The Elegant Sea of Savagery

Chapter 5

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After the incident that had left everyone shaken, Ileanor was able to attend the Academy in peace. For people now knew that all this time, he had merely been holding himself back.

Martin behaved like he was more or less invisible, thoroughly disheartened since then. He holed himself up in his dorm room and didn’t even come to class, raising doubts on whether he could advance into the next year. But people were too busy whispering about Ileanor to give Martin any attention.

Come to think of it, he was quite sneaky, that Ileanor. The taciturn boy had an indescribable, obscure air about him that many found disturbing—an uneasiness that could be a repulsion against the sense of displacement or danger he gave off.

Eyewitnesses from that day began to avoid Ileanor after seeing his expressionless face as he beat Martin senseless. They didn’t want to get involved with him, not even by accident. Ileanor was alone as always, but now for different reasons.

Meanwhile, yet another rumor began to circulate in the Academy around then. Coincidentally, the rumor was once again about Ileanor Schuberg—and Irina Nordiak. The entire school was shocked that the second son of Count Schuberg had actually professed his feelings to the girl with the unspeakable nickname.

Irina was only made aware of these rumors much later.

“By the way, Irina, I heard Ileanor asked you out.”

She was lying with her head on Ludwig’s sturdy lap as always, when she sprang up in horror and let out a scream.

“What? How do you know about that?” she yelped in alarm.

Ludwig, who normally never had the upper hand with Irina, clicked his tongue triumphantly. Got you this time, his expression seemed to say.

Irina winced at his reproachful gaze.

“What do you mean, how do I know?” said Ludwig. “Everyone in the Academy heard the rumor. Did you not know?”

It was a scandal between two school celebrities, after all. Though of course, as neither of them were celebrities for good reasons, the rumor did tend to distort the more it spread.

“There’s a... rumor about me?” Irina said, blinking in a fluster.

But that was impossible. There had been no one else around them that day, and Irina hadn’t told a soul. She’d even kept her mouth shut in front of her boyfriend, to whom she usually told everything. Even she knew that there were some things better left unsaid.

Indeed, it was neither Irina nor Ileanor who had started the rumor—but rather the students in the classroom who had seen them leaving together. It hadn’t taken long for the chatter to evolve from, “Where the heck are they going?” to “Maybe he’s asking her out” to “Are they together now?”

Irina, who was hearing about this for the first time today, visibly panicked in front of her boyfriend. She jumped to her feet and waved her hands wildly as she told him the truth.

“I turned him down, Ludwig. I already have you, you know that.”

Her face was so apologetic and glum that Ludwig couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Only those close enough to her would know that despite all her rowdiness, she was actually quite innocent and warm-hearted.

He lifted Irina up and sat her down on his lap. He had a naturally good physique, with the strength to match ever since he started immersing himself in martial arts classes, and lately he liked to carry Irina around from time to time.

“Is that true, Irina?” he said, pressing himself to her back as he raked his fingers down her red hair.

Irina Nordiak, the precious daughter of Marquess Nordiak and the famous tomboy of the Royal Academy. Just a century ago, this red hair had been an ominous symbol in the Kingdom of Kisen. Her grandmother had the same red hair, and even a high-standing noblewoman like her had dyed her hair and covered it up when she was young, a testament to the social landscape of that era. But Ludwig wondered whether people might have reconsidered their views if this adorable girl had been around during that time. Aside from the fact that this wavy red hair suited her beautifully...

He could just picture her indignantly yelling, Look, it’s not like hair can commit crime too! If they could just see her vehemently defending herself, they might have thought of her as a wild animal in need of attention and love, but certainly not an omen of evil.

“Be honest. Did you really turn him down?” Ludwig murmured, stroking her hair as he fought back a laugh.

Irina blushed at his touch, but that didn’t stop her from bristling with rage. “Of course! Obviously I should say no! Are you doubting me right now?” she demanded fiercely.

Now feeling cornered, Ludwig reluctantly said, “No, it’s just... Well, you have to admit he’s handsome.”

At his insecure comment, Irina frowned in bewilderment and tilted her head, unable to relate at all. “What do you mean? You look much better than him.”

“Are you joking right now?” Ludwig asked incredulously.

“I mean, sure, he looks fine. But he’s not my type.”

“Why not? At least Ileanor is...”

Ludwig trailed off and decided not to finish his sentence.

He was about to say that at least Ileanor was the son of a count, but that would have been an insult to Irina. Instead, he lovingly combed her scarlet hair and continued, “I heard pretty boys are popular in Imphenon these days. And on top of that, Ileanor is smart. He’s got a good personality too, and he can fight. Don’t girls like pretty guys with a story, the kind that can make you feel protected?”

Irina snorted.

That was precisely what made him not his type. Quite personally, Irina didn’t like it when boys were pretty. It was less about her own vanity, and more that she at least wanted to be better-looking than her partner. But a boyfriend who was prettier than her? Her pride would be too wounded to even walk alongside him.

No, what she preferred was someone masculine and burly, someone who looked like he could take a cow down with a single punch.

Irina solemnly turned to her boyfriend and confessed, “I like that you look like a pirate.”

Ludwig was thrown off guard.

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” he asked suspiciously.

“Is it... not?” Irina asked.

“No, it’s not.”

“All right...”

Since that day, Irina occasionally felt that Ileanor was following her around.

Her suspicions were confirmed the year after, at the start of the next semester, when Ileanor became the sixth student to join the Ilean class. The other five students all stirred when they saw the face of the one person who wasn’t supposed to be here, quietly entering the classroom.

These students were actually quite proud of learning Ilean, of going against the academic mainstream when everyone else learned Imphenese. It was a lonely sort of pride that could only be shared among the five of them, meaningless as it was.

Ileanor stepped into the classroom and looked around, then faintly smiled when he noticed Irina. He walked over to her without hesitation and pulled out the chair next to her. Irina shot him a quizzical look. “But you didn’t take the beginner course.”

Ileanor glanced at her as he took his seat, then faced forward again and replied, “No, I didn’t. But I thought I’d give this class a try.”

“Why?”

“I’m just interested.”

The response sounded like something she’d heard before.

What a strange boy, Irina thought, reminded once again of his oddity. He had an elegant and graceful stride, and yet he sometimes sat crookedly, just like now. And despite his shapely, ascetic features, he had a disquieting smile; a gaze that was polite and respectful, yet occasionally laced with contempt.

Irina wondered whether this dissonance could be due to his traumatic past, but she soon shook her head and tried not to think about it. She felt mean for appraising him like this when he was sitting right next to her.

Instead, she looked at him disapprovingly. She’d been intending to give him a piece of her mind for sitting here, but his blithe response had taken the fight out of her. Eventually, she began to brag about learning Ilean, all under the pretense of offering advice.

“You underestimate Ilean. I’m telling you, this class might mess up your grades.”

“Did it mess up yours, Irina?” Ileanor asked innocently.

Irina was momentarily speechless.

“Did you mess up badly?”

Ileanor apologized when Irina sullenly pursed her lips, but his eyes were twinkling with laughter as he kept his gaze forward. Annoyed by his indifference, Irina grumbled, “You really don’t listen, do you?”

He’s definitely weird. She rested her chin on her palm and pouted, then straightened up when the elderly Ilean teacher came in. When she noticed that Ileanor wasn’t moving, she asked disconcertedly, “Where’s your textbook?”

“I don’t have one yet. I registered for this class a bit late.”

Irina nodded in understanding, then dragged her desk closer to his and put her textbook in the middle. All the while, she never stopped running her mouth. By now, it was hard to tell whether she was advising him or just complaining.

“The intermediate course isn’t going to be easy. Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“Yes, I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t you work really hard to keep your grades up?”

“Not really.”

Oh, so that was him not even trying? Irina suddenly felt ashamed of herself. Her expression darkened as she glumly went on, “You think that grandpa looks all nice and easygoing, don’t you? Well, he is, but he can be strict too. The exams are hard, and he doesn’t show mercy with the grades. Damn it, why are you taking this class, seriously? You’re going to flunk it. It’s all over.”

She irritably flipped over the first page of her textbook, then bent down to flatten it. But her eyes were alight with anticipation, and it seemed that contrary to her words, she actually enjoyed this class.

“Anyway, bring your own textbook next time. He remembers that sort of thing,” she whispered.

As she leaned forward, her red hair cascaded down the sides of her face. Only then did Ileanor finally turn to stare at her. But he found it difficult to watch the nape of her fair neck for too long, so he lowered his dark blue eyes and smiled.

“All right. I will,” he said.