Forbidden Desires: Conquering Kingdoms And Women In a Fantasy World!

As I stepped out of the examination hall, I was immediately aware of the weight of dozens of stares following my every movement.

"Did you see how quickly he finished?" someone murmured behind me.

"Probably gave up halfway through," another voice replied with obvious disdain.

"Look at those clothes—what did we expect from a peasant?"

I could feel the hostile gazes boring into my back as I walked. My simple shirt and breeches, which had seemed merely practical this morning, now felt like a scarlet letter marking me as an outsider in this world of silk and privilege. The irony wasn't lost on me—in finishing first, I had somehow committed the dual sin of appearing both incompetent and presumptuous.

Most of the nobles who bothered to look at me did so with barely concealed contempt, their expressions making it clear that they viewed my early completion as either evidence of my inadequacy or an affront to their sensibilities. How dare a commoner treat their sacred examination as something easily conquered? The very suggestion that their rigorous academic challenges might not pose a significant obstacle to someone of my background was clearly intolerable.

And I was indeed the very first to emerge. As I glanced back at the hall's entrance, I could see proctors checking their timepieces with surprised expressions, clearly not accustomed to students completing the examination so quickly. Their professional composure remained intact, but I caught the subtle exchanges of glances that suggested my performance—whether impressive or disastrous—was already becoming a topic of discussion among the faculty.

Choosing to ignore the curious stares of the overseers and the increasingly pointed whispers of my fellow applicants, I made my way across the courtyard to a more peaceful corner of the academy grounds. Here, someone with an eye for beauty had created a small garden sanctuary—carefully tended flower beds arranged around several stone benches, with climbing roses beginning to show their early spring blooms against trellises of wrought iron.

I settled onto one of the benches, positioning myself where I could enjoy the view of the garden while keeping an eye on the examination hall's entrance. The morning air carried the sweet fragrance of early blossoms, and despite the tension of the situation, I found myself appreciating the tranquil beauty of the space. The academy's grounds were truly magnificent—every detail spoke of centuries of careful cultivation and generous funding.

Leaning back against the bench, I allowed myself a moment of rest.

As minutes ticked by, other early finishers began to emerge from the examination hall. They came out in ones and twos at first, then in a small but steady stream as the more confident or well-prepared students completed their work. The courtyard gradually filled with clusters of young nobles, their conversations creating a constant hum of nervous energy and social positioning.

Yet despite the growing crowd, a conspicuous circle of empty space remained around my bench. No one approached to sit nearby, no one attempted casual conversation, and the few who passed close enough to my position did so with obvious reluctance, as if proximity to a commoner might somehow contaminate their noble status.

Instead, I found myself the subject of increasingly bold commentary from the gathering crowd. The whispered discussions had evolved into more open criticism, delivered with the casual cruelty that seemed to be a birthright of the privileged class.

"Look at him sitting there so smugly," one young man declared loudly enough for half the courtyard to hear. "Probably scribbled nonsense on his papers and thinks he's fooled someone."

"My father says they only admit a few commoners each year for charity," a girl in an elaborate blue gown added with a laugh. "Makes the rest of us look generous by comparison."

"I heard they make them do manual labor to pay for their education," another voice chimed in. "Cleaning chambers and tending horses like proper servants."

The comments continued in this vein, each speaker seemingly trying to outdo the others in wit and viciousness. They spoke about me as if I were deaf, or perhaps simply beneath the courtesy of being treated as a human being capable of hearing their observations. The casual dehumanization was almost impressive in its thoroughness.

I maintained my relaxed posture on the bench, giving no visible reaction to their words. These were the same petty power games I had observed and occasionally participated in during my previous life—the need to establish hierarchy through the diminishment of others, the comfort found in shared cruelty toward acceptable targets. It was childish behavior disguised as sophistication, and I genuinely couldn't bring myself to care about their opinions.

Still, I found myself wishing I could simply leave. The practical examinations wouldn't begin for some time, and sitting here as the object of collective disdain was growing tiresome. But I was waiting for Alicia.

The hostile buzz of conversation continued to swirl around me, creating a constant background noise of judgment and speculation. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to center myself and ignore the increasingly creative insults being lobbed in my direction. At least their attention was focused on mocking my presumed failure rather than questioning how I might have succeeded—that would have been a more dangerous conversation entirely.

Just as I was beginning to consider the merits of finding a more secluded waiting area, I felt the bench shift slightly as someone settled beside me. My first thought was that Alicia had finally finished her examination, and I turned with a welcoming smile already forming on my face.

Instead, I found myself staring at a complete stranger—and what a striking stranger she was.

The young woman who had chosen to sit beside me possessed an unconventional beauty that immediately commanded attention. Her hair was a rich light brown, neither fully blonde nor brunette, and she had pulled it back into what could charitably be called a messy ponytail. Several strands had escaped the binding to frame her face, giving her an slightly disheveled appearance that suggested either haste or deliberate casualness.

But it was her eyes that truly arrested my attention—a deep, warm gold.

Her clothing presented an interesting contradiction. The gown she wore was clearly of noble quality—fine silk in a deep forest green, with intricate embroidery along the bodice and sleeves that spoke of skilled craftsmanship and considerable expense. The cut and style marked her as someone of significant status, at least in theory.

Yet everything about her demeanor contradicted the refinement her clothing suggested. Her expression was rough around the edges, lacking the carefully cultivated serenity that noble girls were trained to maintain from childhood. And as soon as she had settled onto the bench, she had crossed one leg over the other in a gesture that was both natural and completely inappropriate for a lady of quality.

The crossed leg was particularly scandalous by the standards of noble society.

I blinked several times, processing this unexpected development while stealing glances around the courtyard. The reaction to her arrival was immediate and dramatic. If I had been gathering disapproving stares before, this young woman's presence had elevated the collective outrage to an entirely new level.

The whispered conversations had stopped entirely, replaced by shocked silence and increasingly bold stares. Several groups of nobles were pointing in our direction with barely concealed horror, their expressions suggesting they had witnessed something truly scandalous.

"Now there's someone who knows how to make an entrance," I thought to myself, genuinely impressed by her ability to generate even more hostility than a commoner in peasant's clothing.

My curiosity was thoroughly piqued now obviously.

Who was this girl?

I didn't think she had seated herself beside me for any particularly profound reason. Most likely, she had simply surveyed the available seating options and chosen the most practical spot—which happened to be next to the courtyard's other social pariah. It was a logical decision from someone who clearly didn't concern herself overly much with social niceties.

Regardless of her motivations, the effect of our proximity was undeniable. With both of us occupying the same bench, we had transformed into something resembling exotic animals in a menagerie. The other nobles maintained their careful distance while gawking openly, their expressions a fascinating mixture of horror, curiosity, and barely suppressed glee at witnessing such a spectacular breach of protocol.

"Do you need something?" The girl asked suddenly, her gold eyes fixing on me with sharp intelligence. There was no hostility in her tone, merely practical curiosity—as if she had noticed my attention and wanted to understand its purpose.

"What's your name?" I asked directly, seeing no point in elaborate social dancing with someone who clearly appreciated straightforward communication.

"Neliel," she replied without hesitation, though she offered no family name or titles to accompany the introduction.

I searched my memory for any reference to that name among the noble families I had studied, but came up empty. This wasn't entirely surprising—my education had focused primarily on the major houses and their immediate connections, not every minor branch and distant relation that might attend the academy.

"I see," I nodded, turning my attention back toward the examination hall's entrance.

Hurry up Alicia.

"Hey, commoner."

The voice carried the particular blend of arrogance and disdain that I had been expecting all morning. I looked up to find three young men approaching our bench with the predatory confidence of pack hunters who had identified vulnerable prey. They moved with the easy swagger of those accustomed to having their authority unquestioned, their expensive clothing and carefully groomed appearances marking them as products of privilege and entitlement.

Here we go, I thought resignedly. I had hoped that sitting quietly and minding my own business might allow me to avoid direct confrontation, but apparently, some of the more aggressive nobles had decided that my mere presence required active correction.

"Do you need something?" I asked them pleasantly, maintaining my relaxed posture on the bench while offering what I hoped was a disarming smile.

The leader of the trio—a young man with perfectly styled blonde hair and the kind of sharp features that suggested generations of careful breeding—narrowed his pale blue eyes at my casual response. "A commoner like you shouldn't be allowed here," he declared, his voice pitched to carry to the surrounding crowd of observers.

"Yet here I am," I replied mildly, "having been officially admitted to take the entrance examination. It seems the academy's administration disagrees with your assessment."

The simple logic of my response seemed to catch him off guard momentarily. One of his companions, a stocky boy with dark hair and a face flushed red with indignation, leaned forward aggressively.

"What's with this bastard?" He snarled. "Acting all high and mighty like he belongs here."

"And his hair and eyes are so weird as hell," the third member of their group added, staring at my distinctive features with undisguised suspicion. "Never seen anything like it."

This observation wasn't entirely inaccurate. My unusual white hair and pink eyes had been drawing stares all morning. Even among the noble girls who regarded me with obvious disdain for my common origins, I had noticed lingering glances that suggested my appearance was striking enough to command interest despite their social prejudices.

The blonde leader, clearly annoyed that his initial intimidation attempt had fallen flat, decided to escalate his approach. "Get out of this academy, commoner," he sneered, making a show of examining my simple clothing with theatrical disgust. "You stink of cows and mud from miles away. This place is for your betters, not some farm boy playing dress-up."

"It doesn't seem to bother you that much," I observed conversationally, "considering how close you're choosing to stand to me right now."

The comment earned a quiet but audible chuckle from Neliel, who had been watching the exchange with obvious amusement.

The blonde noble's face flushed crimson at the gentle mockery, his carefully maintained composure cracking under the pressure of public embarrassment. "W…what did you say?!" he stammered, his voice climbing toward a higher pitch that undermined his attempt at authoritative intimidation. "I am the son of Viscount Aldridge! How dare a commoner like you speak to me with such—"

"Harold."

The familiar voice cut through the escalating confrontation like a cooling breeze. I turned to see Alicia approaching rapidly, her expression showing clear concern as she took in the scene before her. She had obviously noticed the commotion from across the courtyard and hurried over to investigate.

When the three aggressive nobles caught sight of Alicia—her noble bearing unmistakable despite her obvious association with me—they immediately reassessed the situation. The presence of a legitimate lady complicated their simple narrative of putting an upstart commoner in his place. After exchanging quick glances and a few muttered comments, they clicked their tongues in disgust and began to retreat, clearly unwilling to risk offending someone of actual noble blood over their desire to harass me.

"Lady Alicia," I said formally, rising from the bench in a show of proper respect that I hoped would help mitigate any damage my confrontation might have caused to her reputation.

"I…I'm sorry I took so much time," she said, guilt evident in her voice and expression. "I didn't mean to leave you alone to deal with... that."

"There's nothing to apologize for," I assured her. "You needed the time to do your best work, and that was exactly what you should have done. How did it go? Do you feel confident about your answers?"

Alicia's face brightened considerably, the worry lines around her eyes smoothing as she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Once I got started, everything seemed much clearer than I expected. The history questions were exactly the topics we studied, and the magical section felt very manageable."

"Excellent. I knew you would do well once you got past the initial nerves."

"Good then," I continued, glancing around the courtyard where other students were beginning to gather in preparation for the next phase of testing. "Let's head to the practical examination area. I believe they'll be starting the next round soon."

Alicia nodded eagerly and began to move toward the designated testing areas, her confidence clearly restored by her successful completion of the written portion. As I prepared to follow her, I cast one final glance back at Neliel, who remained seated on the bench with her legs still crossed in that scandalously casual pose.

She caught my look and offered a slight nod—not quite friendly, but acknowledging our brief shared experience as the courtyard's primary objects of fascination.