The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 1175: A Joke

Jax blinked, then immediately seized the opportunity.

"Oh!" he said, glancing toward the doorway. "Look at the time. Owen, we’d better get going. Ollie’s probably already wondering where we are."

"Ah! Right!"

Owen, the huge and unexpected fly on the wall—who suddenly remembered that he wasn’t watching from behind some screen and was actually physically present—nodded almost frantically.

If there’d ever been a perfect excuse to escape this suffocating atmosphere, then this was undoubtedly it.

Unfortunately, the twins had no intention of letting them leave so easily.

Lyrian stepped forward, the pleasant smile on his face thinning just enough to betray a crack beneath it.

"Lord Killian," he said smoothly, "surely you aren’t planning to simply leave after... such an exhibition?"

Still holding Jax’s hand over his face, said cursed person with that godforsaken name finally found his voice.

He drew a slow breath before speaking in the calm, measured cadence expected of the Empire’s Chief of Staff.

"Your Highnesses," he replied evenly, his voice slightly muffled beneath the hand covering his eyes, "I wish to apologize for any unintended discourtesy. However, considering the demands upon your schedule, may I ask whether you’re quite certain this is how you’d like to spend the opening of today’s examination?"

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

He never mentioned Oliver Mylor, nor the advantages they stood to lose with every passing second they remained there.

Nor did he mention the lengths the Aeruns, together with the other factions, had gone to in order to orchestrate this very moment in the hope of extracting information.

He merely asked a question.

The implication, however, was impossible to miss.

Was standing inside a restroom demanding explanations truly worth missing even a single moment of the very reason they’d scrambled so hard to attend?

The question struck exactly where it should.

House Luxastra hadn’t gone through countless negotiations and favors just to secure those coveted tickets for nothing.

Sure, the princes wanted to make connections with Killian, but there was an even bigger task at hand. And missing the beginning would undermine the entire purpose of coming.

Cyrion’s jaw tightened.

His expression briefly twisted into something dangerously close to anger before he forcibly reshaped it into wounded indignation. Even so, the glare he directed at the pair who had courteously given way, as though their departure were already a foregone conclusion, was utterly devoid of its usual practiced gentleness.

Lyrian lingered only a heartbeat longer.

His eyes settled quietly on Jax, thoughtful and unreadable, before he turned and followed his brother out of the restroom without another word.

Only after the twins disappeared did Owen finally remember to breathe.

He looked between Killian and Jax, his face a bewildering mixture of concern, confusion, and enough curiosity to fill an encyclopedia. Whatever had just happened between those two, he desperately wanted an explanation.

Unfortunately for his curiosity, he’d also just been handed the perfect opportunity to escape. It was one thing to witness everything as an almost invisible bystander, but quite another to remain the only other person standing in that restroom.

So, deciding that discretion was the better part of not accidentally getting caught in... whatever that had been, he did the only sensible thing he could think of.

"See you guys out there!"

The words came out in one hurried breath before he slipped through the doorway and all but sprinted toward the arena, determined to cheer on his older brother while he still had the chance.

Maybe afterward, if the opportunity presented itself, he’d ask his older brother and the others about what in the world he’d just witnessed.

One thing was certain, though.

He absolutely wasn’t telling anyone with weaker souls.

Because he could’ve sworn that, for one terrifying moment, one of the chillest people he’d ever met had looked genuinely murderous. And he, the perfectly young and vigorous Owen Mylor who had an entire future ahead of him, was just not about that life.

Finally, the heavy restroom doors swung shut, leaving only the two of them.

Jax let out a quiet breath before slowly removing his hand from Killian’s eyes. The arm around the official’s waist loosened as well, giving him enough room to turn around.

The moment Killian faced him, he pointed a distressed finger straight at the redhead.

"Are you out of your mind?!" he demanded. "What was that supposed to be?! And what exactly was there to be jealous about?!"

The words left his mouth so quickly that he didn’t even realize what he’d confessed until the silence that followed.

Jax blinked.

"...Jealous?"

He looked genuinely confused.

"I wasn’t jealous."

He answered so naturally that Killian immediately felt the blood drain from his face before rushing right back.

Oh no.

He’d completely misunderstood.

"I..." Killian’s mouth opened and closed twice before he forced out, "That was obviously a joke."

He cleared his throat.

"I have no idea what you were thinking."

Another pause.

"So I... simply made one."

Even to himself, it sounded painfully unconvincing.

Jax quietly watched him for a long moment.

Then the corners of his lips lifted.

A soft chuckle escaped him before an enormous grin slowly spread across his face.

He took a single step forward.

Killian instinctively stepped back, the unsettling feeling of deja vu clearly impacting the way his body perceived what could’ve easily been a threat.

His lower back bumped against the marble counter with a dull thud.

There was nowhere else to retreat.

Jax stopped only after closing the remaining distance between them.

"Jealous?" he repeated, his voice warm with unmistakable amusement. "You really thought I was jealous?"

"No."

The answer came suspiciously fast.

"I told you. It was a joke."

"Mmm."

Jax nodded thoughtfully.

"My bad."

He scratched the side of his head.

"I didn’t think I was allowed to be jealous earlier."

Killian stared.

"So I really tried not to be."

The words were delivered with such complete sincerity that Killian’s thoughts stalled.

"I only felt that something was wrong about their eyes so I didn’t want you looking at them."

The annoyingly carefree tank paused before smiling again.

"But now that you’ve said that..."

His eyes curved happily.

"Then next time I cover your eyes, it’ll probably be because I’m jealous. Really jealous."

Killian only gawked at him.

It sure as hell hadn’t been obvious as of late, but his mind, capable of handling diplomacy, warfare, and negotiations involving entire planets, abruptly ceased all higher functions.

Jax, meanwhile, looked as though he’d only just remembered something important.

"Actually..." he said, his brows drawing together ever so slightly. "Would it be alright if I covered your whole face instead?"

Killian blinked.

"Because if they saw the expression you’re making right now..." Jax said, studying him with complete seriousness, "what if they liked it too?"

He genuinely seemed troubled by the possibility.

"I don’t think I’d like that very much."

Killian’s heart gave one violent thud against his ribs.

Right then, the grand opening notes of the Empire’s national anthem swept through the arena, the music filtering into the restroom from the speakers outside.

Jax glanced toward the door.

"Oh."

He smiled apologetically.

"I guess we’ve really got to go."

Killian didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

Almost mechanically, he turned toward the mirror above the sink.

The face reflected back at him was so thoroughly red that he looked as though he’d just sprinted across the Capital before throwing himself into a volcano.

His eyes slowly closed.

Well...

There went every last bit of plausible deniability.

If he’d really looked like this ever since Jax covered his eyes, then climbing onto the roof of the arena and publicly confessing would’ve been only marginally more subtle.