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A little earlier, right after Ekaterina had run off from Aleksei’s office—

During the short break after the first afternoon class, Aleksei rested his elbow on the desk, covering his eyes with his hand, and let out yet another sigh.

The previous class had been a disaster. He’d been completely absent-minded, unable to answer even when called on by the teacher—he hadn’t even registered what was being asked. The exasperated teacher had finally said, “That’s enough,” leaving him in stunned silence. Since his enrollment, Aleksei had always maintained flawless conduct in class. To him, this was an unforgivable failure.

At that moment, a tall male student appeared beside him.

“Hey, Duke. What’s with you today? Something happened?”

The boy’s voice was full of genuine curiosity. He had fiery red hair, golden eyes, a tall frame, and a muscular build—Nikolai Krymov, heir to an count house.

Nikolai had a straightforward, open personality. Unlike the others, who treated Aleksei with polite distance or even avoidance, Nikolai spoke to him as casually as he did to anyone else.
The Magic Academy had no class reshuffling; the same group studied together for all three years. Aleksei knew some people called him “Duke” behind his back, mocking how he managed ducal affairs even as a student. But the only one who called him that to his face was Nikolai.
He hadn’t scolded Nikolai for it—partly because the Jurnova family owed a debt to the Krymovs—but even after inheriting his title, Aleksei had found that hearing “Duke” in Nikolai’s deep, friendly voice no longer felt like a mockery of his rank, but rather like a name that belonged only to him.

In his heart, Aleksei thought Nikolai was his exact opposite. Where Aleksei’s mere presence made the air tense, Nikolai’s brought warmth and ease.

And right now, Aleksei was too weary to maintain his usual composure. The words slipped out.

“…I made my little sister cry.”
“What?”

Nikolai blinked, wide-eyed.

“Wait, that’s what’s got you down? C’mon, little sisters cry all the time, even when nothing’s wrong. Next thing you know, I’m somehow the bad guy, my old man or my mom whacks me one, and that brat’s sticking her tongue out at me from behind them.”

Apparently, he had a sister too—and by the end, it had turned into a rant.

It was a bit strange hearing a count’s son call his parents “old man” and “mom,” or casually mention being “whacked,” but the Krymovs were special. Their family possessed secret techniques for breeding and training hybrid horses born from magical beasts. While most nobles left even governance to their stewards, the Krymov head personally worked on his vast ranch and was known for delivering foals himself during the birthing season. His wife, born a marquis’ daughter, had been such a horse enthusiast that she’d practically forced her way into marriage—and had been praised by the former countess as a “rare talent.”

Then, as if remembering something, Nikolai said, “Oh, right.”

“I think your sister came by earlier. The pretty girl with indigo hair, violet-blue eyes—that’s the one, right? She looks so grown-up, I almost thought she wasn’t a first-year. Pale as porcelain and delicate, like she might snap if you touched her. At first, she seemed a bit intimidating, but when I told her where you were, she thanked me so politely. She had this… shine about her. Grace, I guess? Yeah, that’s it. Sorry, but compared to her, my sister’s practically a monkey.”

Hahaha; He laughed heartily.

“She’s already one of the most talked-about beauties among the new students—they call her the *Blue Rose Princess* or something. There’s another one they call the *Cherry Blossom Princess.* Anyway, what did you even do to make such a graceful little sister cry? You clearly adore her.”
“…There were issues with her choice of friends. The classmate she brought as a friend was… not of an appropriate social rank.”

“Hoho?”

Nikolai’s tone deepened with interest.

“Let me guess. You told her to stop associating with that person, and she cried about it? Well, I get that—being the duke of Jurnov, you’ve got to watch out for people trying to cozy up for the wrong reasons. Still, your sister doesn’t seem like someone who wouldn’t already know that.”
“She… hasn’t had much social experience. She’s been… convalescing for a long time.”
“Oh yeah, I remember—you showed up late after the entrance ceremony because she collapsed. She’s frail, huh? Totally different from my wild monkey of a sister. But hang on—doesn’t that mean that this classmate might be her first real friend?”

Aleksei’s eyes widened.

He hadn’t thought of that. In the territory, even the servants rarely heard Ekaterina’s voice, so withdrawn she was said to be. Yet since arriving in the capital, she had changed so completely—radiant, talkative, full of life—that it was easy to forget.

“You push too hard on things like that, and it can really backfire. Tell me, was that classmate actually a bad influence?”
“No…”

Aleksei recalled Flora—how she’d spoken of her humble origins without shame or arrogance, with more dignity than many nobles.

“I simply… wanted Ekaterina to learn proper noble etiquette. She’s so kind, and so innocent. I wanted her to form connections that could protect her.”

He trailed off. He knew all too well that those of similar status were often the least trustworthy.

And then, a thought struck him.
*—If it were Grandfather… what would he have done?*
Sergei Jurnova had always valued competence over birthright. But that was in his retainers. His dearest friend, Forli, had been the third son of a marquis’s house—later estranged from it, yes, but of noble blood nonetheless.

However… Aleksei’s grandfather had a half-brother—Isaak, born of another mother. To Aleksei, that made him his great-uncle. Despite being half-siblings, the two brothers had always been close; his grandfather had doted on his five-year-younger brother since childhood. Isaak, though a bit eccentric, was a kind man and had become a well-known scholar with connections across all social classes. Aleksei remembered hearing that his grandfather had occasionally met some of those people through him.

Even if Aleksei had introduced a friend of common birth to his grandfather, it was hard to imagine that the old man would have interfered with the friendship.

Yes, his grandfather would not have meddled. The one who would thoroughly reject a friend of lower standing was…

Aleksei clutched his bangs roughly.

(*Ekaterina… you were right.*)

Her furious voice, shouting like a storm, echoed in his mind.
The one who had driven others away—was his grandmother.

*”You’re just like Grandmother… the torment she put on Mother…”*

He had always looked to his grandfather as his guiding light, and after his death, Aleksei had believed himself to be protecting the Jurnova ducal house from his grandmother’s tyranny. It was not his father, but he himself who had inherited the dukedom directly from his grandfather. He’d taken pride in that.
And yet—when had he become tainted by his grandmother’s way of thinking?

That girl… would probably never again say she wanted to hold his hand.

.

Someone patted his shoulder.

“Hey, Duke. Duke! What’s wrong, Jurnova? Aleksei!”

Nikolai’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“You okay? You look pale. You sure you’re not sick?”
“No. There’s nothing wrong with my health.”

Aleksei shook his head stubbornly, and Nikolai gave a wry grin.

“Looks like the Ice Rose has wilted and melted.”
“…What?”
“Guess you don’t know. That’s what some of the girls call you.”

Then he shrugged lightly.

“Well, don’t brood too much. Siblings’ll be siblings, you know? Sometimes things get rough. If it’s just about who she’s friends with, why not let it slide for the three years she’s here? Unless that friend’s feeding her some weird ideas, of course.”

For a brief moment, Aleksei smiled faintly at the corner of his lips.

“…It’s just cooking.”
“Huh?”
“She learned to cook from that friend. Brought some to my office. Said she wanted to make sure I was eating properly.”
“There’s a sister like that in the world?”

Nikolai muttered in disbelief.

“My little monkey would just eat my share if food’s left lying around. But when * ate one of her pastries, she chased me around the yard swinging a pitchfork.”

A pitchfork—a giant fork used to move hay on a ranch, big enough to kill someone if you weren’t careful.

“Compared to that, your sister’s an angel. Doesn’t sound like you’ve got much to worry about. Maybe you should talk to her tomorrow, she’s probably feeling bad too.”
“You’re…right.”

Unlike his decisive tone in the office, Aleksei’s voice was hesitant now.
He was terrified of being rejected, so much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to speak to her.

.

The next morning.
Aleksei showed up looking perfectly composed, which made Nikolai chuckle.

“Morning, Duke. You’re looking lively enough.”
“Yeah, good morning. About yesterday—my sister came to see me after classes, and we settled things. Sorry for the fuss.”

Aleksei said it coolly. Then, averting his gaze, he added quietly, sounding a little embarrassed:

“I appreciate your advice. …Thank you, for yesterday.”
“Sure thing.”

Nikolai grinned, but then suddenly winced and rubbed the back of his head.

“…What’s wrong?”
“Ah—just felt someone’s gaze stabbing into me. Nah, forget it.”

It seemed that the silent feud among the girls surrounding Aleksei had started to affect even the boys nearby. No one dared to approach Aleksei directly—he was far too unapproachable—so the situation had devolved into strange rivalries and unspoken alliances. And whenever anything involving Aleksei happened, like that one time he smiled at the entrance ceremony, the whole class would erupt in incomprehensible excitement.
Truly, a troublesome affair.

“Well, good for you,” Nikolai said.

Aleksei gave a small, serene smile and nodded—and the classroom erupted in a chorus of silent screams.