The Northern Duke’s Daughter Will Never Fall

Chapter 30: This Little Vixen

“Did you get permission from Squad Leader Astrid?”

“Come on, isn’t it enough if Cadet Leopold gives me permission?”

It seemed she’d changed her strategy.

After being coldly rejected by Astrid, to the point where she couldn’t even get a proper response, Akemilla had decided to aim directly for Leopold instead.

Throughout the training period, she stuck to his side like glue, acting sweet and playful in an attempt to win his favor.

Astrid sat next to Leopold, watching Akemilla desperately trying to win him over, pestering him to dance with her for the opening dance at the ball.

She stared daggers at Akemilla as if she wanted to tear her apart, then sighed and turned her gaze away.

‘They’re really enjoying themselves, aren’t they? And me, jealous of that? What nonsense.’

Clicking her tongue, Astrid pursed her lips in frustration.

The fourth and final week of the four-week training period had begun.

In this final week, the cadets underwent comprehensive training. Squads were paired up and sent to a separate training ground for a five-day camping exercise.

It was the second day of camping, and evening had arrived.

After finishing their combat training for the day, it was time to prepare dinner. As the sun began to set, most of the squad members had gone to gather food, leaving only Leopold, Astrid, and Akemilla at the campsite, tending to the fire pit.

Astein had also disappeared, saying, “Good luck, squad leader,” while winking at Astrid with a grin before heading off to collect firewood with the other squad members. As a result, starting the fire was left to the three of them.

‘Is this really how you’re supposed to start a fire?’

Astrid sat in front of the fire pit, spinning a stick against a notched wooden board. For over ten minutes, she diligently rubbed the stick, but aside from a bit of smoke, no flames appeared.

“Squad Leader, let me take over.”

It wasn’t that Astrid was tired—this task was more boring than exhausting—but after seeing her sigh repeatedly while working, Leopold stood up as if he’d decided it was time to step in.

“Come on, Cadet Leopold, if Squad Leader Astrid wants to lead by example, shouldn’t you let her?”

Hearing that, Astrid felt a sharp surge of irritation. And there was no reason for her to hold it in.

Moreover, she wasn’t the type to sit quietly and endure it.

“Oh, really? I’m not the only squad leader here, so why don’t you lead by example too?”

With a loud thud, the stick and board Astrid had been using for the fire pit were flung to the ground, landing near Akemilla’s feet.

“Eek!” Akemilla yelped, flinching as she looked up to meet Astrid’s eyes.

What she saw was a gaze as cold and sharp as a blade—a glare that could kill.

Akemilla, the pampered daughter of a merchant lord, had never experienced a life of battle or bloodshed.

The weight of that gaze bore down on her, and she instinctively lowered her eyes, unable to face it.

“I’ve already led by example as a squad leader. Now it’s your turn, Squad Leader Akemilla. How about showing us your example?”

Without a second glance, Astrid turned away.

For a moment, she considered saying something sharp to Leopold as well, but honestly, there was nothing to say.

Since earlier, Leopold had been chopping firewood into smaller pieces to fit them into the campfire.

Using a dagger he’d borrowed from Eranya, he was clearing off small twigs and shaving down any damp portions.

In short, the only one doing nothing was Akemilla.

That’s why Astrid didn’t say anything to Leopold. She simply shot him a glare sharp enough to kill, then walked away.

—Oh, dear, that’s called jealousy.

Sister Veracien’s words echoed in her head.

Jealousy. Was this jealousy?

She didn’t understand it, so she couldn’t accept it. After all, jealousy usually comes from having some sort of affection for the other person. But she didn’t have any such feelings for Leopold, did she?

But still—when Astein had been whispering with Astrid earlier, Leopold had also felt a flicker of something unpleasant. If he had to be honest, it wasn’t just “not pleasant”—it was outright annoying.

So perhaps that’s why, even though Akemilla had been pestering him to share the first dance, he hadn’t outright rejected her.

Instead, he kept giving vague, indirect responses, as if he wanted someone to see it.

“Ah, my arm hurts…”

Barely five minutes had passed since Akemilla started rubbing the fire stick, and she hadn’t even produced smoke. Yet she was already complaining about how much her arm hurt.

‘Astrid spent over ten minutes doing it without a single complaint.’

Without even realizing it, Leopold compared Akemilla to Astrid. Realizing this, he quickly shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought.

“Ugh, what have you all been doing? Not even a spark?”

The voice was rough and gruff.

It was Deot, a heavy cavalry knight from Akemilla’s squad.

He walked over, dropped several rabbits he’d been carrying onto the ground near the fire pit, and then approached Akemilla.

“Here, let me handle it, Squad Leader.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

As if she’d been waiting for those words, Akemilla immediately handed him the fire-starting board.

Watching this, Astein clicked his tongue and stepped forward.

“At this rate, when are you guys going to light it? I’ll do it.”

Akemilla’s squad had two heavy cavalry knights but no mage, while Astrid’s squad had only one heavy cavalry knight (Astrid) but included a mage.

“Squad Leader, hand me a few of those logs,” Astein said.

Astrid, who’d been sitting quietly, grabbed several pieces of firewood from the side. Without thinking, she hoisted them up like she was about to throw them.

“Whoa, whoa, Squad Leader! Don’t throw them—I can’t catch them like that!”

At Astein’s exaggerated plea, Astrid chuckled, got up, and walked over to hand him the wood directly.

Watching that scene, Leopold’s face twisted slightly.

“What’s the big deal, Astein? Can’t you even catch a few pieces of wood? If you’re going to be a combat mage, you should train your reflexes, don’t you think?”

“W-Well, you see…”

“Astein’s a mage, so it’s fine,” Astrid said firmly. “Dodging and blocking incoming projectiles is something front-liners like us have to worry about. If Astein’s ever in a situation where he has to do that, it’s our failure as vanguards.”

With those words, Astrid practically shielded Astein.

A flash of irritation rose within Leopold. He instinctively wanted to say something, but he bit his lip and kept it in.

Four tents had been set up.

One tent for Astrid, Eranya, and Veracien. One for Leopold and Astein. Another for Akemilla and Veracresa. And the last one for Deot and the three other male squad members.

When night fell and it was time for bed, each squad assigned one member to stand watch during the night.

The first shift was the most desirable, as it allowed the person to get a full night’s sleep afterward. Meanwhile, the last shift was the most dreaded, as it interrupted sleep at its deepest point.

“…I’ll take the last shift.”

Having the best stamina among them, Astrid volunteered to take the final shift. It was better to do it herself than to leave it to someone else.

On the other hand, Akemilla had been forced into the last shift after losing a fierce round of rock-paper-scissors.

Their expressions couldn’t have been more different. Astrid’s face remained calm and indifferent, while Akemilla’s face was twisted with frustration.

Honestly, Astrid would have preferred to do the entire night watch alone. But that wasn’t an option, and the thought of having to spend the night with Akemilla already had her on edge.

“Lady Miterien, how long did you live in the North?”

As expected.

After crawling out of her tent far later than Astrid, Akemilla had spent a while half-asleep before finally shaking off her drowsiness.

And this was the first thing she said.

“…Since birth.”

“Wow, it must’ve been so cold.”

“Of course it was.”

If it were the real Astrid, that’s probably what she’d say. The current Astrid had no idea how long the real Astrid had lived in the North.

There was nothing about it in the diary either. So she figured it was safe to assume that Astrid had lived there from birth.

“Lady Miterien, do you really have any intention of marrying Cadet Leopold?”

Her words came out of nowhere.

Despite the two of them being engaged, Akemilla had never sensed any romantic tension between them. Even when they were close, there was no spark, no warmth of affection.

Growing up surrounded by the glittering world of wealth and power, Akemilla had become adept at reading people.

And from what she could see, there was nothing between Astrid and Leopold that resembled love. Their supposed engagement seemed like a farce.

Was it even real?

If it wasn’t—

A sudden inspiration hit Akemilla.

It was the opportunity of a lifetime.

The position of crown princess.

A position with enough power to restore and expand the influence of the Uraid Trading Company, which had ironically been reduced when the empire was established.

It was a position that could break free from the limits of being a mere commoner and establish her as a force to be reckoned with.

The crown princess.

And later, the empress.

If she could achieve that, she could elevate the Uraid Trading Company into a dominant power spanning the entire continent.

That was why she’d started her campaign to win Leopold’s heart.

But Astrid kept interfering. Even though Astrid herself claimed not to care, she still butted in at every turn. If she truly didn’t care, she should’ve let Akemilla have her way, yet she interfered with everything.

“…I don’t.”

The flames of the campfire flickered, their glow reflecting off Astrid’s pale face.

Her unique mint-colored eyes gazed blankly into the fire. The flames danced in her eyes, their light flickering in her pupils like rippling waves.

“Then—”

“Even if I don’t want him.”

Astrid’s words cut Akemilla off.

Her words hung in the air, unfinished. Curious about how she’d continue, Akemilla remained silent, waiting for the rest.

“Even if I don’t want him, I won’t mind giving him up if it’s my decision. But I refuse to have him stolen from me.”

“…What did you just say?”

Akemilla’s disbelief was clear. She turned to face Astrid, but Astrid was already looking at her.

Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze was sharp as she stared directly at Akemilla.

“If I said it was fine for you to aim for the position of crown princess, that was me giving you permission to try. It didn’t mean I’d surrender it. Understand?”

“What do you even—”

“Take it if you can,” Astrid said firmly, her voice like cold steel. “But I’ll do everything I can to make sure you don’t.”

Her words shocked even herself.

‘What am I even saying? If anything, I should be helping her push Leopold away from me…’

But that was only true if the other person was decent.

Akemiila wasn’t.

It was obvious that she wasn’t interested in Leopold himself. She had an agenda, and her ambition was clear as day.

‘Yeah, I’m justified.’

Astrid convinced herself, reasoning that she was in the right.

While Astrid was rationalizing her own actions, Akemilla bit her lip and glared at her.

‘This white-haired b****…’

Her lip throbbed with pain, and in the depths of her chest, a seed of hatred for Astrid had taken root. And at that moment, it began to sprout.