The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 889

Chapter 889: The Lens She Chose

As one could expect, various thoughts flooded her mind, and for a brief moment, she was forced to truly consider her situation.

She was standing right there, on the verge of deciding how she ought to treat this person.

Now, normally, that wouldn’t have been problematic. It was a decision people unconsciously made every day for nearly every encounter. But in this case, she had already interacted with him and had already formed her own impressions.

In fact, the entire situation existed because she had arrived at the wrong conclusion in the first place.

And yet, what was this?

Instead of properly learning from that very fresh mistake, she was once again on the brink of forming another opinion based on an observation she knew, without a doubt, was clouded by prejudice.

That realization forced a pause.

Because if she was going to judge him, then she needed to be honest with herself about the lens she was using.

Was she thinking as the unfortunate royal who had just uncovered elven involvement in the recent battle at Zone Four?

Was she thinking as a member of DG, sworn to treat every customer fairly and without discrimination?

Or better yet, was she thinking with the same graceful mind her friends had used when they evaluated her and the Orcs?

At this point, the answers were painfully obvious.

It wouldn’t have been difficult to disguise her judgment as a leader’s natural wariness toward threats to her people. She could have wrapped it in responsibility, duty, and vigilance.

But she was self-aware enough to know that doing so would be nothing more than a load of crap.

So she stopped herself short.

She stared at the man in front of her, who was looking back at her with wide, watery, and utterly googly eyes.

See? Even now, the nice-smelling soap looked like he was on the verge of crying at any second.

"..."

"..."

Honestly, if this was the kind of enemy the elves were preparing to deploy against her and her people, as shameful as it was to admit, she could see how it might work.

Because who would ever expect ruin to come from something like this?

Then again, setting aside pretty privilege, Princess Kira’s mind was still capable of moving quickly when it mattered. In the span of time it would usually take her to fling someone across a room, she had already laid out several important points.

First, would she have liked it if her current guildmates judged her for the deeds of her ancestors?

Absolutely not.

Second, did she dislike him before learning that he was an elf?

No. Not particularly.

Third, if she suddenly changed her attitude toward him, not because of anything he had done, but because of his ears, then what, exactly, would differentiate her from the rebels she despised?

"..."

And lastly, for someone who looked like he didn’t even want to be an elf at this very moment, would it really be proper to scorn him for that?

Another resounding no.

Haaay!

Her thoughts churned and folded in on themselves until they finally snagged on something. Or rather, someone.

Prince Silarion.

A respectable elf.

And just like that, as another unfortunate gush of blood streamed from this man’s nose, there was no longer any way to avoid the association with the ancient prince everyone had failed.

That was when her resolve crystallized.

If it turned out that they would have to battle because googly eyes was somehow the greatest villain of them all, then she would take him down herself.

After all, she was Princess Muscle Muscle.

But until the day they could stand in a fair head-to-head, without the soap bar looking like he might be claimed by the gods before they even exchanged blows, she would find ways to help instead.

__

With a mind firmly set on ensuring that no wandering critters were lurking nearby, Princess Kira had gone out of her way to gently invite, or more accurately, coerce them into waiting while someone checked on the frail soap.

Naturally, this took a bit of effort.

What the secretive duo experienced when Theo first arrived, however, was merely the first result of the Orcish Princess’s determined intervention.

Princess Kira knew better than to act alone beyond this point. While having the patient checked with a medical wand was a complete non-issue and practically standard protocol, anything beyond that needed to go through the others.

Yet, surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, even after she thoroughly explained everything that had happened including how she had once again had an issue with mistaken identity, the response she received was approval for Theo to check on the patient first.

Yes! She was right!

More than anything else at this moment, this soap was a patient.

That was really the right decision!

Others would have said there was no visible indication in his posture. But for Theo, who had seen a lot of patients, he was more than aware that nothing could be as loud as quiet resignation.

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