The Princess's Private Tutoring - Chapter 2

Episode 2. What’s Wrong with My Ideal Type?

Hailmary’s mouth fell open. She quickly looked around. She was embarrassed someone might have heard. Then she realized something.

At the very least, the people of Stella Palace all knew Celestia’s ideal type.

The maids of Stella Palace were calmly going about their work with indifferent faces. As if they hadn’t heard a thing!

“Miss Hailmary, I have no intention of retracting my ideal type. So you’d better give up trying to persuade me to meet the bald prince. I’ll explain it to Father myself. I’ll tell him you made a very good case, but unfortunately, it didn’t move my heart.”

Hailmary flinched. She looked like a child caught stealing food.

“You knew?”

“What? That you came here under His Majesty’s orders?”

“Yes…”

Hailmary’s shoulders slumped.

“No need to blame yourself for being caught. It’s not that you failed to hide it. I just have sharp instincts.”

“It’s not just that…”

“Of course, I don’t doubt your friendship. I know you didn’t come just because His Majesty asked. You’re scared, right? That the prophecy might come true.”

“Please don’t say something so frightening!”

Hailmary raised her voice in protest. She instantly turned pale and trembled. She looked utterly terrified.

She truly cared for Celestia.

It was Celestia who had helped Hailmary when she was shunned by society due to a scandal.

How could she not care for the one who had extended a hand when she had fallen into ruin?

Strictly speaking, it was also Celestia who had introduced Hailmary to her fiancé.

When Hailmary hesitated because of all the conditions, Celestia had told her the most important thing was her happiness.

Thanks to that, Hailmary was about to marry a man who, while lacking in some ways, made her feel at ease and cherished her.

They weren’t married yet, but she had a strong feeling that her future after marriage would be filled with joy.

And if danger did befall her, she knew Celestia would not hesitate to save her.

To Hailmary, Celestia was a savior—and would always be one.

That was why she wanted to be helpful to Celestia as well. But instead of helping, she had made her bring up that dreadful prophecy.

Hailmary couldn’t forgive herself. And she resented how composed Celestia seemed.

“Miss Hailmary, calm down.”

Celestia pushed a teacup toward Hailmary. It was lavender tea, meant to soothe her nerves.

“I’m not going to die.”

“How can you be so sure? The prophecy has never been wrong. For Your Highness to survive, you must marry quickly… but you keep insisting on your ideal type. The kind of man Your Highness wants doesn’t exist!”

With tears welling in the corners of her eyes, Hailmary passionately argued.

‘So that condition is the biggest problem.’

At this rate, it looked like Hailmary might burst into tears. Once she started crying, it was hard even for Celestia to console her.

In the end, Celestia reluctantly said, “He exists.”

“What?”

“A man like that exists.”

Hailmary hastily wiped away her tears.

She narrowed her eyes and stared hard at Celestia. She was trying to judge whether it was true. And came to a conclusion.

It was true. Celestia’s ideal type actually existed.

A man with no greed for power, good looks, and a big cock!

“Where is he? If he exists, we can’t just sit here. We need to bring him in right away!” Hailmary shouted with sudden determination, as if she hadn’t been on the verge of tears.

“Exactly, right?”

“Sorry?”

“We need to bring him in, right?”

Hailmary sensed something strange in Celestia, whose eyes sparkled with a certain madness, and cleared her throat.

“…No kidnapping. Understood? We’ll do this legally…”

“Pfft, what are you saying, Miss Hailmary? Kidnapping? If I did that, he’d flee to a place I could never reach.”

Celestia smiled as she spoke, but her smile was tinged with bitterness. Her expression looked distant.

How to describe it—she smelled of unrequited love. And an old one at that.

The chances that Celestia’s unicorn-like ideal type actually existed had risen dramatically.

Hailmary sighed in relief. Then suddenly, a thought struck her.

How had Celestia come to dream of such a strange and risqué ideal type?

No, that wasn’t the important part.

Hailmary, who had been silently recalling her conversation with Celestia, suddenly cried out.

“But that man’s thing—have you, I mean, did you see it?”

Celestia smiled. It was a bright, innocent, pure smile.

That smile said it all.

She had seen it.

Celestia had seen it—his big, magnificent cock.

***

Frustrated at not getting a clear answer, Hailmary returned early.

She had wanted to stay and talk with Celestia longer, but her anxious fiancé was waiting.

“A peculiar ideal type, huh.”

Celestia rolled a fresh cherry in her mouth as she recalled Hailmary’s question.

“How did you end up with such a peculiar ideal type?”

Though she couldn’t agree with Hailmary’s use of the word “peculiar,” she quietly brought to mind the people who had influenced her type—starting with her nanny, Madam James.

“Princess Tia, no—my dear niece Tia. A man, you see, must be well-endowed down there. Living with a man who doesn’t fill a woman up inside is just… too miserable.”

Having lost her mother early, Celestia was raised by Madam James, who took on the role of her nanny. After Celestia reached adulthood, she would often say such things.

That one must marry a man who was well-endowed below the belt.

Considering that debuting at seventeen was regarded as adulthood in the kingdom, she had heard such talk for five years straight.

Then there was Lady Eldorado.

Though a cousin, she was much older. She had gotten married five years ago, but within a week, she fled her newlywed home and hid in Celestia’s bedroom.

“It was a scam marriage! How was I supposed to know he couldn’t get it up? He just kept fondling my chest instead of putting it in. All eunuchs should just die!”

Agitated, Lady Eldorado shouted and cried, forgetting Celestia was listening.

Eunuchs were unacceptable. And to think he was only the size of a pinky. Even when hard, it was a problem.

Their marriage, which had been filled with loneliness, ended in disaster.

The king, who presided over noble divorces, had opposed the annulment to the very end.

But when he heard that the thighs of the two, worn from loneliness, had bruised from beating each other, he finally stamped the divorce papers.

They weren’t the only ones.

Even the conversations in the women’s lounge at balls and the secret novels passed around by maids emphasized a man’s virility—and size—as essential to a happy marriage.

Celestia drew one conclusion from all this data.

A small one is only worth a small price.

Who knows whether a big one will cause trouble or not—but a small one always did.

In fiction, in reality.

As a princess who must shoulder the kingdom, minimizing the risk of a bad husband was her duty.

So Celestia had to meet a big man.

“If he didn’t exist, fine—but since he does, why should I marry someone unverified?” Celestia muttered to herself.

Everyone who heard her ideal type would shake their heads and say it was like chasing a unicorn, but such a man did exist.

Praised as a genius, a man whom Perriorson tried to place in a key post to serve the kingdom, but who left it all behind to pursue academia.

He met the first condition of Celestia’s ideal type.

He also ranked first every year on the continent’s list of most handsome men published by gossip magazines.

There was no better match for Celestia, who proudly held the top spot in the most beautiful women ranking.

He was five years older than her, but that made it even better. It meant he was in a hurry to marry.

“Second condition, also cleared.”

The third condition—Celestia’s most important one.

That, she had personally confirmed with her own eyes. About five years ago. It was purely an accident.

***

“Houston! Houston, where are you?”

It happened when Celestia visited her cousin Houston’s villa for the first time in a while.

With his curly brown hair, Houston adored Celestia like his own little sister.

Once a year, he would always invite her to his villa surrounded by forest to teach her fishing, horseback riding, water gun hunting, stone skipping, and more.

The year she came of age was no exception.

But he often disappeared, leaving Celestia alone.

At the time, Celestia didn’t know where the 22-year-old, energetic Houston went. But now she did.

He went to the gentlemen’s club to smoke cigars, play cards, and drink.

Things one couldn’t possibly do in a house with a sweet and innocent younger sister.

Back then, Celestia didn’t know where he went, so it often turned into a game of hide-and-seek in the villa—with no clear instigator.

That day was the same.

Celestia was itching to show off her newly honed stone skipping skills.

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

“Good morning.”

She barely responded to greetings and flung open the doors throughout the villa.

The parlor where she played chess with Houston, the study where they had debates, even the marquis’s room where he secretly smoked cigars—none could escape Celestia’s search.

But there was no sign of Houston anywhere.

“Don’t tell me he’s still asleep?”

With her cheeks puffed out, Celestia headed for Houston’s bedroom.