistaken. We’re not close enough for me to even know what it is you want.”

“……”

Lapheche clamped her mouth shut, seemingly out of comebacks, but her glare remained sharp as ever.

“I don’t particularly care what it is you want, and frankly, the fact that I’m even answering you right now? That’s me being extremely generous.”

“What? What did I even do—?”

She stopped mid-sentence, realizing she’d said too much.

But if she thought I’d let her off the hook just because of that, she clearly didn’t know me at all.

“Bold of you to parade around so shamelessly after wrecking someone else’s relationship. Did you ever stop to wonder who let you get away with it?”

“Minuelle, I told you—I have nothing to do with that woman.”

Esadien had appeared at some point and interjected in protest, but I ignored him and continued.

“Did it never occur to you that the only reason I didn’t bury you was because I chose not to, Lady Celeste?”

I remembered the noble crowd at my coming-of-age banquet, how they’d turned on Lapheche in an instant when I gave the signal—swaying like a pendulum under the weight of power.

Lapheche clearly remembered it too. Her face flushed with rage.

“Bury me? Who gave you the right to—!”

“Right? What right?”

In this world, no one has the right to trample others. But power existed, and people used it.

I gave her a cold smile, and she trembled with fury.

“…You’re nothing without your family.”

Oof. That hit close to home—but in this world, being born into the right family was a kind of power.

‘Then again, it wasn’t so different in my last life either.’

We’re all born at different starting lines. The difference might be more obvious here, but the principle was the same.

“Oh dear… that’s not a very noble thing to say, is it? I suppose Baron Celeste must really love that side of you.”

For nobles—who call themselves “blue bloods”—family and lineage meant everything. In a society like this, where so much happened in the name of family honor, what she said was borderline heresy.

“Or is that just the standard in the House of Celeste?”

“…You’re being needlessly presumptuous. I have nothing more to say.”

It seemed she’d finally realized what she’d just said. Without even a proper goodbye, she turned and left. Tucking tail and running—classic.

I snorted in derision.  

‘See? Why come and pick a fight with a villain who was minding her own business?’

Lapheche had dug her own grave. After this, her social standing would only decline further.

“Well, that was an entertaining little show. Hohoho!”

I was still steaming from the confrontation when Brassidas’s laughter snapped me back to reality. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten all about Palos and gotten completely swept up in the battle.

“Sorry, Palos. That was pretty immature of me as an adult.”

“No—it was cool.”

“…Cool?”

You think two full-grown adults bickering in public was cool?

“It’s better to win than to lose, right?”

His answer was pure and earnest… and stabbed me right in the conscience.

“Ahaha… You must be hungry. Let’s eat—sorry it gotten so late.”

Embarrassed or not, no matter what else was going on, the kid still needed to be fed. I quickly found an empty table for us, and sure enough, both Ramande and Esadien sat down with us.

‘Was it a mistake pretending not to notice him?’

I couldn’t exactly tell him to go away now. Esadien must’ve figured out that loophole.

I glared at him with the eyes of my soul in silent protest. That’s when Palos hesitantly spoke up.

“Um, excuse me…”

“Hm?”

“Instead of calling you Aunt… can I call you ‘sister’?”

Now that was unexpected.

‘Did seeing that argument make him realize nobles and commoners aren’t so different after all?’

Palos was sharp like that.

‘I really did choose the right person to support.’

Beaming with pride, I reached out and gently ruffled his hair.

“I don’t mind, but I am six years older than you, you know.”

“That’s okay. You’re super pretty, sister.”

Sure, there are plenty of pretty aunties in the world too—but let’s just let that slide. I was far too delighted to care. My cheeks were on the verge of floating off into the sky.

Being called pretty—it never gets old. It always gives me a little thrill!

Palos leaned closer and whispered: “I’ll work really hard. Because you said I’m your person. I want to be someone you’re proud of.”

“…Palos.”

Out of everything that had happened today, this was the most heartwarming.

‘Ah, so this is what having a younger sibling feels like? Is this the kind of touching moment people always talk about?’

Overflowing with emotion, I let out a deep sigh of satisfaction.

—Tsk.

—Tsk.

Two clicks of the tongue echoed from opposite directions at once.

I immediately glared daggers across the table.

“Who just clicked their tongue at my sweet kid? Ramande—was it you? It was you, wasn’t it.”

“Why is it always me…?”

‘Why, you ask? As if you don’t know it’s because I’m ignoring Esadien.’

I drove my foot straight into Ramande’s shin under the table as a warning to shut it.

“Ugh.”

But the one who flinched… wasn’t Ramande. It was Esadien.

‘Ack. Misfire!’

Now, I’m not someone who avoids apologizing. Not ever. I’m very principled that way.

But right now… this happened to the one person I wasn’t supposed to acknowledge. Ugh. So awkward!

I cheerfully ignored Esadien as he quietly endured the pain and swung my foot sideways again.

“Ow!”

This time, a direct hit. Ramande shot me a glare, but I nonchalantly looked away and offered Palos more food.

“Ahem. Here, Palos—try this one too.”

“Thank you.”

Even as silent foot warfare raged beneath the table, peace reigned above it.