I took deep, quiet breaths to calm myself down. My current situation was familiar to me...because I’d played it in the game. This scene happened near the end of a playthrough, where the MC has a little more wine than she bargained for; it was also when the villainess gets her comeuppance. My engagement to the prince was about to be revoked.
The eyes of the finely dressed nobles were pried from their chatting and dancing and glued to me, some alight with curiosity and some with pity. More than anything, though, those eyes were brimming with the desperate desire to have nothing to do with us.
Prince Ignacia sighed loudly and proudly before meeting my eyes. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have entertained this engagement for as long as I have,” he said quietly without a hint of warmth in his voice. Every kind look and word of the prince’s had been directed at Emilia tonight. He saw me as nothing more than an obstacle in his story of true love.
But what did I ever do to you? I wanted to demand. Before the memories of my previous life had come back to me, Charlotte Cocoriara had lived her life with grace and restraint unbecoming of an alleged villainess.
✦ ✦ ✦
The Cocoriaras seldom partook in the politicking of high society’s rival factions but maintained a friendship with the royal family. When Charlotte turned seven, she was engaged to Prince Ignacia to prevent the scales of power from tipping in favor of any particular faction of nobles. Overall, her family gave the prince no reason to despise Charlotte.
On the other hand, it was true that they trained Charlotte so relentlessly in preparation for her royal marriage that she almost never had time for enjoyment. Her days were marked by strings of tutors who taught her everything from proper etiquette and political customs to policies and even notable exports of foreign nations to aid in diplomacy. She had to mind her table manners at every meal, and her lady-in-waiting insisted on bathing her each night. Not until she was tucked into her bed alone could Charlotte have a moment to herself.
“I’m so tired...” Charlotte, seven years old, muttered to herself as she climbed into bed, relaxing her muscles for the first time that day. Studying, no matter the subject, always made her tense up. “But I think I can finish my book.” She was alone in her bedroom now, her lady-in-waiting having retired for the night.
She retrieved a picture book from the shelf and sat back on her bed. From the cover and the story so far, she had guessed that the hero would have to fight the dragon to rescue the princess. “Where was I...? ‘The hero crept up to the dragon and found the beast fast asleep.’ Wait... The dragon’s asleep? Well, you have to sleep when you’re tired.” This very tired lady, however, continued reading her book, forcing her eyes to stay open. “‘But just as the hero tried to pass the dragon, it woke up.’ Oh, no! ‘The hero and the dragon fought for a long time, until they called it a tie. Then the dragon told the hero that it only wanted to sleep peacefully and asked him not to disturb its bedchamber. The hero promised to let the dragon sleep and successfully rescued the princess.’ Thank goodness the princess and the dragon are all right!”
Charlotte collapsed upon her covers from the sense of accomplishment and relief that she had earned from finishing the story. Now she felt like she would dream of happy things. She held the book tight in her arms. “If a dragon ever kidnapped me...would Prince Ignacia come and rescue me?” she wondered.
Soon, she drifted off to sleep, her day coming to a close much like the rest of her days would over the next decade.
What a grueling childhood. Just thinking about the flashback I’d played through in the game made me want to cry. Charlotte was so busy training to be the perfect princess that she had no time to be a villainess. If memories of my life on Earth had come back to me during those times, I would have run away from home and left everything behind without a second thought.
Charlotte conducted herself properly in social situations but had never grown close enough to anyone to call them a friend. Compared to the life I’d lived in Japan, Charlotte’s was lonesome and suffocating. She’d never learned the meaning of fun. Her family was kind to her, but her engagement to the crown prince weighed heavier on her shoulders than anyone suspected. It wasn’t her fault that smiling never came naturally to her.
If only Ignacia understood her. He’s too self-centered to put himself in her shoes, though. I couldn’t help but imagine that if Ignacia ever inherited the crown, Farblume would crumble to the ground.
Still, Charlotte’s life wasn’t entirely miserable. There was one particular young lady whom Charlotte almost dared to call a friend. She understood that just because Charlotte didn’t show her emotions, it didn’t mean she didn’t feel them. What an angel, I reminisced.
The truth was, Charlotte was made out to be a villainess solely because she was engaged to the prince. She was the “other woman” in someone else’s love story.