How to Survive at the Academy
chapter-225

Poisoned Chalice (6)

TL: TangSanFan

ED/PR: Tanthus

“I have mostly figured out what kind of man he is.”

By now, Ed’s humble camp seemed almost to be Sylvania Academy’s most essential facility – such was the growing impression.

Lortelle Keheln sat by the campfire, sipping her tea, and pondering her thoughts. It was a rare day off for her, and she had nagged Ed to join her at the festival, not in the slightest imagining that Princess Sella would appear at the camp.

As things stood, it seemed that nearly every VIP within Sylvania had set foot in Ed’s log cabin at least once. It was rather amusing, considering it was not as grand as the VIP lodgings like the Ophelius Hall.

“If it’s politically more meaningful to persuade rather than to oppose, then drawing him in may not be such a bad idea. However…”

“……”

“I hadn’t expected you to show up here, of all places.”

Princess Sella sat across the fire, her eyes narrowed as she gazed at Lortelle. Lortelle Keheln had sided with her during the tragedy at the Rothtaylor estate. She had eloquently offered to help her spirit away Ed Rothtaylor and use him for political gains.

Now, there she was, residing in the very camp of Ed Rothtaylor.

Princess Sella smiled with amusement as she spoke, “All those words you said to me back in the mansion, were they all lies to deceive me?”

Lortelle did not have an immediate response.

She understood the temperament of Princess Sella quite well.

“So it was all a ruse to protect an unconscious Ed Rothtaylor on behalf of the Elte Commerce Guild.”

The plot to deceive the princess had been exposed.

And the princess in question was Sella, who would ruthlessly punish those she opposed.

An ordinary person would break out in cold sweat faced with such a peril, for deceiving royals could lead to severe punishment, depending on their mood.

However, Lortelle was the kind to never panic. She had already noticed a shift in Sella’s view of Ed Rothtaylor.

Remembering this fact made it less difficult for her to wiggle out of the situation like a slippery snake.

“Indeed, I am actually an associate of Mr. Ed. I’ve been his aide for a long time.”

As far as tactics go, whose side one takes is critical.

At Rothtaylor Manor, she had pretended to side with Sella to aid Ed, and now in front of Sella, who came to win over Ed, she just had to pretend to be ‘subservient’ to Ed.

Princess Sella was a person who put great importance on status and social standing.

By demeaning herself as Ed’s lackey, Lortelle effectively stepped out of her direct concern.

No one gets angry at the pieces on a chessboard.

If Princess Sella’s focus turned towards the character of the man named Ed, Lortelle simply had to attach herself like a shadow and hide underneath. It could work out well for Ed, too.

“At the Rothtaylor estate, after the disaster, I had been dispatched in advance to prevent any unusual developments in case the situation turned sour. You could say, Princess Sella, that I am akin to a tool moving at Mr. Ed’s command.”

“… Given you’re sharing living quarters, you seem to have him under tight control.”

With a slight smile, Lortelle smoothly received her words.

As she was here to win over Ed, there was no need for her to complicate matters by provoking Lortelle.

Understanding all of the princess’s stances, Lortelle merely brushed off the accusation of insulting royalty. When it came to dealing with people, the young girl showed a remarkably delicate touch.

“There is a more personal reason for our shared residence, though.”

“Well, I need not concern myself with that man’s private life. I only require his influence and abilities. However…”

Princess Sella rested her chin on her palm, then narrowed her sharp eyes before continuing.

“So you claim to have the real power behind Elte Commerce Guild under your control. I heard that Persica has tried several times to take over the guild, but it seems all her efforts were in vain.”

“The judgement is yours, Princess Sella. As someone of lowly status, it’s not my place to question your discernment.”

“You truly are a wily fox, aren’t you?”

With a sly smile, Princess Sella quickly pegged Lortelle’s character.

“Useful as a strategist, but one can never know when you might stab them in the back. A person who has ascended the throne through betrayal will ultimately fall by it, don’t you think?”

Maintaining her regal poise, the princess made her position clear to the merchant girl of humble origin.

People like Balveron Elfellan are greedy cowards, their actions predictable.

But controlling someone like Lortelle is no easy feat; she bites when she sees a weakness, and overturns the board the moment there’s no reason to follow.

If you want such a person for your confidant, you must always be sharp, never giving them a chance to exploit any vulnerabilities.

“It’s like living with a tiger in your lap, that man.”

“To be considered a tiger by you leaves me at a loss for how to react.”

Usually, Lortelle would end the topic here and call for Ed.

Always cool and collected, she wouldn’t let emotion dictate her actions, especially in the presence of royalty.

Lortelle Keheln kept her composure even amidst the downfall of Sylvania Academy, swallowing once just to maintain her calm. Yet, there are always exceptions.

Everyone has sore spots that should not be prodded.

And there was only one situation where Lortelle Keheln, always cool and composed, would lose his composure – when Ed Rothtaylor was involved.

Was it fate or happenstance?… Princess Sella had precisely stepped on that landmine.

In other words, what Princess Sella implied to Lortelle was clear:

You are a beast who, given the chance, would ascend the throne even if it means striking Ed Rothtaylor from behind.

In your view, Ed is merely a stepping stone for your ambition, without a shred of camaraderie.

To Lortelle, being defined as such by Sella was deeply displeasing.

It wasn’t a performance, it was an assessment of Lortelle as she was.

Lortelle smiled faintly upon hearing her, but her temples throbbed with anger.

“Princess Sella.”

Her voice was as calm as ever.

“I don’t know how it sounds to you, but I hope you recognize that I will never stab Mr. Ed in the back.”

“Oh? It’s my first time to hear merchants talk of such romantic bonds. It’s more believable to hear that eagles are grazing.”

“What do you think, Princess Sella? Perhaps you are underestimating Mr. Ed Rothtaylor too much.”

It would be foolish to engage in a nerve-wracking confrontation with royalty.

The overwhelming gap in status and authority dictates the terms of engagement; Lortelle’s approach was to subtly scratch at the princess since she could do no more.

But provocation was precisely Lortelle’s specialty.

“Underestimating? Ha… If anything, I am being quite generous. Certainly, considering you’re nearing control over Elte Commerce Guild, you’re no ordinary individual. But if I can’t even subdue one single Duke, how could I ever aspire to be emperor of a nation?”

“Subdue… Certainly, one side might need to submit. It relates to the imperial throne, after all.”

“One side? You do speak interestingly.”

Princess Sella lifted her nose with a haughty laugh.

“A submission from me? Sorry, but I’ve always been in the position to make others submit.”

Such pride seemed to pierce the heavens away, and with it came matching power and lineage.

Lortelle looked up at Princess Sella and felt a bitter resentment growing within her.

An individual who had never clung to anyone or knelt in their long life.

Needlessly, she had become overly emotional.

Those who have never urgently needed anything have this in common; they delude themselves into thinking that everything is readily attainable. They believe that any exalted conviction can be easily shattered.

“Well, then I shall call Mr. Ed. Please have a seat by the fireside for a moment.”

But Lortelle Keheln knew all too well.

The answer Ed Rothtaylor would give to Princess Sella’s advances had already been predetermined.

* * *

“Apologies, but I intend to continue assisting Princess Phoenia.”

He didn’t even entertain the thought of prostrating immediately upon meeting, making a remorseful face and performing the rituals of a servant.

He was neither a commoner nor an average noble, but someone once housed within the continent’s foremost dukedom.

At the very least, he thought he would maintain basic decorum and treat her with due respect.

However, Ed, responding to Lortelle’s call and arriving by the campfire… was sloppily tucking his sweat-soaked shirt and gulping down cold water.

There was no trace of respect due to royalty.

Of course, explanations could be offered.

It wasn’t the imperial palace, but the remote island of Acken and within it, the Sylvania Academy. Far removed from central powers, it was a place deeply committed to scholarship’s virtues.

Given its educational environment with noble and commoner alike, status consciousness was quite diluted here.

Nevertheless, even here, personages such as a princess or a saint would receive special treatment regardless of it being Acken island. That’s the privilege of their status.

Nonetheless, Ed Rothtaylor crossed the fireside and set down his cup filled with cold water, without a semblance of subservience before royalty.

Always diligent at the riverbank, he had just come up from work. His attitude gave it away to some extent; he had no intention of being swayed by Princess Sella’s persuasion from the start, instead showing his position through his demeanor. Yet Sella scoffed at his manner.

“You yourself said it, that worthy of becoming the Emperor is indeed me. Even after the tournament ended, my name was held in high esteem,” Sella proclaimed.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Such a person is giving you a chance. You have seen it up close; Phoenia does not possess the makings of an Emperor.”

At this point, Lortelle’s expression betrayed surprise.

She had expected Sella to burst into a rage after Ed Rothtaylor’s indication of refusal.

But, unexpectedly, Sella remained calm and began to boast of her superiority.

“Many within the imperial court have already sided with me. Aside from that annoying Knight Commander who clings to Persica, it’s fair to say that most key figures support me.”

“An achievement befitting your abilities. With Princess Sella’s grace, that wouldn’t be too difficult.”

Ed’s face didn’t betray the slightest hint of loyalty, even as he praised Sella, something she did not appreciate.

“Don’t you understand my intent? I’m willing to overlook all the doubts I’ve had about you and stop attacking you in the imperial council meetings.”

“If you would do me such honor, I would be infinitely grateful.”

“Do you think this is without cost?”

“If you expect compensation, I will oblige to the extent possible, but I have no intention of taking sides in the struggle for the throne.”

“How strange indeed,” Sella retorted, her eyes sharp, arms crossed.

“To support someone in the power struggle implies you believe they are fit for the throne. If you truly think I can be the Emperor, then it’s only right for you to ally with me.”

“One cannot always be guided by reason alone. I understand that Princess Phoenia is unlikely to ascend the throne, yet I still choose to support her.”

“An explanation is due.”

“A politics that always looks down and bestows kindness, though beautiful on the surface, is a thorny path.”

At last, the full picture began to form in Princess Sella’s mind.

Phoenia is a hapless idealist, or so Sella believed.

Idealists blinded by their ideals perish chasing them. The world of power requires betrayal, conflict, killing if needed, taking, actively suppressing others to survive. Subtle schemes aren’t enough: one needs to be ruthlessly strategic.

“I intend to sustain that path. It is something that someone must do.”

Phoenia’s resilience was due to this man: calm, pragmatic, able to devise conflict and scheme when necessary, accepting and understanding Phoenia’s ideals, bridging reality with her vision.

Chasing ideals alone leads to disconnection from reality. That’s why someone who can hold on to that romanticism and tether it to reality is needed.

Initially, Sella had thought this man merely feigned loyalty to Phoenia, using her as a stepping stone to power…

But the man had proven to understand Phoenia deeply, intending to support her.

He’s a pillar, underpinning the very ideals Phoenia Elias Klonei held. Only with him, Phoenia could be more than an idealist chasing fantasies; she could strive for her ideals realistically.

If he had been just another seeking power through royal lineage, Sella could have easily manipulated him.

But a man so deeply intertwined with Phoenia’s ideals wouldn’t be swayed easily.

That was all there was to it.

If their paths diverge based on differing goals, then let it be; each to their own way.

Even if Sella herself believes she is suited to be the Emperor, if he continues to support Phoenia, then leave him to his choice.

Yet somehow, Sella’s eyes began to sparkle.

Lortelle, observing the situation, felt an internal jolt of alarm.

A steadfast man, loyally upholding his integrity. Capable and well-connected, yet unwavering in his support for Phoenia.

Sella’s expression made Lortelle realize why Phoenia spoke so fondly of him. Phoenia likely wanted to keep the nature of their relationship concealed.

Sella understood the thoughts crossing her mind reflected in her gleaming eyes.

“It’s probable best that you leave now. Staying too long at the camp isn’t pleasant; there are bugs, and the earthy smell isn’t fitting for your status.”

Some find exhilaration in plundering what belongs to others.

Like beholding a cherished treasure, Sella’s eyes flickered with a captivating light.

What stirred within her then was a base yet potent emotion, one born of a craving for plunder.

* * *

“Since childhood, Sella found joy in taking things from others,” Phoenia remarked, sitting on the royal residence terrace, accepting a cup of tea from Clair.

Having grown up together, Phoenia knew better than anyone about Sella and Persica.

Especially, Sella’s lofty pride was something Phoenia was all too familiar with, to the point of loathing.

The teddy bear, once cherished and carried by young Phoenia, was returned to her mutilated, redesigned in a way Sella claimed to be cuter, laughing gleefully as she hugged the toy.

Persica’s prized grimoire ended up in Sella’s library; her favorite maid became Sella’s servant.

Sella reigned tyrannically among her siblings, her voice always loudest, dominating people, claiming all she desired.

Once obtained, she’d quickly tire of them, casting them aside in an endless cycle.

Once ‘obtained’, she’d become bored swiftly. The joy from plunder was irreplaceable for Princess Sella.

― ‘At least during Sella’s visit, we must appear as though we are in a reliable and loyal relationship.’

― ‘How shall we do that?’

― ‘Nothing extraordinary. Even if it’s just an act… please stand by my side with belief and support. I’m not asking for much, just for the duration of the festival.’

Phoenia recalled the blond man nodding in agreement on this very terrace.

Recently ennobled and still disoriented, Yenika by his side; the man paused, chin propped in his hand, before giving a decisive nod.

― ‘That’s not difficult. Plus, originally…’

“Lord Elfellan has sent a letter. Shall I bring it now?”

“It seems their response came quicker than expected. Yes, please.”

Next to where Princess Phoenia placed her cup, a pile of scholar records and information about Ed Rothtaylor lay amassed.

At least for the duration of the festival, Ed and Phoenia needed to portray a deep mutual understanding and supportive sovereign-subject relationship.

A convincing act would ensure that Sella would bite the bait.

Hence, Phoenia revisited his academic records, reassessed his life story, listened to his thoughts—familiar yet revealing surprising facets.

Academy music echoed from a distance, the festivities ripening.

Though Phoenia rarely left the royal residence, the halt of routine life, the start of a deviation, was undeniably palpable.

Lifting the cup once again, Princess Phoenia sank into thought.

― ‘And originally… I have been supporting Princess Phoenia. I’m convinced that you will become the Emperor. The reasons are complex.’

― ‘…….’

― ‘So please, don’t worry too much. Princess Phoenia will make a fine ruler. Don’t dwell on what occurred between us.’

“Uttering unmeant words without a flicker of emotion.”

Truly.

She silently rehearses the man’s name, allowing the smooth cadence of Ed Rothtaylor to resonate naturally.

Her gaze shifts back to the distant academy landscape.

Still, the fervor of the festival swelled.

* * *

“You wish to see the Sage’s compendium?”

“Yes. I want to behold the records left by the great Sage Sylvania with my own eyes.”

“Hmm. A mere student request is unlikely to be granted. Perhaps if the principal or vice-principal were to make a special allowance…”

At the entrance to Triss Hall.

Aila Triss, steadfast-faced, grabs the coat of Professor Krayd, who is lying on a bench smoking and addresses him.

“Then I just need to convince the principal or vice-principal?”

“The document has been stolen before, its security stringent. They won’t grant permission easily. Madam Rachel will definitely object, and while Headmaster Obel might consider it, he hasn’t been seen lately, making an audience unlikely.”

Professor Krayd was already half-drunk, perhaps thrilled by the festival spirit though daytime still bright—an embarrassing sight.

“…Understood.”

Aila leaves the dazed Krayd on the bench, rolling up her sleeves, heading towards Triss Hall.