Chapter 3:

Learning

A Delinquent Reborn as a Royal!?


Justinius clutched his fist as the tutor wrote on the chalkboard. His betrothed held his arm, trying to calm him down and pleading silently with her eyes for him not to make a scene. Finally the tutor finished writing, and turned around.

“We’ll start as always with… Oh, Lady Beckinghall,” He made a deep bow, “I’m surprised to see you here with…” His eyes turned towards Justinius, and he flinched, almost falling backwards as they locked eyes. “My… Prince… You… look very different today.” He coughed awkwardly, regaining his composure. “As I was saying, we’ll start as always with a hypothetical, drawn from the long history of our kingdom of Bizantos. It’s probably not one that you’re aware of…” he smiled, looking up at the prince, but he quickly looked away again, coughing awkwardly, “so please treat it as a novel situation. I’ll give you a few minutes to think it through, my prince.” He made a deep bow, before scurrying off to the edge of the room and sitting down. Justinius glared at him. His smartly coiffed hair, sharp features, and elegant ebony glasses made him appear more a model than a tutor. He was the only person that Justinius had seen so far not dressed in robes. Instead he wore black slacks and a white shirt with lots of frills around the neck. He questioned how such a young man got a post like that in the first place. He finally turned to the board, his eyes still sharp from anger, and froze when he saw the words written there. It was complete gibberish. He had been lulled into a false sense of security when he found that he could understand everyone perfectly here, but apparently, he couldn’t read.

“Hey.” He whispered, but Lady Beckinghall seemed lost in thought, perhaps coming up with her own answer to the scenario. “Hey.” He said again, nudging her with his elbow. Her spell of thought was broken, and she looked up at the prince with her piercing blue eyes.

“Yes, my prince?” He shuddered. He didn’t know who this prince was before, but he seemed to have a low reputation with the people who knew him. He had just earned her respect, and considering all the ground he had to gain, he couldn’t afford to lose that respect, but… but…

“My prince?”

“What does that say?” He whispered under his breath.

“What was that?” Justinius grit his teeth, and looked down.

“What does that say?” He said, still barely audible.

“You… don’t know?” She asked, looking up at him as though she were staring a hole through him.

“I… My eyes hurt. Maybe because I was poisoned last night.” He said pointedly. His princess-to-be looked away, ashamed, and he felt a prick of shame himself. “Regardless, tell me what it means.”

“It says ‘A messenger from our long-time ally Bohemius has just arrived asking for assistance in a battle against Jongho, with whom we have just established a beneficial trade agreement. If we refuse, then Bohemius will lose an important outpost near our border, causing them to rethink their alliance with us, but if we send troops and Jongho sees our standards, they may rethink the trade agreement. What is the best course of action?’” She said, still refusing to look up at Justinius. He looked down at her shame ridden expression, and reached his arm out to her shoulder, but pulled back before touching her. He sat with his hands in his lap for a moment, then slowly reached out and grabbed her hand. She finally looked up at him.

“I already told you. I forgive you, so don’t worry about it anymore.” Tears began to well up in her eyes as she clutched his hand.

“Alright!” The tutor stood up from his seat. “That should be enough time. What is your answer, my Prince?” He said, almost ingratiatingly. Justinius had not thought much about it, but it made him think of something he remembered from when he was leading his bike gang. Though he had been killed by traitors in his gang, he thought he mostly did a good job. He had to figure out why they had turned on him if he was going to learn how to be the best leader he could be.

“Lie. Say our troops are somewhere else doing something, but offer to give them money to hire mercenaries.” The tutor looked horrified.

“Lie? You would allow the royal name to be besmirched by such a thing as lying?”

“It’s clearly the best solution. This way our ally can still win the battle and be grateful to us for our help, while to Jongho it won’t seem like we participated.”

“No. Such an action is beneath royalty. It is more honorable to choose our close ally than to pay heed to a simple trade deal.” Justinius stood up out of his chair.

“I am royalty, so I decide what is beneath us, and I say that losing out on a trade deal for no good reason is what is truly dishonorable.” They glared at each other, their gazes practically sparking from their fiery passions, when someone appeared in the door.

“You should give up on him, Glauckonus.” Justinius turned towards the voice, and saw someone wearing the same style of robes that he was wearing. He was younger, probably the same age as Justinius, with chestnut brown hair that swept back like a lion’s mane. “You know how much of an idiot he is.” Justinius turned his glare to this new figure, and when they met eyes, he continued speaking. “I even heard him asking Lady Beckinghall how to read what you had written.” He began laughing haughtily, as Justinius turned red. He pushed the table over as he walked over to him, and grabbed him by his collar.

“Wha… What are you doing?! Unhand me this instant!” The terror that flashed in his face made Justinius smile, and he let go, but not before sticking his foot out behind him, causing him to trip backwards.

“You… Fiend!” The boy said, looking up at him after falling on his butt. “You disgraceful little…” He got to his feet clumsily. “I challenge you to defend your honor! This evening before dinner at the sword yard!” He turned and stormed off. Justinius was confused.

“Defend my honor?” He asked himself. Lady Beckinghall ran out to him.

“Prince Justinius! Don’t do it! Please! It’s too dangerous!” He turned to her.

“What does that even mean?”

“A duel!”

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