The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 1138

Chapter 1138: Like an Open Book

IMPORTANT NOTICE: Thank you all for your patience, and sorry about that blunder! I’ve fixed Chapter 1137 now. <3

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"What?"

Jax blinked, wondering why everyone seemed so quiet as they stared at him.

It was Princess Kira who finally responded.

"Before the show aired..." she began slowly. "Did you already know he didn’t like them?"

Frankly speaking, she hadn’t even gotten that far in her own thinking.

Now that she reflected on it, none of the cadets had specifically asked Lord Killian about his personal opinion in the matter. They had simply panicked and just ran with what they heard.

Which was admittedly embarrassing, especially considering how she had also made controversial decisions about her love life. Shouldn’t she know better than to assume things from the get-go?

But sure enough, Jax, who always seemed to know more than he let on, was right.

They really should’ve asked first.

Had she exercised the same grace they’d given her, then she too would’ve known just as much as this guy and avoided making hasty conclusions.

However, before the Orcish Princess could praise Jax for his consideration, the redhead looked puzzled and said,

"Ah, no. I only heard about it now."

"...What?"

"But hasn’t he been saying it the whole time?"

The room somehow became even quieter.

This time, even Killian looked up from where he sat.

Across the table, Luca blinked in confusion.

"Oh, but big brother Killian hasn’t really said anything..."

"Huh?"

Jax looked genuinely perplexed.

"But he’s been making that face the entire time."

Kyle, the younger brother of said Killian, raised a brow but wisely kept his thoughts to himself.

Clinging to his backside, Ollie immediately asked,

"Making that face?"

Jax nodded.

"The same face he makes for burpees."

"..."

"..."

"And even if he said he liked it in his own words," Jax continued thoughtfully, "wouldn’t that be unbelievable when that’s not even close to the face he makes when he likes something?"

The redhead tilted his head slightly as he looked toward Killian.

Meanwhile, the young official, whose chin had previously been resting on his hand, found himself slowly straightening in his seat.

For once, the expression on his face wasn’t exasperation.

It was bewilderment.

Then again, Killian wasn’t alone in that reaction.

Across the room, one Imperial Crown Prince looked equally intrigued.

After all, Xavier—a man whose signature expression was distinctive enough to qualify as intellectual property—knew better than anyone what it was like to maintain nearly the same expression for everything.

So could Jax actually read Killian like an open book?

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Believe it or not, Killian Nox found himself momentarily praying to all that was holy that no one would ask Jax the most fundamental questions imaginable.

Questions such as how.

And, perhaps more terrifyingly, what.

Because while everyone else seemed content to stare at the redhead after that outrageous declaration, Killian himself very much wanted answers too.

How did he know?

What exactly had he seen? Just what gave it away?

Not that the official was under any illusion that Jax had somehow magically acquired information from the comforts of his bed when they hadn’t even met since the broadcast aired. In fact, the entire reason everyone was discussing this now was that the redhead had only just heard about it.

And while it was good that he apparently wouldn’t have to explain his thoughts on the matter to Jax, something he now realized he’d been worrying about for absolutely no reason, he still found the situation rather alarming.

Killian was well aware that he was more relaxed in the dungeon space than he was elsewhere, but even then, maintaining a relatively unreadable expression of exasperation had long since become second nature to him.

It might not have made him appear quite as intimidating as his father or some of the older members of the Imperial Family, but it was practical. More importantly, it was sustainable.

Ever since learning the reality behind the prominent positions they were expected to hold, he had made a habit of carefully controlling what people were allowed to see.

If their enemies didn’t know what truly mattered to him, then they couldn’t use it for leverage.

If they didn’t know what would make him run instead of walk, then they couldn’t threaten it.

And if they couldn’t distinguish between what could really make him tick and what amounted to nothing more than a passing inconvenience, then all the better.

The less people understood what truly moved him, the safer everyone around him would be.

That had been the logic.

It was a habit so ingrained that even now he rarely thought about it consciously.

Which was why this entire situation felt ridiculous.

Sure, he was admittedly more expressive around people he trusted. But being read through a holographic projection?

That sounded absurd.

Even more absurd was the possibility that Jax’s earlier confidence stemmed from the simple certainty that Killian had absolutely no desire to even see those twins’ shadows, much less entertain their public declarations.

And somehow, that realization only led to more questions.

Did Jax arrive at that conclusion instinctively?

Did he simply assume?

Or had he actually been paying attention all this time?

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