(Rodel Aiwood… is that the fool prince from the rumors!?)
Hearing the golden-haired boy—Rodel's—shouting, Rest's eyes widened.
He certainly knew the name, but this was his first time meeting the person in the flesh.
Before enrolling, he had been warned about him by his adoptive father, Marquis Rosemary, as someone to watch out for.
"Listen well, Rest. Among the nobles and royalty, there are plenty of people you need to be careful around… but the very worst of them is Third Prince Rodel."
According to the marquis, Rodel was nothing like what one would expect of the son of a king renowned as a wise ruler—he was an arrogant, overbearing individual through and through.
He looked down on everyone around him as a matter of course, lorded his authority over others, and naturally believed that anything he did would be forgiven simply because he had been born a prince.
To make matters worse, he was a womanizer. He had forced himself on maids working in the royal palace, nearly caused an international incident by making advances on a princess sent from another country for diplomatic purposes… the list of problems he had caused was too numerous to count.
And yet he possessed genuine talent for magic, which only fed his ego—reinforcing the notion that he was an exceptional individual, a chosen genius.
"Listen, Rest! If that fool prince ever tries to lay a hand on my daughters, you stop him even if you have to use force! In the worst case, even if you kill him, I'll take full responsibility!"
"well… even so, killing him would be going too far, wouldn't it…?"
Rest had offered a wry smile at the marquis's words… but now, actually meeting this fool prince in person, he could fully understand the urge to do the very thing he had called excessive.
(His way of speaking is different, but the vibe is a little reminiscent of my useless older brother back home… He's the type where you feel like just one punch would be perfectly justified…)
"What's the matter, commoner? Hurry up and get out of my classroom. Didn't you hear me say that I'll be entering A-Class?"
Rodel furrowed his brows in displeasure.
Beside him, a nervous-looking, small-framed boy was pushing his glasses up and down with little jerky movements, while a large, bald-headed boy had his hand gripping the sword attached to the belt at his waist.
He didn't actually mean to draw his blade right here if Rest refused to comply… did he?
(This is bad… What's the right move in a situation like this?)
Facing the three boys standing before him in a menacing manner, Rest let out a troubled sigh.
This is going to be a real pain. I have no idea how to handle this.
If it were Cedric, I would've just punched him already… but as annoying as he is, he's still the Third Prince.
I couldn't just beat my way out with violence.
"What are you dawdling for? I said stand up already!"
"You would dare defy the orders of His Highness!? Hurry up and get out!"
"If you refuse to obey His Highness's orders…!"
(Ugh, they're so loud… Who are these two lackeys anyway?)
Growing increasingly irritated by the two hangers-on who kept raising their voices, Rest decided he might as well stand up from his chair.
(Let's see… In a situation like this, what's the right move?)
He casually glanced around, only to have his classmates avert their gazes, clearly wanting nothing to do with any of this.
He understood the feeling. In their shoes, Rest would probably do the same thing.
(There's no helping it… For now, let me try stating the obvious, at least.)
"My sincerest apologies. Prince Rodele, Third Prince… I never imagined I would have the honor of meeting Your Highness's noble visage in a place like this. My reaction was slow as a result."
Rest rose and gave a refined bow.
A perfect bow, as taught by Diebl. A polished movement that would bring no embarrassment even in the most high-society circles.
"Oh…?"
Receiving such an elegant display of noble etiquette, Rodele's eyes widened in surprise.
"…You weren't a commoner?"
"Yes. I am a commoner, technically."
"Then cease your dawdling and obey my orders at once. You will be placed in Class D."
"Move quickly!"
"With all due respect, I have a question. You say I should change classes, but... have you obtained the teacher's permission for this?"
"Hmph... If I'm telling you to do it, then I don't need permission from some mere teacher."
"Then please obtain that permission first. There are procedures that must be followed. Once the proper steps have been taken, I will transfer to Class D."
"You...! Are you defying His Highness Rodele!?"
The large man grabbed Rest by the collar.
He was lifted straight up, his feet leaving the floor.
(Well now... he's pretty strong.)
He didn't look like a mage. Was he from the Knight Department?
Those thick arms, that massive build... everything about the man screamed that he was a warrior who had honed his body to its limits.
"That's right! Why would His Highness Rodele, who is the Third Prince, need to go through some teacher to get permission!?"
The small bespectacled man was chattering away from below.
True to his physical appearance, he gave off an overwhelming aura of being a petty little lackey.
(Just like the rumors — the type where reason and logic won't get through... What should I do about this? If this goes on, Viola and Primula are going to come back from the restroom.)
If the two of them — and for that matter, Yuri — saw this scene, they would no doubt confront Rodele head-on.
(Clearly, this prince and his lackeys are the ones in the wrong... but that said, I don't want to actively stir up trouble. I'd rather not involve any of them with this prince.)
For now, he would pretend to comply with the demand and leave the classroom.
Then... after that, he would report the incident to the faculty and leave them to handle the cleanup.
"Very well. Then I'll do as you say..."
"You all! What are you doing!"
Rest was about to surrender unconditionally when a sharp voice echoed through the classroom.
The voice belonged to a female student who had just entered the room.
For a split second, Rest flinched, but it wasn't Viola, Primula, or Yuri who had appeared.
"Celestine...!"
Cedric clicked his tongue in irritation.
Standing in the classroom entrance was Celestine Crocus.
The female student standing there was Cedric's fiancée, a young lady of ducal birth.