"The Imperial Royal Women's Academy of Arts wants me to give a lecture on the art of war? And it's this afternoon? That's—"
In his room, John stared at the invitation Bruno had brought from the Imperial Royal Women's Academy of Arts. Surprise flashed through his eyes.
As far as he knew, he had little connection to the women's academy. Professor Gregory of the Royal Academy of Arts had helped create the Maslow Lineage's crest, and Ailafia was currently the academy's honorary dean. That was about it.
Beyond that, he had no ties to the place.
Though it called itself a comprehensive academy, its students were all noblewomen. Most of its courses therefore concerned art and etiquette.
It also offered magical engineering, swordsmanship, and the art of war, but few students took those subjects.
And because the Reformist Faction lacked fresh talent, most of its nobles sent their children to other academies for specialized training, hoping they would become the faction's future backbone. Reformist students were consequently scarce at the women's academy; most belonged to Old Guard Party families.
So rather than a lecture invitation, was this a trap?
Once John had worked through it, he was ready to refuse.
Teaching command tactics to noble girls who knew nothing about war would be a waste of time.
Besides, the peace talks had only just ended. Who knew what underhanded scheme the Old Guard Party might have prepared for him?
At a time like this, the best course for a rising star of the Reformist Faction was to keep a low profile. That would make him less likely to become the Old Guard Party's next target.
Only an idiot would agree to a pointless discussion that was bound to draw their attention.
But just as John was about to decline on