The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 1173: Buddy System

Well, at least that had been their opinion.

Like up until about three minutes ago, when they came to the deeply frustrating realization that they were apparently talking to an idiot.

What kind of impenetrable wall was this?

How could someone be so stubborn that he couldn’t even be persuaded to look them in the eye?

The twins exchanged the briefest of glances.

That alone was enough.

In perfect unison, their expressions melted into something far softer. Their lashes fluttered delicately, faint smiles touched their lips, and when they spoke again, even their voices had taken on a quiet warmth, tinged with just enough vulnerability to tug at anyone’s heart. They leaned forward ever so slightly, silently inviting Owen to raise his eyes and meet theirs.

"Oh, my... we truly hope we aren’t making you uncomfortable, Young Lord Owen," Cyrion said softly as he took a careful step closer.

"I’m fine," Owen replied.

He continued staring with complete concentration at what had suddenly become a very interesting section of the restroom ceiling.

"We somehow don’t believe that’s the case," Lyrian sighed, tilting his head with a perfectly practiced expression of melancholy. "After all... you won’t even look at us."

Normally that was all it would have taken. Actually, in most cases, just breathing and existing would’ve been enough to draw attention to their faces. Unfortunately...

That strategy didn’t work for this kid either.

Owen Mylor was simply too tall.

Their subtle changes in posture only resulted in him lifting his chin even higher, all while remaining firmly rooted in his own perfectly sound logic.

"Your Highnesses, as per etiquette," he explained earnestly, "I really shouldn’t stare directly at members of any royal family. Actually... I should probably get going now. You likely came here because you wanted some privacy."

The twins felt the corners of their smiles twitch.

Just what was wrong with the people of the Empire?

Still, years of training prevailed, so their pleasant expressions never truly slipped.

Instead, they quietly moved together, subtly positioning themselves to keep Owen boxed in while the unfortunate influencer desperately searched for an opening, twisting and sidestepping with surprising agility for someone his size.

To his credit, he managed to evade them for quite a while, channeling the evasion techniques of a determined slinky snake.

Eventually, however, Cyrion, the more hot-headed twin, lost patience.

If subtlety wasn’t enough and he kept on clinging to the rules of etiquette, then he’d simply have to force the matter.

He let out a soft gasp.

His footing suddenly "slipped."

The Aerun prince dramatically pitched himself forward, intending to fall straight into Owen’s arms and finally force the elusive eye contact he’d been chasing all this time.

A classic move.

Straight out of a terribly written romance.

Only—

Instead of colliding with Owen’s chest, Cyrion abruptly stopped halfway through the fall, suspended awkwardly in midair as though he’d crashed into an invisible wall.

It took them a moment to make sense of what had just happened.

He’d actually hit a solid spiritual barrier.

The twins froze.

"?!"

Only after several bewildered blinks did they finally register the two figures now standing by the restroom entrance.

Killian Nox.

And directly behind him...

A considerably taller redhead.

__

Now, this absurd sight really wasn’t helping the already stressful day of one Chief of Staff.

Then again, perhaps this was simply karma for never fully appreciating why parental leave was such an important benefit.

Don’t get him wrong.

He’d always understood the reasoning behind it. He knew the statistics, the reports, and the countless studies explaining why parents needed the time despite the Empire’s admittedly fragile and often uneasy peace.

Actually experiencing it, however, was something else entirely.

Now that he and Jax had no choice but to leave the little Queen Bee in the considerably more qualified hands of the head maid and the butlers while they both attended today’s event, Killian felt as if he were slowly losing his mind.

Every unnecessary interruption made him increasingly irritated because all he wanted was to finish his responsibilities and return as quickly as possible.

The worst part was that he actually had it easier than most parents.

He could still check on her whenever he wanted.

If even that wasn’t enough to keep him from worrying, then how exactly did ordinary parents survive without being able to see what their children were doing all the time?

Considering what Kyle and, admittedly, even he had been like growing up, it was hardly surprising that his father’s hairline seemed to retreat a little farther every year as his sons became increasingly bold with their life choices.

And no wonder they were all going mental over that admittedly prolonged radio silence. If the little Queen Bee ever decided to pull something like that for months on end, he was fairly certain he’d age by decades at a time.

But with regards to stress management...

Well.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Killian was currently being held together by the emotional support tank calmly walking beside him.

For reasons he still couldn’t quite comprehend, Jax had chosen to follow him around rather than stay with his friends. To be fair, Killian had gone out of his way to explain that the day would consist almost entirely of tedious inspections, routine rounds, and paperwork, encouraging the redhead to relax with the other cadets instead.

Jax had simply grinned at his efforts to dissuade him.

"Then I’ll come with you, if that’s okay."

The others immediately declared it an excellent buddy system, and before Killian fully realized what had happened, he found himself making his usual rounds with the redhead quietly trailing behind him.

Surprisingly, it hadn’t been disastrous.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

Jax possessed a frightening knack for putting people at ease without making the slightest effort. Before long, conversations naturally drifted in his direction, leaving Killian, who genuinely despised small talk, blissfully free from having to carry the exchange. Instead, the Chief of Staff could devote his attention to quietly noting the useful bits of information people carelessly let slip. Somehow, the redhead kept every conversation flowing through little more than attentive listening, the occasional nod, and a smile at exactly the right moments.

Though it probably helped that quite a few people nearly stumbled over themselves after realizing he was accompanied by an actual member of DG. At that point, Jax could’ve made casual conversation about the controlled weather, and there was still a decent chance it’d become tomorrow’s headline.

More importantly, whenever the little Queen Bee reached out through their connection, Jax could somehow answer almost instinctively. Even with someone right in front of him, he could handle both easily.

Killian, on the other hand, couldn’t.

Not while working.

Every time he found himself unable to respond immediately, guilt stabbed at him with surprising force. But because Jax was right there, the worried little peeps he expected never came. Instead, all he ever heard were tiny giggles and cheerful squeaks.

For reasons he really didn’t want to think about too deeply, hearing those happy sounds settled him more than he cared to admit.

The only downside was that it also made him aware of several things he absolutely should not have been thinking about in the middle of work.

Still, he thought he’d managed to keep his priorities straight.

At least until now.

Putting up a spiritual barrier between Owen and the Luxastra twins had been the obvious thing to do. Whatever ridiculous stunt those two had been about to pull clearly wasn’t going to happen on his watch.

That part went exactly as intended.

What didn’t...

Was why he suddenly found himself leaning backward.

His balance gave way without warning, only for a solid warmth to catch him from behind just as a hand reached up toward his face.

Jax’s chest.

Killian frowned.

Wait.

He looked, or at least to, over his shoulder.

Did this guy seriously just buckle his knees out of nowhere?

Worse, now he couldn’t even see?!

"???"