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The Joy of Birth and The Student Council’s Invitation

“(…) Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books. But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.”

— “Romeo and Juliet” by William Shakespeare —

♦♢♦

Now, according to the principal,

“Your basics are still lacking. Considering individual differences, I prefer to enhance strengths rather than eliminate weaknesses in my students. However, in your case, there are patches of self-taught inconsistencies in your foundation, so it’s better to correct those bad habits first.”

Thus began the hellish training regimen under the pretext of special lesson: I was thrown in a mysterious space with sparse mana and had to desperately counter fireballs casually thrown by the principal, pierce through the tiny weak spots of familiars with absurdly hard exteriors through the usage of magical power, and dodge magic swords flying from all directions using only Search while being blindfolded and wearing earplugs.

Is this really basic training? Or did the principal foresee the revival of a demon lord or an alien invasion or something and chose me to undergo extreme level-up training for that reason? With such doubts in my mind, I somehow managed to complete the training for yet another day and dragged my heavy feet back home.

““Welcome home, Lady Jill.””
“I’m back. Thank you for the welcome.”

Entering the front door through the main gate—not the store entrance—I’m greeted by the household staff lined up: Curtis the butler, several footmen, and the maids including Monika, all bowing on either side.

Initially, these grand greetings felt unfamiliar, but recently, I’ve come to accept them. The sight of everyone bowing in unison is quite a spectacle, almost like watching a coordinated performance.

Well, it seems the number of servants in my household is comparable to that of an upper-class citizen, which is still considered modest—then again I was singled out in the Aulanthia Manor and lived a life far from luxury in the Brandmüller family, so the situation hasn’t changed much for me. However, among the nobility and royalty, it is said that dozens of servants line up in rows, with uniform hairstyles, hair colors, and heights, all greeting in unison.

Rumor has it that when the God Emperor of the Superempire walks, there will be a carpet extending to the horizon, with servants kneeling in reverence on either side… It doesn’t sound like an environment where one can casually go for a walk.

While that may be an extreme example, the upper nobility and royalty seem to lead quite formal and rigid lives. I hope to avoid getting involved with them as much as possible. Besides, as an adopted daughter of a lower noble family, I’m unlikely to have much to do with such a world. Unless I somehow marry into a wealthy family—an unlikely prospect—worrying about it is as pointless as fearing the sky will fall.

As I pondered this, I ascended the stairs with Eren and Lana to return to my room. There, Luke, who had arrived home ahead of me, greeted us at the top of the staircase.

He seemed to be in high spirits, a broad smile spreading across his face.

“Welcome back, Jill!”

“I’m back, Luke,” I replied, even though we had only parted ways in the classroom this afternoon.

“Is something the matter? Your voice sounds quite lively.”
“You see, actually, it’s finally happened! It’s born!”

Ah, he must be referring to the dubious object left behind by Chaton; the so-called “dragon egg.” It seems it has finally hatched.

Unlike with my egg, which I carried around all the time, this egg was placed in a special incubator made by a witch (me). Luke would press his hands against it several times a day to infuse it with his spirit energy, allowing it to grow healthily.

“Oh my! Congratulations. I’m glad to hear it’s born safely.”
“Yes, it’s a girl, weighing 3,000 gura!”
“Three kilogura? That’s a bit small, isn’t it? Even subtracting the weight of the shell, I thought it would weigh at least five kilogura.”
“Really? My father wrote in a letter that it’s about standard, or perhaps a little heavy.”

“I’m not sure about the standard, but from holding it the other day, it felt close to ten kilogura… But if Sir Eilmer says it’s fine, then there must be no problem. He is the Dragon Knight, after all.”
“Holding it? When did you get the chance to meet my parents, Jill?”
“Huh? Why would you think I met your parents?”

Both of us looked puzzled, tilting our heads in confusion. It felt like there was a significant misunderstanding between us…

♦♢♦

“You want me to join the student council executive committee? Don’t be ridiculous. The student council is supposed to be a voluntary, self-governing organization by students. The executive committee is a service organization that mediates between students and the school, proposing and implementing solutions to various problems. And you expect me, a member of the royal family, to serve as if I were a mere servant? How dare you?”

Princess Lieselotte of Cilento glared angrily, her followers matching her with equally menacing looks, causing the gentle-looking male student who was a current student council executive to take a step back behind the podium.

“Th-that’s not what I meant, Your Highness. The student council is strictly neutral and maintains an equal stance with both students and teachers. Our activities are aimed at ensuring students have a meaningful school life, and it’s not about servitude but rather goodwill,” he explained, pressing his hand to the holy symbol of the Holy Maiden’s Church that hung around his neck, trying to calm himself as he refuted her claim.

“Hmph. It’s all about how you phrase it, isn’t it? By the way, are you a priest?”
“Y-yes, I hold the rank of deacon from a Baron family in Eunice.”
“I thought so. Your manner of speaking reminds me of my rigid theology teacher, a bishop with a hard head.”

Lieselotte sighed with a look of exasperation.

“Are there many other priests among the student council executive members?”
“Well, not all of them, but there are seven members who hold priestly ranks. Including general believers, about seventy percent are members of the church.”

Given that it’s the state religion of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom, it wasn’t surprising, but Lieselotte’s face clearly showed her distaste for it, even if her royal status kept her from voicing it aloud.

“I see. So, thirty percent aren’t members of the church. May I ask how they’re chosen?”

The question came from Viola, who was sitting next to Lieselotte in the front row of the empty classroom after school. She (he?) had also been invited to join the student council executive committee.

“Yes, of course. The student council executives are primarily chosen based on self-nomination or nomination by others, and academic performance is also a factor. Sometimes, top-performing international students are selected. Even if they are of a different faith, it’s usually not a problem since we’re all students.”

The executive member answered smoothly, as if prepared for the question, casting a brief glance at Viola.

Viola couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at the slight difference in his attitudes towards Lieselotte, the princess of Cilento Central Kingdom, an axis nation of the Livitium Imperial Kingdom, and herself, a native of the Eastern Federation whose state religion was the Deva Kureha Faith.

(It seems the student council isn’t as unified as they claim. Factions exist in every facet of society, it’s simply inescapable.)

Author’s note:

There are even factions within the church. The Originalist faction and the Clara faction, for example…

Translator’s note:

The originalist is written as the “original scripture faction” in Japanese. I’m guessing that means that this faction prefers the original scripture from Hiyuki, as opposed to following Clara’s iteration.