My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 61

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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 61
“Your Highness?”
It was only when the University Official called out in confusion that Ivy finally snapped back to attention.
“Ah, I was just overwhelmed by the atmosphere. I never imagined I’d meet all the professors I admire in one place like this.”
“They all take a deep interest in nurturing the next generation. Investment in the future always comes first.”
“I’ll keep that sincerity close to my heart as well.”
After that, she exchanged greetings in turn with the dean and various patrons of the Royal University.
As she fielded their attention with practiced ease, Ivy gradually recovered her composure.
Cyrus and Ivy occupied the same space, yet upon closer thought, they weren’t truly in the same sphere at all.
Ivy spent her time with the officials running the event, while Cyrus engaged in conversation with the young scholars actively pursuing their research.
In fact, more than twenty minutes had passed since Ivy arrived, and their eyes had yet to meet even once.
So there was no real need to be conscious of him.
And yet Ivy kept stealing glances at him anyway.
‘So he does own formal wear, then.’
He was always wandering about in his school uniform buried under that black hoodie, so she’d assumed he’d rather die than wear something so uncomfortable.
‘It does… suit him, though.’
Not that it mattered.
‘I’m just looking because it’s unusual, that’s all. No other reason.’
Still, continuing to steal glances like this looked suspicious. If their eyes happened to meet, she’d be caught off guard in an obvious way.
Ivy turned her back entirely toward where Cyrus stood.
“Your Highness.”
Just then, a University Professor standing directly in her line of sight recognized her and approached with a warm smile.
“Professor.”
Ivy greeted him with a light smile. He taught economics at the Royal University and also served as an advisor to the Royal House.
She had encountered him several times when she was young.
Though “encounter” wasn’t quite the right word.
“These days, when I visit the palace, I find myself missing the questions your Highness used to ask.”
When she was young, Ivy had treated him as a “Royal House advisor” obligated to answer her curiosities, bombarding him with questions from every angle.
“That was so long ago when I was a child. I graduated from such rudeness by age eleven.”
“Curiosity cannot be placed in the category of rudeness. I do hope you’ll share your thoughts with me again anytime.”
How kind this man was.
That must be why he had answered the young princess’s peculiar questions so seriously back then.
Ivy smiled warmly at the memory.
“It is my pleasure to support the Royal House’s only future.”
But at those words—”only future”—the tips of Ivy’s fingers stiffened.
Once, the phrase “the Royal House’s future” had naturally included Fabian as well.
But now anyone casually referred to Ivy alone as “the only one.”
As if he had never existed at all.
“Yes, thank you.”
Ivy managed the reply.
“Ah, by the way, your Highness. Not long ago I met a most interesting person. Such a delightful individual—they reminded me of you.”
“If they caught your eye, they must not be a wild child, unlike me.”
“Not wild, but I thought they shared many qualities with you. Ah, there they are now.”
The professor raised his hand behind Ivy toward someone. She nodded lightly and turned to follow his gaze.
“Quinton!”
The moment the professor’s call reached her from directly beside her, Ivy’s eyes met Cyrus’s.
“……!”
Would he recognize her? No, surely not. Cyrus wouldn’t have that kind of keen eye for detail.
He wouldn’t pay such close attention to strangers he had no connection to in the first place.
As they drew near enough that she could no longer escape, Ivy began to offer a silent prayer.
Please, God, let me appear to him as nothing but an annoying organism.
Soon he approached and came to stand beside the professor.
Ivy forced herself to wear the benevolent smile of a princess. It was an expression she never wore at school.
Especially never in front of Cyrus.
“Your Highness, allow me to introduce you. This is Cyrus Quinton. He received the Grand Prize for Research this year at the Royal Youth Research Symposium. The Sustainability Excellence Award, at that.”
I know.
Ivy answered silently to herself while letting her expression show pleasant surprise.
“Quinton, how old are you now, then? Now that I think about it, weren’t you and the princess the same age?”
This was the most unwelcome topic. If it came out that Cyrus, who attended Royal High School, was Ivy’s age, an even more awkward conversation would follow.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Even knowing it was impolite, Ivy interjected into the professor’s statement and offered her greeting to Cyrus.
Her voice was pitched slightly higher than usual.
“Evelyn Claire de Crest.”
It was the first time her heartbeat had climbed to her throat while saying her own name.
Tilgreen’s eyes, which had been fixed on the professor until now, finally turned toward Ivy.
Everywhere his gaze fell felt acute and present.
Please, Cyrus.
Treat me as if I’m irrelevant, someone with no connection to you. Even ignore me.
“……It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
It was a perfectly indifferent greeting, tinged with unmistakable reluctance.
Though the word “first” seemed to have emerged just slightly, almost imperceptibly late.
It must have been her imagination.
“Your Highness.”
At that very moment, as if by perfect timing, another patron spotted Ivy and approached.
Ivy excused herself from the professor and Cyrus, and moved away naturally.
‘…… I’m safe.’
Following the unspoken rule of society that one never speaks twice with someone after an awkward first greeting, Ivy had now arrived at complete safety.
But that illusion crumbled in less than fifteen minutes.
This was no safe haven. It was the heart of a raging inferno.
Last night’s ambassador’s reception dinner had run until nearly midnight, leaving her entire body sore.
It had started with the High Heels. The newly purchased pair now gnawed at her feet like sharp teeth.
As her feet began to ache, the conversations flowing past her barely registered.
Or perhaps it was the aftereffect of four days without proper rest.
But she couldn’t afford to lose focus—the patrons posed subtle questions, clearly probing for the Royal House’s position from the lips of the young princess.
“Yes, I’m still just observing things for now.”
Ivy had to weave through their queries with carefully neutral responses and answer faithfully as best she could.
Yet no matter how diligently she attended to them, she couldn’t escape the occasional wistful remark that drifted from afar.
“If the Queen had come…….”
Her hand tightened around the Wine Glass.
All her strength drained away. She wanted nothing more than to kick off these shoes and collapse into bed.
“I hear the Annex isn’t open today.”
A familiar voice passed nearby, barely audible.
Their eyes met again, naturally.
He showed no particular change in expression, simply continuing to speak of something to the professor.
‘Just now…… that wasn’t directed at me, was it?’
His words seemed to have been aimed directly at her.
But when she thought about it, that made no sense. Why would he bother telling an unfamiliar princess that the Annex was closed today?
To escape people’s eyes and get some rest?
‘He’s not the type to be kind like that.’
Ivy excused herself momentarily from those she’d been speaking with.
“There’s someone I need to greet, so I’ll take my leave for a moment.”
She bowed lightly and withdrew. Her attendant followed at once.
Ivy gestured toward the Restroom at the end of the Corridor and smiled.
“I’ll just wash my hands and be back.”
Once she confirmed her attendant had stepped back, Ivy slipped past the Restroom.
The Corridor leading to the Annex was quiet. Only the sound of her High Heels echoed on the floor.
As the noise from the Reception faded, the pain in her feet became even more acute. Yet strangely, she felt as if she could breathe again.
Cyrus couldn’t have been trying to help her by mentioning that.
It was impossible.
But when she collapsed onto the sofa placed in front of the Annex pillar and slipped off those torturous High Heels, she found herself murmuring something without thinking.
Thank you for telling me about this place.
“Don’t mention it.”
And an answer came from beyond the pillar.
“…….”

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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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