Side Story 3

The generous gods granted his wish. It wasn’t much, so maybe that’s why.  

From then on, Alexandra and Reinhardt began exchanging notes.  

He used the alias ‘Dear’, after the stag that symbolized his family. But Alexandra never seemed to notice. That made sense; she wouldn’t know the noble family’s crest. But it was fine.  

She was warm, gentle, innocent, and lovely in her notes.  

[My dad still thinks I’m a little kid.  

His letters are just full of worries.  

He has no idea how strong his daughter is.]  

She revealed her gender so easily.  

[I beat a second-year senior today!  

Would it be too smug to say I knew I’d win?  

But I fought that senior in my head a bunch of times,  

and I was sure I’d win!]  

She showed her cute sense of pride.  

[Some guy asked me to hang out this weekend,  

but I turned him down because it was a hassle.  

Dear, don’t you have people like that? People who want to hang out on weekends?  

Somehow, just reading your notes, I feel like you’d have a line of people waiting!]  

Thankfully, she seemed good at shooing away the flies buzzing around her.  

The more notes he exchanged with her, the more his desire grew.  

He wanted to become someone meaningful to her. At first, he thought being nameless was enough, but not anymore. He wanted to leave his mark on her. He wanted to become an indelible scar in her life. He couldn’t help being selfish—Alexandra made him so thirsty…  

In the end, he did something reckless.  

Before the coming-of-age ball, he ordered a brooch engraved with a white stag. He couldn’t ask Alexandra to be his partner—she’d refuse. But she would accept a brooch from ‘Dear’. Reinhardt imagined her wearing it at the ball, admiring the careful craftsmanship.  

Sure enough, Alexandra was delighted and wore the brooch to the ball. Even though Matthias was by her side—the quick-witted guy stuck close to Alexandra just to annoy Reinhardt—he could endure it. Matthias seemed to realize who’d given her the brooch, but didn’t tell her.  

All through the ball, Reinhardt’s eyes were fixed on Alexandra. Then he found his chance and cut in as her dance partner.  

Alexandra’s eyes wavered when she saw him, but she didn’t refuse. Her flushed cheeks and slightly sweet breath told him she’d had a drink. Seeing the brooch hanging near her chest made his face muscles relax.  

As soon as the song ended, Alexandra tried to escape, but Reinhardt couldn’t let her go.  

There might not be another chance after tonight.  

He, the coward, might end up choosing family over Alexandra.  

To prepare for that future, Reinhardt decided to make a small memory for himself.  

“The dance continues, so have another with me.”  

She looked reluctant, but Alexandra didn’t shake off his hand. Her body, wrapped in his arm, was so small. When his hand touched her, she tried to pull away. He couldn’t let her.  

Just for this moment, she had to be in his arms. He couldn’t let her go. Reinhardt tightened his embrace, pulling Alexandra close. Her short gasp was delightful. Their bodies began to drift slowly across the ballroom.  

What should he say? Alexandra kept her mouth shut, showing no sign of speaking first. Reinhardt gazed at her face for a long time, then finally spoke the first words that came to mind, carefully.  

“You look… really good today.”

“It’s an honor to hear that from you, Young Duke.”

“I mean it.”

“Well, thanks?”

Alexandra’s radiant smile made Reinhardt’s mind spin. He was utterly defenseless against her laughter; his heart felt ready to burst. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her tightly in his arms, cup her cheeks, kiss her deeply, and whisk her away to somewhere private where only the two of them existed.

Just thinking about that made his lower body tense. 

‘D*mn it.’

He didn’t want to get slapped by Alexandra for losing control while dancing, so he desperately tried to calm himself.

Unaware of the torment Reinhardt was enduring, Alexandra joked about when he’d finally lose to her. As he answered, he managed to suppress his rising desire. He truly meant it when he said he was always ready to face her blade, though he wasn’t sure if Alexandra took his words at face value.

The hem of her dress brushed against his legs, tangled and untangled again. Their steps crossed, then moved side by side, then tangled once more.

Soon, words faded between them. Reinhardt imagined the two of them alone in the vast ballroom. He wanted to confess to her—that he was Dear, the one who knew her secret thoughts. But that was a confession he could never make.

He could only hope when he saw her eyes linger on the ornament attached to his cravat. He had deliberately matched his cravat ornament to Alexandra’s brooch, both carved with the same stag motif. But Alexandra never asked about it. He felt a small disappointment, but quietly let her go.

That night, Alexandra appeared again in his dreams. But unlike usual, she wore the dress from earlier that day. Ah, he must truly be a dog. Or perhaps an incurable pervert.

In his dream, he immediately pushed Alexandra down and buried his head under the hem of her dress. The humid heat and Alexandra’s deep scent overwhelmed him. After sparring with her, he often caught a whiff of that sweet, fresh fragrance.

He buried his face between her legs and devoured her greedily. The sound of Alexandra’s panting through the thick fabric and the trembling of her thighs satisfied him. He wanted more—just a little more, he wanted to feel Alexandra even closer.

Tearing her underwear with both hands was nothing. When his lips and tongue touched her soft skin, Alexandra whimpered. Ah, he hadn’t meant to make her cry. But this base desire couldn’t be sated by anyone but her. He grinned wickedly and pushed his tongue inside.

Her body was sweet—so sweet it hurt. And at some point, he realized it was a dream. The moment he recognized it, he woke up. The soaked underwear was just pathetic.

No matter how much he desired Alexandra, he knew she’d never truly be his.

Even so, Reinhardt considered himself lucky. After all, being born as the only heir to a great noble house and living without any hardship was the very definition of luck.

The day he promised to continue sparring alone with Alexandra, he was so happy he nearly cried. All those years of training himself to restrain his emotions as the Young Duke had paid off.

He deliberately called her out to the secluded garden behind the professors’ building, away from prying eyes. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with her.

Alexandra was an indefatigable challenger. She knew all his sword techniques, found gaps, and even created fake openings to lure him in.

Her unpredictable swordplay always thrilled Reinhardt. When their swords clashed, his mind cleared. Only Alexandra’s eyes and her blade filled his vision. It was so fulfilling that everything else seemed trivial.

But during their sparring, he was always careful not to manifest his aura. As the former Captain of Wiesbaden had said, Reinhardt had become able to use aura not long after the New Year’s ball. But he kept it secret.

‘It’s best not to reveal all your abilities while the political situation is uncertain.’

His mother had asked him to hide his power, citing the tense atmosphere in the royal family. Reinhardt agreed and concealed his aura. With most opponents, he had no need to use it.

But Alexandra wasn’t “most people.” To spar with her, he had to give his all. Sometimes, the unfamiliar power within him threatened to surface.

He feared that if he lost control and used that power, Alexandra might get hurt…

Fortunately, during their private matches, he never made a mistake.

But in front of everyone, he slipped—and it was Alexandra who suffered for it.

Alexandra was relentless when it came to swords. Her determination to beat him—gritting her teeth and refusing to give up—was so adorable and lovable that Reinhardt was at a loss, but he never expected things to turn out as they did.

* * *

Instinctively, Reinhardt deflected Alexandra’s blade as it flew toward his neck. There was no way she hadn’t found a gap in his defense after countless matches. She was that obsessed with the sword, that hungry for victory.

She was especially frustrated that she’d never beaten him. She must have wanted, at least once, to defeat him in front of everyone.

If Reinhardt were even a little bit cunning, he might have let her win in that moment, smiling as she celebrated. Losing to Alexandra wouldn’t have been a problem. But that would have been a lie.

He was foolishly incapable of deceit. If Alexandra ever found out he’d let her win, she would be furious, so he had no regrets about deflecting her blade.

But it happened in a moment he wasn’t consciously aware of. For all his discipline and self-control, there were times he couldn’t help himself. Seeing the blade coming for his throat, his body did everything it could to protect itself.

And so, he accidentally revealed his aura.

The aura-clad blade sliced through the blunt practice sword with ease. Reinhardt’s face twisted in dismay. Alexandra’s face, by contrast, went blank.

“My gosh, did Young Duke Reinhardt just use aura?”

Suddenly, the crowd erupted in noise. But none of it reached Reinhardt. All he saw was Alexandra’s stunned expression.

She stared at her broken sword, eyes blinking. Reinhardt didn’t know what to do. Was it a sin to hide his ability to use aura? No, it wasn’t a sin. But he knew—Alexandra would be angry that he’d kept it secret.

He carefully picked up the broken blade and held it out to her. His heart pounded mercilessly. What should he say? His mouth wouldn’t open. His mind didn’t work, his face muscles stiffened. Seeing him mute, Alexandra let out a hollow laugh.

“Was it fun?”

“What…?”

“Did you enjoy watching me struggle to beat someone who’s already reached mastery?”

Alexandra’s pale face trembled, her lips shaking.

“Reinhardt, you must have thought I was pathetic.”

“Alexandra, wait…”

‘It wasn’t like that… Please, listen to me.’

He wanted to tell her he never meant to deceive her. There was a reason he had to keep it secret, and he’d always been sincere with her. He wanted to say all that.

But he couldn’t say a word. For the first time, he saw tears in Alexandra’s eyes. No matter how tough the training, no matter what people said behind her back, Alexandra never cried. Even when she was defeated by his sword, she got up bravely—never cried.

His heart felt like it was being torn apart.

He wanted to beg her to forgive him, to plead that he was sorry. But his lips were glued shut.

Then Alexandra whispered in a tiny voice.

“Forgive me for daring to try to beat someone as amazing as you, Young Duke Odenwald. You warned me from the beginning.”

‘No, that’s not it.’

His tongue was frozen. Reinhardt could only watch as Alexandra declared her defeat and turned away. He had no energy to answer the cheers and questions from those grabbing and shaking him.

He should have stopped her. Explained himself, even if it sounded like an excuse. He shouldn’t have let her go. He needed to tell her the truth.

But he, the coward, just let Alexandra walk away.