The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] Chapter 407: Grip

It was just telling him and asking for a hug, right?

Okay. He should be able to do that.

What could be so hard about that?

Well, apparently, so many things. For the little guide who just wanted to look for the prince, couldn’t even find him anywhere!

He looked in the training hall, the cabins, and even the dical bay, but nothing. Not even a hint of his familiar energy signature. And even the map that usually displayed people’s location didn’t have Xavier on it.

"Sid," Luca asked hopefully, "do you know where Xavier is?"

"Master Luca, he is currently in a eting with Lord Taylor for the facility’s security system."

"Oh."

"Master, would you like to leave a ssage?"

"Oh, no-no! It’s nothing urgent, I was just curious," stamred Luca, who didn’t want to bother Xavier, who was probably in the middle of sothing important.

It was just that the sa pattern repeated for the rest of the day.

More security division etings, a eting with the marshal, expected and unexpected security threats, and then his usual sparring session with the duchess.

After so ti, Luca realized how difficult it was to cope with ti dilation as ti seed far longer for him.

An hour eting outside was three for him. No wonder Kyle would set alarms so he could deliver the als even at odd hours.

He’s really responsible. Thought Luca, who sighed for the eleventh ti, as noted by D-29.

But even then, within the period he’s heaved those eleven sighs, the similarly responsible heir had actually managed to teach a few people how to care for the sourdough starter, despite the staff looking mildly terrified.

And because of this, and the importance of this beast, they recorded everything. All three lessons and with five different devices.

Just in case, they said.

It was rather dramatic. Luca said so, too. But no one listened; they just smiled and insisted it was for the best.

But mostly, it may have been because the recordings also captured him glancing at the door every few minutes.

Waiting.

As if waiting for soone to just walk in.

However, the little baker didn’t know. No one would call him out after all.

So the learning just continued, and by the end of their first session, a few staff mbers had learned sothing crucial: If they made dough today, they’d have bread or even pizza tomorrow.

It was an exciting realization for everyone, one that even montarily distracted the instructor from the obvious glances and quiet sighs.

And that helped a little with his concentration as he made rounds to check on the different facilities.

He checked on the farms, then did a few adjustnts on the cha components he had been tinkering with.

But when he was finally alone again, back at his workstation, the golden-eyed chanic had resud his sighing escapade, which continued through the night.

And honestly, it would’ve continued until the next day if not for a certain prince noticing just how many tis Sid had had the sa conversation throughout the day.

The breaking point for Xavier, who was still scheduled for individual training after the sparring session, was when Sid ntioned, "27th sigh."

"...What? Sid, what and why are you counting sighs?"

"Master, according to D-29, Little Master Luca had sighed twenty-seven tis today."

"Luca? Twenty-seven tis?"

Why?

However, even as he wondered about it, the prince had already made a decision as he chose to pop a healing pill in the shower instead of heading to the dical bay or to the individual training facility.

In reality, he could ask D-29, but that didn’t feel right outside of an ergency. So the prince opted to look for him.

Which turned out to be the right call.

For Luca, who he couldn’t find in the space, was in turn found at their dorm.

The room was dim, quiet, and fortunately, peaceful.

And there, curled up on their bed—his bed, the one they usually shared when opportunities arose—was his little wife.

Gauging by his breathing, he was fast asleep and completely still. Only, his little chipmunk was wrapped in three of his uniform coats as he slept.

Xavier stood by the foot of the bed, speechless.

Practically frozen.

He wasn’t sure how to react. For one, he didn’t even have those coats out, so Luca must have gathered them all to use as blankets.

His heart thundered, and fearing that the sleeping little dragon would wake up from the loud beating of his heart, Xavier decided to walk over ever so slowly, using his spiritual energy for sothing he couldn’t have ever imagined.

Luca’s hair had flattened on one side. His breathing was steady. And the way he was hugging the lapel of one jacket made sothing tighten in Xavier’s chest.

He reached forward, looking for the actual blanket to tuck him in, before shifting slightly to reach for the bedside light controls to dim the lights for sleeping.

But the mont he moved—

A hand grabbed him.

It was firm.

Fast.

Desperate.

Xavier, whose body surprisingly didn’t initiate a throwdown, blinked before looking down at the little chipmunk who was now wide awake.

His eyes were glossy yet sharp, which sohow matched his face that was scrunched into the most outrageous pout Xavier had ever seen him make.

He looked sleepy, yet alard.

Furious, yet scared.

And sohow his little wife looked like he’d been betrayed or offended?

Now, the prince internally panicked because he hadn’t even gotten the chance to talk to Luca today, with everything that had been happening.

So, what could’ve led to him looking and reacting like this?

"...You were about to leave again," Luca whispered, as if accusing the cri before it could be committed.

"I wasn’t," Xavier whispered back, caught mid-motion.

"You were," Luca insisted, eyes narrowing. "You couldn’t be found the entire day...and now you’re probably sneaking away again."

"I was just adjusting the—"

The mountain giant, who usually stood tall and imposing, couldn’t even continue because even if the small bundle before him didn’t say it, he felt like he was calling him a "liar" with his eyes.

Then the pout deepened and the grip on his wrist tightened.

And just like that, the man feared across battlefields was held hostage by one offended chipmunk in his self-made jacket nest.

And the prince recognized that he probably would not be leaving anyti soon.