I'm the third son of a viscount's family, but I have a claim to the throne. - Episode 8

I reached out to my brothers, asking to discuss something important, and arranged to meet them in a small lounge after dinner.

The academy dormitories included variously sized lounges, designed for group study or private discussions. As my second brother, Carpeus, had mentioned, it wasn’t difficult to secure one of the smaller, older rooms, so that’s where we gathered.

“How was your first day, Delicbard?”

Akius, my eldest brother, brought some baked treats leftover from dinner and asked.

…It seemed like too much for one person. How did he manage to get extra portions? I’d have to ask him about it later.

“I think I’ve already drawn the ire of the Kesbart Duke’s second son, who’s in my year. Do you think it would cause problems if I outperformed the high-ranking nobles in our grade to claim the top spot?

I was considering taking the skip exams for most subjects and only attending ‘Combat Basics’ to avoid unnecessary attention. What do you think?”

Since my chances of inheriting a noble title were slim, I didn’t see much point in cultivating connections. At the same time, it seemed unwise to attract hostility by outperforming a duke’s heir.

My brothers exchanged glances, frowning slightly.

“The Kesbart Ducal House recently came under fire from the king. One of their vassals was implicated in the Third Prince’s assassination attempt, and the duke was reprimanded, losing several privileges.

You’d think they’d want to avoid further trouble, but maybe targeting you is their way of asserting they’re still influential,” Akius said with a sigh.

“But doesn’t the assassination of the Third Prince mean that if anything happens to the remaining two princes, one of you might inherit the throne? Would their family really allow their son to act so recklessly?”

While Zarbalta himself was just a child, raised with an inflated sense of entitlement as part of the Queen’s powerful family, his parents surely kept an eye on his behavior through their retainers.

“You’d expect that, but a family willing to support the Queen’s whims and assassinate a concubine-born prince—who wasn’t even a real threat—might be more arrogant and foolish than we anticipated.

Taking the skip exams for most classes and quietly observing Zarbalta and other high-ranking nobles during ‘Combat Basics’ might be the safest course of action,” Akius suggested.

“And what about you two?” I asked.

Akius shrugged. “The Second Prince is more of a musclehead. He prefers practical combat to book learning, so he doesn’t mind if I beat him in academics.

If he loses in combat, he just takes it as motivation to train harder. Since he openly accepts me as a rival, other nobles don’t dare complain that a viscount’s son is outperforming him.

I’ve been able to pursue my studies without any trouble.”

Lucky. A prince with a shonen-manga protagonist personality wouldn’t stir up internal disputes, which was reassuring.

“And you, Carpeus?”

“Fortunately, there aren’t many high-ranking nobles in my year. The few earls’ sons present don’t seem inclined to challenge someone with a claim to the throne, so I’ve had an easy time too,” Carpeus admitted, sounding a bit apologetic.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“When the news broke that the Queen was pregnant, ambitious noble families scrambled to produce children who could serve as future attendants or even marry into the royal family.

Those who couldn’t conceive quickly adopted promising children from branch families.

This baby boom mostly resulted in births during Akius’s year or the year following. My year, however, was caught in an awkward gap. Many families avoided having children during that time, fearing they’d be overlooked or forced into unwanted royal obligations.

Some, like the Ferrigan Marquisate, sent their children abroad to avoid royal scrutiny. Their daughter is currently studying in a neighboring kingdom, likely to secure a marriage alliance.”

I nodded, understanding the pattern. Noble families eager to align themselves with the royal family aimed to have children in specific years, while others deliberately avoided attention.

“Doesn’t this pressure make it difficult for high-ranking nobles to plan their families?” I asked.

Women only have a limited period in which they can safely bear children. Waiting for the Queen’s pregnancy to align with their plans could mean missing their chance entirely.

“Up until Father’s generation, the royal succession had been stable for nearly a century, so most nobles didn’t think too much about timing.

But when Father’s classmates and contemporaries got caught up in the last succession dispute, it made everyone more cautious,” Akius explained.

That made sense. Close ties formed during academy days could easily influence political alliances later on. Father’s capabilities and the four-year age gap between him and the current king’s younger sibling likely shifted academy loyalties in his favor.

“Wait a minute. Shouldn’t the Third Prince have been in my grade? Isn’t it strange that there’s only one duke’s son among the high-ranking nobles in my year?”

After all, Jairus’s assassination couldn’t have been anticipated. If he’d been alive, wouldn’t the situation have mirrored the Second Prince’s grade, with many high-ranking nobles present?

“Families likely avoided the Third Prince’s year to steer clear of obligations as his attendants or potential marriage candidates.

The Kesbart Ducal House and its branches were probably the only ones willing to position themselves as rivals,” Carpeus explained.

“And since they’ve been taught that the Kesbart family is more important than a concubine-born prince, they likely view you as even less significant,” Akius added.

Ugh. So, the Kesbart family had essentially trained Zarbalta to consider me beneath him, viewing me as a threat only because of their rivalry with the Third Prince.

“This sounds like such a headache,” I muttered.

It might be best to stick to ‘Combat Basics’ and avoid trying to build connections in other classes.

Being a noble required far more careful maneuvering than I had anticipated.