The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent-Chapter 287

Time passed, and the academy reopened.

There was no mandatory education in this world. Naturally, there were no set hours of required schooling either. The academy was essentially a substitute for high school, but unlike in my previous world, there was no rule about shortening breaks to make up for missed class time.

But while there were no such rules, money did exist.

And the Imperial Academy demanded quite a lot of it.

For imperial citizens, the royal family covered the full cost, and even for foreigners, a substantial portion was subsidized. But that didn’t mean the academy itself was free.

From the perspective of those managing the imperial treasury, having less class time was a deeply frustrating notion. The empire was investing significant sums into nurturing future talents—or at the very least, fostering pro-imperial sympathies among the students. If class time were cut, it would feel like part of that investment was being wasted.

Ironically, because the tuition was funded by the imperial family, the academy couldn’t get away with saying, “Well, due to circumstances, some classes had to be canceled.”

As a result, the academy’s winter break was entirely canceled.

Plenty of students were complaining, but what could they do? It wasn’t like the academy itself made this decision—this was something the imperial family had pushed for.

“We really do need to tighten the budget.”

When this topic came up, Alice furrowed her brows slightly.

“The main perpetrators were arrested, so the situation was technically resolved, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t negotiations happening in the background. Considering the fact that the mastermind was none other than the Emperor himself, some kind of reparations had to be made.”

“The biggest damage was suffered by the Holy Nation, though, wasn’t it?”

At my question, Alice nodded.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean the Belvurian soldiers came out unscathed. Some were severely injured trying to break through the barrier. It wasn’t a full-scale war, so it didn’t turn into a nation-wide compensation issue, but the imperial family still had to handle it. The good news is that the expenses didn’t have to come from the empire’s treasury—only from the royal family’s funds. But that also means the budget is tight this year. There’s no way we can refund the tuition fees that were already paid.”

The empire’s treasury and the royal family’s budget were two entirely separate things.

The imperial budget was strictly designated for the governing of the empire—it was state money. Even though the imperial family ruled the empire, they couldn’t just dip into it for personal use. That would be like a president treating the national treasury as their own personal bank account.

Likewise, even if the empire was struggling financially, the royal family couldn’t demand money from the national treasury. The imperial budget and the royal budget were entirely separate matters.

If some clueless noble ever suggested, “Why not use the royal family’s budget?” the Emperor could just as easily reply, “Then why don’t you contribute some of your family’s funds?”

The academy operated on tuition fees paid by the royal family. That was why it was called the Imperial Rondarium Academy—not the National Rondarium Academy.

“So, we have to make sure we get our money’s worth,” Alice said, straightening her uniform.

“No need to be so negative about it, right? At least we’ll get to see our friends again. And you liked the food at that café near the academy.”

...Well.

She wasn’t wrong.

I had liked that café.

I had liked it enough to rewind time repeatedly just to try everything on the menu.

But that wasn’t the point.

“And there are still school events left to do. Like the cultural festival.”

Ah.

Right. That was a thing.

In games, manga, or light novels, if there was any depiction of middle or high school life, a cultural festival was practically mandatory. Even in stories that completely skipped over things like club activities or actual classes, cultural festivals always managed to make an appearance.

And in these festivals, the cute girls always ended up in cosplay.

Usually as waitresses or maids.

Honestly, the only real difference between the two outfits seemed to be how colorful they were.

...And in a way, I was a cute girl character.

“Why do you look like that?”

“...It’s nothing.”

Alice immediately picked up on my expression and questioned me, but I quickly shook my head.

Well, she was right about one thing—I didn’t particularly like the idea of skipping the second semester entirely.

And it wasn’t like I’d be the only one in cosplay.

*

Alice wasn’t as much of a morning person as Claire or Leo, but she was still incredibly diligent. By the time we arrived at the academy, there weren’t that many students who had arrived before us.

It had been a while since I last stepped foot here, and the familiarity of the place hit me all at once. Thinking about it, the academy wasn’t even that far from the imperial palace.

As I sat at my desk, briefly organizing the materials for today’s lessons, a familiar voice called out.

“Alice, Sylvia.”

There was only one person in my circle who called Alice Alis.

“Charlotte.”

And similarly, the only one who referred to Charlotte by the imperial pronunciation Charlot was Alice.

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“Did you have a good break?”

“Break?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at Alice’s casual greeting.

“I was buried under work. Especially since I was directly involved in the battle. I had to go around giving testimonies and reports—I barely had any time to rest.”

She let out a small grumble before smiling at us.

“Well, not as busy as you two, though.”

That was true. No matter how busy Charlotte had been, she probably hadn’t been as swamped as us.

In the end, Belvur still had its king. And he was still in good health. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, he’d probably sit on the throne for another twenty years at least.

So even though Charlotte was the rightful heir, there was no rush for her to take over responsibilities just yet. She could take her time, learn what she needed at a steady pace, and step into the role of crown princess when the timing was right.

Her workload had been an incident-specific kind of busy—something that had only temporarily overwhelmed her due to the recent crisis.

On the other hand, the workload Alice and I had inherited... was /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ still piling up.

We had years of training ahead of us, at the very least. Alice had delayed her succession training under the excuse of attending the academy, but that was only because the sheer volume of what she needed to learn was terrifying.

With the Emperor imprisoned, the nobles had begun pressing Alice—the most immediate successor—to begin her transition into leadership. And behind their nagging was an unspoken message: If you can’t handle this, maybe someone else should take the throne.

Honestly, considering how eerily well the Gryphon seemed to understand human speech, I half-expected it to bite off some noble’s head one of these days. But since no one was outright saying it aloud, they were still safe. For now.

“Thanks for worrying about us,” Alice said with a small laugh, brushing off Charlotte’s teasing.

It was true that we had risked our lives fighting. And the situation had escalated even further when the goddess got involved. In a way, we had been part of an event that completely changed the future of the world.

The Emperor was still awaiting trial.

And so were the other children who undoubtedly carried his blood.

The dispute between Belvur and the Empire was far from settled, which was why the Emperor was still being held in Lutetia’s noble-only prison. His final fate remained undecided.

In the original story, Charlotte and Alice had clashed over much smaller disputes than this. They were close friends, but both of them had strong pride.

But now, there was no sign of that tension in their smiles.

The way they argued over food at that café before felt worlds apart from how they interacted now.

Maybe fighting alongside someone in battle really did forge a deeper bond.

“The Gryphon’s still in the palace, I assume?”

“Well, I can’t exactly bring it to the academy.”

“I half expected you to ride it here.”

“...If I actually tried to use it as a carriage replacement, it would definitely get mad.”

Charlotte’s comment made me pause. I wasn’t sure if she was joking or being completely serious.

But the slight droop in her shoulders when she heard the Gryphon wasn’t here told me that at least half of her had been hoping for it.

...Was she treating it like a pet dog or something?

Then again, if I really thought about it, the Gryphon did have a bit of that energy.

The problem was that it ate as much as an entire pig. And, well... what came out of it was about the size of a pig too.

Not that I had to personally feed or clean up after it, so I wasn’t too concerned.

...Still, now that I was thinking about it, I suddenly felt bad for the people who did take care of it.

Maybe once this semester ended, I should look into raising their salaries.