Chapter 26
After stopping Cyril's rampage and returning to her dorm room, Monica had finished writing the report she was to submit to Louis by the time dawn had fully broken.
Back when she lived in a mountain cabin, staying up all night had been an everyday occurrence, but she had been keeping regular hours lately, and now her head felt heavy.
Monica went to class on unsteady legs, received another critique of her hairstyle from Lana, and fought off sleep through her lessons. When they were over, she dragged her feet toward the student council room.
It seemed no one had arrived at the student council room yet. Apparently, Monica was the first one there today.
Following Cyril's instructions, Monica gave the student council room a quick cleaning and replenished the supplies, then opened the ledger.
Normally, seeing numbers would clear her mind, but now they would not register at all.
(...Ah, right. I used a lot of magic yesterday, so... I'm low on sugar.)
Monica paid little attention to eating and always consumed only the bare minimum.
For breakfast, she had one piece of bread left over from dinner and some coffee. For lunch, she had the nuts she had brought with her and water. This was usually enough, but on days when she used a lot of magic, it was not.
Casting magic used an enormous amount of energy. That was why so many magicians were said to have a sweet tooth.
Monica rummaged through her pockets for something to eat, but she had already finished all her nuts at lunch, so there was nothing left.
She told herself she only had to hold out a little longer, until the student council work was done... but Monica lost her battle with sleep and slumped forward onto the desk.
＊ ＊ ＊
By the time Monica had fallen asleep with her face on the ledger and begun breathing softly, the door to the student council room opened.
The person who had opened it was the vice president, Cyril Ashley.
As the second person to arrive at the student council room, he noticed Monica slumped over her desk and drew his eyebrows together sharply.
He opened his mouth to yell at her... and then closed it again.
"..."
He unconsciously quieted his footsteps as he approached the desk and looked down at Monica.
──A scrawny little brat.
Her tiny, painfully thin body hardly looked like that of a seventeen-year-old girl.
Her complexion was always pale, and her eyes, which appeared brown or green depending on the light, were always timidly lowered.
She had none of the elegance or beauty expected of a noblewoman. She was an ordinary, boring girl who could be found anywhere.
Cyril stared down at Monica's right hand, still gripping a quill.
At Serendia Academy, gloves were part of the uniform. Most of the female students wore custom-made gloves ordered for themselves, with lace or ribbons adorning the edges. Monica's gloves, however, were plain white.
The gloves seemed a little too large for her, with some extra fabric hanging loose. That was how small her hand was. Like a child's.
...
Cyril gently slipped the quill from Monica's hand and returned it to the pen stand.
As the quill was removed, the strength left Monica's right hand, and her fingers stretched limply across the desk.
As if to confirm just how small it was, Cyril covered Monica's right hand with his own right hand...
"Oh, Cyril. You're here already?"
The instant he heard Felix's voice behind him, Cyril sprang back from the desk like a grasshopper.
"Your Highness, this isn't what it looks like! This little brat was taking a nap in the sacred student council room, so I was only going to jolt her awake! Why, you little brat, wake up already!!"
With his right hand held awkwardly high, Cyril patted Monica's head over and over.
Monica had been slumped over the desk, but she sat up while mumbling sleepily and looked up at Cyril with eyes still heavy with drowsiness.
"...Ashley-sama?"
"Hmph! What's with that vacant face? You're in the presence of His Highness! Sit up straight!"
"...9129, 14771, 23900, 38671, 62571, 101242, 163813..."
"Speak like a human being!!"
Cyril seized Monica by the head and shook her vigorously. Monica gazed intently up at his face... then gave him a floppy smile.
"...You're not cold... Thank goodness."
Cyril's dark-blue eyes widened, and the hand shaking Monica came to a stop. His hand reached unconsciously toward the brooch at his collar.
Cyril's mouth opened and closed as he tried to say something... when Felix's hand reached in from the side and popped a cookie into Monica's mouth.
Still half asleep, Monica munched on the cookie, crunching away.
Felix pushed the cookie, which was gradually shrinking from one edge, farther into Monica's mouth, then took out another cookie and brought it to her lips.
When she noticed the cookie pressing gently against her lips, Monica began nibbling the second one, still half asleep.
"Interesting. Her mouth keeps moving even while she's half-asleep."
"Um, Your Highness...?"
"Would you like to try, Cyril?"
In a tone that sounded as though he were inviting Cyril to play with a pet, Felix asked. Cyril shook his head and said, "I think I'll pass."
When Felix reached for a third cookie, Monica's head lolled, and her eyes opened just a little.
Looking thoroughly as though she had just woken up, Monica rubbed her eyes and mumbled something unintelligible.
At that moment, Monica was thinking about the report she had written through the night.
Writing reports was one of the tasks Monica was extremely bad at.
Thinking only about not getting scolded by Louis, Monica saw the young man shouting in front of her blur into Louis Miller.
...which was why she said:
"Congratulations on your wife's pregnancy..."
"Whose wife are you talking about?!"
As Cyril shouted, Felix said mildly,
"Cyril, who is the other party? You have to take proper responsibility, you know."
"Ah, Your Highness!? No, that's not it! It's a misunderstanding! This little brat is just sleep-talking nonsense...!"
Cyril shouted with bloodshot eyes, Felix looked delighted, and Monica was still half asleep.
Neil, the fourth person to arrive at the student council room, hovered anxiously around the entrance with a troubled look on his face, but no one noticed him.