Chapter 44: First Encounter with Alyssa

“Cough, cough—”

Isabella let out two tactical coughs.

Then, embodying the fearless spirit of “If I can’t see embarrassment, it can’t catch me,” she swiftly set the door upright, gingerly… leaning it against the door frame.

She then blew an innocent whistle, as if the door was just a bit tired and wanted to rest for a while.

All done.

She nodded to herself, then turned around to face the scattered scraps of paper, dust, and books strewn all over the floor, her brow furrowing tightly.

No, absolutely not. How could Princess be expected to step foot in such a pigsty?

Ignoring the three stunned girls in the room, she transformed into a whirlwind of pink, moving like a humanoid cleaning robot in berserk mode!

Isabella’s figure left countless afterimages as she moved around the room.

Wherever she passed, everything became spotless.

The books were sorted at a dazzling speed, neatly arranged on the desk from tallest to shortest.

The dust, too, vanished as if someone had wiped a foggy filter away, leaving the room instantly bright and airy, making everyone feel refreshed.

Mia’s pupils shook. “She… she can use Housekeeping Magic?! And with High-speed Chanting?!”

Lisbeth’s eyes darted quickly, barely able to keep up with Isabella’s speed.

“Physical High-speed Movement. Very efficient. I wonder if she roasts chicken wings that fast, too.”

“Royal Special-service Nanny-type Knight. You’ll get used to it. I bet her next step is to check for eavesdropping moss.”

Seraphina Valerius could only regret she didn’t have a cup of black tea in hand to savor this moment.

Sure enough, after cleaning the room to a state even newer than when it was first built, Isabella began to act like an obsessive Dean of Security, lying on the floor to check under the beds, then knocking and tapping around the window frames to make sure there were no Magic traps.

Lisbeth watched this scene and couldn’t help but tug awkwardly at the corner of her mouth.

This sister’s professionalism reminded her of her mother Tulia’s focused expression when checking if roast chicken was thoroughly cooked.

Mia, while shocked, also began to feel a hint of suspicion.

No matter how she looked at this pink-haired woman, she didn’t seem like an Academy student. Even if she was part of a joint training program, she wouldn’t be staying in a mixed dormitory.

And the finely tailored outfit she wore looked exactly like the rumored Imperial Knight Uniform, said to be exclusive to direct royal service.

The only one present who showed no surprise was perhaps Seraphina.

Wearing her standard businesslike smile, she had already learned the general identity of her roommates through her family’s information channels.

One of them was quite mysterious—she had guessed she might be a royal.

Seeing the pink-haired Knight before her, she could now be certain: this new roommate was none other than the Emperor’s third daughter, not some collateral relative. That did surprise her a little.

Once she had confirmed the environment was “absolutely safe,” Isabella finally stood upright, executed a flawless noble’s salute, and pulled a sheet of draft paper from her breast pocket, handling it as if it were a rare treasure.

She pinched her throat, adopting a shrill, affected tone, and began to solemnly recite:

“Silence! For the health and absolute safety of all dormitory members, I, the great Isabella Knight, spent three hours last night, referencing the Royal Dormitory Security Regulations, to painstakingly write these Dormitory Iron Laws by hand! All of you must listen closely, and carve them into your hearts!”

“…Chuunibyou?”

“A serious case.”

“No, dear, this is called ‘personality’.”

The three exchanged glances again.

“Rule One: Every morning and evening… Rule Two: All food… Rule Three: Curfew after nine p.m….”

“Rule Four…”

Isabella’s recitation grew ever more passionate, as if reading the Empire’s legal code.

With each rule, Lisbeth’s eyebrows rose a notch, her expression shifting from initial skepticism to pure “Are you kidding me?” absurdity.

“She’s nuts! She’s absolutely nuts! Let’s get out of here!”

“The door’s broken. We can’t.”

“Don’t rush, let her finish. I bet the next rule is about bathroom times.”

“Wait a second!”

Finally, when Isabella reached “Rule Seven: To ensure a clean environment, no fluffy or unidentified slimy Magic pets are allowed in the dormitory,” Mia couldn’t take it anymore. She slapped the table and broke off the farce.

“Who are you, really?!” Mia put her hands on her hips, bristling like an angry little hen, her tone fierce. “Are you on the Student Discipline Committee? Or the Dorm Supervisor? What gives you the right to lay down all these rules? We’re here to study, not to be locked up!”

Faced with this sudden questioning, Isabella’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she still forced herself to stand tall and keep her composure. “You have no need to know my identity. All you need to understand is that everything I do is for everyone’s safety!”

“This is our room too.”

Lisbeth, who had been silent, suddenly spoke. Her voice was soft but instantly made the room’s atmosphere more explosive.

Seeing a freshmen civil war about to break out, Seraphina finally stepped out unhurriedly.

“Miss Isabella, is it?” She spoke gently, calling the other by name with pinpoint accuracy.

Isabella’s pupils contracted slightly.

“Your sense of duty is truly admirable.” Seraphina’s tone was as warm as ever, as if she were genuinely praising her. “It’s clear you care a lot about that ‘noble member.’ But…”

She tilted her head, her face showing just the right amount of confusion. “…I’m just curious: if a professor assigns a Magic Experiment due the next morning, how should we follow the nine p.m. curfew? And, for Potion Class, the live ‘Slug’ we need—would that count as a slimy pet?”

Her words were gentle, but every point exposed the unreasonable flaws in Isabella’s “perfect regulations.”

“Th-this…” Isabella was at a loss for words. These practical issues weren’t covered at all in her copy of the Royal Security Regulations.

As she racked her brains for an answer, a crisp and slightly weary girl’s voice came from outside the battered door.

“Isabella…”

Everyone turned toward the voice, and saw a girl with waist-length golden hair in a plain dress quietly standing at the doorway. Her features were delicate as a doll, her emerald eyes crystal clear, but with a touch of sorrow that seemed too deep for her age.

It was the Third Imperial Princess, Alyssa Cantus.

She surveyed the tense scene before her, and her Attendant Knight—who looked ready to turn the entire dorm into a military fortress—and sighed helplessly.

“…What are you doing again?”

Then, bypassing the frozen Isabella, she bowed deeply to the three bewildered girls inside.

“I’m truly sorry to trouble you.” Her voice was gentle and sincere. “My name is Alyssa. Please… please ignore what she said. Just treat that paper as scrap.”

Isabella felt herself turn to stone in an instant.

All her dignity, all her careful preparation, were reduced to nothing by Princess’s casual words.

Mia and Lisbeth looked at each other, momentarily short-circuited by the sight of a Princess so kind and utterly unpretentious.

Seraphina, on the other hand, smiled knowingly and returned Alyssa’s greeting with a flawless noblewoman’s courtesy.

It seemed that Academy life ahead would be even more interesting than she had imagined.