7

The prince took a brief stroll through the garden after dinner, then returned to his chambers to await audience with the king.

In the meantime, of course, the princess remained in her room.

I watched her, quiet and still, sipping water after her walk, when she finally noticed my gaze and looked over.

"You're being dreadfully cautious, aren't you? Worried a little bird might fly off?"

"More worried you'll stab the prince than that he’ll run off."

"Oh, my, my—only the prince may pierce or be pierced. We girls don’t even have the tools, now do we?"

"Dammit, don’t say that kind of thing!"

Ugh, what is this? I’m trying to be serious here, and every single thing she says comes back with a double meaning! I’m starting to feel ridiculous, standing here with a face like a fool, trying to be on guard while she keeps throwing innuendos like pebbles.

But hold on, me. This is the princess’s plan. She’ll slip up the moment I start feeling silly and let my guard down. So keep it together, all right?

“So, what’s next? You were talking out in the garden earlier, weren’t you?”

I’d thought she might’ve had something in mind, given how we’d been chatting during our stroll. Turns out I was right—just not in the way I thought.

She nodded once, setting her teacup back on the table.

“Yes, we ended up agreeing it’s more comfortable indoors. So I’m planning to spend the afternoon relaxing inside, playing games.”

“Games? Like the game hall?”

The castle’s game hall had it all—board games, something like billiards, even arcade-style games you’d find in a proper game parlor.

I could probably waste an entire day just playing there. Sure, it’d be rough without friends… but if I invited Ritz or Carine from the squad, they’d probably come along without a second thought.

“No, we’re starting here. We promised to share our favorite books with each other, you see. Lord Ald, you seem quite fond of reading, don’t you?”

“I heard you’ve been reading since you were young—always a bit frail, weren’t you?”

The albino’s influence made the skin even more delicate. Living in a country where snow reflected light like a blade must’ve been brutal.

Hardly ever able to step outside, really. No wonder he became such a bookworm.

“So just wait here for the prince to arrive.”

“Understood. Then I’ll go get something to eat while I still can.”

“Yes.”

And just like that—my lunch finally happened.

Audience probably won’t take more than an hour. Add in changing clothes and such, maybe an hour and a half.

Gotta eat quick and get out before things get messy.

I waved at the princess who waved me off with a smile, and left her room.

The castle’s mess hall was packed, just like I figured.

Right now, the prince’s guards can’t get through to the audience chamber, so they’re free—plus the princess is staying put in her room—so all the soldiers pour in at once for lunch.

The mess hall’s split between noble and common soldiers. The noble side’s got waitstaff and full-course meals, naturally. The common side? More like a university cafeteria.

You order at the counter, grab your food right away, then pay at the register in the back.

The food’s no fancy stuff—mostly fried things and steaks, the kind that fill a soldier’s belly and keep his strength up.

And today’s star dish was fried rice.

In this world, bread’s the usual staple, sure—but rice exists, too, of course. Thanks to that, fried rice, risotto, paella, all that sort of thing, isn’t hard to come by. Still, as expected, white rice was nowhere to be found. Well, that’s just how it goes.

And this batch of fried rice? It’s got the leftover roast beef from this afternoon’s meal—cut up and tossed in, just like that.

Can’t pass that up.

But normally, the food counter’s always empty. Today, though, it’s a snake-like line stretching all the way back. Standing in that queue? Guaranteed lunch is missed.

What to do, what to do—just when I’m scratching my head, a voice calls out from the tables.

“Eld-kun, over here!”

Look up—Ange’s already saved my seat.

And there, of course, are two bowls of fried rice.

Heaven. It’s heaven.

“Ange, what’s with that?”

Two bowls of fried rice in front of Ange. But as you can see, today’s rice is lined up in a row—should be one per person, naturally.

“Asked the cook to save two for me. Being on good terms pays off, huh!”

“When did you even—!?”

“I help out in the kitchen sometimes, when everyone’s making night snacks. She lets me use the space. This is my thanks.”

“So that’s how it is. Nice work, Ange.”

“Hmph, make sure you show proper gratitude!”

“Thank you, thank you. Well then—dig in.”

I gaze up at Ange, chest puffed out, and grab my spoon.

The fried rice, made with the finest meat—still tastes like heaven.

“Say, Ange, where were you just now? You weren’t with the others, were you?”

“I’m helping in the storage bay. You know, after Eld’s machine broke down.”

“Ah, so the spare parts arrived already?”

Thanks to that last runaway incident, my machine’s head camera got completely smashed.

The thing we’d just managed to fix—now it’s broken again. Orell and the others are crying as they patch it back together.

Sure, they did send over some spare parts from the mass-production crew, so that helped.

“Probably finished by tomorrow, I think. Just a head swap, and Karine said we can handle the test run ourselves.”

“Huh. Well, I wouldn’t touch it anyway…”

A long, heavy sigh slips out.

I only ever piloted the Abnomyle for a few minutes, and even then, my heart still feels empty. Worse, the little I did pilot it? Now I can’t stop wanting to move the Armunale.

Can’t we just wrap this war up already?

“Any rumors about how the front’s looking?”

The info that makes it down here’s kept to a bare minimum—probably because the princess is watching us too closely. All we get are things like, “There was a skirmish,” or “Some unit took casualties.” That’s it.

Where exactly are they fighting now? How far have they pushed back—or are they being pushed in? What about supplies? Personnel? None of the real questions get answered.

By this point, you start hoping the maids’ gossip might have something useful.

“Hmm… not really heard much. But the situation’s not changing much, I think? They’re still holding the line at the base, from what I gather. Feels like we’re just waiting for the mass-produced units, kind of.”

“Numbers have their own kind of strength.”

Yeah, that’s probably the fastest way to settle it. Especially since, from what I’ve heard about the princess, the king seems to want hundreds of soldiers more than one hero.

So if they start seriously rolling out mass-produced versions, they might actually cut back on the Armunale unit! Not that I’d let that happen—no way! I’ve got nothing to fight back with right now, though...

“Ah, and the tech team said they’ve figured out a few things about the Avilabomb. I only heard Orell talking about it, but apparently, you can barely squeeze in a little bomb at the tip and a pilot’s seat—just enough to get it flying. They were saying ten of them together could lift an Armunale? That’s pure nonsense. Orell clocked them with his fist, he did.”

“What kind of nonsense is this, tech department...”

Well, honestly, the Avilabomb’s performance? I kinda figured it’d turn out like this.

Just having the Sefirajenereitor and Magia Liquid won’t get us past certain limits—besides, flying through the air? That’s still mostly guesswork, isn’t it? In this world, you could say flight tech’s still in its cradle. If you’re lucky, you’ve got something like a hanglider. Probably haven’t even figured out lift properly yet.

“So, just stay on guard for now, I guess. Nothing really stands out as needing special care.”

Even if the math says Armunale can fly—well, that just means it *can* fly, nothing more.

Avilabomb’s got nothing to do with flying, really. It’s just about blasting something far, using engine power. Feels more like a cannon than anything else.

Even if we did manage to launch Armunale, tactically it’d be worth nothing. You’d be flying far out, no backup from allies, stuck with no fuel and heading straight into enemy territory. And even if you tried to sneak in, they’d spot you the moment you arrived.

You’d be grounded before you even landed. Anyone who tried to pull off such a reckless plan would have the pilot crew running for the hills. And in the end, we’d lose the generator—big loss.

“Rumor has it, that’s about it? Oh—Armunale’s not involved, but there’s talk the prince who’s coming now? He’s got a thing for maids. A girl with a room assigned to her said he’s been staring at his own clothes all day.”

A palace like this—especially one handling a prince from another country—would have staff sharp enough to notice where a prince’s eyes linger, no doubt.

So that maid’s words must be true.

And she brought up the maid outfit to me, too. Probably not just a rumor.

“Just so you know, he’s a guest of state. Keep the gossip to a minimum.”

“Got it.”

With that warning, we hurried through lunch.

Hustling down the hall, we knocked on the door.

The maid opened right away and led us in.

“Sorry I’m a bit late—”

I’d been chatting with Ange while eating, so we’d fallen behind schedule. There was still time before the prince arrived, but given the princess’s preparations, I might’ve been a little late after all. I started to bow, then froze mid-motion.

Oh, just in time—back exactly where you should be. Now then, I worked hard on this, you know. Think it suits you?

She strikes a pose—right hand behind her head, left on her hip, like a proper princess.

A black sleeveless top with frilly straps. The skirt’s packed with frills, soft and airy, flaring out into a mini flare.

Just ankle-high, those single socks were like showing off bare feet.

The shoes I’m wearing are simple black ones—just like the maids’.

And that’s the whole thing—here’s the real problem. The apron dress covering the entire outfit? Definitely a maid’s.

No matter how you look at it, she’s a miniskirted knight.

Is this the prank you pulled? That’s not even a prank! You’re lucky it’s not an international incident!

Change clothes—right now! Just do it, now!

"Oh, I put so much effort into this! I have to show it to Lord Ald so he can give me his thoughts!"

"You can't possibly get away with that! What on earth are you thinking?! Do you even understand what that outfit means?!"

Mini-skirted maid. It’s a real thing in this world—no denying that.

But it’s the context that’s the problem.

The context? Well, most of the time, it’s worn in the lower town’s… well, you know.

If a princess shows up like that to greet a prince, it’s guaranteed to piss him off. Worst case, he might even call off the engagement.

And just like that—suddenly—it clicks.

The princess isn’t trying to get married.

Once the betrothal’s official, the king’ll send her off to the other country straightaway. And then—poof—she’d lose all control over the plans she’s been making here.

That’s why I’m planning to make them break the engagement first.

Fufu, you’ve finally figured it out, huh. All these maids here— they’re all my understanders. That’s why they cooperated so nicely.

“Caught completely off guard, huh?”

I’d been sure the prince would pull some trick or other.

I’d been watching out for something like swapping out all the prince’s clothes in his room—no telling what he might try—but I never thought he’d use me…

“So you’re not even thinking about changing?”

Yes, this match. If things go badly, I’ll need to grow distant from Lord Aldo—only then can I buy myself a little more time.

"No, but that—"

Your Highness, Master Ald has arrived.

The moment I tried to get myself to believe it all, the prince showed up—just as bad a time as ever.

The princess cut me off before I could say a word, waved me aside—now there’s nothing left for me to do. I shuffled to the wall, face sour, waiting for the prince to walk in.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He stepped into the room with a smile—then froze, the grin still plastered on his face.

His attendants stared at the princess just as dumbfounded. Well, fair enough. She’s standing there in full—well, you know—like that…

The first to snap out of it was the prince’s butler.

Fists clenched, face flushed crimson. He’s furious—no doubt about it. Veins bulging on his forehead like they’re about to snap. Mouth opens, then snaps shut again, teeth grinding, trying to hold it in.

It’s easy enough to yell here—but this marriage wasn’t just some whim. The duchy wanted the kingdom’s Armunale tech. They won’t let it go easily.

And the prince—

“Wonderful.”

Said it while dripping blood from his nose.

“P-Prince!?!”

No one else could see him like that. So I called out right away, letting the attendants know something was wrong.

The prince seemed to realize, then, that this was the first time he’d ever bled from the nose.

Stammering a bit, he muttered, “Excuse me,” and left the room with the others.

We stood there, staring after him, dazed.

“Princess… was this really all right?”

“…Honestly, it’s nothing like I expected.”

“He really did say ‘wonderful,’ didn’t he?”

Guess I wasn’t imagining things after all.

And right away, the prince comes back into the room. His expression isn’t the gentle smile from before—no, it’s a full-blown grin. He grabs the lady’s hand without a pause, talking fast, buzzing with excitement.

“T-that outfit… it’s the very first one worn by Lady Knight Teela, isn’t it!? I mean, it’s incredible—how could it be this perfectly recreated!?”

“Um… Prince Aldo?”

Even the lady herself looks utterly baffled by Aldo’s reaction. She’s clearly not sure what’s going on.

But I get it.

As a gearhead who’s devoured more anime than I can count, I’ve picked up a thing or two. And judging by what I know, this conversation’s not about fashion. No. The prince isn’t seeing a maid outfit. He’s seeing a cosplay. A hero’s costume from a story.

And he’s been known to drool over maid outfits—so much so people whisper about it.

So yeah. The conclusion’s clear.

The white prince is a fan—no, a full-blown nerd, deep in the rabbit hole!

“I’d wondered, since you like reading… I didn’t know Lady Ines had read Tiela too. I’m especially fond of the epic battle scene in volume three, between the villain knight and the hero. But which part do you like best, Your Highness? Probably the part where she first awakens as a princess knight—those early struggles, right? I get it! After she wakes up, the story really picks up—fast, thrilling, full of momentum. But that whole grind before? That’s what gives Tiela her depth, her real character. To understand that… you’re a true fan, Lady Ines! My attendants never get it. It’s been lonely, you know?”

The prince had taken full control of the conversation—no, more like he’d just started talking nonstop. The mask of the dashing nobleman had completely slipped off.

His attendants looked slightly flustered, their expressions twitching. Judging by their faces, they’d probably hoped the prince’s otaku tendencies would stay hidden. Well, “Princess Knight” does sound a bit too on the nose, doesn’t it? Must’ve read some deep stuff. I wonder if I can borrow one of those books someday?

The princess’s meticulously planned breakup strategy—crushed in one blow by the truth about the prince being an otaku.

Result? The matchmaking went perfectly. In fact, he said he’d come back again. Probably won’t be long before he drops by for a visit. Next time, I bet he’ll bring a whole pile of his favorite books.

Next time…

Laira joined the Elshard Mercenary Company. But it was a man’s world there.

In a world grimy with sweat and stink, Layra kept her eyes on the prize—plowing forward, every step, under the weight of men’s stares.