Reborn as a Hated Noble Family, We Start an Industrial Revolution-Chapter 67: Tea Invitations & The Stamp Disaster

Chapter 67: Chapter 67: Tea Invitations & The Stamp Disaster

Royal Boys’ Dormitory – Prince Caelus’s Private Suite. Morning – T-Minus 1 Day to the Summer Festival.

The suite was vast, larger than the combined floor space of three commoner homes. The floors were covered in plush crimson velvet carpets, and the walls were adorned with grandiose oil paintings of royal hunts and ancient conquests. However, this morning, the room looked less like a prince’s sanctuary and more like a paper-processing plant that had suffered a catastrophic explosion.

Dozens of crumpled parchment balls lay scattered across the floor like discarded white stones.

Prince Caelus sat at his mahogany writing desk, his usually impeccably styled blonde hair now a mess as he gripped his head in frustration. His face was a vibrant shade of crimson. He clutched a traditional goose-quill pen with a hand that shook from a mixture of exhaustion and anxiety. In an era where the Sudraths were introducing smooth-flowing ballpoint pens, Caelus’s insistence on using "noble" quills was only adding to his misery as the ink blotted repeatedly.

"Dammit!" Caelus cursed, his voice cracking. "Why is it harder to write a simple letter to one girl than it is to draft a military decree?!"

He tried to focus, dipping the quill into the silver inkwell once more.

To the Beautiful Lady Raveena...

"ARGH! Too cheap! Too desperate!" Caelus roared, crumpling the paper and tossing it over his shoulder without looking. It joined the mountain of failures behind him.

He pulled a fresh sheet of high-grade vellum.

To the Subordinate Raphael, your sister is hereby summoned to appear before...

"NO! She’ll think I’m trying to punish him again! Riven will probably find out, fly here on a dragon, and snap my neck like a dry twig!"

Caelus let out a long, ragged sigh, leaning back so far his chair groaned. Ever since the incidents in the canteen, the training grounds, and the rose garden, the shadow of Raveena Sudrath had been haunting his every waking moment. It wasn’t the shadow of an enemy anymore. It was the memory of the only person who had ever dared to defend him through subtle logic and offer him a smile that didn’t feel like it was calculated for political gain.

He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her. But his pride as the Seventh Prince was a towering fortress that forbade him from saying the words "I miss you."

He needed an excuse. A logical, political, and entirely "professional" reason that wouldn’t make him look like a lovestruck fool.

Suddenly, a sharp knock sounded at the door. His head aide entered, looking harried.

"Your Highness, we have a crisis. The preparations for the Summer Festival have hit a major bottleneck. The Head of Logistics—Young Master Raphael—has frozen all equipment releases. He’s refusing to let anything out of the warehouse."

Caelus’s eyes lit up with a sudden, predatory brilliance.

"That’s it!"

Caelus grabbed a new piece of parchment and began writing with a speed that bordered on manic.

To Lady Raveena Sudrath (Representative of the Magic Wing Dormitory),

I am formally inviting you to a Strategic Consultation regarding the logistical obstructions caused by your brother. Your presence is required at the Rose Gazebo at 15:00 hours today. This is a matter of administrative necessity and a direct royal request.

— Prince Caelus.

"Perfect," Caelus murmured, a satisfied smirk returning to his face. "It looks firm, authoritative, and strictly business. But the end result is the same: she has to meet me."

He handed the letter to the aide. "Deliver this to the Girls’ Dormitory immediately. And listen—prepare the finest imported Earl Grey tea. And macarons. Get the pink ones. The expensive ones from the southern bakeries. Go! Now!"

The Main Logistics Warehouse – Rear Academy Grounds. Midday.

While Caelus was busy preening in front of a mirror, a different kind of war was being waged at the warehouse.

Raphael Sudrath sat behind a rickety wooden desk positioned strategically in front of the massive warehouse doors. Beside him, stacks of documents towered so high they nearly obscured his view. He wore a pair of clear-lens glasses—a purely aesthetic choice to make him look more "bureaucratic"—and held a heavy red-inked stamp in his hand like a weapon of mass destruction.

In front of him, a queue of senior students—all members of the festival committee and Caelus’s subordinates—stretched across the courtyard. They looked frustrated, sweaty, and on the verge of emotional collapse.

"P-Please, Master Raphael," a third-year senior pleaded, dabbing sweat from his brow. "We need that Magitech Sound System now. The Prince wants to conduct a sound check at four o’clock. We’ve already missed two deadlines."

Raphael stared at the form the senior had presented. He picked it up with two fingers, reading it with agonizing slowness, his eyes trailing over every single line of text.

"Hmm," Raphael hummed, his tone flat and professional. "Form for the Requisition of High-Value Assets. Type B-4."

"Yes! Exactly! It’s signed by the Committee Chair!"

Raphael shook his head slowly, his face a mask of manufactured regret.

"Ah, I’m afraid I have bad news, Senior. A new regulation from the School Board—personally ratified by Prince Caelus himself this morning—states that for all electronic equipment manufactured by Sudrath Tech, one must use Form C-12, not B-4. B-4 is for furniture and basic linens."

"What?! When was that regulation passed?!"

"Just three hours ago," Raphael pointed to Vance, who was currently busy pinning a new announcement to the wall. The ink was still visibly wet. "We are simply following procedure, Senior. We wouldn’t want these expensive speakers to be damaged and have the blame fall on our department, would we?"

"But the Prince needs them now!"

"I understand your urgency," Raphael offered a polite, shark-like smile. "Please go back and fill out Form C-12. Oh, and don’t forget to attach a ’Dragon-Embossed Duty Stamp’ and obtain the signature of your department head. The signature must be in blue ink. Black ink will render the document void."

"DUTY STAMP?! What is that?! And the teachers are all in a staff meeting!" The senior gripped his hair in despair.

"Well, that is quite out of my hands. Next!" Raphael slammed his desk-gavel.

In the corner of the room, Lily—Raphael’s resident spy—was muffled by a crate, giggling uncontrollably.

"Boss, you’re a demon," Lily whispered. "What even is a ’Dragon-Embossed Duty Stamp’? I’ve never heard of such a thing in this kingdom."

"It’s a holographic dragon sticker I bought from a toy shop in the city yesterday," Raphael whispered back, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Let them run around the city looking for it. Let Caelus feel the weight of the red tape he tried to use on us."

Suddenly, the warehouse doors opened, and Raveena walked in. She was holding a gold-embossed envelope in her hand, looking both confused and slightly amused.

"Raphael," Raveena called.

Raphael looked up, his bureaucratic mask melting. "Ah, my favorite sister. Do you need to requisition a high-speed flying broom? You’ll need Form D-9 for that."

"Funny," Raveena dryly replied, showing him the letter. "Prince Caelus has invited me for tea again. Apparently, he wants to discuss the ’logistical hurdles’ you’ve been creating."

Raphael read the letter and burst into a fit of laughter.

"Hahaha! ’Administrative Necessity’? ’Direct Royal Request’? This guy is a walking encyclopedia of bad pickup lines."

Raphael looked at his sister, his expression turning curious. "So, Sis, are you actually going?"

"Do I have a choice? If I don’t go, he’ll just make your life harder, won’t he?" Raveena sighed, smoothing her navy-blue cloak. "I am sacrificing my afternoon nap for you, Raph. Remember that when you’re counting your ’Duty Stamps’."

Raphael stood up and reached over the desk to straighten his sister’s collar.

"Don’t worry, Sis. I’ve already ’set the stage.’ The Prince won’t dare try anything funny. Just play along for an hour."

"What do you mean by ’set the stage’?"

"You’ll see," Raphael winked. "Enjoy your ’Strategic Consultation,’ dear sister."

"It’s not a date!" Raveena swiped at her brother’s arm and walked out, her face a bit pouted, though a faint hint of pink touched her cheeks.

The Royal Rose Garden – 15:00 PM.

The white marble gazebo stood like a pristine jewel in the center of a sea of blooming red roses. The late afternoon breeze was cool, carrying the heavy, sweet scent of the flowers.

Prince Caelus was already there. He wore a tailored white silk suit that made him look undeniably handsome—a fact he was well aware of. But his legs wouldn’t stay still. Tap-tap-tap.

He checked his pocket watch every thirty seconds.

"Will she show up? Was the letter too harsh? What if she thinks I’m angry?" Caelus muttered to himself, his royal composure fraying at the edges.

Suddenly, a figure in a blue cloak appeared on the garden path.

Raveena.

She hadn’t bothered with elaborate makeup or a gown. She wore her standard academy uniform, her long black hair flowing freely, and she carried a thick, leather-bound book in her arms. Simple. Yet to Caelus, the effect was like watching a goddess descend from the heavens.

Caelus immediately straightened his posture, wiping all emotion from his face and adopting his "Arrogant Prince" mask.

"Greetings, Your Highness," Raveena performed a perfect, albeit brief, curtsy as she reached the gazebo.

"Ah, Lady Raveena," Caelus said, deepening his voice to sound more mature. "You are punctual. Good. Discipline is the mark of a proper noble."

"I am merely complying with a ’Direct Royal Request,’ Your Highness," Raveena replied, her voice laced with a subtle, playful sarcasm.

Caelus nearly choked on his own saliva. "Ahem. Please, sit."

Raveena took the seat opposite him. A servant immediately began pouring the tea—the expensive Earl Grey he had requested.

The atmosphere was thick with a heavy, awkward silence. Caelus wanted to say, ’You look stunning even in a school uniform,’ but his tongue felt like lead. His pride acted as a muzzle, preventing the words from leaving his mouth.

"So," Raveena broke the silence, taking a delicate sip of her tea. "What logistical hurdles did you wish to discuss? My brother insists he is merely following the latest safety protocols."

"Ah... that..." Caelus panicked. He had completely forgotten the talking points he had rehearsed. "Your brother... he’s being impossible! He’s demanding dragon-themed stickers for a microphone release! Where on earth did he find such a ridiculous regulation?!"

Raveena stifled a laugh, knowing full well it was Raphael’s retaliation.

"Perhaps Raphael is simply ensuring the security of the school’s assets, Your Highness. He is the Head of Maintenance, after all. He is... very thorough."

"Thorough? He’s infuriating! He’s exactly like that barbarian brother of yours!" Caelus exclaimed.

Raveena set her cup down with a sharp clack. Her gaze turned cold.

"Your Highness, if you invited me here simply to insult my family, then I believe this consultation is over. I shall take my leave."

Raveena began to stand up.

"Wait!" Caelus lunged forward, his hand instinctively catching Raveena’s arm. He let go almost instantly, realizing the breach of etiquette—and fearing a telepathic punch from Riven.

"Please, stay! I mean... the tea hasn’t even cooled yet. It’s a waste to leave now. This tea was imported at great expense."

Raveena looked at Caelus. She saw the genuine panic in his blue eyes. Beneath the layers of gold and title, this Prince was just a lonely boy who didn’t know how to talk to people without using commands or insults.

Raveena sat back down. "Fine. For the sake of the expensive tea."

Silence returned.

Caelus scrambled for a topic. Think, Caelus! Anything but politics! Compliment her!

"You..." Caelus pointed at the thick book Raveena had placed on the table. "You enjoy reading?"

Raveena smiled faintly. "This is ’Theories on Quantum Mana Dynamics.’ My brother Rianor wrote it. I’m studying his compression formulas."

"Oh. That sounds... incredibly boring," Caelus said, immediately regretting his words. "Why not read a romance novel? Or a fashion journal? Most girls your age are obsessed with the latest capital trends."

Raveena stared at him with a flat expression. "Because I am not ’most girls,’ Your Highness. I am a Sudrath. We find more joy in understanding how to deconstruct the world than in stitching dresses."

Caelus went quiet. Then, slowly, a genuine smile broke across his face. It wasn’t the practiced, political smile he wore for the public. It was real.

"I suppose that’s true. You are... different."

"My older brother, Prince Cedric, once told me your family was a collection of ill-mannered freaks," Caelus said suddenly. "He’s the one who rejected your sister, Rhea, isn’t he?"

"He did," Raveena replied casually. "And Sister Rhea is eternally grateful for it. She said Prince Cedric was ’too heavily perfumed’ to ever be useful in a monster hunt."

Caelus erupted into a fit of genuine, belly-shaking laughter. "Hahaha! Gods, that’s accurate! Cedric is a walking perfume shop! He’s terrified of dirt!"

The laughter broke the tension. Raveena found herself smiling back. It turned out the arrogant Prince could actually laugh like a normal human being.

"Raveena," Caelus said softly after his laughter subsided. His face was slightly flushed.

"Yes?"

Caelus turned his gaze toward the roses, pretending to be fascinated by a petal. "About the incident in the canteen... and at the grounds..."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"...I didn’t mean to actually hurt you. I mean, your brother was the one who provoked me! But... well... I apologize if I caused you any distress."

Raveena was stunned. A Prince of the realm was apologizing? Even if it was wrapped in a Tsundere package of blaming others first, it was still a sincere apology.

"Your Highness," Raveena said softly. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"What?" Caelus looked back, his expression still a bit sour.

"Your collar button has come loose."

"What?" Caelus looked down. Sure enough, the top button of his expensive silk tunic had popped its thread—likely due to the frantic pace he’d been writing those letters earlier. For a Prince, an unkempt appearance was a public disgrace.

"Dammit! Servants! Fetch a needle!" Caelus shouted in a panic.

"Here, let me help," Raveena said, producing her Magitech staff.

She aimed the metal rod at Caelus’s collar.

"What are you doing?! Don’t blow me up!" Caelus recoiled in terror.

"Stay still," Raveena commanded.

ZING.

A tiny, precise beam of blue light emitted from the tip of the staff. It wasn’t a destructive laser, but a specialized spell for molecular bonding—a form of magical instant-glue Rianor had developed for quick repairs.

The button fused back onto the fabric with perfect precision in less than a second.

"There," Raveena said, leaning back. "It’s stronger than thread now."

Caelus touched the button. It was firm. Perfectly aligned.

He looked at Raveena. Their faces were quite close. He could see the tiny flecks of brown in her deep crimson eyes. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.

Caelus’s face turned as red as the roses behind him. "Y-You... you didn’t need to do that! I have people for such menial tasks!"

"Your people are slow," Raveena said, gathering her book. She stood up. "Thank you for the tea, Your Highness. I must return to help Raphael. The poor boy is buried under a mountain of bureaucracy that ’someone’ apparently ordered."

Raveena offered a mischievous, knowing smile, performed a respectful curtsy, and walked away.

Caelus sat frozen in the gazebo, his fingers still clutching the newly repaired button. His chest felt like it was about to explode.

"Dammit..." Caelus muttered, covering his face with his hands. "She can use magic... she’s brilliant... she’s fierce... and she fixed my clothes..."

Caelus looked toward his aide, who was hiding in the nearby bushes.

"Oi!"

"Y-Yes, Your Highness?"

"Tell Raphael..." Caelus gritted his teeth, his pride still putting up a fight. "...Tell him that Form C-12 is abolished! Give him a master-seal for every piece of equipment he needs! NOW!"

"But Your Highness... you said we were supposed to make things difficult—"

"JUST DO IT, YOU IDIOT! Before she tells her brother I’m bullying him again!"

The aide scrambled away as fast as his legs could carry him.

Caelus sat back down, staring at Raveena’s empty teacup. He was smiling like a madman. "Raveena Sudrath... just you wait. I will make you like me. Not because I’m a Prince, but because..."

Caelus struggled to find the right words.

"...Because I am the one who will conquer your heart."

(Unbeknownst to him, he was the one who had already been conquered.)

Back at the warehouse, Raphael received the ’Universal Clearance’ seal from the Prince’s aide. He simply shook his head, a cunning grin spreading across his face.

"My sister is truly terrifying. With just a cup of tea and a smile, she made the entire Bureaucracy of Hell crumble."

"Alright, team!" Raphael shouted to Vance and Lily. "The Prince has surrendered. Release the Sound System! We’re going to make this festival legendary!"