The 21st Century Grand Grand Duchess in the Royal Academy - Chapter 9

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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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A Twenty-First Century Grand Duchess in the Royal Academy
Jealousy or Admiration
Wan’s appearance as he loitered outside the Archery Range was hardly dignified. All this trouble just to find one person. If he mentioned this to his brother, he would surely be mocked just like last time.
‘My younger brother harboring an unrequited love….’
But the reason he wanted to see that girl again had nothing to do with what his brother imagined. He simply wanted to praise her outstanding performance in the friendly match—to commend that determination of hers, the way she had stood up to him and ultimately earned the Eosahwa. It was admirable.
As a senior, and simply as a person.
The problem was that the girl was nowhere to be found. He had heard she spent more than half her day in the Library, yet he hadn’t caught even a glimpse of her.
An ordinary person would have given up by now, but Wan had grown stubborn.
‘Strange, she was here just a moment ago…?’
He had heard this same thing several times. The thought that she might be deliberately avoiding him made Wan feel wronged. After all, wasn’t it he who had prevented her from receiving demerits? Wasn’t it he who had allowed her to practice in the Archery Range all day?
With his heart thus twisted, Wan resolved that when they met again, he would display his senior’s dignity—but—
….
The moment his junior came into view during practice, all his resolve vanished. She had been nowhere to be found when he searched, yet standing on the shooting line, her presence captivated him. Those burning eyes, those eyes that desired victory without restraint—they were magnificent.
He envied that confidence, the way she made no attempt to hide her will to win.
Perhaps that was why he had taken her side. Overlooking her faults, granting her wishes. Though it wasn’t pity, as his brother had suggested.
Rather… it was admiration.
Just then, his junior finished her practice and began gathering her things. Startled, Wan unconsciously stepped backward. He didn’t want to appear as though he had been waiting.
He thought it would be most natural if they happened to meet as he arrived for practice and she was leaving after finishing—
….
But his stubborn junior merely nodded curtly and passed by. Wan, who had expected at least a casual acknowledgment, quickly called her back.
“Hey…!”
She turned around with an air of annoyance, her gaze piercing. Her eyes said: if you have something to say, say it quickly and get out of my way. Wan felt his heart twist again, but he wanted to show magnanimity as a senior.
“You did well… in that friendly match.”
Wan offered the most gentle smile he could muster, choosing his words carefully. Yet her expression showed no improvement; if anything, it grew more displeased.
“Are you… taking credit for something right now?”
“Credit? Can’t you distinguish between praise and taking credit?”
“Suit yourself.”
Without a trace of hesitation, she went her way. Wan had only meant to offer praise, to exchange pleasantries, hoping they might grow closer—yet he found himself staring at her cold retreating figure in bewilderment.
Then she stopped. Turning back, she strode toward him with such force that it seemed she might strike him—but instead, she bowed respectfully, just as she had on that day when she was caught practicing in secret.
Wan burst into laughter, shrugging his shoulders. The impudence of his polite junior was endearing. Still chuckling at the contradiction, Wan’s expression hardened the moment he spotted Min Jung-woo standing inside the Archery Range.
“You were here?”
Min Jung-woo nodded indifferently at the embarrassed question.
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since before you began loitering about?”
The realization that Min Jung-woo had witnessed his entire pathetic search made Wan wish he could die of shame. But as a Grand Duke of this nation, he chose shamelessness instead. He casually adjusted his bow and then—
“Are you close with Sung Hee-joo?”
This seemed natural enough.
“Quite close. We share the same Dormitory.”
Min Jung-woo answered with equal naturalness.
“What do you think?”
To such an awkward question….
“It’s pretty.”
I gave an answer that hardly satisfied me.
Back in the Dormitory, I found myself replaying my encounter with Prince An. Ever since that night when the friendly match ended and I learned of Prince An’s competitive nature, I’d been avoiding him—which made this unexpected meeting all the more disconcerting.
There was no particular reason for the avoidance. It was just… awkward, somehow.
It wasn’t difficult to spot him. With his towering height, he was visible from the far end of any Corridor or corner of the School Grounds. Yet of all places, I had to run into him right in front of the Archery Range.
“….”
I didn’t like the face I saw after so long. He’d lost a game he should have won, yet there he was, smiling. Didn’t it bother him? If I were in his position, I’d be furious—wouldn’t even want to look at myself.
So I wanted to simply pass by. I had no desire to pity some highborn prince.
But I couldn’t become the wind.
“….”
I shook my head as if to cast off the conversation with him, then sat at my desk and opened my textbook. Either way, as long as I didn’t get entangled with him going forward, it would be fine. Not that we were truly entangled now, but that face kept surfacing unbidden, and it unsettled me.
Only I knew how scorching those cool eyes became when they blazed down upon their target—and I was secretly grateful for that.
When the weekend arrived, I headed to the Family Home with Sung Tae-joo. The two of us, silent since getting in the car, looked to anyone’s eye like we didn’t get along—yet we were unmistakably siblings. Half-siblings, technically, but Chairman Sung’s genetics were relentless.
I lowered the window, feeling suffocated, and let the wind wash over me. I disliked going home except during breaks, and already I felt a sense of dread.
“Hey, did you prepare a gift for Father?”
Sung Tae-joo, who’d been glued to his phone messaging with Da-young, asked.
“Why? What did you prepare?”
I replied curtly, eyeing the shopping bag wedged beside him. It was obvious he’d prepared something strange again for Father’s birthday. The man had a romantic streak despite his appearance. Last year he’d gifted Father a portrait he’d painted himself, and when we were younger, he’d folded paper cranes as presents.
What had I prepared?
“You? Brat. Does the word ‘older brother’ not come naturally to you?”
“You have to act like an older brother for me to call you one.”
“This is ridiculous!”
“What, what!”
Just as I reached to grab Sung Tae-joo’s hair, his phone rang.
“Hold on, time out.”
“You like time outs. Are you counting?”
“Oh, it’s Father calling!”
Sung Tae-joo exclaimed, holding up his phone. Only then did I withdraw my outstretched hand and cross my arms. No need to hear nagging before we even arrived.
Sung Tae-joo, who’d been muttering irritably, answered the phone in the most affectionate voice imaginable. Anticipating the conversation that would follow, I naturally found my earbuds and inserted them.
“Yes, Father.”
The way Sung Tae-joo addressed his father,
“We’ve been driving for a while now, so we should arrive soon.”
and the father waiting for Sung Tae-joo,
“We’ll grab a cake on the way—what would you like? Chocolate over whipped cream, right?”
their relationship, so brazenly comfortable—I found it unbearable to watch.
I resolved never to admit envy, not even in death. I was too intelligent to be jealous of the foolish Sung Tae-joo, and I didn’t care for Father enough to long for his affection. Envy is defeat.
Meanwhile, Sung Tae-joo finished his call and rummaged through his shopping bag. I tried not to look, but his restless movements drew my gaze. The familiar logo on the green box suggested a watch.
“A watch?”
Sung Tae-joo nodded at my seemingly indifferent question.
“Father gave me the watch he used to wear.”
Only then did I notice the timepiece adorning Sung Tae-joo’s wrist. No wonder it looked so vintage—he’d received his father’s watch.
“What did you prepare for him?”
“I didn’t prepare anything.”
“You didn’t?”
“I won first place in the recent exam and received the Royal Commendation, so there’s no need to prepare anything more, is there?”
Though I had a gift tucked away in my bag, I answered that way.

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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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