The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL]-Chapter 920: Down Memory Lane

Too late.

Definitely too late.

Every time someone’s eyes sparkled, Curtis felt like sinking further into the ground.

He had initially assumed they’d ask painful questions about Enzo. About his disappearance. About Tavian’s stupidity and his likely connection to the Federation. Heck, he even assumed they’d want to know exactly what the witch had been planning to do today.

Of course, Curtis’s mind conveniently kept skipping the fact that about half the people inside this booth had probably seen him locking lips with Eden. His mind could be selective like that when it came to protecting what little remained of his sanity.

But much to his surprise, the questions they asked left him completely dumbfounded.

"Since when have you known each other?"

"Have you always fought since you were little?"

"Considering how you fight every day, who would normally apologize?"

Curtis actually shook his head once, as if to check whether his hearing had malfunctioned.

What happened to the inquisition related to national security?

He tried to glance toward the Prince for clarification, but Xavier only sat there with a straight back, looking appropriately menacing if not for the intense shifts in his expression whenever his wife glanced his way.

Just what was happening?

A procession leading to his eventual social death, apparently.

Eden leaned back in her seat as if this were the most casual gathering in the world.

"Since when have we known each other, you ask?"

She snorted softly. "Well, because they came to visit when I was born, I practically saw him the first time I opened my eyes, so there’s that. He was always around. He felt like a fixture in our house. If you moved the furniture, he’d probably still be standing there somewhere."

A few cadets covered their mouths.

"Have you always fought since you were little?"

"Of course," Eden replied without hesitation. "He was insufferable when he was younger."

Curtis closed his eyes briefly and wanted to argue about the truth of those words.

"If I had the emotional range of a folding chair, because I was either too open or completely clammed up," she continued, "then he used to argue with a brick wall and walk away convinced he’d actually won."

Several heads turned toward Curtis.

"And as he grew up, he became so rigid that I’m honestly surprised he can still bend his knees."

Princess Tharkira let out an undignified snort.

"Hmm... As for who would apologize..."

Eden tilted her head as if genuinely considering the question.

"When we were younger, we were forced to apologize to each other," she said. "They’d make us wear this ridiculous ’get-along shirt.’ One shirt. Two people. We’d have to stay in it for hours until we looked like we’d resolved whatever conflict we were having."

The cadets blinked.

"Sometimes the arguments were over something as stupid as breathing or existing that morning. Sometimes it was because we were fighting over who got to go with my brother Enzo for training."

She shrugged.

"But honestly, there was barely any need for apologies. The next day would just reset everything. We’d fight again anyway. So what was the point?"

Curtis listened quietly.

Despite himself, he was dragged to walk down memory lane. Back to when arguments ended with ridiculous shirts instead of military review. Back to when everything was simpler and far more straightforward.

But reminiscing didn’t last long.

Because the cadets seemed to be hellbent on expediting his walk with just one offhand comment:

"Wow. They apparently don’t apologize and make up every time they fight, and yet it’s still possible to kiss like that?"

Silence.

Curtis felt his soul attempt to leave his body.

Too late.

Definitely too late.

Curtis’s head snapped toward Eden so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

No way she was really about to answer that, right?

Well, the answer hit him all at once, followed immediately by the heat rushing up his neck. His ears burned. His face felt like it was on fire. He opened his mouth, closed it, then stared at her as if she were about to commit a crime against common decency.

But what had he expected?

Eden was batshit crazy. And for a shot at getting her brother back, who wouldn’t answer?

Only he himself was surprised by her answer.

"Have you guys never tried it?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Curtis pinched the bridge of his nose.

Sure enough, she didn’t need backup. This woman needed supervision. Round the clock. Possibly with a handler and an especially customized guidebook.

Yet instead of the cadets descending on her for that shameless response, Curtis watched in disbelief as their gazes collectively slid over to Princess Kira.

The Orc Princess had gone a shade of red that didn’t exist in nature.

But what could the newly kissed princess even say?

She wanted to raise a board with a bold 10/10 written on it, but all she managed was lifting her hand and making an awkward gesture, three fingers up while her thumb and index formed a small circle.

It was a moment to remember.

However, to their surprise, Eden leaned forward slightly, eyes glinting with dangerous enthusiasm.

"Right? Wasn’t it like desperately fighting for air while constantly wanting to give it away?" she asked, as if describing something perfectly reasonable.

"!"

"Eh???"

Several cadets stared at her.

One prince looked scandalized. Others looked like they had just unlocked a forbidden achievement.

Princess Kira blinked, visibly startled.

"Oh," she said slowly, curiosity replacing embarrassment. "No... mine wasn’t like that."

All heads turned toward her again.

"I was really mad at first. But when it happened, the anger kind of melted off."

Eden’s grin widened.

"Ah," she said knowingly. "Then that’s something else. That’s nice too. But I was talking about the kind that’s so charged that mouths just clash the moment they collide."

Curtis reconsidered his entire existence.

In front of him, one blonde raised his hand, eyes wide with fascination. "So it really happens even without conflict resolution?"

Eden tilted her head, the edge of her lips curling up before she let out a small sigh.

"That’s just it," she said. "The intense frustration because it’s so wrong, but at the same time, it feels so right."

"Even more so with angry se—"

Curtis covered Eden’s mouth.

Immediately.

Firmly.

For the sake of everyone’s sanity.

For a fleeting moment, he experienced the rare blessing of divine timing, because a clear announcement rang throughout DG’s booth, cutting through the chaos.

"May we have your attention, please. The cooking class is scheduled to begin in twenty minutes. Registered participants should proceed to the venue ten minutes before the start time."

"!!!"

Luca visibly wilted.

He’d been leaning forward, eyes bright, clearly prepared to ask more questions about the period of separation they’d gone through, only to be cruelly reminded that responsibilities existed. They had already prepared everything as fast as they could before the meeting, but they really shouldn’t risk being late for something important.

Xavier, on the other hand, looked nothing short of relieved.

The thought of having to explain any of that to his little wife made his temples ache.

What if Luca developed an appreciation for something new again?

Would he have to start pretending to fight over toothpaste caps? Or bicker over absolutely nothing under the sun? Moreover, what if he, too, got addicted to kissing everywhere and anywhere?