Chapter 13 : I Don’t Want to Die
Ailiya’s brain felt like mush.
Clutching the heavy Basic Spellcraft Introduction, she wandered aimlessly through the academy’s ornate corridors, her mind stuck on one question:
How do I apologize to Prince Leon?
Right now, the prince was swarmed by excited noble girls, buzzing around him like bees guarding their queen.
Forget squeezing in—a plain maid like her would probably be skewered by their disdainful glares if she got within three meters.
And… even if I muster the courage to apologize, will he forgive me?
What if he didn’t see my face clearly last night? Wouldn’t going to him now be like turning myself in?
If he gets mad and says, “Drag this criminal away,” I’ll be one step closer to the guillotine.
Maybe… I should take a gamble?
Bet that it was too dark for him to see me, that His Highness is magnanimous and won’t bother chasing down some “burly woman”?
The moment this hopeful thought surfaced, she overheard a group of girls fresh from the training field, chatting excitedly as they passed.
“Outrageous! Someone dared attack Prince Leon!”
“Exactly! His Highness was so gracious, calling it a ‘spar,’ but it was clearly an ambush!”
“Did you hear? St. Freya’s ‘Prince Leon Guardians Fan Club’ is mobilizing to hunt down that insolent thug!”
“No mercy! She’ll pay for offending our shared prince!”
The thick magic book slipped from Ailiya’s arms, hitting the floor with a thud.
Her entire being exploded in panic.
A fan club?! Are these noble girls demons?!
No, no, I have to apologize!
Ailiya scrambled to pick up the book, cold sweat soaking her back.
If those rabid fans caught her and dispensed vigilante justice, it’d be a hundred times worse than the guillotine!
Speaking of fan clubs… she knew someone else at St. Freya with her own devoted following.
Maybe… she could ask her for help?
Ailiya stood before Liliane’s luxurious white oak door, carved with intricate patterns, took a deep breath, and knocked.
“Lady Liliane, it’s Ailiya.”
“Come in.”
A cool voice answered from within.
With permission, Ailiya pushed the door open.
She scanned the absurdly spacious room but saw no sign of Liliane.
Only the sound of running water came from the innermost room.
Is she… bathing?
Ailiya tiptoed toward the closed, clearly soundproofed bathroom door like a thief.
Before she could figure out how to start, the voice inside spoke first.
“You’re on vacation. Why are you here?”
Liliane’s voice, muffled by the door, retained its piercing chill.
Ailiya’s heart raced with nerves. She stammered, words catching in her throat, unable to speak.
“Speak,” Liliane said, a trace of impatience in her tone. “While I’m free.”
“Um…” Ailiya mustered her courage, fingers twisting nervously. “I… I need your help with something… Please don’t get mad.”
A pause, then a single word from within:
“Speak.”
“You… you know about Prince Leon visiting the academy today, right?”
“The teacher announced it at this morning’s meeting.”
“Well… have you heard?”
Ailiya’s voice shrank, barely audible.
“They’re saying someone… accidentally knocked out a guy who snuck in last night… and it turns out it was Prince Leon…”
The sound of water seemed to quiet slightly.
Liliane didn’t respond, as if waiting.
Ailiya steeled herself, closed her eyes, and whispered:
“What if… I said the one who hit the prince… was me? What do I do?”
The water stopped abruptly.
The suite fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the drip of water from silver hair onto the polished floor, echoing in the empty bathroom.
Ailiya knew she was in deep trouble!
With a thud, she dropped to her knees in a perfect dogeza, forehead pressed to the carpet, blurting out at top speed:
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was His Highness! I thought he was a pervert, so I acted! I don’t want to be executed! I know this is a huge mess, but you’re the only one I know who can save me, Lady Liliane! Please, save me! I’ll be your cow or horse in the next life! I’m so sorry and thank you for your boundless grace!”
“…Enough.”
Liliane’s voice finally came, sounding weary.
“Go sit on the sofa and wait. I’ll come out after drying off.”
Ailiya, granted amnesty, scrambled up and sat obediently on the velvet sofa in the reception area, far fancier than her own bed.
Her starched maid uniform clashed with the sofa’s opulent texture.
She sat with hands on her knees, fingers white from gripping, her plain black cloth shoes fidgeting on the carpet.
After what felt like ages, the bathroom door opened.
Liliane emerged in a soft silk bathrobe.
The loose white robe revealed her delicate collarbone and a sliver of smooth skin.
Her wet silver hair draped over her shoulders, strands clinging to her slender neck, water droplets sliding down, disappearing into the robe’s neckline.
Without makeup, her bare face glowed under the room’s soft light, ethereal as a moonlit elf, untouched by mortal dust.
Ailiya stared, jaw dropped, nearly drooling.
“There’s no feast here,” Liliane said, toweling her hair, her tone flat. “Why’s your mouth watering?”
“Ah! Sorry!”
Ailiya snapped out of it, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
Liliane sat on the single sofa opposite, elegantly crossing her legs.
“Now, tell me exactly what happened last night.”
Ailiya recounted everything—from practicing magic to mistaking the prince for a pervert and knocking him out.
Finished, she cautiously looked up, eyes full of hope:
“C-can I be saved?”
Surprisingly, Liliane seemed unconcerned about the prince assault.
She was more interested in something else: “You said you managed a flame arrow? Even if it was finger-sized?”
“Y-yes…”
“And this Leon said your mana circuit was loose, your focus lacking?”
“Uh-huh…”
“He’s right,” Liliane confirmed. “Did you try again after adjusting based on his advice?”
“No, I was about to head back to the dorm… Wait, no! Lady Liliane! We’re not talking about magic practice right now!”
Ailiya finally caught up, waving her fists in protest.
Seeing her frantic, almost jumping state, a tiny, nearly invisible curve touched Liliane’s icy lips, gone as quickly as it came.
“Fine,” she stood. “It’s not a big deal. Take me to him, and we’ll talk face-to-face.”
Ailiya eyed Liliane’s attire—the loose, faintly revealing silk robe—and blurted:
“Are… are you going out like that?”
Liliane paused, turning slowly, her violet eyes glaring coldly.
Ailiya clamped her mouth shut, wishing she could slap herself.