My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 62

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

Episode 62
A chill crept down her spine, and her lungs seemed to seize. Her breath caught.
That voice was familiar.
Low and dry—the very same tone she’d heard endlessly last semester while writing experiment reports in the Library.
Her mind went blank.
What now?
She’d managed to slip through at the Banquet Hall by sheer luck, but here and now she looked far too much like Ivy.
Could she pull off the role of Princess without being caught in this place too?
No. Impossible.
She had to run.
That was the only conclusion her panicked mind could land on.
She thrust her swollen foot hastily into her shoe.
Or tried to, anyway.
Thunk.
The wretched shoe, utterly devoid of loyalty, toppled over and ruined everything.
And from there the situation spiraled toward catastrophe.
As she scrambled to right the fallen shoe with her toes, a shadow fell across her—his shadow.
“…….”
Ivy couldn’t lift her gaze from the shoe.
She could only hope that Cyrus retained some shred of loyalty to the Crown, or at least some consideration for a lady.
In short, she desperately wished he would leave.
There was no act of disloyalty or thoughtlessness quite like watching a would-be princess fumble with her shoe.
And he proved his loyalty to the Crown.
Without a word, he simply vanished from her sight.
Ivy was so grateful to Cyrus that she thought she might even show him her lecture notes if he asked.
But such gratitude was short-lived.
Thunk.
Soon he returned, placing something beside her shoe.
Slippers.
“……What is this?”
Even knowing that speaking risked exposure, Ivy couldn’t help but ask. She only took care to modulate her tone.
She kept that much guard.
“What are these?”
“Slippers.”
What?
At his absurd answer, her head jerked up of its own accord.
But the moment her eyes met Cyrus’s—standing askew with a jacket draped over his arm—she quickly arranged her face into a courtly smile.
The sort of smile a princess might naturally wear.
“Ah, so this is that article called slippers.”
And she spoke complete nonsense.
She really did want to die.
But there was no helping it.
Cyrus wasn’t the type to make a joke by saying “slippers” in that flat tone.
His mind had simply concluded that the princess Evelyn in this magical palace was apparently the sort who didn’t know what slippers were, so he’d decided to play along.
She couldn’t fathom how he arrived at such a thought, but in a way, it was better this way.
Better than him thinking, ‘Isn’t this awfully close to Ivy Underwood?’
“Yes. I asked the attendant, and she kindly lent them. You need only return them to the reception desk in the Annex Building afterward.”
He gestured with his chin toward the reception counter visible in the distance.
“I’ve caused you trouble. Thank you.”
There was sincerity in her words.
The moment her feet slipped into the plush slippers, her dying toes seemed to burst into song.
Ivy rose and made her way toward the reception desk with lighter steps.
When she thanked the attendant who’d lent her the slippers, the woman beamed and asked for a handshake.
“Please keep it between us that I’ve been taking a break here. It’s rather embarrassing.”
“Your Highness, no one would call it an escape—stepping away briefly due to sore feet during a banquet is perfectly natural.”
Ivy might have thought the same, but from Evelyn’s perspective it was different.
Abandoning one’s proper place and going elsewhere was itself a dereliction of duty.
As she turned to leave the reception desk, she glimpsed pastel-colored tent roofs through the corridor window.
The Easter Market.
This morning she’d gazed at it only from afar through the Royal Palace windows, yet now it lay just across a single street.
People moved leisurely past, carrying bouquets or cups of hot chocolate.
Their faces wore no obligatory smiles.
‘…….’
She looked down at her feet. The slippered feet were remarkably comfortable. That lightness seemed to make her judgment light as well.
She’d already broken protocol once.
From the moment she’d slipped away from the Banquet Hall and sat in the Annex Building borrowing these slippers, Evelyn Claire de Crest’s dignity was already forfeit.
So what difference would it make to go a little further?
Owen would scold her severely later, but that was a problem for later.
Between the world beyond the wall and Ivy now stood only a single door.
* * *
The air outside was cold.
Late afternoon in March—the sun was warm, but the wind still carried winter’s tail. The chill seeped through her clothes, yet she had no desire to return to the Library.
As she emerged from the alley beside the Library, the market’s clamor rushed toward her all at once.
Laughter, hawkers calling their wares, an accordion melody drifting from somewhere.
It was a noise unlike anything in the Royal Palace or the School.
Colored eggs hung in neat rows beneath the tent canopy.
Red, blue, pale purple. They were clumsy and crooked, as if children had painted them.
Which was precisely why they were perfect.
There was a short line at the hot chocolate stand. She wanted to warm away the chill lodged in her chest.
Or perhaps she simply wanted to stand among other people, blending in as one of them.
Even in this form of Evelyn.
The thought made even the wait feel like joy.
But when her turn finally came, she realized something crucial.
She wasn’t Ivy, who kept a coin purse in her pocket—she was Evelyn, who never carried a single coin in her own hands.
“How many would you like?”
As the clerk asked, she awkwardly waved her hand and tried to step aside—
“Two, please.”
An arm brushed past her shoulder, and coins clinked onto the counter.
“……?”
Ivy turned slowly to look behind her.
Cyrus had cut in front of her without invitation and didn’t even glance her way. He only watched the clerk across the counter.
Moments later, two steaming cups of hot chocolate arrived in small takeout cups.
Cyrus took one, so Ivy picked up the other and followed in his wake.
“What is all this?”
First slippers, now hot chocolate? What sudden kindness was this?
“Hot chocolate. A beverage made by dissolving cocoa powder in hot milk.”
“…….”
She hadn’t expected a menu description.
“I know what it is. Believe it or not, the Royal Palace is well-stocked with milk and cocoa. I was asking why you bought it for me.”
He’d been walking straight ahead this whole time, but now he glanced down at her briefly before continuing.
“I didn’t want to wait in line.”
“You used me as a line-cutter to avoid waiting for six people?”
“Yes.”
He answered plainly, offering no further excuse.
Given Cyrus’s usual regard for efficiency, it wasn’t an unreasonable answer.
Besides, he was already tossing his empty cup into the trash.
‘He must have really wanted it.’
Ivy hadn’t even finished half of hers.
“Fine, I understand. Still, thank you. I was cold.”
“Yes, you would have been.”
With that, he extended the arm bearing his jacket toward her.
As Ivy’s eyes darted between his face and his arm, he spoke first.
“This is a jacket.”
“I know—it’s an outer garment you wear when cold. And besides, I didn’t ask!”
Without meaning to, Ivy bristled, and quickly averted her gaze.
That was far too much like Ivy.
“…….”
Thunk.
Unexpected warmth settled on her shoulders. His jacket.
Her back stiffened. She recognized this warmth. She tried not to remember how she knew it.
The odd feeling came from knowing that tenderness of this sort was anything but ordinary.
Only then did it strike her again.
Cyrus was the School’s finest student, and now she was…….
The princess he would gain as a trophy.
What if his kindness sprang from that very thought?
She didn’t like it.
No—she hated it.
“The jacket…….”
Ivy managed to speak, and he answered in a tone utterly devoid of emotion.
“It was troublesome to carry.”

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