The Northern Duke’s Daughter Will Never Fall

Chapter 80: Let’s Have Tea (1)

Violet retrieved her cadet ID from her dormitory.

Every cadet was technically required to carry their ID at all times, but Violet had long ignored that rule. 

Rather than actively avoiding it, she had simply tossed it into her desk drawer and forgotten about it.

Because of this oversight, she had to return to her dormitory after class to fetch it before heading to pick up her package. 

There was no helping it; without the ID, she wouldn’t be able to claim the package anyway.

“Ugh, what a hassle.”

She had a good idea of what the package was: her father probably sent her something ridiculous again. 

Most likely, it was some sort of food accompanied by a comment about how she should watch her figure. 

If she didn’t collect it quickly, it might spoil and explode in the storage room—a disaster she wanted to avoid at all costs.

From the dormitory to the main gate was quite a walk. The distance wasn’t the issue so much as her sheer lack of motivation. 

The thought of trudging all the way there filled her with an overwhelming sense of laziness.

“Ugh… this is such a pain. I’m going, but it’s such a pain…”

Violet knew that this inconvenience was preferable to the embarrassment that would come later if she left the package unchecked. 

As a port city, Autria was famous for its fermented fish delicacies. If one of those packages burst in the mailroom, the resulting stench would be mortifying.

Accepting this, Violet headed toward the gate. Her destination was the post office located beside it. All she had to do was present her ID, retrieve the package, and leave.

“Maybe I’ll grab some yarn cookies while I’m out.”

She’d tried them once before, and they were incredibly tasty. She often saw students bringing them back, and their popularity made sense. 

She also recalled Eranya, fuming with frustration, accusing Astrid of eating an entire box after being told to only take one. 

That memory of Eranya labeling Astrid as the “White Pig of the Snowfield” instead of the “Snow Leopard” still made her chuckle.

Life at the Academy wasn’t too bad. It was fun, even. While sailing and hunting pirates back home was exhilarating in its own way, Violet found the structured lessons and academic lifestyle surprisingly enjoyable.

Even more amusing, however, was watching Astrid and Leopold engage in their bizarre antics. They weren’t the only entertaining people here either, so Violet rarely felt dissatisfied.

“Well… almost never.”

Her one frustration was men.

Her family constantly urged her to find a good match, and as a young woman with her whole life ahead of her, Violet wasn’t entirely disinterested in romance.

But relationships weren’t something one could pursue alone. A suitable partner was essential.

“I still can’t believe that magazine was serious. What’s so appealing about those types?”

Violet clicked her tongue, shaking her head. To her, a man should be large, scarred from battle, and exude the aura of a seasoned warrior. 

Instead, the men popular in the capital were slender, refined, and preferably high-ranking magical knights.

Bulky, physical knights—those who embodied raw strength—were falling out of favor. 

Instead, the dashing image of a mage knight, wielding a rapier in one hand and a magic bracelet on the other, had become the standard of appeal.

“Men should look like men. They should be strong, not dainty and delicate like women.”

Leopold, for example, was far from Violet’s type. She couldn’t understand what Astrid saw in him. Still, it wasn’t her concern.

A true man—a towering, broad-shouldered figure with the stature of a general—was what Violet sought. But where could she find such a man? Surely, they existed somewhere.

As Violet approached the main gate, she noticed a commotion. Voices raised in argument were faintly audible, but she paid them no mind.

“I’m telling you—let me through!”

What’s going on… oh…

Her eyes landed on the source of the uproar.

The man standing at the gate was massive, with a build so imposing it seemed as though he could shoulder the sky itself. 

His frame was easily twice Violet’s size, packed with dense, rippling muscle that seemed capable of crushing her in a bear hug.

The scars on his face twitched as he shouted, and more marks peeked from his collar, signs of battles fought and survived. Every movement of his body exuded raw, unrestrained power.

This… this is it. This is a warrior.

“I’m Ashray Miterien!” the man bellowed, trying to gain entry past the guards.

“What is this commotion… oh…”

The sight before Violet rendered her motionless.

The man at the gate towered as though he could shoulder the sky itself. 

His massive build seemed twice her size, his broad frame packed with dense muscle that exuded raw power.

His scarred face twitched with every shout, the lines and nicks on his features moving with his expressions. 

Even his neck bore faint traces of old wounds. These marks weren’t just scars—they were medals, the proud insignias of a warrior who had survived countless battles.

Violet stood dumbstruck, rooted to the spot. Her gaze was fixed on him, and she found herself unable to breathe. A sharp gasp escaped her as she remembered how.

Her chest pounded furiously, her heart refusing to calm down.

That short-cropped black hair? Masculinity incarnate. That scar across his nose? A badge of honor. That overwhelming presence, radiating a warrior’s spirit? Pure manhood.

Violet felt faint, heat rising as mirages danced before her eyes.

This was fate. It had to be.

There was no escaping it.

Taking slow, deliberate steps, Violet approached him.

“Uh, excuse me.”

“What?!”

The man turned sharply from shouting at the gate staff and glared at Violet. 

His face was red with frustration, his rage almost tangible, yet to Violet, even his anger was captivating.

“Yes… a man should have a fiery temperament like this.”

“W-what seems to be the problem?”

“This gentleman insists on entering without presenting proper identification,” the guard explained, clearly flustered.

“Hey! I’m telling you, I’m Ashray Miterien! Is there anywhere in this country a Miterien isn’t allowed to enter?!”

“If you could just provide some form of identification…”

The guard sighed, clearly struggling to remain professional.

“M-Miterien, you say?”

“Yes! If I hadn’t lost my father’s letter, I wouldn’t be dealing with this nonsense!”

“So, you’re Astrid’s brother?”

Why hadn’t she seen him before? That thought briefly crossed Violet’s mind before being completely drowned out by the flurry of emotions blossoming within her.

This man—this rugged, warrior-like figure—what was his story? Violet wanted to know everything.

“Oh, her younger brother, yes. Are you one of my sister’s friends?”

Astrid, thank you. I’ll worship you forever. Let me call you sister-in-law. No, please call me your sister-in-law.

Violet inwardly showered Astrid with gratitude as she mustered the brightest smile she could.

“Of course! We’re practically inseparable!”

We’re about to be from now on!!!!!

A Short Walk Later

“Oh my, you came all this way because of your sister?”

“Pretty much. Still, I guess I’m lucky. I didn’t expect to run into one of my sister’s friends here.”

Violet inwardly patted herself on the back for remembering to bring her cadet ID. 

She resolved to always carry it from now on, just in case something like this happened again. 

She had a faint sense she might have forgotten something else, but it didn’t seem important.

“Well, yes! You are lucky. The Academy guards are known for sticking strictly to the rules. Without ID, they wouldn’t let you in.”

Violet made sure to emphasize her role in helping him gain entry.

“Is that so? But my sister just showed her cadet ID and walked right in…”

Ashray’s skepticism showed, but Violet waved it off.

“Please, call me Violet. Violet de Autria, daughter of the Admiral of the Southern Fleet.”

“Oh, uh… I apologize, Lady Violet. I shouldn’t have addressed you so informally.”

“Of course not! Don’t call me anything so distant.”

She leaned toward him slightly, ensuring her tone carried just the right amount of warmth.

“Just call me Violet.”

“Pardon? V-Violet? Not Lady Autria?”

“Yes, exactly. Violet. Go ahead, try it—Vio-let.”

“V-Violet, ma’am?”

Ashray took a step back, visibly flustered, but Violet stepped forward to match him.

“No, no, drop the ‘ma’am.’ Just Violet. Vio-let.”

“V-Violet…”

“Perfect! Now, since I helped you get in, you owe me, don’t you?”

Ashray hesitated, scratching the back of his head. Technically, he might have been able to argue his way in without her help. The guards seemed ready to relent earlier. 

Still, her assistance had sped things up, so he nodded reluctantly.

“Well… yes, I suppose I do owe you. I’ll repay the favor someday—”

“Have tea with me.”

“Pardon?”

Ashray froze, completely taken aback. Violet beamed at him, putting her best effort into an enticing smile.

“Right now. Have tea with me. Are you going to say no?”

Ashray blinked. He had intended to find Astrid first, then seek out Marquis Baizik.

Is this how people in the capital behave?

Ashray’s confusion deepened, but he couldn’t find the words to refuse.