"Jay, what did I just say?"
The prince stopped explaining and asked me.
"You said it’s important to know a gemstone’s exact maximum mana capacity."
I gave a so-so answer, and the prince smiled so brightly his dimples practically carved into his cheeks. That expression made it seem like he’d realized I’d only been half-listening.
"Correct. Then how did I say you estimate a gemstone’s maximum mana capacity?"
I didn’t think I’d heard that part, but I couldn’t be sure. Seeing his dimples deepen, it felt like I had to answer somehow. The prince’s lessons were pretty brutal, and if he realized I wasn’t focusing properly, it was obvious he’d crank that brutality up another level. Which also meant it was obvious I’d pass out again.
But today, I had a reason I couldn’t pass out. So, gemstones. Yeah. Gemstones. I dredged up the tricks I used when appraising them.
"Uh… first you rely on experience and feed in mana close to the maximum capacity of a gemstone of the same weight, and then… there’s no choice but to fine-tune it by relying on the caster’s senses."
The prince stared straight through me. Like he didn’t like it, one eyebrow lifted. Then, as if there was nothing else to be done, he nodded. He looked genuinely disappointed.
"It sounds like you answered without thinking deeply, but you’re right."
"Seriously?"
That was surprising. Building magic circles using gemstones seemed a lot like gemstone cutting in a lot of ways. In the end, it came down to human senses. If so, there ought to be a more precise method.
"So even the method a novice mage who keeps spacing out can come up with hasn’t improved at all. Is this something we should blame the existing mages for? Including me."
"Yeah. If they’d classified gemstone grades in fine detail and systematized the empirical values, you could just check the grade."
Like how diamonds had a 4C standard. Just like you could set a price based on a gemstone’s grade, you could probably determine maximum mana capacity that way too.
As I nodded along, the prince made a drained expression.
"You’re right again. But mages are selfish by nature. They don’t like sharing what they discover easily."
"Then you could make a measuring device. If you input the systematized grades and maximum capacities, and it outputs which grade the tested gemstone belongs to. I think there’d be mages willing to do it if they could get compensated for systematizing the grades through the measuring device’s sales price. If you look at the mages who made adult products, it’s not like every mage is good at making money."
Even if a mage with an exceptionally sharp sense, someone who could measure maximum mana capacity accurately, put every other study on hold and devoted themselves only to systematizing it, it would still take forever. But thinking back to when I first met the mages who’d become watchmakers, it felt plenty possible.
And a measuring device like that would sell insanely well. Demand wouldn’t just come from mages, either. Jewelers would want it too.
"You really do know how to make money."
The prince shook his head.
"When I listen to you, it feels like it could actually happen."
From the way he frowned, he seemed like he was genuinely wrestling with it.
"So. What’s the reason you can’t focus today?"
Ah, he’s coming in like that.
Hit by that sudden punch, all I did was blink. The prince made a small sound through his nose, then opened his mouth again.
"So there was a reason."
A leading question. Apparently the prince’s ability to read my expression had been systematized faster than my ability, as an attendant, to read my employer’s expression. I had no choice but to surrender. The prince already believed there was a reason I couldn’t focus on the lesson.
I bit my lip, then let it go. I had to say the words that had been filling my head nonstop, leaving no room even for an explanation of magic circles.
"There’s something I need to report."
"Go on."
The prince took his hands off the gemstones and crossed his arms.
"Do you happen to remember a kid named Tommy?"
"Tommy… the kid Miller recommended three months ago, the one working at the produce shop in the market. I remember. Miller said he’d learned to read and write and do basic arithmetic, so Miller said he wanted to take him."
I’d thought the prince might not remember him just from the name. Like how the head of an entertainment agency doesn’t remember every trainee. But the prince not only knew his name, he knew his background clearly.
"You remember?"
"Did you think I wouldn’t know the people in my own house?"
"Sometimes there are people up top who forget the people under them are even people."
It wasn’t only a story that existed in this rigid status-based world. Even back in Korea, exploitation scandals happened often enough that you’d forget and then get reminded again.
That was also why I’d only been kind to Tommy and tried to talk him down. Honestly, physically, he was solid enough that I wouldn’t stand a chance. If I wanted to truly put him in his place, the only way was magic, but if I did that, the prince would sense my magic immediately. The prince knew my mana pattern better than I did.
If I’d unleashed magic on him, tomato soup stains would’ve been cute by comparison. At minimum, Tommy would’ve had to deal with half-burned hair. The attribute I could control most reliably was fire. Just because he spilled soup on me didn’t mean I wanted to break his bones.
And, even though Tommy would probably think it was unbelievably unfair, even if his damage were worse, the prince would definitely take my side. I was the one who got hit first, and people always side with their own. I wasn’t just an attendant serving at the prince’s side at close range; I also made up a pretty large part of the prince’s business.
Besides, Tommy was already on Philip’s bad side. The reason he was being sent out of the estate wasn’t only because there was no opening. The bigger reason was that he’d repeatedly been caught being careless and insincere.
He’d been told to organize the food storage, and then gotten found standing on a stair landing near the study for no reason, for example. Or he’d been told to wash dishes, and then gotten caught lingering in front of a display cabinet holding expensive glasses and magic pots.
Each time, Philip scolded him harshly. But Tommy, for some reason, would glare at me standing beside Philip, while ducking his head to avoid Philip’s eyes. Sometimes his eyes would be bloodshot and watery, like he was about to cry. Unfortunately, since I was shorter than him, I couldn’t help seeing all of it.
If it got out that he’d picked an absurd fight like that, it was obvious his confirmed placement would get blown up.
I thought that was too harsh. If even the bare minimum of welfare existed, I wouldn’t have worried about what came "next" for him. But this was a world where finding a "next" chance was way too hard.
Anyway, he was only picking fights with me, so I told myself that if I went somewhere he wasn’t, he’d probably live somehow on his own.
If he hadn’t run his mouth like that, I wouldn’t have told the prince.
"Tommy thinks I’m your rut partner, Duke."
"What are you talking about?"
The prince’s face twisted viciously. The gemstones on the floor started rolling across the marble. Proof that the prince’s pheromones were shaking.
"Duke."
"Say it clearly. What exactly did he say?"
"..."
"Jay."
The sound of gemstones striking the marble floor grew louder and louder.
"'Male prostitute bastard. A beta like you can take the prince’s seed all you want and it won’t do fucking anything.' That’s what he said."
I’d tried to soften it even a little, but that would be just as fucking pointless, so I gave up. No matter how you said it, the ugliness packed into the meaning didn’t change. In that case, it was better to report it exactly as I’d heard it.
Maybe Tommy hadn’t meant anything deep and just wanted to insult me. No, he definitely had. But the moment he said it out loud, and the moment I heard it, it stopped being something I could dismiss as nothing but nonsense.
The prince’s rut was still a sensitive subject. The king’s spy, Count Umbra’s attendant, still came by the estate from time to time. Acting like a parrot who carried whatever the prince said straight out. What if words different from that started floating around outside? What if it reached the king’s ears?
I didn’t trust Tommy’s self-control at all. Right now he whispered so only I could hear, but once words were said out loud, it was obvious they’d spill out again with even the slightest stimulation.
I had to tell the prince.
It took me a lot of agonizing to reach that conclusion. Enough that I’d listened to the magic circle lesson as if it were background noise. I reviewed it over and over: was it right that the words I delivered could decide a kid’s fate?
And because I knew it would hurt the prince, even more so.
The moment I had the thought, the gemstones that had been trembling on the floor rose into the air. Vibrating violently.
They looked like they might shatter at any second. It looked exactly like what happened when force far beyond a gemstone’s maximum mana capacity was applied.
"Duke."
I hurriedly grabbed the prince’s wrist. Then, in the gentlest way I could, I let my mana flow. Like the prince’s mana I could feel whenever I woke up after passing out.
I met the prince’s eyes. The irises looking down at me were stained red.
Was what I said really that shocking? Enough that the prince couldn’t control pheromones at all? The question was rising—
"G-get… away, Jay."
The prince’s words broke off in fragments. Like someone holding back a moan.
"It’s st-starting…"
At the end of that unfinished sentence, the prince let out a self-mocking laugh.
It was rut.