A cheerful whistle escaped from between Adrian Heather’s lips. Step, step—his footsteps echoed softly across the lawn of Basamiel’s central garden.
He carried a large armful of flowerpots of various sizes, heavy enough to be burdensome, yet his steps were light as air. After receiving Kyle D’Baicia’s permission, he had picked out only the most temperamental herbs from the greenhouse and was now bringing them over.
“It’ll be easier to take care of them if they’re right next to me.”
The dormitory window let in generous sunlight, making it a far better environment than the greenhouse. Since the prince had granted him permission the day before, Adrian intended to haul everything over before the royal changed his mind. The clattering pots shifting in his arms filled him with a sense of pride.
Thankfully, when he opened the dormitory door and stepped inside, Mikhail didn’t say a word.
“……”
The prince was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching Adrian wordlessly as the latter cheerfully set the pots down while humming a tune. Though Mikhail had indeed said yesterday that Adrian could use the space as he pleased, seeing the windowsill now overflowing with pots made him want to take that statement back. But as royalty, he couldn’t just flip his words on a whim the very next day.
As Adrian carefully placed the final pot down, he sensed Mikhail’s gaze and turned his head sharply.
“Looks nice, doesn’t it?”
The lush greenery of the flowerpots formed a serene harmony with the brilliant blue sky outside the grand windows. The indoor air even seemed more pleasant now.
Mikhail gave a light shrug. His pride wouldn’t allow him to agree so easily.
“But they’re not just for show. Every one of these herbs has its own use.”
With a smile like someone admiring something adorable, the dragon brushed dust from the leaf of the last plant he had set down.
“This one especially—if you grow it properly, it bears fruit that lets you go days without drinking water.”
There’s a herb like that?
Mikhail raised his eyebrows, clearly hearing of it for the first time. If such an herb truly existed, it would have been famous enough for even a prince to know. But the plant in Adrian’s hands looked no different from an ordinary weed.
“Liar.”
Lifting his fingers gently from the leaf, the dragon met the prince’s crimson eyes.
“It’s true. But like I said—you have to grow it properly. Ordinary humans can’t raise it to that point.”
“Ordinary humans?”
The prince tilted his head, a question flickering in his red eyes. There it was again—that strange manner of speaking.
“……So you’re saying you’re not an ordinary human?”
Mikhail frowned. From all he knew, Adrian Heather—aside from his overly handsome face and arrogant attitude—was perhaps the most ordinary human in all of Basamiel.
Adrian didn’t answer. The prince’s crimson gaze, reflecting the sunlight, seemed almost to pierce through the dragon.
Ding—dang—
Just then, the clock tower of the academy’s main building rang out the hour.
Adrian turned to Mikhail with an innocent expression.
“Is it that time already? Let’s go grab lunch. I’m in a good mood, so it’s my treat.”
He still had plenty of Tilons from Ordinas, so he was covered.
Mikhail, whose stomach was coincidentally starting to growl, nodded and set down the swordsmanship manual he had been reading on the bed.
***
“Huh? Your Highness, isn’t it? I finally get to meet you in person.”
A voice called out as Adrian and Mikhail entered the academy dining hall. Mikhail, who had been walking ahead, turned his head at the familiar title.
It was a male student in the same academy uniform. Judging by his red necktie, he was a senior—two years above them. His soft brown hair was neatly combed back, revealing a wide forehead and olive-colored eyes. His lips curved into a gentle smile.
Mikhail looked at his face and recognized him immediately.
Cameron Harris.
They had met before entering the academy, during the preparatory education phase for royals and nobles—an academy designed to teach them etiquette and knowledge required of their status. Though they hadn’t taken classes together due to the age difference, they had occasionally socialized through their elder brothers.
“Yes. I suppose this is our first time seeing each other here at Basamiel.”
Mikhail nodded and accepted the greeting, then pointed out what had been bothering him.
“In keeping with the academy’s purpose, I permit you to speak casually.”
“……My apologies. I just called you ‘Your Highness’ out of habit. In that case, should I…?”
Cameron appeared unsure, clearly debating which form of address to use, now that “Your Highness” was off the table. Mikhail casually smoothed down his silver hair with one hand and answered.
“Mikhail is fine.”
He resolved Cameron’s dilemma without hesitation.
“Ah, I see. And—”
Cameron’s gaze shifted to Adrian, who stood idly at Mikhail’s side.
He was a tall man, roughly the same height as Mikhail. At least he’s got the looks to match, Cameron thought. His golden hair gleamed as if maintained with expensive oils, and his sharp nose and defined jawline were striking.
Anyone with even the most basic sense of noble etiquette would have introduced themselves by now. Yet the man standing beside the prince made no effort, simply listening to the conversation without a word.
“Hmm, ahem.”
Cameron lightly cleared his throat, bringing a finger to his lips. Adrian knew exactly what the gesture implied but feigned ignorance, unwilling to put in the effort. From the perspectives of both Mikhail and Cameron, it only made him look like a socially inept commoner.
The prince’s crimson eyes flicked briefly to the side. Even if Adrian was the heir to a wealthy merchant family, meeting the lofty standards of the Harris family—who had long held key positions within the kingdom—was no small feat for a commoner. Cameron, in particular, was known for his fastidiousness. He took great joy in coldly judging and dismissing lower-ranked nobles in their shared classes.
“Go ahead.”
Mikhail addressed Adrian, who was still standing there blankly.
Adrian gave a slight nod and, murmuring “See you,” casually made his way into the academy dining hall. Cameron could only stare after him in mild disbelief as the man walked away without a second glance.
After a pause, Cameron muttered with a trace of frustration.
“……You’re not going to introduce him? I wouldn’t mind doing it myself, if it’s a bother.”
Introducing oneself to a royal or high-ranking noble was a rare honor, never to be missed. It was also a golden opportunity to assert one’s social superiority over someone who had dared to stand upright before a noble without so much as a bow.
“Hmm. I take it that greeting me wasn’t enough?”
“No, no, of course not.”
Cameron laughed nervously, waving his hands in denial.
“So you’ve already made a friend. Life here in Basamiel must be quite different from the capital, right? Prince Alix was quite concerned, so I’ll have to write him a letter right away.”
Alix? Mikhail’s lips curled in mild irritation as he thought of his eldest brother, who never did more than send the occasional detached greeting. Before Cameron could write anything of the sort, Mikhail had to make something clear.
“……He’s not my friend.”
“Pardon?”
Cameron tilted his head.
“I said, he’s not my friend. So don’t go sending nonsense to my brother.”
“……Is that so?”
“He’s just my assigned roommate here at Basamiel. That’s all.”
Cameron scratched his cheek with a slightly confused expression.
“Still, you’re going to classes together and coming to eat side by side…”
“……”
Mikhail’s eyebrow twitched.
“That’s usually what people do with friends, isn’t it?”
Cameron cast another quick glance toward the blond-haired man who had gone into the dining hall ahead of them.
“Prince Alix will be delighted to hear about this.”
Hmph. Let him think what he wants. Mikhail scoffed and turned his head sharply. If people wanted to misunderstand, that was their problem.
“To be honest, word spreads fast around here. I’ve heard a few things already—he’s from the Hedera merchant family, isn’t he?”
“……Rumors?”
“The academy’s a small and very boring place, after all.”
“Suddenly I’m regretting every single gold Basamiel scraped from me in tuition.”
Cameron slowly let his lips return to their neutral position, his earlier smile fading under Mikhail’s cold tone. But he hadn’t said what he truly wanted to yet.
“Your Highness—excuse me, Mikhail.”
He called his name with an unusually serious look on his face.
“When it comes to royals and nobles, their bloodlines and family histories speak for themselves. There’s no need to question their identity. But when it comes to making friends, one should be a bit more careful.”
He went on with a typically noble brand of haughty, cold advice.
“Even if he runs a trade company, he’s still a commoner without a single title—and only distantly related to one of the secondary branches. Wouldn’t it be better to befriend someone who’ll be of use even after graduation? I was actually hosting a party this week—”
Mikhail, who carried the thick bloodline of the Rustavaran royal house, slowly lifted his blood-red eyes toward Cameron.
“You done?”
“Eh?”
Cameron stiffened instantly as he realized the youngest prince’s expression had turned icy. Mikhail stepped forward, brushing past him without another word and walked into the dining hall. Not even a parting greeting.
Cameron, left standing, gave a slow, polite bow toward the retreating prince.
What did I say to offend him? He hadn’t even gotten to the part about the party invitation. Cameron remained bowed, a cold sweat breaking out as he recalled the chill in the prince’s gaze.
