I Married the Beautiful Female Protagonist In Order To Survive

23. A Few Dishes, a Dose of Cephalosporin?

The news of Henry III’s triumphant return with his Knights sent the Great Ying Empire’s gossip-mongers into a frenzy for a few days, after which… the Great Ying Empire calmed down once more. Alas, after His Majesty Henry III’s return… there wasn’t much news. No earth-shattering “big stories” surfaced, and the Royal Academy students received no “shocking revelations” from their parents. What else was there to do but return to the mundane?

If one insisted on finding something amiss, it would probably be Zerola. Though he attended classes as usual, even boasting a surprisingly perfect attendance record, everyone, even the teachers, noticed: Zerola had been acting like a lost soul. A living corpse, some might say. He spoke not a word, merely going through the motions in a mechanical fashion.

Anyone with half a brain knew: it was because Filora hadn’t been to the Academy lately, causing him to lose faith and turn into a zombie. Ha, Filora, the unattainable “Goddess,” the “White Swan” perched atop the Great Ying Empire. The latest buzz was that Henry III had likely returned to become betrothed to her.

A pretty boy like you, constantly scrounging meals off other women, pining so desperately for her? Serves you right! Haha!

But Zerola not even bothering to react… suddenly made things less amusing.

At this moment, it wasn’t that Zerola didn’t care about the students’ jests. It was that… he hadn’t heard a single word spoken, not even this morning’s lesson. The only thing that could elicit a response from Zerola was the word “dismissed,” because…

Not only was his stomach growling, but… Mel at the Student Council room was surely waiting for him, as usual.

Remaining silent and dragging his heavy feet, Zerola arrived at the Student Council room to find it, predictably, occupied only by Mel. He plopped down at the table.

He’d lost count of how many days this had been going on, so… Mel finally reached her breaking point.

The elf placed the lunchbox before Zerola, a distressed sigh escaping her lips as she tried to mask her pain.

“While the Great Ying Empire truly didn’t pursue the matter afterwards, treating that night as if it never happened… look at you. You insisted on ‘making a clean break,’ and after doing so, all you got was a slap in the face, and now you’re like this… it would have been better if you hadn’t stirred up that big story in the first place.”

“…”

Zerola didn’t reply, transforming into a heartless eating machine. After all, feelings were feelings, but an empty stomach couldn’t be ignored with a simple “I’m not in the mood.”

More complaints came from the elf, forcing Zerola to muster a little energy to deal with them.

“Didn’t you choose this yourself? You had so many ways to stall, yet you insisted on choosing the most direct one. Ugh… You chase after Filora every day, don’t you know… her personality is even more haughty than yours?”

True enough, but… Mel was also wrong.

“I wanted to be direct. Otherwise, she would never have realized. And… that Henry III was practically dragging Filora straight to the bridal chamber. You want me to stall? Stall what? Wait until their kid is born?”

“Then don’t regret it, acting like a lost soul for days on end…”

“…”

Zerola didn’t answer Mel’s almost petulant complaints. Whether he regretted it or not, and how he felt… seemed irrelevant.

He just… wanted to know, even slightly, what Filora was doing now, what she was thinking, after delivering that crisp slap to his face that day. Even if it was only in his heart, had she “understood” the freedom he was desperately sharing? Had she comprehended the “sincerity” he risked everything to tell her?

Or… was his “sacrifice” even worth it?

He was about to continue eating when, suddenly… Zerola realized Mel’s figure was gone!

Immediately, a faint floral scent wafted in, and Zerola sensed something behind him… the warmth only a young woman could provide, and a soft touch.

Mel had embraced him from behind!

It was too sudden, yet somehow expected… leaving Zerola unsure what to do, frozen in place, maintaining the pose!

Soon, the elf’s low murmur, filled with a hint of anticipation, tickled Zerola’s ear, soft and gentle.

“It’s all over, Zerola… After graduating from the Academy, how about going to my elven country of Prus together?”

“…”

“What I told the Queen of the Great British Empire wasn’t a lie, you know? I can get you an honorary citizenship of the Prussian Kingdom. And after that… you won’t have to stay in the Great British Empire anymore. You won’t have to… notice her, actively or passively, anymore.”

“…”

“We’ve done what we needed to do. If Fiora understands later, she definitely won’t blame you. Right now… we don’t have to cling to these meaningless thoughts. Now… lick your wounds in front of me. I won’t think you’re pathetic.”

“…”

Zerola didn’t respond.

After all… he really was hesitating. On one side, a one-sided expectation and pursuit with no future. On the other, a warm embrace, no less than the former, and a decent future, easily attainable with just a slight turn of the head, a little vulnerability. When the two were compared…

It even made the emotion called “infatuation” temporarily dissipate, losing its importance.

He was just a poor kid, a free spirit. He knew it was unlikely he’d have any further involvement with that “white swan.” But… behind him stood a spirit, no less beautiful than the “white swan” if you looked closely. And she… was willing to accept his thoughts, his actions.

Wouldn’t hesitate… right.

Except…

“Taking advantage of the situation, Mehl. You’re being a little despicable right now.”

“I never said I was helping Fiora out of kindness, you know?”

Except…

If he nodded, what difference would there be between him and Fiora right now? He was the one who arrogantly lectured her on “reason” that night, showed her the “future.” Now, he was setting a bad example?

Unacceptable, and…

“No need.”

Zerola stood up, freeing himself from Mehl’s embrace.

The previous gloom and listlessness vanished, his face replaced with a renewed fighting spirit!

Even if it was just an act, he had to act the part! Act until the future arrived, until the act became real!

“Heh heh, I won’t be brought down by this little setback! Watch me become a Ninth-Order Saint, then give the people of the Great British Empire a good thrashing, beat up that Henry III, and finally snatch Fiora back!”

Surprise, bewilderment, but ultimately…

Mehl revealed a relieved smile, tinged with a hint of loss.

“How many dishes did you have? Drunk like this? I didn’t give you any strong liquor today, did I?”