Chapter 37…
“Teacher!”
Ellie’s way of addressing him had changed.
If someone was just there to administer a test, he was simply “Mister,” but if that person answered her questions, then he was a “Teacher.”
“Hmm?”
Lombaton noticed the new title, raised an eyebrow, and looked down at Ellie.
“How did you become a teacher?”
“Hmm? Do you mean my title as a great scholar?”
“You teach students at the academy!”
“That’s right. …Ah, yes, I suppose that makes me a teacher.”
“Yeah! Then how did you become one?”
“Ah!”
Only then did Lombaton understand what Ellie was really asking.
It wasn’t that she was unusually precocious—it’s just that once she learned about one path, she immediately began exploring others.
“What a talent.”
It was a pity she was destined to be a queen—he couldn’t simply take her to the academy.
Lombaton clicked his tongue regretfully.
Still, perhaps not now, but maybe after she inherited the throne… or even much later, he might somehow bring her to the academy.
His desire to recruit such talent wouldn’t go away.
“Scholarly thought only blooms when one has leisure.”
If survival itself is a struggle, one cannot devote oneself to learning, which produces no bread.
Only once Ellie’s royal authority was firmly established would such leisure exist.
Lombaton resolved to fully support the establishment of Ellie’s independent monarchy.
“I became a great scholar because I was the best student at the academy,” he said proudly.
“Then why not make the academy teachers my teachers too?”
That, indeed, was what Lombaton wanted most.
Of course, since he still had academy duties, he couldn’t stay in Nerendis to teach her himself, but teachers could be sent in turns, or lessons could be exchanged by letter—there were many ways.
“However, Your Highness, scholarship and actual politics are quite different. Would such studies really help you?”
This time, the question came not from Duke Wheaton but from someone else—concerned yet reasonable.
It was an understandable worry, even if somewhat conservative.
“Are you belittling the value of academic study?”
Before Ellie could answer, Lombaton spoke sharply in her defense.
Even his pride was pricked, and his eyes turned cool.
“International affairs are ever-changing. The academy’s teachings are founded upon principles and fundamentals.”
“With a strong foundation, one can adapt to change.”
“But even the best scholars couldn’t predict that a lady from the Relt family would break her engagement to become a knight—thereby turning the Soln family into enemies. However knowledgeable one may be.”
Lombaton fell silent.
He couldn’t deny that.
Academia dealt in formulas—but the numbers in those formulas could only be understood through firsthand experience.
Learning principles was important, but practical governance required that kind of information too.
In that sense, Nerendis’ nobles were indeed necessary alongside the academy’s scholars.
“……”
“……”
The air between Lombaton and the nobles crackled sharply.
Finally, both sides turned toward Ellie.
“Your Highness, what do you think?”
“Please make a decision!”
It was the first time a decision had been placed in Ellie’s hands.
“Ummm…”
From Ellie’s point of view, the scholars—who were kinder and easier to talk to—were preferable to the stiff nobles.
But after listening, she realized even scholars didn’t know everything.
If she said “both,” they’d probably start arguing again…
As she pondered, Ellie looked toward Cleas.
He gazed back calmly, trusting her entirely. Though small among all those towering adults, her presence wasn’t the least bit overshadowed.
The Berndt family, she remembered, trained even their children like adults. That must be why.
“Oh?”
That word—“like adults”—sparked an idea in Ellie’s mind.
“I’ll decide it fairly!”
The room buzzed with curiosity.
“Fairly?”
“Is there a fair way to decide?”
Again, the question of how.
Ellie smiled brightly.
If I have to study this hard, adults should study too!
“There are books, aren’t there?”
“Hmm…?”
“We’ll pick the person who can memorize and write the most!”
“What?!”
Gasps echoed among the adults.
Study again? At their age?
They still remembered being dragged to tutors as children—how torturous it had been!
“That’s unfair!”
“Yes, Your Highness! How can we be compared to scholars who read books all day?”
A chorus of protests erupted.
But Ellie had already made up her mind.
“We won’t use the academy’s books. We’ll use Nerendis’ own!”
“…Huh?”
“Pardon?”
“What exactly does a king need to know?”
This time Ellie turned toward Duke Nottman.
He was her chief advisor—he knew government best.
Her choice of person to ask was spot-on.
“Well, first, the law. Then international relations, history, etiquette, military strategy, agriculture, trade, economics, culture, and the arts.”
“Then first… let’s start with the law! Whoever memorizes the most laws wins!”
“……”
Even Lombaton’s eye twitched this time.
He hadn’t expected such a simple, almost absurd answer.
There were scholars who studied law, but even they couldn’t memorize the entire code word-for-word. Honestly, he wanted to question the usefulness of doing so at all.
“Very well,” said a voice.
It was Marundial.
Duke Wheaton’s head whipped around.
He knew Marundial’s sympathies leaned toward the princess, but hadn’t expected him to openly take her side.
“I’ll do it. There’s nothing wrong with the Minister of Justice memorizing laws by heart. It’s just memorization—it doesn’t depend on depth of scholarship.”
Since Marundial said it, the others had no grounds to object.
And everything he said was logically sound.
“Great!”
Ellie grinned in satisfaction.
But then came a barrage of new questions.
“Wait, Your Highness! Who will grade the test?”
“Grade it…?”
Ellie turned toward Lombaton.
He had been smiling at her with pride—but at that question, his face stiffened and he quickly looked away.
Even for a beloved genius, that’s a bit much.
Public is public, private is private.
He would not help.
Who knew how many people would participate, or how long it would take to grade them all?
“…It would be a good exercise for you, Your Highness,” he finally said.
Even simply reading and comparing the writing would help—some knowledge would naturally sink in. A kind of early study.
“Can I do it?”
“I believe you can.”
At her current level, yes.
Among the other tutors besides Lombaton—who taught math—many had praised her as having understanding far beyond her years.
Unthinkable for an ordinary seven-year-old, but for Ellie, a prodigy, it was perfectly possible.
And besides, this was all knowledge she’d eventually need anyway.
“…Okay, then I’ll do the grading!”
Ellie had found her answer.
But the questions didn’t stop there.
The adults asked endlessly—about everything from whether answer sheets would be provided to whether they should bring their own parchment.
So tiring!
Ellie began to feel exhausted from the flood of questions.
So this is the path of a king…
How had past monarchs endured such a life every day?
Of course, some kings had just idled away, or ruled by fear, forcing others to obey blindly.
Ellie had read about many such kings in books her brother had read to her, but she didn’t want to become one of them.
She wanted to be a good ruler—one who would protect the kingdom and save the world from ruin.
Just a little more!
If her brother Luden had heard her inner resolve, he would’ve praised her—something he rarely did.
Ellie ultimately succeeded in fending off the adults’ relentless questioning.
Watching her from the side, Lady Laval teared up.
“Our princess has grown up so much already…”
Marquis Simon praised her openly, eyes wide to keep tears from falling.
“Splendidly done, Your Highness!”
Cleas couldn’t approach but gazed at her with pure admiration.
The Berndt dukedom was vast, with countless vassals and responsibilities—but the throne carried a weight many times greater.
Ellie, younger than him by a year, had borne that weight.
I can’t fall behind!
Cleas silently vowed to become an even better duke.
As for Lombaton…
He smacked his lips.
“Tsk… this child is born for thesis defense.”
Even if she didn’t know everything, she countered opposing opinions perfectly, and when presented with a new idea, she didn’t stubbornly resist—it blended smoothly into her own reasoning.
How in the world can I bring her to the academy… how…?
The most dangerous adult was right beside her.
Unaware of that fact, Ellie cheerfully wrapped up the day’s council.
