The life of Rodele Aiwood, Third Prince of the Kingdom of Aiwood, had begun bathed in blessings.
His father was the King of the Kingdom of Aiwood. His mother, though a consort, was a princess of the Gaiselle Empire, a friendly nation. He was a thoroughbred of the finest chosen bloodlines.
Born as a bridge between two nations, Rodele had lived without a single want, doted upon by Her Majesty the Queen Dowager, the most powerful figure of the age.
He was also brimming with magical talent—a prodigy so exceptional that it was a waste for him to be merely the Third Prince… or so he believed.
"Damn it… me, confined to house arrest? The academy's teachers have some nerve, pulling this kind of nonsense…!"
Rodele, for all his airs, was currently serving a suspension at a detached palace.
It had all started when he made a move on a certain female student.
That female student happened to be the fiancée of a male classmate.
At lunch break, she had come to Classroom 1-D of the Magic Department to meet her fiancé, when… Rodele laid eyes on her and took a fancy to her.
The girl was by no means flashy, but she had a simple, endearing charm about her.
She was hardly fit to be the wife of a man of Rodele's standing, but she would serve nicely as a temporary plaything to toy with.
So he approached her.
He ordered her to entertain him during lunch break.
He ordered her to attend to him.
Just that. Nothing more.
Yet for some reason, the male classmate flew into a rage.
He tried to stop Rodele—and then, the insolent wretch actually grabbed him.
Rodele didn't know the boy's name, but he remembered that he was the son of a minor noble.
A low-born commoner, noble or not, had laid hands on his sacred person. Punishment was in order.
So he burned him with fire magic. Not taking his life was the barest mercy he could show.
(And yet… why should I be the one who gets punished!? I am Rodele Aiwood, beloved of Her Majesty the Queen Dowager!)
"Damn it!"
Rodele slammed his fist on the table.
A maid standing in the corner of the room flinched, her shoulders trembling, but he couldn't care less.
Being punished by academy faculty—it was an unbearable humiliation.
To make matters worse… his father the King had not been the only one to scold him harshly. His elder brother had done the same.
That only made Rodele even more furious.
(A hundred steps back, I can accept Father's reproach—he is the king, after all. But being lectured by my brother, who merely happened to be born first? I will not tolerate it!)
Rodele had two older brothers, but he had never once considered them his superiors.
Their mothers were indeed the queen consort, but they were daughters of dukes. Rodele's mother was a consort, but she was a princess of a neighboring country.
In other words, Rodele's bloodline was superior.
In principle, it should have been Rodele who stood as heir to the throne—not his brothers, who had nothing to their names but being born a little earlier.
(They're nothing but sons of a duke's daughter. Neither of them has any real talent for magic. They may be passable at governance and martial arts, but those are jobs for vassals! They are not talents a true king needs!)
Rodele clenched his fist and slammed the table once more.
He whispered to himself, deep in his heart.
Someday, he would turn it all around.
He would overthrow the eldest brother who had usurped the title of crown prince, and drive out the second brother who was merely born a little earlier, reclaiming what rightfully belonged to him.
He alone was fit to be the next king. Surely everyone around him thought so too.
"Your Highness Rodele, Lord Eiger the Marquis has arrived."
A knock came at the door, and a familiar butler poked his head in.
Rodele couldn't be bothered to remember the names of his servants, but this was a highly competent butler who had once served the queen dowager as well.
"Pardon the intrusion… Your Highness Rodele, it has been too long."
The visitor was one of Rodele's supporters—a long-serving minister of the kingdom, Marquis Eiger.
An elderly man well past sixty, he entered the room leaning on a cane.
"You've come, Eiger."
"Yes… When I heard that Your Highness had been suspended from the academy, I simply could not stay put. Honestly, to think the academy's teachers would dismiss Your Highness, who is Her Majesty the Queen Dowager's chosen successor—how utterly foolish…!"
Rodele nodded emphatically at the marquis, who was shaking his head in dismay.
"The academy has gone to pot! They have no idea who should be ruling this country. Once I take my rightful position, there will have to be reforms!"
"I shall support Your Highness until that day comes… As for the academy, let me handle it on my end. I will make sure they lift this punishment at the earliest opportunity."
"Yes, do that."
Eiger was not only a marquis but also one of the board members involved in the academy's administration.
Though day-to-day discretion largely rested with the faculty, he was not someone who could be ignored.
"One more thing… find out who it was that restrained me."
"Restrained Your Highness…? One of the faculty, perhaps?"
"No… There was someone who used a smoke screen and launched a cowardly sneak attack. I couldn't see his face, but even so, this was a man capable of knocking me unconscious with a single ambush. He must be some high-ranking noble."
Rodele was furious—separate from his suspension—about the fact that someone had knocked him unconscious.
That despicable coward had used the most craven of tactics, a smoke screen, to bring him to the ground and then knocked him out with magic.
(An affront to me, the bearer of the most sacred blood in the kingdom… utterly unforgivable! I will find him, and execute his entire family…!)
"Understood. I will look into it."
"I'm counting on you."
Rodele harbored a seething hatred in his chest, issuing his orders with undisguised malice.
No amount of punishment would ever make Rodele reflect on his actions.
Because he genuinely believed himself to be the most noble, the most righteous being in existence.
But Rodele had not realized something.
The marquis bowing respectfully before him—Eiger's loyalty was directed entirely at the queen dowager, not at Rodele himself.
It wasn't just Eiger. The vast majority of those who had sworn loyalty to Rodele were not looking at him, but at the queen dowager who stood behind him.
It would still be some time before Rodele realized that he was nothing more than a fox borrowing the majesty of a tiger.