The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 317

Chapter 317: Misconceptions
But not all prayers could be answered.

And instead of the beautiful sound of cracking ground and falling debris, what they were greeted with was the hiss of the cockpit seals disengaging.

It should’ve been barely audible. But to those watching, it may as well have been the starting bell to war.

Duchess Amelia’s body tensed.

She didn’t even wait for the door to open and was already stepping forward, eyes locked on the cockpit like it had personally offended three generations of her ancestors.

But who was she kidding? Three? Make that five.

Ollie was practically shaking Kyle now as he stared wide-eyed at the duchess, who was ready to spring.

“Kyle!!!” Ollie hissed, gripping his arm like it was the only thing tethering him to life.

But what could they do?

The mother dragon was ready to strike.

Cece barely managed to intercept her again with both arms outstretched and a full-body tackle that looked far too intense for someone her size.

“Wait!” the dwarf yelped, planting herself in Amelia’s path. “Wait, wait, wait—look!”

Amelia was breathing hard, fury pulsing under her skin like a second heartbeat.

But she looked.

For she did have to check if those destructive tendrils still surrounded her son.

However, she didn’t expect to have to blink twice, no, thrice.

Then paused.

Because she wasn’t particularly expecting this kind of scene.

Out stepped Luca.

Not bruised. Not shaking. Not barely conscious.

No.

Her boy was glowing.

Radiant, flushed, skin soft and dewy like he was out there competing with a baby’s butt. He was holding himself upright, eyes clear, lips lightly parted like he’d simply had a long nap and a very refreshing facial.

If not for those furrowed brows and his odd situation, the duchess would’ve thought that her son had visited the fountain of youth.

But what made everything look suspicious was the person being assisted by her son.

The perpetrator.

The boy—no, man—she had been mentally eviscerating for the last forty-eight minutes.

The one she’d been ready to flatten the moment the hatch opened.

And he looked…

Like he had five minutes left to live.

See, Xavier Aeric Thoren Solaris, heir to the Imperial Crown, descended the cockpit step with Luca’s help, trying—and failing—to hide just how much weight he was not putting on his legs.

His skin was pale, his breath was shallow, and his jaw was clenched like he was biting back an entire speech on pride.

But to one particular duchess, her focus was on how this giant didn’t look one bit guilty.

He looked wrecked.

And Luca, for all his glow and shine, was holding him with the utmost care, like someone tending to glass.

Amelia’s brain short-circuited.

“That—what—” she started, only to find that her words refused to cooperate.

“Your Grace,” came a voice from behind her.

Everyone turned.

It was Butler Gary.

To his credit, he looked like a man about to walk into a firing squad. But he walked anyway, stepping beside Cece and offering a shallow bow before squaring his shoulders.

Gary cleared his throat, then continued, though his tone was more cautious now.

“This… this isn’t exactly easy to explain,” he admitted. “I’m not even sure I know how to explain it.”

He glanced once at Luca, then at Xavier, visibly struggling to find the words.

“But Your Grace, it…goes way back. From the very first day they saw each other.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes scanning the others for some form of help that didn’t come.

For all that eloquence he was supposed to have, Butler Gary wasn’t particularly sure how he was supposed to explain their Young Lord’s dominance and could only illustrate it the same way he did when explaining to Duke Leander.

But just as Butler Gary was bracing himself to explain the full saga of Luca Kyros and his deceivingly submissive wolf, the hobbling duo arrived.

Luca’s steps were cautious but steady, one arm curled firmly around Xavier’s waist. The prince, despite trying very hard not to lean, was definitely leaning. And though his expression was calm, there was a tautness around his mouth that spoke of fatigue and preparation.

Because Xavier had just overheard enough of Butler Gary’s hesitant retelling to know exactly what kind of story was being formed out here.

And to be honest?

He got it.

Between his collapsed posture and Luca’s glowing, spa-refreshed complexion, it did look like he’d just been drained of everything while Luca had harvested the sun.

It was understandable.

But not entirely fair.

Although he could see why, for this wouldn’t be the first time the butler would have witnessed such a scene.

There was that one time they were found on the floor of their dorm after Luca discovered he could earn CP from Xavier..

Then there was that time after Luca’s awakening when the prince almost ended up as charcoal if not for luck.

They’d been found in a very compromising position, one that practically screamed scandal. And only now did Xavier get to confirm his long-standing guess.

In the eyes of these people, he was the sub.

He could let them believe it was a strange bond, or even a noble sacrifice.

He could even play the role of the “willing victim,” if it meant sparing himself from questions. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Especially not if it meant people thinking Luca was some dominatrix instead of the money-grubby little chipmunk with a martyrdom complex he really was.

So Xavier exhaled, leaned closer to Luca, and whispered low, “Luca, do you think you’re ready to share a few things with your mom? I was hoping to correct a few misconceptions.”

Luca blinked at him, confused for a second.

He didn’t understand at first.

Until Xavier leaned closer and murmured under his breath, “A few people might… have the wrong idea about us. I’d like to set things straight—but only if you’re ready to talk about a few things.”

The little guide froze, his breath catching as the weight of those words sank in.

His reaction was instinctive, born out of years of thinking a particular way.

He clung a little tighter to Xavier, brow furrowed, eyes wide and searching.

“Would it… would it be okay?” his voice barely more than a whisper, practically breathed against the prince’s chest.

Xavier looked down at him, gaze steady and warm despite the weariness. He nodded, just once.

“I think it would be safe. At least… with your mother.”

However, whispering wouldn’t have gotten them anywhere.

Because Duchess Amelia, who had the enhanced hearing of every mother attuned to their child, had already picked it up.

Correct what?

Misconceptions?

What misconceptions?!

Her eyes snapped back to the two of them, zeroing in on Xavier like a targeting system locking on.

She took a step forward; the air felt charged again.

Only she couldn’t determine who to be angry at with that look on her son’s face.