Side Story 2

He decided to build a good relationship with the nameless girl.  

But it started off awkwardly. First, the problem was that she sat next to him at the entrance ceremony. He hadn’t expected her to be so close.  

He was first in the class, so she must have been second. Her skills were impressive. But he didn’t have the energy to admire that.  

“Excuse me, hello?”

To be honest, he’d heard many elegant voices in his life. But none as attractive as the girl’s. So he had to tense his jaw.  

‘Crazy b*stard…’

Just hearing her voice made him feel strange. He’d thought he was human, but realized he was actually a beast.  

Just turning to look at her was exhausting. He had to calm himself not to run out of the ceremony. The slender girl next to him was still a stranger. Reinhardt, you lunatic. He didn’t even know how he answered.  

“Uh, I’m Alexandra Lindau. I’m in the same, swordsmanship division as you……”

“…Is that so?”

‘Really? Is that all I could say?’

If he could, he would have smacked himself on the back of the head.  

Anyway, he finally learned her name. Alexandra Lindau. And he immediately realized—she wasn’t a noble. That fact hit him hard.  

He’d hoped she was from some minor border noble family. Actually, he wanted that. The fact he didn’t know her face meant she was outside the range of “suitable partners” his parents talked about. If she was at least a noble, he could try to argue. But if she was a commoner… His mind was in turmoil.  

Then Alexandra asked him,  

“Um, nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

‘Ah, what should I do.’ 

Most people who exchanged names with him had similar reactions: admiration or fear. That was what it meant to be a grand noble—envied and coveted, but difficult to approach.  

If he revealed his name, how would Alexandra react? For the first time, Reinhardt felt afraid to say his name. He didn’t want to see her shrink away in fear, nor did he want to see her eyes sparkle as she tried to get close.  

“Reinhardt von Odenwald.”  

“Uh, um, so… Young Duke Odenwald…?”

The moment he saw the awkwardness flicker across Alexandra’s face, his heart sank. Would she fear and avoid him? He hated that idea. He didn’t want to hear words like ‘Young Duke’ from her. Without meaning to, he blurted out words to keep her close.  

“Just ‘Reinhardt’ is enough.”

“O-okay…”

“We’re entering the same year, so there’s no reason to use honorifics.”

Did she accept that? Alexandra nodded and soon sat up straight, looking at the podium. Reinhardt wanted to keep watching her, but thought of his parents watching from the VIP seats and just stared ahead.  

He could feel Alexandra glancing at him from the side. What sort of gaze was she giving him? If only he could peek inside her small head.  

Even while reading the declaration as the representative of new students, and greeting the principal and guests, Reinhardt’s eyes kept seeking Alexandra.  

He never imagined that, for a very long time afterward, he would only be able to look at her back.  

It was so easy for misunderstandings to pile up. Reinhardt valued Alexandra highly, but her ears heard more of the jealous voices around her than his own. And then there was his mouth, which tended to bring trouble…  

He had never worried about how others took his words. In his position, that was fine, and no one ever showed displeasure at what he said.  

If he traced the origin of his speech habits, it was obviously from his beloved parents, the Duke and Duchess. They didn’t even think about the concept of authority; everything they did and said was authority itself.  

No one accused them of arrogance. Reinhardt had absorbed their manner and lived that way.  

And he had no idea that this would immediately irritate Alexandra.  

Did his sincere advice really bother her so much? But reducing unnecessary movements and mingling with people of her own level were things he had to say.  

And what about people like Daniel von Schwerin, Hendrik Ensheder, and Erik von Nieville—how could they possibly be suitable for Alexandra? Those who had presumptuously approached her quickly understood and backed off after a simple warning.  

But none of his actions seemed to appeal to Alexandra. Wandering, unable to find the right path, Reinhardt finally sought an advisor.  

“Of course. The way you talk is so annoying.”  

Bianca von Bayreuth, Alexandra’s roommate and now her closest friend, said this while flicking her finger, eyes never leaving her book. Reinhardt tried not to frown as he picked up the book in front of her and tossed it behind him. Bianca glared at him, her eyes sharp.  

“See? Annoying.”  

“The way you talk is the problem. Isn’t it polite to look at someone’s face when you speak?”  

“First off, it’s that old-man tone. You sound just like His Grace the Duke.”  

At that, Reinhardt clamped his mouth shut. He’d never been conscious of it, but apparently he’d been taught to speak with dignity… Bianca curled one corner of her mouth and continued.  

“And your word choice is a disaster. You sound like you’re looking down on people.”  

“I’ve never spoken with that intention.”  

“That’s your problem, Young Duke. It just sounds that way. If you want to fix it now, it’ll take some work.”  

Bianca was an old frenemy who’d long since figured him out and even came to warn him. So he could ask her for advice.  

While Reinhardt was at a loss for words, Bianca clicked her tongue and pointed at him.  

“By the way, did you listen to my warning before?”  

“…I’m thinking about it.”  

“That’s something to think about?”  

Looking exasperated, Bianca poked his shoulder with her finger. She’d been getting ruder since entering the academy, and Reinhardt suspected the Marchioness would scold her soon.  

“Is it so hard to decide if you’ll just live as an heir, or actually try for real?”  

“That’s not something you can decide in an instant.”  

“Wow, you’re dumber than I thought.”  

He didn’t need her to point it out—he knew he was the biggest fool in the world. Nobody in the Kingdom of Konstanz would believe Reinhardt von Odenwald was so indecisive and cowardly.  

But he was still afraid. As much as he found Alexandra lovable, the thought of having to put down the weight of family and lineage on his shoulders was overwhelming.  

His whole life belonged to his family and lineage. To express his feelings to Alexandra properly, he would have to betray their expectations. He’d have to break every hope placed on him.  

Bianca seemed to notice his darkening expression and snorted.  

“Yeah. Must be hard to throw off your leash. How comfy is life as a well-trained dog?”  

It was a pretty insulting remark, but he couldn’t argue. She was right—he was nothing more or less than a well-trained dog. What was the difference between living as his parents wished and being a trained dog?  

Bianca didn’t comfort him as he sank deeper into gloom. She just warned him again: if her friend shed tears, he’d shed blood—literally, not just as a metaphor. Bianca meant it, and Reinhardt felt a chill down his spine.  

* * *  

Like a criminal spying on someone’s life, Reinhardt hovered around Alexandra, observing her daily routine. It was the best he could do. No, that was just an excuse—he simply wanted to know Alexandra.  

Then he discovered that Alexandra often went to the library. He also learned she borrowed romance novels and lyrical poetry there. Her favorite spot was the second row of the romance section. Alexa would stand there for a long time, rolling her round eyes, hugging books to her chest, and running out of the library. Every time Reinhardt saw her lips curve into a smile, he instinctively covered his own mouth. He didn’t want anyone to see his own smile.  

He hadn’t learned stealth for this, but Reinhardt hid his presence and followed Alexandra into the library. She would stand at the shelves, flipping through books, sometimes smiling faintly, sometimes widening her eyes, sometimes blushing or letting out a small gasp.  

Watching her like that was honestly delightful. Alexandra rarely showed him anything but a frowning face.  

Then one day, he saw her leave a slip of paper behind. That was a stroke of luck.  

With trembling hands, Reinhardt unfolded the note.  

[Is there anyone who could listen to my story? Even if you just listen, that would be enough.

Even if you don’t know me, is there someone who would hear me out and share thoughts?]

‘Here, I am!’

He wanted to run after her and say so. But Alexandra would never tell her story to him. She disliked him. It was a little sad, but Reinhardt didn’t have time to dwell on gloomy feelings. Right there, he pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a reply.  

[I want to hear your story.

I’ll listen to anything, so please leave a reply.

I’ll be waiting.]

Being a faceless listener wasn’t hard. Besides, Alexandra didn’t know his handwriting. Probably didn’t care, either.  

He folded the note carefully and placed it where Alexandra had left hers. He hoped she’d find it. That it would finally reach her. If only, even in this way, he could have a place in her heart. Even if he remained nameless, he’d be happy.