I Start with a Bad Hand!

Icarus, trapped in an inescapable labyrinth with his father, escapes using wings crafted from his father’s ingenuity. However, intoxicated by the thrill of reaching the sun, he flies too close to it.

Eventually, the wax that held his feathers melted from the heat of the sun, causing him to fall into the sea.

Thus, beware of greed and arrogance. Do not covet what is unattainable, for it will inevitably plunge you from the highest heights into the abyss.”

It was the same story I knew, right here as well. This realization troubled me doubly.

‘This really isn’t the ‘real’ world, is it? If they’ve just copied the stories from my world.’

While in my world this was a myth, here it was treated as a real historical event. With mixed feelings, I absentmindedly rubbed the back of my neck. There was another reason for my unease.

‘To name a child Icarus despite such a backstory.’

What were the parents thinking? I tapped my pen on my notebook, puzzled by the royal family’s approach to naming. It’s just a few lines of a legend, yet I found it strangely hard to turn the page.

What were they thinking when they gave him that name? As I stared at the page, chin propped on my hand, a sleepy voice suddenly came from behind me.

“If you were curious about the name, why didn’t you just ask me?”

Before I knew it, he had gotten up and was approaching me.

“The Icarus legend. I didn’t expect you to read it with such focus. I thought everyone in the empire knew this story.”

Like someone caught doing something wrong, I found myself defensively responding.

“…It just seems too unbelievable to be in a history book.”

“It’s not fiction. It’s known as a legend, but it’s taken from ancient records.”

…That’s even worse. Neither of us spoke until I managed to turn the page.

‘Why would they name him that, really?’

Embarrassed, I kept my eyes on my notebook. He was lying down again, staring intently at me.

I scribbled a few words on my notebook, but his gaze was persistent, making it impossible to concentrate. He was too awake for me to cover him with the jacket again. There was something undeniable that kept nagging at me.

Finally, after a moment of hesitation, I spoke up with the question I had been pondering.

“Your Highness, have you ever been on an expedition to the high mountains?”

“High mountains?”

Icarus seemed surprised by my unexpected question as he glanced away from my moving hands, busy with my assignment, and responded,

“I’ve been there. Why do you ask?”

This made it easier to speak my mind. Without looking directly at him, and still focusing on my notes, I continued,

“About that legend earlier. The Icarus legend. Your Highness, you said it wasn’t fiction… but I don’t believe that story is credible.”

Even without turning my head, I could feel his intense gaze on me.

“In the legend, it says that Icarus’s wings melted from the heat of the sun because he flew too close, but at higher altitudes, the temperature actually drops.”

You would know since you’ve been to high mountains. I continued to write my last assignment as I spoke,

“So, that part of the story is incorrect. The wax melting due to solar heat and causing a fall is impossible.”

It’s funny to argue against a myth, but here it’s treated as historical fact… there’s room to dispute its accuracy.

“In the legend, Icarus was trapped in a prison, and from the perspective of those recording it, especially those wanting to impart a moral, they wouldn’t want to leave a record of him successfully escaping the labyrinth…”

He was still silent. Though there was no response, I had to finish what I had started.

“I think that incorrect explanation might just be conjecture by those who’ve never flown themselves, assuming ‘that must be what happened.'”

Ah, what am I doing? This isn’t the time for me to be consoling anyone, let alone a prince of the empire. Suddenly realizing I was overstepping, I hurriedly wrapped up,

“So… what I mean is, don’t pay attention to what those who don’t know are saying. What meaning is there in the noise made by those left behind, to someone who has crossed the sea?”

After finishing, I felt a rush of belated embarrassment. It felt like shriveling up from the extremities inward. Comforting was definitely not my forte. I buried my face in my book. Seeing my obvious embarrassment, he then playfully asked,

“Why bring up that story all of a sudden?”

“Just… I’ve always thought that story didn’t make sense.”

I mentioned it just to share the knowledge. A brief silence lingered. Suddenly, the strong urge to return to my dormitory emerged, as if I hadn’t heard the mean gossip in front of me or experienced the nosebleed.

As I got up to leave, he sluggishly rose from where he had been lying down.

“Leaving?”

I nodded casually, gathered my things, and was just about to turn the doorknob to leave the rehearsal room when…

As soon as I opened the door, the first thing I saw was his blonde hair. It seemed that the man, Logan, was also about to open the door. Standing there awkwardly, he was…

“Logan?”

Logan, still with a face pale as dough and ruffling his disheveled blonde hair, was grinning foolishly, blocking my way. Dietrich’s first love… or something of that sort. A presence so detested by Dietrich’s body that it nearly made me gag involuntarily.

“Uh… hello?”

How did he know to come here? I held onto the doorknob tightly, preventing Logan from entering. Glancing back slightly, Icarus was watching me hold the doorknob, seeming puzzled.

“…Yeah. But what’s up?”

Fortunately, I wasn’t trembling like last time. As I asked back, unable to hide my distaste, Logan just cleared his throat awkwardly beside me.

“I heard about it. You turned down a confession from the younger son of the Hillrat Count.”

Ah, right, he was in the fencing club too. I tried to control my twisting lips as I responded.

“……”

When I didn’t reply, just giving a vague smile, Logan asked in a subtle voice,

“I also heard… that you rejected that confession.”

A nasty premonition started creeping up on me, and I gripped the doorknob even tighter.

‘This bastard, surely not…’

“Could it be… that I’m the reason?”

That Dietrich still hasn’t truly forgotten him and rejected it because of that… My lips began to tremble involuntarily.

‘This is crazy…’

“I know I mean something special to you. That’s why… as soon as I heard you rejected Hillrat’s confession, I was worried. Worried that you… still haven’t forgotten me.”

It seemed like the academy was not cultivating talents but disasters—human disasters that infuriate in various ways were flourishing here.

‘The nation is doomed. Doomed…’

As I lamented the empire’s future like a banished scholar, Logan continued speaking with a barely concealed smugness. Misinterpreting my speechlessness, he seemed to take it differently.

“But I always hoped you’d find someone better than me, Dietrich.”

‘This is insane…’

Was this guy hired as an assassin? A hypertension killer or something?

“That’s right, it’s about time.”

That’s when Icarus, who had taken my bag slung over my shoulder, slightly lifted his chin and looked down at Logan.

“It’s a pity to settle for just a mere baronet, considering you’re acknowledged as a prodigy by the academy.”

…

“Maybe she could even rise higher herself.” Icarus said, looking straight at him. Recognizing the prince, Logan hastily bowed, and between his twisted lips, he almost moaned,

“Prince… how do you know her…”

Icarus responded with a mocking smile, but kindly answered,

“…If someone is as outstanding as this, it’s inevitable that they’ll be connected to the royal family. She was second in her class upon admission, and she topped the recent exam, didn’t she?”

At this, Logan clammed up.

‘I really don’t want any connections with the royal family, I…’

But it was amusing to see Logan’s face twist as if space-time were warping. After fumbling with his mouth a few times, Logan awkwardly greeted the prince again and staggered off.

“…Who is that to speak to you so rudely?”

“There’s more than one person who speaks to me rudely… He’s just one of many.”

“From what I heard, it seems like there was some history even before the academy.”

“…….”

What should I say? I needed to respond in a way that wouldn’t tarnish Dietrich’s dignity. Because saying that such a person was a first love would be an insult that slightly wounds a person’s soul…

“…Thank you for the compliment. For calling me a talent of the academy.”

So, I changed the subject. It seemed like he noticed my obvious topic shift but chose to let it slide.

“It’s nothing. I’m just stating the facts. But really, those words don’t fully capture you.”

He said as he picked up my luggage. Did he think I was carrying rocks in my bag? He didn’t forget to tease me about that.

“An excellent academy talent, a skilled archer, and… the worst playwright.”

“I can’t agree with the last part.”

He burst into laughter at that. It was a refreshingly genuine laugh, one that made me laugh along.

A lame, poor, obscure baron’s family, ignorant of their station.

Of all the descriptors thrown at Dietrich today, none were chosen by Dietrich herself. The things beyond her control were what described her. But not everyone saw Dietrich only through the lens of those narratives.

If there were people who appreciated Dietrich for her achievements, who could remove the labels and see her through their own eyes, if such people were by her side…

My steps became lighter. Not just because he was carrying my luggage.