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Doing things you’re apprehensive about becomes familiar with continued practice. That’s why people say that the borders in your heart will eventually wear down.

“Mar, I’m here.”

“Good morning, Carl.”

And that’s the case for me now. Although the pastry club room was created by the Academy with great care, it wasn’t a place where someone should stay. It was supposed to be a place used briefly for baking purposes.

I felt the comfort of the Vice President’s office when I was starting to feel bored of staying alone in the clubroom for a long time. I was wondering if I should get some books, but being able to spend time with someone else was nice.

It seemed like Marghetta was really okay with me coming over at any time. That’s why I’ve been coming every day despite thinking that it was rude.

“I brought some more today.”

“Thanks as always. But it’s really okay even if you come empty-handed.”

“How could I do that?”

Of course, constantly being labeled as the ‘grown-up fool who plays while a younger lady works’ was troublesome. However, helping Marghetta wasn’t an option since the things she did were outside of my area of expertise.

So, after much consideration, I started bringing snacks every morning. That’s all I can do at the moment. I’m sure having something to eat while you’re using your head would be helpful. Also, they’re easy to eat since they’re cookies.

However, Marghetta declined.

And with my persistent persuasion, she finally started accepting the cookies. Even if you stayed in cheap lodging, you had to pay. That’s why staying in such a luxurious room for free felt wrong. Marghetta, who hesitated in the beginning, was eating them naturally, which made me feel pleased.

‘I should bring more.’

I should ask Louise to make more than usual.

* * *

Carl brought cookies again.

‘It’s really okay even if he came empty-handed.’

When Carl brought cookies for the first time, bad memories passed through my mind. There was that horrible taste I experienced before the club fair. It tasted so horrible like nothing else I had tasted before. I was also afraid that Carl might be using that to push me away.

I was relieved to know that wasn’t the case and that Carl had given them to me out of goodwill. However, I didn’t want to taste that flavor again, and that’s why I initially refused. But unfortunately, Carl said he wouldn’t come here unless I accepted some cookies.

Choosing between enduring the terrible cookies and spending time with Carl or protecting my taste buds, I naturally chose the former. If I endured a moment of discomfort, happiness would come, and I could bear it. And as soon as I tasted the cookies, I realized how meaningless my worries were.

‘Why are they tasty?’

Once again, I took out a cookie I had received from Carl and took a bite. It was delicious. It wasn’t relatively good since I was expecting the worst, but it was tasty even compared to other things.

The first day I received the cookies, I was ready for them to be as horrible as the ones I had tasted in the clubroom, but they were delicious. Why had he given me such a cookie when there were normal ones like these? Was he really trying to push me away that day, then changed his mind the next day?

I still couldn’t forget what Carl said to me when my head was dizzy because of confusion.

He brought more cookies, thinking that I had enjoyed them. Judging by the look on his face, I could tell that he wasn’t joking.

It’s possible that he thought that. After all, I was always careful about my expressions while being before Carl. But to bring different-tasting ones while thinking I liked them? It had happened for too many days for it to be a simple mistake.

I glanced at Carl, who was lying on the sofa, lost in thought. I knew that people who had experienced war often exhibited unusual symptoms. I’d heard a lot about it from being part of the Valenti family. And I recognized some of those symptoms in Carl.

‘What should I do…?’

It was a sad situation. I wanted to embrace him and console him right away, but he didn’t seem affected. After all, he hadn’t said a word. So, do I have the right to do that? Wouldn’t it make things worse if I clumsily approached him?

In the end, I wasn’t able to do anything about it. However, the opportunity would come for sure. As time goes by, he will show his wound, and I will be able to soothe it. Yes, it will definitely be like that. I will stay by his side, so he can confide in me comfortably.

‘But anyways… Why is this delicious?’

I understand why Carl brought a different cookie than before. But I still don’t understand why that cookie had come out of the clubroom. After all, he had probably brought what he always eats. Then, why does this taste so different?

* * *

The club time was about to end when Louise handed me my cookie jar.

“Here! I made more than usual!”

“Thanks. Mar also enjoyed them.”

“Hehe, I’m glad to hear that.”

Louise smiled brightly. It seemed like she was happy to hear that someone other than me was enjoying her cookies too. I’m grateful that she doesn’t seem bothered by me asking her to make more than usual. Of course, when I asked her to make twice as much on the first day, she seemed confused.

Louise’s expression changed upon hearing that, and she put away the dough she was making and started anew. I told her that she didn’t need to go to such lengths, but she was so firm that I couldn’t dissuade her. It was quite admirable, like a craftsman’s spirit.

Marghetta was eating the cookies Louise made with passion. She already ate them well, but these had been made with more care, so it was only natural.

“I’ll count on you tomorrow as well.”

“Yes!”

Having a competent club president was very convenient. I, as the Advisor, was very satisfied.

The Vice President’s office was connected to the Student Council’s Room, so passing through the Student Council room was inevitable. But that wasn’t a problem. After all, I had given the President a free pass to become a Civil Servant. However, today’s atmosphere was different from usual.

As soon as I opened the Student Council’s room’s door, all seven members simultaneously looked at me. What’s going on? Why’s everyone here when they’re usually dispersed at this time?

“Ah, Prosecutor.”

The President, who was frowning, relaxed his expression after seeing me. He was about to get up, but I gestured for him to remain seated.

“Did I come at the wrong time? My apologies.”

“Not at all. We were about to finish the meeting.”

“I’m glad.”

It was about to end? It’s pretty clear that I walked in during the meeting.

However, I decided to let it go since I was quite familiar with the President’s intentions. He was probably aiming for the situation where ‘We couldn’t progress in the meeting due to having nothing to talk about, but couldn’t end it either. Then, a superior came and we ended the meeting so we could greet him.’ I could see it in his eyes. It seems that he’s already practicing this sort of thing quite well, a testament to his excellent Civil Servant qualities.

“Vice President, please. Take care of the Prosecutor.”

“Understood.”

And he naturally linked me with Marghetta, who was the reason why I came here. In just a year, a kid like him would become a Civil Servant. The future of the Empire looks bright indeed.

“I’m sorry for greeting you in such a way, Carl. We had an important matter.”

When I entered the Vice President’s office, Marghetta apologized, so I shook my head. That was my mistake, so I should be the one apologizing.

“I’m the one who’s interrupting, so I should be the one apologizing.”

“Fufu, I appreciate you saying that.”

“But Mar, what was that meeting about?”

“Ah, that?”

Marghetta let out a small sigh at my question and sat down. If there was a Student Council meeting scheduled for the morning, Mar would have let me know in advance. Moreover, now that the exams are over, there shouldn’t be any matters important enough for the Student Council to convene. This meant that something unexpected had occurred.

“Normally, the Academy’s schedule is empty around this time.”

“Yes, I know.”

After the club fair and the exams, there wasn’t much going on in the Academy. This was a form of consideration from the Academy to the students who were probably tired and to give them time to recover. Or at least, that was the case until last year.

“Then, have you heard that school trips are returning this year?”

“Yes.”

Yes, I know. After my dispatch to the Academy was decided, I checked out the Academy’s schedule. This was something that wasn’t there last year, so I couldn’t believe it after seeing it on this year’s schedule.

School trip? Was it necessary in a fantasy world with a European atmosphere? Even if this was a romantic story made for the protagonists, this was too much. It’s blatantly setting an atmosphere for something to happen.

“There was a lot of deliberation since this was the first school trip. The original plan was to go to a nearby territory, but…”

Marghetta suddenly stopped and looked at me. What? What was she trying to say?

“Well, something came up in the middle of our discussion. So, we decided on Boyar.”

“What?”

My head went blank for a moment. Boyar? Was she talking about that Boyar? No. Maybe there was more than one place with that name.

“By Boyar, do you mean…?”

I asked, holding onto the last bit of hope, but Marghetta firmly answered while avoiding my gaze.

“It’s that Boyar that Carl’s thinking about.”

‘Damn it.’

I closed my eyes at the confirmation. Yes, there’s no way there’s more than one place with the name Boyar. There was only one place in the entire continent with that name.

It’s quite astonishing. In just one day, I got caught by the Mage Duchess, faced the Invincible Duke, and now this. It all happened within a few days. And I was just finally getting out of the shock caused by that duo.

‘So this time, it’s the Gold Duke.’

I achieved a triple combo. Boyar. Its official name was Duchy of Boyar. It was the territory where the Duke, known as the Gold Duke, lived.

Just when I realized that the Academy was like a fairytale, not only did they make me go outside, but also set the school trip’s destination to Boyar. It wasn’t even a remotely funny joke. Unfortunately, while Marghetta was good with most things, she lacked a bit of humor.

Please say it’s a joke. This is just crisis after crisis, after another crisis.