The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 918

Chapter 918: Loss of Composure

"..."

"..."

Curtis could’ve sworn the light flickered inside what had to be the most awkward room on the capital planet today.

It didn’t matter if the flicker was a mere figment of his imagination, but with how long he had been staring at the same fixture, he was probably bound to start seeing his great ancestors waving at him from the other side.

Honestly, that would have been preferable.

Anything was better than looking to the side. Or worse, straight ahead.

Because straight ahead meant meeting the eyes of a group of cadets who were staring at him with a fervor that felt wildly inappropriate for the situation.

Blink.

Blink.

It was so silent and so painfully awkward that Curtis could practically hear it every time Young Lord Luca Kyros blinked.

Unable to take it anymore, Curtis finally opened his mouth.

"Your Highness—"

"Your Highness—"

He froze.

To his left, Eden had spoken at the exact same time.

A collective gasp rippled across the room.

Several cadets clutched at each other.

Princess Tharkira audibly inhaled as though she had just witnessed a divine alignment of the stars.

Both Eden and Curtis cleared their throats at the same time.

Curtis closed his eyes.

Of course they did.

When he opened them again, he wordlessly turned to Eden and conveyed, with nothing but the flattest look imaginable:

"Not helping."

The compressed demon rolled her eyes at him as if she had done nothing wrong.

And perhaps, technically, she hadn’t.

But that was hardly the issue.

What exactly were they doing there in front of these young cadets in the first place?

Ideally, nothing much.

They had merely been called in for questioning because Deputy Officer Curtis Karswell, noble descendant of a long lineage of upstanding vassals, had very nearly punched the living daylights out of one dreadful spawn of House Orell.

If not for Princess Tharkira meeting his fist with her own and laughing loudly about how he had always known how to greet her properly, Tavian would have been injured.

And it wouldn’t have been pretty.

The force behind Curtis’s swing had not been meant as a warning.

It had been meant to end something.

He might have even sent him to the afterlife after he dared utter the most disgusting thing Curtis had ever heard leave Tavian’s mouth.

It had started innocently enough.

Tavian had been trailing behind them, speaking casually as if he had all the time in the world.

"You know," he had said, tone light, almost thoughtful, "it’s funny how things turn out."

Curtis had ignored him. He’d actually been ignoring him since earlier, but the eyesore remained determined, even though Eden hadn’t dignified him with a glance since they left that corridor.

But Tavian just continued.

"I’ve been thinking. About the Harcrests. About how unfortunate everything was."

Curtis’s jaw had tightened.

Tavian’s voice had taken on that falsely reflective quality he liked to use when presenting himself as magnanimous.

"If circumstances were different," he had added lazily, "if Eden were to be with someone like me, I’d be inclined to let bygones be bygones."

He had smiled.

"As the person involved, I feel like it would be much easier to show everyone I’ve moved on from the incident. If it’s like that, then don’t you think those pressuring her family would ease everything?"

A pause.

"I’ve never been one to hold grudges."

Curtis had stopped walking.

And even if there were, he didn’t get to his position because he was the type to hide behind excuses. He ended up working for the Marshal because he had the stupid tendency to be upright.

So as expected, all he could do was own up to it.

Curtis straightened, shoulders squared the way they always did when facing a superior officer.

"As a commissioned member of the military, I acknowledge that my actions constitute simple assault, Your Highness," he said evenly. "There was no imminent threat to my life, nor was there a lawful order that justified the use of force. I acted out of personal emotion."

His voice did not waver.

"I will accept the appropriate disciplinary action as determined by command."

The room remained silent.

Curtis kept his head lowered.

It was easier that way. And with the Empire’s heir making his imperial position known in front of all these people, he already knew how screwed he was.

But just as Eden shifted beside him, clearly about to speak, the Imperial Crown Prince cut in smoothly.

"And you," Xavier said calmly, "it wouldn’t be wise to say you’d take on his punishment when you also have something going on for yourself."

Curtis turned his head slightly.

Eden, who had already parted her lips, paused.

Her lips pressed into a thin line before she nodded. "Apologies, Your Highness."

"You’re supposed to at least get clearance for what you did to that clown, aren’t you? At the very least, a notification prior to the act," Xavier continued, one brow lifting.

Eden’s face scrunched.

The Prince was not wrong.

But it wasn’t as though she had woken up this morning planning to end the day under review.

And technically, she had asked Curtis, an authority figure, for assistance.

It might not have been in the form of a neatly filed report with bullet points and signatures, but who in their right mind would submit a step-by-step plan that involved covert terminal cloning and an excessive amount of making out?

Xavier exhaled slowly.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with these two idiots. For people who had always done well for themselves, they just couldn’t help but turn into putty when dealing with things related to each other.

What were they even thinking?