Disguised Before The Alpha Prince

Chp 7

Pearl

Why is it so difficult staying alone? As I walked through the streets, I missed my aunt so much. She was right. This world is filled with awful people—like the ones I’ve recently encountered. Will I ever meet someone with a kind heart? Someone who’s not arrogant, selfish, or sly?

Suddenly, I noticed the door of a shed creak open, and I heard deep groans—someone was in pain. I rushed inside and found a young man lying on the ground, clutching a wound. He looked like he was dying. I panicked for a second—what should I do? I was also getting late for the university, but I couldn’t just leave him here to die.

I stood up and glanced around for something to help with his injury. In another corner of the shed, I spotted some herbal leaves. I had learned basic medicine from my tutor—who knew that knowledge would come in handy like this? I quickly gathered the leaves and found a small stone crusher nearby. I began to crush them into a paste, adding a few drops of water to make it smoother.

After washing my hands, I reached into my clothing and pulled out the long white cloth I used daily to bind my breasts. I tore it in half and returned to the injured man. He was still groaning in pain, barely conscious. I knelt beside him and started applying the herbal paste to his wound. His half-open eyes looked at me as he whispered, “Who are you, and why are you helping me?”

I gently placed my hand over his mouth. “Please don’t talk. You’ve already lost a lot of blood and strength. Just rest. I’m helping you because I can’t watch someone die in front of me. I’d never forgive myself.”

As I applied the paste, I examined the wound closely—luckily, it wasn’t too deep, and the skin wasn’t torn enough to need stitches. I carefully wrapped the cloth around it. His body was perfect as well, like he worked out every single day—just like that arrogant noble. But no, I can't even compare that prick’s body to his. That noble pricks body is annoyingly flawless, sculpted like a statue meant to irritate me. It's like the Moon Goddess spent extra hours making him just to mess with my sanity. And why—why am I even thinking about his body right now?! Pearl, get a grip! This is not the time to admire muscles. Stay focused, girl—you have a mission!

Wait, Pearl. Stop. What are you doing admiring this guy? Focus!

I finished dressing his wound and sighed in relief. He seemed more relaxed now, his breathing slower.

“I’ll take my leave, sir. Please take care of yourself,” I said softly, standing up.

But before I could move, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer. Our faces were just inches apart. I could feel his warm breath on my skin, and my heart started pounding.

He leaned near my ear. “Thank you... I owe you. I’ll repay this debt, I promise,” he said in a low, drowsy voice.

I quickly freed myself and took a few steps back. That was... sudden! I didn’t say another word—I simply grabbed my things and walked out.

After what felt like hours of walking, I finally reached the hostel near the university. All students were required to stay there. First, I needed to enroll in the hostel before registering at the university. The courtyard was full of boys around my age—some older. They were tall, muscular, and looked intimidating. Great, I’ve walked into a warrior farm and I’m the only bean sprout. And then there was me... barely past five feet, standing there like a lost dwarf.

As I stepped through the tall gates of the hostel, my eyes widened. The structure wasn’t just a building—it was a silent sermon carved in stone. The courtyard was lined with aged statues, each placed with intention, as though they watched over generations of scholars.

One stood tall at the center—a noble warrior with a book in one hand and a sword in the other. His chiseled face bore a calm fierceness, and the inscription below read: “Wisdom is the blade that never dulls.” I couldn’t help but whisper it aloud. Powerful. Intimidating. Everything I was pretending to be.

Another statue had two young men seated under a tree, one whispering into the other's ear. I tilted my head, curious. The plaque said: “Knowledge is meant to be shared, not hoarded.” A lesson most nobles clearly ignored.

I admired the way every corner of the hostel seemed to carry a message—strength, loyalty, discipline. There was even a large stone lantern shaped like a roaring lion, its mouth wide open as if ready to devour ignorance itself. I almost laughed. Even the decorations had more confidence than me.

I kept walking, the weight of my bag pressing into my shoulder—but strangely, I felt lighter. For once, I wasn’t the girl in hiding. I was a student at the doorstep of a world that only men had been allowed to enter.

I need to be more careful. If they find out that a woman is here in the scholar academy, that would lead to execution—and I cannot die without finding my parents' murderers.

While walking, I bumped into a huge guy. He looked down at me and bowed his head slightly, then gave me a smirk as he stared.

“Watch your step, little guy,” he said in a cold voice, glancing at his friends.

“Pretty boy looks lost, right? Why don’t we show him the way?” he added, laughing with them.

I didn’t want any trouble. I had to stay away from people as much as I could. I lowered my head.

“I’m sorry. I was too engrossed in admiring the surroundings and didn’t notice you. I’ll take my leave,” I said, trying to walk away.

But the man stopped me, placing his hand in front of me.

“Where are you going, little boy? Just look at him—short and girly-looking. He doesn’t deserve to be at the university,” he said, laughing as his friends joined in to humiliate me.

I looked at him with a disgusted expression.

I couldn’t just stay silent. I had to speak up—I hate it when someone tries to insult me.

“Listen, Mr. Whoever-You-Are, to be a scholar, we don’t need just good looks. It requires courage, talent, and intelligence,” I said firmly.

They started to get closer, but suddenly stepped back, their faces twisted in fear. I was confused—what was happening?

That’s when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I glanced sideways and looked up.

It was that noble—the one who took my bracelet. He stood behind me with a smile, waving casually as if to say hi.

“You!! What are you doing here?” I asked, scanning him from top to bottom.

He adjusted his clothes and looked confident.

“A thank you would be nice. I just saved you from those thugs,” he said with a smirk.

“I didn’t ask for your help. I could handle them on my own,” I said, avoiding eye contact. The truth was, those guys probably would have beaten me to death. But I was too proud to admit that. Anyway, this could be his way of repaying me for the bracelet.

Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and examined it through my sleeve.

“You’re too weak. Your arm is just like a girl’s. How is a tiny boy like you going to survive in a place like this?” he said, still studying my arm.

I quickly shoved him off and stepped back.

“That’s none of your business!!” I snapped and walked away.

Oh moon goddess, they’re starting to suspect I’m a girl. What should I do? Should I apply more brown powder so I look more manly? Or maybe I need to grow muscles—but I’m too lazy to work out. I have to be more vigilant so no one finds out.

I headed toward the main hall where an elderly man, probably in his 50s, stood in front of us wearing a scholar's robe. His robe was royal-colored, which meant he was likely an instructor. There were already several students seated.

I was prepared. I knew there was going to be an entrance exam. I’m a pretty smart student, and clearing this should be easy—just peanuts.

I took the front seat, and as time passed, the hall filled with more students. I noticed those rude guys entering like a gang. I looked at them with an annoyed expression.

The head of their group made a throat-slitting gesture toward me. Was that supposed to threaten me?

Just ignore him, Pearl. They’re not important. Clearing the entrance exam is.

The room fell silent as an elderly man with sharp eyes and a long grey beard stepped forward. His royal blue scholar’s robe fluttered slightly with each movement, commanding everyone’s attention.

“Today’s entrance examination,” he began, “will not be written.”

A few students gasped, including me.

“It will be oral,” he continued, scanning the hall. “We’ll call names randomly. Each candidate must answer three questions—on logic, language, and history. Fail to answer, and you’re out. We don’t need pretty faces, we need sharp minds.”

I sank a little in my seat. Oral? That was not part of the plan. My mind began racing with every book I’d read, every tutor’s lesson. Okay, Pearl—no, Perin—just breathe.

The instructor unrolled a scroll and began calling names. A few boys strutted confidently forward, others fumbled and returned to their seats with shame written all over their faces.

“Perin Dale.”

Moon goddess, no. Why me so early?

I stood, adjusted my robe, and walked to the center where all eyes burned into my back. Those bully guys chuckled under their breath. “Pretty boy’s gonna cry,” one whispered. I chose to ignore them, even though I imagined strangling him with a scroll.

The instructor didn’t smile. “First question—Logic. A merchant sells 30 meters of cloth and gains the cost price of 10 meters. What is the profit percent?”

I swallowed. “Fifty percent, sir.”

His brow lifted. “Correct.”

The bullies behind me went quiet.

“Second—Language. Translate this phrase from ancient script: ‘Strength is forged in silence, not in speech.’”

I narrowed my eyes, reading the carved stone plaque on the hall wall where I’d seen that line before. “Strength is forged in silence, not in speech,” I repeated in the common tongue. “The silent forge builds the sharpest sword.”

He gave a tiny nod.

Okay, Pearl. You’re still alive.

“Last question—History. Name the three noble houses that supported the rebellion of the Eastern Province a decade ago.”

Oh no. Politics. Not my strength.

I paused, fingers twitching. “The House of Talin… the Red Crest of Bellan… and…” My mind went blank.

“Last one,” the instructor said, voice low.

Think Pearl, think. “And the Emerald Flame… the House of Ruvan.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then gave the tiniest tilt of his head.

“You may sit.”

I exhaled hard and walked back, trying to keep my steps steady. The noble boy—the one who took my bracelet—was watching me again, arms folded and something like a smile in his eyes. Ugh. What is he even smiling at?

As I sat, the gang leader caught my eye and slowly clapped with sarcasm. “Impressive,” he mouthed.

Great. Now I was on more radars than ever.

Moon goddess help me, I just wanted to blend in—not stand out.

As I returned to my seat, still catching my breath, the scroll was rolled further by the instructor.

“Next—Rowan Velhart.”

All heads turned.

Oh Moon Goddess.

It was him.

The same noble who took my bracelet. The same one who had that ridiculous, arrogant smirk planted on his lips. He stood up slowly, stretching like this was a lazy afternoon stroll and not a high-stakes exam. His long coat swept behind him, and he walked forward like the floor was built to hold only his footsteps.

Someone behind me whispered, “He’s from the royal academy branch…”

No wonder.

He stopped at the center, hands behind his back, eyes sharp and annoyingly confident.

The instructor didn’t hold back.

“Logic: Two scholars are sent on a journey. One takes the mountain path that is 10 leagues longer but half a day shorter. Why is it shorter?”

Rowan didn’t even blink. “Because the mountain path is a trade route—paved and secure. The other is forest—rough and unguarded. Travel time isn’t about distance, it’s about risk.”

A low murmur of approval rippled in the hall.

“Language: Translate ‘Veritas Custos Lux’.”

He tilted his head lazily. “Truth guards the light.”

He even made it sound poetic.

The instructor gave a single approving nod.

“History: During the War of Broken Chains, which commander led the ambush at Darlan River, and what tactic was used?”

I watched as his jaw tightened slightly—finally, something challenging?

He looked down, then back up. “Commander Halric of the Southern Wolves. He used a ‘Scorched Path’—burned his own supply wagons to make it seem like retreat, drawing the enemy into the gorge. Then crushed them.”

Dead silence. Even the bullies weren’t laughing now.

“You may sit,” the instructor said.

Rowan turned and walked past me, his eyes briefly locking with mine—amused and irritatingly smug.

He leaned in as he passed and whispered, “Peanuts, wasn’t it?”

I wanted to kick his shin.

But... damn it, he was brilliant.