My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 18

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 18
“Of course I have to watch it, so I’m watching.”
Cyrus answered flatly, the headset volume muted, his gaze still fixed on the screen.
The Royal Family’s New Year’s Address.
“Sure. Right now, that’s the only way you’ll meet your bride.”
Your bride.
The careless word made Cyrus’s expression stiffen for a moment. But he showed nothing, answering composedly instead.
“Today’s announcement is an important indicator of this year’s economic outlook, so I’m listening for that reason.”
“But you get to see your princess too while you’re at it, don’t you? It’s already decided anyway, so what does it matter?”
Unable to withstand the relentless teasing, Cyrus finally pushed his headset back and turned to look at Logan.
“Blake.”
“What? What is it?”
He was spinning a basketball around. From that roguish smile, Cyrus could hazard a guess at what was going through his mind.
“I’m telling you now—I have no intention of accepting the Royal Family’s proposal.”
The rule that the most excellent student marries the Royal heir had never been broken, not once, in all the years it had existed.
But that was only because the Most Excellent Student had never refused it.
“You’re going to refuse? A Royal Marriage Proposal?”
“That’s one of my rights.”
Of course, that was theory. Who would turn down such elevation of status?
But as long as it was possible, there was no reason Cyrus wouldn’t use it.
He had no interest in being forced into a union with some woman he barely knew, nor in shouldering tedious obligations he never asked for.
“Quinton, are you out of your mind?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“It’s the best job offer you’ll ever get! And it comes with the ultimate trophy—a princess, no less. How does it get better than that?”
As he spoke, the camera panned to fill the screen with Princess Evelyn, standing a step back and smiling.
The live chat began scrolling faster.
Half the messages were praise; the other half was garbage from people who lived to tear things down.
To Cyrus, both halves seemed equally pathetic.
“I don’t.”
Cyrus sighed and took the basketball from Logan’s hands. The constant spinning was distracting.
“I don’t want a trophy. And besides, the princess isn’t a trophy anyway. More than that, the position they’re offering me isn’t…particularly appealing to me.”
“Is there anything in this world more appealing than becoming a queen’s husband?”
“Countless things.”
Cyrus said it without hesitation.
Just looking at what was happening on screen—that affected New Year’s Address—was enough to confirm it.
That self-assured façade claiming “we live in an era without problems”—it was pathetic.
He understood that such a pose was necessary for the public good.
But could Cyrus himself pull it off? Absolutely not.
And more than that, he found it utterly uninteresting. That sort of work was better left to people with an actor’s temperament.
And above all else.
……
Cyrus turned his gaze back to the video. He looked at the princess in the background, smiling innocently as though oblivious to the world, and smiled crookedly.
“I don’t like her.”
“You dislike the Royal Family? And here I thought I was rooming with a traitor. Aren’t you afraid of what the Royal Family might do to you in retaliation?”
Retaliation?
Cyrus smiled faintly.
True, his refusal wouldn’t be pleasant for the Royal Family. Those stuffy people wouldn’t be able to maintain their tradition.
But they wouldn’t be petty enough to take it out on some kid fresh out of high school.
They didn’t like scandal.
And if the Royal Family bothered to investigate Cyrus’s background even a little, they’d consider his refusal a blessing.
“Do what you want.”
Cyrus gently tossed the basketball he’d stolen from Logan into the air.
The ball traced a perfect arc and dropped neatly through the round net hung as a makeshift hoop on the wall.
Logan let out a short whistle of surprise.
Cyrus put his headset back on and turned his attention to the screen.
Princess Evelyn’s figure, shoved to the edge of the frame, briefly entered his view, but only for a moment.
There was no particular feeling in it.
* * *
The New Year’s Address had ended.
Ivy removed all her makeup and changed back into her plain school uniform.
The winter break wasn’t over yet, but she had no plans to linger at the Royal Palace.
‘I’ll be alone anyway.’
Her parents were extremely busy at this time of year. She had no desire to be a bother.
Besides, there were duties waiting for her as Class Representative once she got back to school.
Ivy grabbed her worn backpack and stepped out of her room.
She waved off the attendant who’d come to see her out and descended the stairs alone.
Partway down, she heard a familiar voice near the entrance hall below.
“I’ll send someone. Yes, of course—quietly.”
It was Owen. From the sound of it, he was on a call.
Eavesdropping on her secretary’s conversations wasn’t exactly befitting a princess. So Ivy cleared her throat and tried to continue down the remaining stairs.
But.
“I won’t let my guard down. For the princess’s sake, if nothing else.”
The words that followed made her footsteps falter.
“…Owen.”
At the faint sound of her voice, he ended the call and rushed to the stairs, extending his hand.
“I was waiting for you, Your Highness.”
Ivy took Owen’s hand and descended the remaining steps, then asked him.
“Who was that?”
He understood well enough that she wasn’t asking about the other party on the call. So he simply smiled awkwardly.
“Was it an order?”
“…Yes.”
“I see.”
Owen always deferred to Ivy, but there was one circumstance where he could refuse her.
A Royal Order.
Which meant the person he’d been speaking with moments ago was Ivy’s father—the king of this nation.
In such cases, no amount of pressing on Ivy’s part would yield results.
“Forgive me.”
He opened the car door for her, apologizing.
“It’s fine.”
Ivy hugged her bag and fell into thought for a moment.
What could her father be discussing without her?
Was it related to the incident with her uncle?
No, that couldn’t be. He’d been executed, and the remaining family members had been completely struck from the royal register.
She would never see the cousin who was her age again.
Probably not ever.
* * *
Ivy arrived at school just as lights-out was beginning.
Most of the dormitory rooms were dark.
So the dormitory students had suddenly become good about following lights-out rules?
Well, better than before, but not to this extent. Most students probably hadn’t returned from break yet.
Ivy passed through the empty dormitory hall and signed the return confirmation form in the dorm supervisor’s office.
She’d hoped Joy might be back, but her name was absent from the roster, meaning she hadn’t escaped home yet.
Poor thing.
This concern had only begun after she and Joy had kept in touch during the break.
At first, they’d only spoken sporadically about dormitory matters.
But before long, complaints about classes and homework had crept into their conversations, and later even brief grumbling about family.
Without noticing, the frequency of their messages had grown shorter. If one was slow to respond, the other would wait for a reply.
Ivy decided to call Joy before sleep and left the office.
As she climbed the stairs down the quiet corridor, she heard footsteps descending from the opposite direction.
‘Who could that be?’
So there was someone else besides Ivy who’d given up spending the new year with family.
The footsteps drew closer. Ivy tilted her head slightly upward.
She caught sight of the other person between the stair railings, and her steps stopped short.
The last person she’d want to meet in the new year, the season meant for hope.
Cyrus Quinton.
And just as she looked up, he looked down at the bottom of the stairs, and their eyes met.
They stood motionless, their gazes locked across the railing and the darkness.
Ivy turned away first and continued up the stairs. At the same moment, Cyrus descended, and they passed each other on the landing.
Neither spoke. It was as if the other didn’t exist.
When they’d drawn some distance apart.
Ivy couldn’t help herself and turned back to look at him. After all, it felt strange to just walk past someone she clearly knew.
“Hello, Quinton.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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