Andrew Aiwood, the Student Council President and Second Prince, presented a straightforward proposal. He wanted Rest to join the Student Council Executive Committee and take on a role overseeing student discipline.
"Does that mean... you want me to keep your brother in check?" Rest asked.
"It’s not strictly about my foolish brother. We don’t have anyone from the first-year Magic Department on the committee yet, and quite frankly, I’m looking for raw talent," Andrew replied.
"It’s common practice for the council and the executive committee to share the same department as the president," he continued. "Since I’m a student in the Knight Department, the roster is almost entirely made up of knights. I deliberately appointed a Vice President from the Magic Department to balance things out, and I brought Celestine on board as well, but the disparity remains."
"I see. I’ve heard something to that effect before," Rest noted.
It was information he had come across previously. While Student Council positions were technically decided by election, the winners were almost always from either the Magic or Knight departments. There wasn't an official rule, but children of royalty and high-ranking nobility gravitated toward those tracks, and they naturally drew the most votes.
Despite the Academy’s official stance that social status shouldn't matter, few students were brave enough to oppose a superior, and most preferred to curry favor. When a royal or a high noble ran for president, supporters swarmed to collect votes, and potential rivals usually withdrew before the race even began.
This was especially true in Andrew’s case. When a member of the royal family ran, anyone else—unless they were remarkably socially inept—would step aside. Consequently, Andrew had assumed the presidency automatically without an actual election.
If a fool like Rodel had been the one running, things might have been different, Rest mused. But with Prince Andrew in the Knight Department, it was only natural for the council to skew that way. Between the friction between departments and the simple fact that students in the same building saw each other more often, recruiting from the other side was difficult.
"I hoped to gather members from various departments, but it hasn't gone as smoothly as I’d liked," Andrew admitted. "The rift between our disciplines is deep."
"Then... why me, specifically? Since Your Highness is the President, I imagine you have no shortage of volunteers."
"Oh, there are plenty," Andrew said with a shrug. A cynical smile seemed to be his default expression. "But there’s no point in padding the ranks with mediocrity. The Executive Committee needs members with the skill and influence to act as a deterrent. People need to see you and realize they can’t get away with trouble while you’re around. In that regard, you’re an ideal candidate."
Rest remained silent, listening.
"You’re in Magic Department Class A, and you’re the future husband of the Rosemary House—the family of the Court Mage Captain. On top of that, you’re the freshman everyone is talking about because you beat Danila, the second-ranked knight, in a duel of swordsmanship. If you join, you’ll be a powerful deterrent for the first-year mages... setting my idiot brother aside, for the moment."
"Is the relationship between you and your brother really that strained?"
"It’s bad. Extremely bad," Andrew said, his eyes narrowing as his lips curled.
Though he wore a smile, it didn't reach his eyes. Viola and Primula, sitting on either side of Rest, tensed at the sudden shift in the atmosphere, but the chilling aura vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"The boy is a catastrophic idiot. Some people born into power lose all sense of perspective, but he’s in a league of his own. He looks down even on his own fiancé, the daughter of Duke Crocus, and he has the nerve to insult me because I chose the Knight Department over magic. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve wanted to take his head."
"I see..."
Rest mused that if Andrew had followed through on that impulse, it would have saved him a lot of trouble. But as Celestine had explained before, political reality rarely allowed for such simple solutions.
"As a committee member, you would have legal authority to use magic against students who commit misconduct," Andrew pointed out. "You wouldn't have to rely on indirect methods like smoke screens anymore."
Rest considered this.
"What do you say? It will look good on your record and give you an advantage when looking for employment after graduation—though I suppose that's irrelevant to you."
Andrew shrugged again. He was right; for Rest, who was already set to join the Rosemary House, academic evaluations weren't a priority. He could easily become a Court Mage on his own merits, and he already had the Marquis's connections. There was no need to join the council just to impress the faculty.
Still, the authority to fight back openly was tempting. The ban on offensive magic outside of class was a tedious restriction to navigate.
"I see..."
Rest stole a glance at the twins. Viola and Primula looked back at him in silence, their expressions making it clear that they would support whatever decision he made.
"Could you give me a little time to consider the offer?"
"Yes, of course. Let me know when you have an answer."
Faced with the proposal, Rest settled on the cautious middle ground of a deferred decision.