Chapter 3

I thought my probation would last forever, but it ended sooner than I expected. “An invitation from the Imperial Palace?” “Yes, Miss. The young lord has asked that you get ready.” “The young l— I mean, my eldest brother did?” I asked, cutting myself off before I could call him by his formal title in front of a servant. I was the youngest sibling of House Eckhart, adopted or not. It was probably best the other members of the household didn’t notice anything weird was going on. Really, though. What a surprise from Derrick. Though he hadn’t said it in so many words, this was effectively him putting an end to my confinement. “Here’s the letter, Miss,” Emily said, holding it out with both hands in a display of politeness. The name Penelope was written clearly on the stiff paper, which was embossed with the symbol of the Imperial House: a golden dragon. The invitation was for the second prince’s birthday celebration, set to take place the following day. “Guess I’d better prepare myself…,” I muttered. I was actually a little disappointed that my period of isolation had come to an end so soon. It had been nice simply enjoying Emily’s attentive care, while having a legit reason to avoid both of my brothers. If I was now allowed to leave my room, the game’s plot would inevitably draw me into encounters with Derrick and Reynold… Hold on a second. As I was worrying about my problems inside the manor, a thought suddenly crystallized, causing me to freeze. If I’m going to the palace…that means I might run into the crown prince! No, not might—it was all but certain. Though there had been no actual cutscene showing Penelope going to the palace in the game, the birthday banquet marked the beginning of the crown prince’s storyline. It was the first episode he appeared in. As the various illustrations featuring Penelope’s beheading at the crown prince’s behest materialized in my mind’s eye, I couldn’t help the scream that left my lips. “Nooo!” “M-Miss?!” Emily gasped, startled. I can’t go. Should I say I’m sick? Finding a reason to play hooky was the only way I could avoid the lunatic. My maid seemed morose, probably thinking she’d done something wrong. I hurriedly asked, “Emily. Did Father happen to say he’ll be joining us tomorrow?” “He has other matters to attend to, so the young lord will be escorting you there instead.” Shit. I’m royally screwed… I despaired. If I wanted to beg off the celebration, I’d have to convince Derrick, not the duke. And there was no way of knowing how that would impact his affection. If it had been Reynold, I might’ve taken the gamble. I considered his affection, newly escaped from the negatives, and sighed. I didn’t dare risk Derrick’s reaction. Maintaining 0 percent was hard enough as it was. “U-um, Miss? Are you all right? You look a bit pale…,” Emily hedged cautiously, seeing the glum look on my face. “I need to think. Please leave,” I said, waving her away distractedly. “Haah…” I sighed heavily as soon as the door clicked shut behind her. I die if I do, and I die if I don’t… Shitty rigged game. I was already missing the days spent locked in my room, which seemed heavenly in comparison to this mess. “Maybe I can just avoid him like the plague?” I tried to dredge up what I could about the game event, but nothing came to me. While playing Hard Mode, I’d met the crown prince in a garden maze at the palace, and he’d killed me before we could even have a proper conversation. It had happened over and over and over again; I swore I was hitting the reset button every five seconds. “I guess I should try to say I’m too sick to go…” Ah. That was when I was struck with an idea. “Why don’t I try dying?” I wondered aloud. It seemed reasonable. If I’m no longer alive here, maybe I’ll wake up in the real world. After all, a game over was a game over, right? Better to give up now than grind toward a happy ending with one of these hopeless men. Besides, the game should have a reset button. Just the idea of it was thrilling. Unlike with the user interface in the actual game, I couldn’t see any buttons that would allow me to access the settings or go back. The only thing available to me now was the white box with dialogue choices. But there had been the screen that popped up to turn those prompts off. Who was to say there wasn’t a reset button, too? “Why didn’t I think of this sooner?” As long as there was a reset button, there was no harm in trying. “All right. Let’s go meet the crown prince and let him kill me!” The maids woke me up earlier than usual, and the extra hours were spent making me presentable. I bathed in milky water mixed with scented oils and received a massage and face mask treatment. And then they’d repeat, starting this boring procedure over multiple times. By the time I finally escaped the bathroom and sat in front of the dressing table, I was already drained of energy. Things were only getting started, though. “How about this gown, Miss? It’s a new one you bought and never wore!” “What about these earrings? I think they would look lovely with that dress.” “Hair up? No, a half-up, half-down style might be better… What do you suggest, Miss?” “How should we do the makeup…?” The maids’ chattering was endless. Weren’t they all supposed to hate Penelope?! They were so excited, you would’ve thought they were the ones going to the party, not me. Turning, I looked at myself in the mirror. The multiple face masks and baths seemed to have done the job, at least. My skin was glowing. I suppose it would be fun to play dress-up with a face this beautiful. Understanding the maids’ reactions a little better, I nodded and said, “Bring me a different dress, something that comes all the way up the neck. As for the accessories, the fewer, the better. Beyond that, I don’t really care.” “What?!” The maids looked at me in horror. One of them hastily added, “But, Miss, the party is being held at the Imperial Palace…” She trailed off, but her meaning was clear: I should look my absolute best. The red dress with a low-cut neckline they’d originally brought me complemented Penelope’s dark-pink hair. The accessories matched perfectly; they would only highlight and enhance her beauty. But I wasn’t heading to the palace to parade around like a peacock, showing off my good looks. I couldn’t exactly tell them I was going there to die, though, so I opted to respond as Penelope might have. “Just do as I asked. Nothing elaborate,” I said coldly. The maids looked put out but protested no further, retreating to the dressing room. They brought back three outfit options, all subdued and modest unlike the previous dress. “This one,” I said, selecting a dark-green evening dress. It covered even my collarbones completely, and the dark color wouldn’t make me stand out. After changing into the piece, I made sure the maids kept the makeup light. I chose to wear only a pair of earrings—tiny emerald stones that matched the color of Penelope’s eyes. Once fully dolled up, I checked my reflection in the mirror and found an austere girl who could’ve been heading to a church service staring back at me. This should keep me from attracting any attention. The maids looked about as disappointed as I was satisfied. “Everyone leave except Emily,” I said, sending them all away. I had an extra request for my personal maid. “Emily. Would you fetch me some gloves the same color as my dress?” It would be the finishing touch on the pious look. “You’re…going to wear gloves, too, Miss?” Emily seemed hesitant, as if she were unwilling to concede on this last point. “Of course. I can’t have anyone seeing these, can I?” I reminded her in a pointed tone, raising the hand I’d pierced with the needle a few days ago. The scabs had healed over, and the needle marks had almost faded to nothing. Still, there was no telling what eagle-eyed individuals might be present at the banquet. Unsurprisingly, Emily blanched at the marks. “Come on, gloves,” I said again, impatient. “Y-yes!” She hurried away, and I clicked my tongue. Can’t have her thinking she’s won my trust just because she’s served me well recently. I need to keep her on her toes. Once I’d slipped the gloves on, the look was complete. I was finally ready to go to the palace. Derrick was already at the front gate, waiting for me. Upon my arrival, he scanned my appearance, a look of shock crossing his face. “It seems your punishment has taught you something about being a proper lady,” he snarked. First time we talk in days, and he’s giving me attitude? I had no time to be angry at him, though, the glowing letters above his head grabbing my attention. [Affection: 5%] Huh? When did that go up? Derrick’s affection had risen without my knowing. A whole 5 percent, at that! Frankly, I was nonplussed. How much did he hate Penelope for his affection to rise after only a few days apart? I should’ve tried playing sick, after all, I thought, lamenting that I hadn’t known about this beforehand. It was too late, though. A fancy carriage engraved with the Eckhart coat of arms was already parked at the gate. Nodding to Derrick, I held out a hand to the knight standing nearby, since the step up into the carriage was higher than I’d expected. Too busy gathering up the folds of my dress, I failed to take note of what Derrick was doing until I settled in my seat and turned. Derrick was holding out his hand to no one in particular, staring at me with a stiff expression. Why is he acting weird? I wondered. We needed to leave soon if we wanted to make it on time. What’s he waiting for? He has to get in his own carriage. I sat there, expecting the door to shut…only for Derrick to suddenly step up, joining me in the carriage. Wh-what? Why is he coming in?! I racked my brain, trying to quickly figure out if I’d done something to make him angry, but nothing came to mind. We’d just met and exchanged greetings, nothing more. And yet there Derrick was, sitting himself directly across from me. I was so confused that I couldn’t help blurting out, “Y-you’re riding with me?” Derrick frowned at this. “Is that a problem?” “N-no, of course not.” What is he doing? He never did anything like this in the game! I shook my head frantically to prevent myself from saying anything else. But a scowl had already found its way to Derrick’s face. “If you’re so bothered, you may get down and find yourself another,” he said, his voice filled with ice. I glanced at the door, seriously considering the suggestion. He’d already closed it on his way in, though, and it would be silly to open it again and get out. “I’m not…bothered,” I said, turning back to Derrick and forcing myself to say my next words. “Just…pleased?” Glancing up through my eyelashes, I cautiously studied his reaction. His glare melted into a blank gaze, and eventually he turned away from me altogether. You obviously hate it. Why are you making both of us uncomfortable? Was this a new way of picking on me? I was affronted by his cold behavior, but a glance at the text above his head calmed me somewhat. [Affection: 6%] It had risen by 1 percent. I stared, surprised, and the carriage lurched forward. All right. It’s just one little carriage ride. Should be no biggie. I had an affection of 6 percent to fall back on now, after all. It was hardly likely that all 6 percent would vanish in the short time it took for us to travel to the palace, wasn’t it? Better just make the best of the situation. It didn’t take long for my positive attitude to dissolve into regret. I was wrong! I’m dying here! Somebody save me! My patience was tested to the very limit as we moved toward the palace. I could only appreciate the view in front of me—the cold but handsome man sitting with his legs and arms crossed and an aloof look on his face—for so long when the silence between us was suffocating. I twitched, wondering if I should open the window, but Derrick’s stare landed on me the moment I moved, forcing me to sit still. If I so much as fidgeted in discomfort, his eyes would flash open, and he’d pin his ghostly blue glare on me. Dammit, why are you looking at me like that? I kept glancing at the [Affection: 6%] above his head and sweating. When the carriage finally pulled up to our destination, I couldn’t help letting out a little cheer internally. After not being able to move a muscle for most of the ride, I was finally about to escape the oppressive silence. The first thing I’m going to do once I open that door is take a deep breath of nice, fresh air. However, as soon as our vehicle rolled to a stop, Derrick jumped up and off, beating me out the door. “Here,” he said, holding out his hand. I had already gathered the billowy folds of my dress, prepared to step down on my own. What’s gotten into him? I stared at him in a daze, my eyes wide. Is he trying to help me down? He frowned slightly at my hesitation. “Well? Are you coming or not?” Realizing I’d frozen, I looked around me and noticed that the other nobles who were arriving were all staring at us. “Thank you.” I quickly took his hand and stepped off the carriage. I continued to hold on to his arm as we climbed up the white steps to the ballroom. “Announcing Young Lord Derrick Eckhart and Lady Penelope Eckhart of the ducal house!” An attendant heralded our arrival. As the ballroom’s massive doors slowly opened before us, I heard Derrick’s cold voice in my ear. “Don’t do anything stupid. I trust you haven’t forgotten that your probation was lifted only yesterday?” “…” “If you cause another ruckus, being confined to your room will be but the start of your punishment.” The swell of excitement that had been coming up on me crashed back down in an instant at Derrick’s quiet threat. I felt the urge to retaliate but bit my tongue. “Yes. I’ll be careful,” I said meekly, forcing an appeasing smile onto my face. Derrick turned away without a word. Tch. I pouted while he wasn’t looking. Palace parties were very proper. So, in other words, terribly dull. As soon as we were in the thick of it, Derrick abandoned me and busied himself with greeting the many people who approached him. Not a single person came up to me; evidently, Penelope’s notorious reputation preceded me. Looking around, I could see other noble ladies my age moving about in clusters, dancing and whispering in one another’s ears. In comparison, I was like an island, no one coming within a certain distance of me. I moved to a secluded corner as I watched the proceedings. I am not lonely. And I’m definitely not attempting to console myself. Really. I came here with a clear objective, and if all went well, there was a chance I could get out of this shitty game once and for all… Ugh! When is that damn crown prince getting here?! I internally grumbled about the absence of the man necessary to my plan. As the ball progressed, more and more people began glancing in my direction and murmuring, as they no doubt noticed how unusually subdued I was. Just as I was starting to think I couldn’t keep standing around awkwardly much longer, an attendant shouted, “Announcing Her Majesty the empress consort and His Highness the second prince!” Here we go. The game’s storyline was finally starting to unfold. The guests ceased their chatter and bowed deeply, facing the entrance. Noticing this, I gave a cautious curtsy as well. The empress consort—wife to the emperor—and the second prince looked every bit the haughty Imperial family members they were as they strode down the red carpet lining the center of the room. Their blond hair—said to signify Imperial blood—shone under the lights. They crossed the ballroom and, at the other end, climbed the stairs to the high platform reserved for them. I watched with bated breath and was shocked to see where the second prince sat. Isn’t that the crown prince’s throne? The second prince had taken the tallest seat at the center of the dais, a golden throne circled by a fancy and equally golden dragon. It was the seat of the emperor, technically, but the emperor himself basically never showed up in the game, and the crown prince always sat on the throne in his place. So why is the second prince sitting there? I was puzzled by how calm the two royals appeared despite the second prince having done something so out of the ordinary. Was there a tradition that allowed members of the Imperial family to sit on the throne on their birthdays or something? “Everyone, rise,” the second prince ordered solemnly after he’d settled. Accordingly, all the nobles in the ballroom rose from their bows and curtsies in a noisy bustle. “I thank you all for making time to attend my birthday ball. It is a most humble affair, but I hope you’ll enjoy yourselves nonetheless.” The prince’s brief speech marked the beginning of the celebration in earnest—or rather, it should’ve, until the end of it was suddenly interrupted. Bang! Along with the slamming of a door, there was some kind of commotion at the ballroom entrance. “Huh?” “Wh-what’s going on?” The nobility murmured among themselves as they turned to face the source of the noise. Someone was advancing through the parting crowd, their footsteps ricocheting piercingly through the room. Their approach was accompanied by the unsettling sound of something heavy being dragged along the ground. “I-it’s the crown prince!” someone shouted, sending a jolt of shock down my spine. I immediately turned to search for him in the crowd. His hair was instantly noticeable, elegant waves that looked as if they’d been spun from pure gold. I’d been mistaken earlier. The empress consort’s and second prince’s hair, their royal looks? A faint glow in comparison. With his crimson cloak streaming behind him, this man with golden locks was the epitome of beauty, shining bright enough to blind. “W-wait… Is he dragging a person?” “Eek! Th-that’s…” People screamed as the crown prince passed them by. Too mesmerized by the prince’s appearance, I hadn’t noticed the limp human form trailing behind him at first—the source of the strange sound, it would seem. “Happy birthday, Little Brother,” the crown prince said, arriving at the steps before where the empress consort and second prince were seated and pitching the slack body forward. “B-Brother!” “P-Prince Callisto!” stuttered the empress consort, jumping to her feet and brandishing an angry finger. “Wh-what do you think you’re doing?!” “What am I doing? Why, I’m attending my brother’s birthday celebration, Mother.” “You’re the crown prince! How dare you do such a horrid thing, and at a party you weren’t even invited to, at that!” The empress consort was seething, quivering with anger. She avoided spelling out exactly what the crown prince had done—namely, beating someone and dragging them inside, apparently. “Not invited? Now that hurts,” he said. “What gave you the right to come here?!” “I received an invitation, and I put aside all pressing matters of state so that I could make it,” the crown prince said with a shrug. He didn’t look upset at all, contrary to his earlier words. I couldn’t really grasp what was going on. Is the empress consort not his real mother? The crown prince continued. “I will say, though, the attendant you chose to deliver it wasn’t very good at his job.” He bent down, grabbed the man he’d dragged in by the hair, and yanked his head up. The man’s face was covered completely by a black mask. He’s dressed like an assassin…, I realized. “I asked him for the invitation, but he seemed intent on doing something else entirely, so I had to teach him a lesson.” “…” “Brother dearest, you should really choose your men more wisely.” In the blink of an eye, the crown prince’s sword came free of its sheath, and in the next moment, he had decapitated the assassin. Blood immediately began gushing from the dead man like some kind of morbid fountain. “Enjoy your birthday present,” the crown prince said, tossing the severed head at the second prince’s feet. “Eeeek!” The empress’s shriek filled the ballroom as the head rolled about like a ball. The second prince was ghostly pale, looking about ready to faint. “If you want more presents like this, feel free to send as many of your men as you please.” The ballroom was shocked into silence, and the only person smiling was the crown prince. It was a fierce, hellish smile. He disappeared as quickly as he’d come, leaving an astonished hush in his wake. Once he was gone, I could hear people exhaling around me. I sighed gustily to myself, realizing I, too, had been holding my breath. What the hell was that? I brought a hand to my chest and desperately tried to remember. The game never showed a scene like this! It had been a startling sight, to put it extremely lightly, so I was certain I wouldn’t have forgotten if it did come up. It wasn’t even a case of something I’d noticed in passing but disregarded, like the needle marks on Penelope’s skin. [The crown prince, having never had a good relationship with the second prince, left the ballroom upset following a slight disturbance.] That was all I could recall from the game. This is what you call a slight disturbance?! I watched as the attendants gathered the body and mopped up the blood, only to be interrupted by the white window sliding into view again. <SYSTEM> A new episode is available. [Crown Prince of Blood and Iron—Callisto Regulus] Teleport to the maze garden? [YES / NO] I considered it for a long moment. The crown prince seemed to be way damn more of a lunatic than I’d been aware of, and I didn’t feel brave enough to follow him. What if he cuts off my head the moment he sees me? But at least the death would be quick. I had come here to die, after all. I just need to go through with it once, then I might be able to go home. Besides, I had the reset button as much-needed insurance. If I really died, I could surely reset my progress. Doing my best to suppress my anxiety, I pressed [YES] with a trembling finger. My vision immediately faded to white. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing at the entrance to the maze garden. “That’s convenient.” Honestly, I was a bit directionally challenged, so I’d been worried about finding the right place. I hadn’t realized I was able to insta-travel, just like in the actual game. “Now then, let’s go get killed, shall we?” Steeling myself for what was to come, I stepped into the garden. Thankfully, there was no chance of losing my way once I was in the maze. Perhaps out of an act of kindness, the developers had added lighting only on the correct path. And so I made my way deep inside, following the glow of the lamps. How much farther do I have to go? I’d been walking for a good while now, but the maze didn’t seem to end. Just as I was thinking about how my feet were killing me, I noticed a bright light in the distance. I’d finally arrived. Rushing over, I turned the corner into a vast open area with a small fountain and a bench. “Huh? Where is he?” I couldn’t see any more lamps around me, which meant I’d definitely reached the end of the path, but the crown prince was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, I approached the fountain with tentative steps. Shing. All of a sudden, something cold and heavy was pressing down on my neck. I gasped. “I was wondering what little rat was creeping along after me,” the crown prince said, advancing from behind in a semicircle and coming to a stop in front of me. The blade held to my neck slid across my skin as he moved. I felt a prick of pain as the metal bit into flesh, something warm dripping down my neck. I wasn’t really consciously aware that he’d cut me, though, too tense to notice. “Why, if it isn’t the Mad Dog of Eckhart.” His golden hair shone in the moonlight, and his eyes were red as if soaked in blood. It was as if a demon were smiling down at me in amusement. However, that didn’t last long, and the smile dropped off his face with his next words. “That you thought to follow me after seeing what happened in the ballroom suggests your madness stems from a death wish.” His expressionless face sent shivers down my spine. “Tell me. Why did you sneak after me like a rat in my shadow?” The blade was slowly biting deeper into my skin, but even more frightening was the bloodlust shimmering in his eyes. I knew in that moment that the crown prince was about to kill me. The reset button! I darted my eyes around frantically for it—even if I died now, I had to learn where the button was first. “If you don’t have an answer for me, how about some farewell words to the duke and your brothers, then?” The button was nowhere to be found. “I’ll personally deliver to them your final wishes.” I couldn’t see it anywhere. The button! The reset button! Where is it, dammit?! I felt as if I was going to pass out. I couldn’t find the button anywhere. What’s worse, the crown prince seemed hell-bent on killing me. He was lifting his sword above his head, preparing to strike. “W-wait! Wait a second!” The crown prince tilted his head to the side at my scream. “So now you feel like talking, huh?” “Yes! I’ll talk! I-I’ll talk!” I said, nodding along desperately. He lowered the sword to my neck again and stared down at me haughtily. “Then by all means.” “W-well…” I’d shouted in an attempt to stall for time, but now I couldn’t think of anything that might appease him. What was I supposed to say? “I stalked you so you’d kill me”? As if! I could no longer recklessly tempt death without a reset button I could press to undo it. Should I turn on the dialogue prompts again? But those wouldn’t save me. In fact, it was because I’d had them turned off that I’d survived thus far. “I can almost hear the gears grinding away in your head.” The crown prince smiled cruelly as I racked my brain. “I’m really looking forward to hearing what you have to say.” The letters [Affection: 0%] blinked tauntingly above him. “Your reason better be to my liking, daughter of House Eckhart.” “…” “You see,” he began in an ominous tone, “I really hate being interrupted.” The blade of his sword dug almost tenderly into my skin, and yet more warm blood trickled down my neck. Overwhelmed with the sudden primal fear of dying, my brain completely short-circuited. “I…I love you!” I said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “…What did you just say?” His red eyes widened. He was clearly taken aback. Screw it! I squeezed my eyes and, my mouth no longer under my control, shouted, “I-I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Your Highness!” “…” “Seeing what happened earlier, I thought you might be upset, so I came to comfort you…!” This was bullshit of the highest degree, and it wasn’t a part of the existing story in either Normal or Hard Mode. While it was true the Normal Mode heroine met with the crown prince and consoled him, that was only because she hadn’t seen him behead the assassin earlier. Shit, shit, shit. Why did such an insane thing leave my mouth? It was utterly absurd, even in light of the fact that I’d been out of options. But then again, there was only one logical reason a noble lady would chase a man into a secluded maze…or so I would have thought, if this game were anything resembling a normal love story. Goodbye, you twisted-ass game. If I return to my world after I die, I’m one hundred percent leaving a scathing one-star review. Keeping my eyes shut, I trembled fiercely in anticipation of the swing of his sword. But no matter how long I waited, the high-pitched whistle of steel splitting the air didn’t come. “Hmm… So the duke’s ‘mad dog’ loves the hellion of the Imperial family?” he muttered, as if to himself. A night breeze tickled my nose. I opened my eyes cautiously. “That’s…” “…” “That’s quite unexpected, as excuses go.” His bloodred eyes were inches from my face, and my breath hitched in my chest. I could see amusement dancing in his gaze. “We aren’t properly acquainted, are we? Nothing beyond brushing by each other at my homecoming celebration, I believe.” We’d never met, actually, since I’d entered this damn game after that party. Stiffly, I replied, “I-it was love at first sight.” “What exactly made you fall for me, then?” “Well, I…” This time I was well and truly stumped. What could I even conjure up? I’d crossed out his name over and over to remind myself to stay the hell away from this guy! I studied him despairingly, desperate to find something to say before his patience ran out. “Your looks… You’re so handsome…” “My looks are all I’m good for? How depressing.” “Y-you’re also…brave…and good with a sword…” “Too cliché. Have you nothing more creative?” “I… Uh…” I could feel the likelihood of just straight-up fainting increasing with every reason he shot down. My knees were on the verge of giving out, in fact, and it was by sheer force of will that I was still standing. The cold metal at my neck terrified me to no end. “Well…you see…” The grin stretching his red lips deepened the closer I got to outright crying. What was I thinking, purposefully trying to die at the hands of this psycho? I must’ve lost my mind. I was about to collapse when he finally spoke. “Fine. Though I’m not entirely satisfied with your reasoning, I’ll let it slide this once.” He lowered his blade. Looking up in shock, I found the crown prince’s eyes gleaming down at me with excitement. “But the next time we meet, I’ll have you regale me in full detail just why, how, and when you started to fall for me.” I nodded my head eagerly. “Go on, then,” he said, waving me off and sheathing his sword in its scabbard. Before I could move, the meter above his luxurious golden hair started to glow. Then it changed. [Affection: 2%] I stared at it, not because I was happy, but in pure outrage. “What are you doing just standing there? Did you want me to add more cuts to your neck?” the crown prince offered, miming a slicing motion by sliding his thumb across his throat. “N-no, of course not!” I said, jolting and haltingly backing away. When I reached the corner exit, I turned and walked as fast as I could. It didn’t occur to me to offer any polite parting words to the man, even though he was a member of the Imperial family. The only thing I was capable of was not breaking into an all-out run as I felt his eyes on my back. As soon as I rounded the corner and exited his sight, I started to sprint, causing the cold wind to graze the cut in my neck. In the moment, though, that pain was inconsequential. There’s no reset button. Even as the crown prince was about to cut me down, the lack of the reset button was what had filled me with the most fear. The insurance policy I’d been counting on didn’t exist, which meant I only had one chance at navigating this whole thing. What if one life is all I get? I thought dying might return me to my own world, but what if dying here is just…the end? I was but an ordinary college student. Risking my life on the off chance that dying would bring me back was something I didn’t have the gall to do. The only option left was pairing up with one of the game characters and unlocking a happy ending somehow. But how? All the male love interests were poised to kill me at the slightest provocation. How could I beat the game in these conditions? It didn’t matter that their affection meters were rising, not when they could plummet in an instant. What if someone’s affection drops drastically like it did when I was playing the game? That would mean all my effort was for naught, for one thing, and certain death, for the other. I don’t want to die! Why is this happening to me? I’d managed to scrape by in the real world until I could escape my half brothers. Why do I have to work so hard to please these men I don’t know? Why do I have to die a stupid death in this stupid game world that’s not even my own? I was breathing hard, and I realized belatedly that sobs were escaping in between gasps. Having sprinted along the lit path, I’d arrived at the maze’s entrance before I knew it. I was about to exit altogether when— Slam! I collided with someone I hadn’t seen in the darkness. “Ah!” Fear took complete control of me. Is it the crown prince? Did he follow me to kill me after all? Just as I was preparing to make a run for it, the other person seized my wrist. “Let go of me!” I cried, terrified out of my wits. “Let go!” “My lady?” an unfamiliar voice said. “Why do I have to die? I don’t want to die! I won’t!” “My lady! Please calm down!” I frantically tried to shake the hand off my wrist, but as the newcomer grabbed me by the shoulders, I slowly started returning to my senses. “Are you all right?” Navy-blue eyes wide with surprise were staring down at me, silver hair illuminated in the faint glow of the lamps. Above his head glinted [Affection: 0%]. I sobbed again at the sight, trying to slow my breathing. “Shh, there now. I mean you no harm,” said the man in a soft voice, seemingly mindful of my obvious distress. Another love interest? I despaired when I realized who this was: Winter Verdandi, the marquis and sorcerer. “I’m…I’m okay now.” The realization that it wasn’t the crown prince hunting me down was enough to settle me. I hastily wiped away the tears running down my cheeks. At this point, I just wanted to go home. I didn’t want to spend another minute in this place, and I most definitely wasn’t equipped to deal with Winter right now. “Though it seems I’ve made a fool of myself in front of a stranger. Please forget that you saw me like this. If you’ll excuse me,” I rattled off quickly, trying to recover my composure. I nodded to him and attempted to beat a retreat, but he sidestepped, standing in my way. “You’re bleeding quite a lot.” He pointed to my neck. “Not to mention you look pale. Let me help you to a doctor.” “Thank you, but I’m in a hurry…” “Then take this, at least.” While I didn’t want anything to do with him, he didn’t seem willing to let me leave. He quickly picked something out of his breast pocket. “Press this against your wound. It should stanch the blood flow.” In his hand was a white handkerchief. I stared blankly at him for a few seconds before accepting it. I couldn’t return to the ballroom dripping blood, after all. With another nod, I replied, my voice devoid of emotion, “Thank you. I’ll be sure to return the favor someday.” “There’s no need,” he said politely, suddenly reaching out his hand. “I only wish that when next we meet, the sadness is gone from your lovely eyes.” His warm fingertips brushed my face. [Affection: 9%] I was too busy staring in astonishment at the glittering letters above his head to notice the way he was gazing at me. My neck had already stopped bleeding by the time I arrived at the ballroom entrance, Winter’s handkerchief pressed against the wound. Who knew, maybe the sorcerer had cast a spell on it? I was about to go inside and look for Derrick when I paused, giving my clothes a once-over. Who would have guessed choosing dark green would come so in handy? The deep color made the bloodstains almost imperceptible to the naked eye. I tidied my hair, which had become tousled from running, and entered without further delay. Finding Derrick was simple. The cold, handsome male lead had a magnetism about him that made him stand out even amid the large group gathered around him. He told me not to cause any trouble… He’ll probably throw a fit if he sees the cut on my neck. I was so busy thinking about his warning that I failed to realize that people were staring at me. Just because my dress looked fine didn’t mean I did. “Brother,” I said softly, trying not to attract any attention. He somehow heard me, much to my relief, and turned his head to look. “I’m not…feeling very well… I think I should head home first.” Derrick’s blue eyes slowly widened at the sight of his ashen sister, a bloody handkerchief clutched against her neck. “Right…away…,” I said as my vision faded. The last thing I saw before fainting was Derrick rushing over to me, his face gone white. I couldn’t remember what happened after that. “Miss!” “Hurry! Fetch a doctor!” I heard a shrill scream and hurried footsteps, all very faint and far away. It was just a shallow cut, but I was bedridden for several days after returning to the manor. It seemed the stress from trying to avoid death at the hands of the game’s cruel devices had taken its toll. I dreamed endlessly while I was unconscious. Now that I was Penelope, I’d assumed my dreams would all be about her past, but I was wrong. I dreamed about my own past, memories I’d forgotten. In one dream, I’d just started living at my father’s house. I had begun attending a high school populated almost exclusively by the children of ultrarich families. I was getting ready to leave after classes had ended for the day when someone tapped my shoulder. “Hey. Your brother is looking for you. He wants you to come see him in the gym storage room.” The younger of my two half brothers was one of the biggest bullies in the school, and the student who’d approached me was one of his lackeys. I went to the storage room without giving much thought to the request. Though my second-eldest brother seemed to be slowly but steadily working toward making me an outcast, I didn’t have cause to be super concerned at that point. “Hello?” I pushed the door open cautiously and hovered in the doorway. It was so dark that I couldn’t see anything. As I squinted into the dim room, something was suddenly pulled over my head. It felt like a plastic bag. “Wh-what the—? Hey!” I was shoved inside, unable to see, and what followed could only be described as a thorough beating. Dozens of feet kicked me from all directions, and I was helpless to do anything to stop them. All I could do was scream and try to shrink away from the barrage of blows. “Whoo, that felt good. How’d a beggar-reject like her end up here anyway? They don’t usually let her kind attend our type of school.” “Hey, are you sure we’ll get away with this? What if her brother finds out?” “You’re clueless, aren’t you? He hates her. I went with my dad to one of his get-togethers, and I saw him there. His jaw was clenched so hard I thought it would break when we started talking about her.” I struggled and failed to get to my feet, hoping I wouldn’t pass out, while the students snickered and jeered. Their words hurt more than their kicks. “You. Stay out of our way, understand? And don’t you dare tell anyone about this.” With that, they left me on the storage room floor. I lay there on the ground, completely still, for at least an hour. The pain prevented me from moving a single muscle. There had been no warning, and I’d been defenseless against the unexpected violence. I finally sat up with great effort, and when I removed the plastic bag from my head, I saw that my uniform and backpack were a mess. I went to the bathroom, hoping to erase all the dirty footprints from my clothing. When I glanced in the mirror, I realized my uniform was the least of my problems. My eyes were already beginning to swell and bruise. Someone must have kicked me in the face, too. A laugh bubbled up in me at how obvious it was that I’d been beaten up. Honestly, I couldn’t actually remember clearly how I’d felt back then, dazed and groggy as I was. I trudged back to the dreadful house I was forced to call home. I wished I never had to go back, but I had nowhere else to go. Stepping inside, I found, to my chagrin, that my biological father and half brothers were drinking tea in the living room. “I’m home,” I said with a quick nod before rushing toward the stairs. I wasn’t allowed to interlope in family activities. “Wait a second. Stop.” They usually never even noticed when I came home, but today seemed to be my unlucky day. Asshole #2 called out to me. “I said stop!” I ignored him and walked faster. He sprang out of his seat and grabbed my wrist before I could reach the stairs. “What happened to you? What’s wrong with your clothes?” he demanded. “It’s nothing… I tripped and fell,” I replied, my gaze fixed on the floor so the bruises around my eyes were hidden from him by my hair. “Hey, look at me. Did someone hit you?” “No. I fell.” “Oy, I told you to look at me!” I wanted to go and rest, but he forced my chin up. “What happened to your face? Son of a… Who did this to you?!” He parted my hair, revealing the black-and-blue mess that was my face. “I told you, it’s nothing.” “It’s obviously not nothing, stupid!” he cried. “It’s nothing, so please! Please just leave me alone! Leave me the hell alone!!” I finally screamed hysterically, shoving his hands away before I knew what I was doing. My father and eldest brother, who’d never seen me angry, looked on in shock. It was my most wretched moment. They’d been sitting in the living room eating apples while I was being beaten to a pulp. “Why are you acting like you care all of sudden?! You’ve never given a damn about me!” Even so, I had achingly envied them, sitting together like that in the living room. It was a miserable feeling, knowing I had no place among them. “Just leave me alone! When have I ever asked you for anything? I’ve lain low and kept quiet, so why?! Why do you keep doing this to me?!” A terrible silence filled the living room. I knew crying made me look weak, but my emotions were out of my control at that point. The tears I’d repressed for so long poured out, and I sobbed like a baby, oblivious to their expressions as they watched. The younger of the brothers came to see me a few days later, when the bruising around my eyes was starting to fade. “I found all those little shits and beat them within an inch of their lives,” he said in greeting. I’d heard that a group of bullies had been transported to the ER all at once, so I had an inkling of what had happened. “How much did you let those scumbags look down on you to think they could get away with treating you that way?” he asked scathingly as I hung my head without comment. “Anyway, it’s handled now, and it won’t ever happen again. Got it?” He seemed proud of himself, but I didn’t feel even the slightest bit grateful. All this would do was isolate me further at school, and the bullying would only grow worse. “…Thank you, Big Bro,” I forced myself to say. But really, I wanted to scream at him, tell him that this was all his fault. Why should I be grateful to him for cleaning up the mess he created? You know what? I truly and sincerely… “—is all you said it was, so why isn’t she waking up?!” …Someone was shouting nearby. Head throbbing, I squinted my eyes open in slits. “—try it, at least! I’ll kill you and that royal lunatic if—” “Too loud,” I croaked. Someone rushed over to me. “Hey, are you all right? Can you hear me?” My vision was blurry, and I couldn’t see who was looming over me. The voice, though, I knew painfully well. It was Asshole #2, my second half brother. “I…really…hate you…,” I said with all the force I could muster. I’d wanted to say this for so long. “I hate you…so much… More than you hate me… A hundred times more… A thousand times…” “…” “I hate you more than anyone else…” Having managed to get the words out despite the difficulty, I finally relaxed, my eyes shuttering again. I fell asleep too quickly to see the way the pink-haired man’s whole body seemed to turn to stone, his blue eyes frozen in wide circles. It took me four days to recover. The first person to greet me was a tearful Emily. “Miss…are you feeling better now?” “Yeah. I’m all right,” I reassured her. “Thank goodness! I’ve been worried sick. The young masters and His Grace the duke were also super worried.” “You don’t say?” I answered absently. It was clear to me that she was just being polite in tacking their names on. Emily nodded enthusiastically and kept chattering. “I do! Young Lord Derrick was as pale as a sheet! He ran all the way back to the manor with you in his arms!” “My brother…did?” “Yes! His Grace was extremely upset. He demanded that all the most distinguished doctors from the capital be summoned right away. Oh, and the butler Pennel barely managed to stop Young Master Reynold from storming off to the palace.” Emily’s words hit me as surprise after surprise. Though I was certain she was exaggerating a little, I hadn’t expected that the occupants of this house would go out of their way for a girl they seemed to hate so much. “I was so afraid something was terribly wrong with you…” The other girl trailed off. “You must have had a hard time, Emily.” “A hard time?! Oh no, please don’t say that. I’m your personal maid, you know!” Looks like there’s been quite the shake up while I was unconscious. I was puzzled by the way Emily teared up, insisting she was my personal maid. It was as if she were a completely different person from the girl who had jabbed me with a needle every day. “Oh, right! No time for dawdling. I’ll go inform His Grace that you’re awake!” Emily hastily rose from where she’d been seated by my side. I nodded easily. “Bring some melon sherbet with you when you come back, will you?” The first thing I did after getting out of bed was look in the mirror. I was in a terrible state, but that was to be expected considering how long I’d been bedridden. On top of that, the place where the crown prince had cut my neck with his sword had a bulky bandage packed onto it. “Why are the bandages so thick?” I wondered aloud. You’d think I broke my neck or something. I briefly considered removing the stifling bandages, but I decided to leave them for a little longer. It occurred to me that playing the ailing patient might work to my advantage. After finishing the clam stew and melon sherbet Emily brought me, I went back to resting in bed. Knock, knock. Someone was at the door. “Miss, it’s me, Pennel.” The butler. Seems he’s learned his lesson about opening my door without permission. Still, I couldn’t help frowning. I remember telling him to send someone in his place if he needed anything from me. I hadn’t completely forgiven him yet, so I sent Emily to answer. “Go and see what he wants.” Emily left the room without a fuss. Moments later, she returned with unexpected news. “Miss, he says His Grace wishes to see you,” she reported. “My…father?” Well, I suppose when the lord of the manor calls, the only suitable messenger is the butler. Understanding why the old man had come himself, I moseyed my way out of bed. “Please bring me a robe, Emily.” “You’re not going to change, Miss?” she asked, puzzled. I was wearing a white nightgown, hardly suitable for a meeting with another adult. “Sick patients don’t have to dress up,” I sniffed imperiously, pulling on the robe. Seriously, though. To drag a just-awoken daughter from her sickbed… The adopted child’s eternal lot in life, I guess. Even though it hadn’t been on purpose, I’d caused another scene at the palace. My punishment last time had been confinement to my room, so there was no knowing what was in store for me now. If I had any hopes of softening the blow, I had to make sure they could see I was still ill. Thankfully, the four days in bed had left my face gaunt, and I looked pitiful without even trying. Story of my life… With a deep sigh, I exited my room. The butler—who’d been waiting at the door for a while by then—immediately straightened up. “This way, Miss,” he said, politely gesturing with his free hand at his waist. Huh? I knew which way the duke’s room was, but so far, the butler had always walked ahead of me. I shot him a bemused look, and he suddenly bowed. “I am but a humble servant. I dare not walk in front of the mistress I attend.” I studied his face, wondering if he was mocking me for my previous outburst, but I couldn’t detect any sarcasm. In fact, his solemn expression made it seem as though he had been waiting for this day to come. “After you, Miss,” he prompted in a perfectly proper tone. Something felt different about him. It was almost as if… He reminded me of a restaurant owner greeting a regular who hadn’t been around for a while: “We’ve been waiting for you. Your usual, I presume?” There’s something weird in the water at the manor today. What’s the matter with everyone? The servants, who’d always glared at me contemptuously when I so much as stepped foot outside my room, now dropped their eyes and bowed decorously when I glanced over at them. Little did I know that it was because of the butler, who glared at them fiercely as he walked behind me. “One moment, Miss.” When we arrived at the duke’s office, the butler—who’d been following silently like a cat—suddenly pounced forward. Knock, knock. “Your Grace, Miss Penelope has arrived,” he announced. “Send her in.” The butler opened the door, the perfect picture of a respectful servant. “Here you are, Miss.” An odd feeling rushed over me as I entered, but I concealed my confusion with indifference. Seriously, did he sneak off to go to butler boot camp while I was sick? “There you are,” the duke greeted me. Unlike before, when he’d talked to me from behind his desk, he was sitting on a sofa next to the table reserved for receiving guests. “Hello, Father,” I said with a bow. He nodded and gestured to another couch. “Sit down.” I sat opposite him, going over the excuses I’d prepared in my head. There was a brief silence before the duke began speaking in a serious tone. “The reason I summoned you today—” “Father, wait. Please allow me to say something first,” I quickly interrupted. Jumping to my feet only to fall to my knees the next moment, I kneeled next to the sofa. “What happened was all my fault.” This was my strategy. I would take the initiative and apologize before he could say anything. “My probation only just ended, yet I seemed not to have learned my lesson. I caused another scene at the palace, bringing dishonor once again to the family name.” The words tumbled out of me easily. He wouldn’t kick me out, would he? Not when his sickly daughter was begging him on her knees. I figured this way, I could beat him to it and head off whatever he’d decided to do to me. “Wait a moment,” the duke said, visibly confused. My plan seemed to be working. “I don’t dare ask for your forgiveness. I know better than anyone that I have done wrong.” “What are you—?” the duke tried again. “I’ll endure whatever punishment you deem fit. So please—” “Enough!” he shouted, raising his hand, just as I’d been about to plead for leniency. “Penelope Eckhart,” he said, this time in a calmer voice. Oh no. Maybe the same tactic won’t work twice. I grew worried at the thought. Taking a deep breath, I replied, “Yes, Father?” “Get up.” “…Huh?” I said, confused. The duke’s forehead was pinched. “A member of House Eckhart does not grovel under any circumstances. Do not be so quick to lower your head, Penelope.” “…” “You are an Eckhart, and no one can force you to kneel, not even a member of the Imperial family!” The duke’s voice seemed to grow louder at the mention of royalty. “If that is clear, then get on your feet!” “Y-yes, Father!” I immediately bolted up and returned to my seat on the sofa. The duke had never been this assertive in the game. My heart was racing. Is it something I said? He continued in a grave tone, “Penelope. I did not call you here today to reprimand you.” “Really? Then why—?” “I wished to hear in detail about what happened at the palace,” he explained. “…” “Tell me. What on earth transpired between you and the crown prince?” I thought back to the moments leading up to when I passed out. I’d followed the crown prince with the intention of letting him kill me and had nearly been decapitated by his sword as a result. I’d only managed to escape with my life by making the absurd claim that I loved him. The memory alone sent a chill down my spine. “I…” Unaware that the duke was watching me closely, I paled but pieced together a story with some finagling. “I went out to the maze garden for some fresh air, but I took a wrong turn and stumbled upon the crown prince. It just so happened that His Highness wasn’t in a good mood, and…” None of what I was saying was remotely close to what had actually went down. Ever since I entered this game, I’ve been on track to becoming a professional liar. But what did it matter? I legitimately couldn’t tell the truth. And besides, my story wasn’t completely made up. “And?” “…” “You mean to say he mutilated you because he was in a bad mood?” The duke’s eyes glinted furiously as I trailed off. “Huh? Well, mutilate is a pretty strong word, but—” “What else would you call it? How dare that hellion take a sword to an innocent noble lady solely because of a foul mood?!” I couldn’t grasp why, but the duke seemed extremely upset. The crown prince’s ears must be burning somewhere. Since I had been somewhat responsible for the situation in the maze garden, I rushed to add, “I—I was the one who tried his temper in the first place, I think.” “Well done,” the duke said in a sudden act of praise. “Uh… What?” “We can use your condition as leverage to keep the crown prince indebted to us. You have matured beautifully into an admirable member of House Eckhart, Penelope.” The duke was becoming increasingly impossible to predict, leaving me stupefied more often than not. “He needed to be taken down a peg sooner or later. All that talk of him being a war hero has made him think himself untouchable.” “F-Father…” If anyone heard him talk like this, he would be charged with treason. The duke didn’t seem fazed, though. “As you well know, Penelope, House Eckhart is a neutral faction in the political sphere.” “Yes, of course.” Didn’t have the foggiest clue till right this second. “He may be next in line for the throne, but he’ll be hard-pressed to survive without a single supporter at his flank. Since Her Majesty the empress’s death, the number of forces backing the crown prince has dwindled.” “…” “And while the crown prince was away at war, the empress consort—mother to the second prince—successfully spread her influence throughout the palace.” “…” “We sit at a delicate point where the next reigning emperor is not yet clear,” the duke said. I’d had no idea that such a detailed political backdrop to the story existed. The stupid game had only told me what I needed to know to win over the love interests. No wonder he acted like a madman at the ball. I hadn’t even been able to guess why the empress consort and second prince had sent an assassin after the crown prince, but now it was all making sense. “So continue to act as you have been,” concluded the duke. Then, with a satisfied smile, he said, “Since you’ve achieved a commendable result, a reward is in order, not a punishment. Is there anything you’d like in particular?” “A reward?” I’d come in here expecting a talking-to, not the opposite. I stared at the duke with wide eyes, the surprise plain on my face, and he gave a curt nod. “Shall I summon the jewelers again? Or, since the season is soon changing, perhaps a fresh wardrobe would suffice? You could have all new dresses fitted.” My jaw dropped. Damn, is that the scale we’re talking? Guess it’s my lucky day. Still, Penelope had already accrued more clothes than I could ever reasonably use, and I didn’t really need any of the things he was offering. I thought for a moment before replying, “I’ll think on it and let you know what I want later, Father.” With a click, I closed the office door behind me, only to be immediately greeted with a white window popping up in my vision. <SYSTEM> Your relationship with the manor inhabitants has improved. Reputation has increased +5 points. (TOTAL POINTS: 5) “Huh?” I laughed, perplexed. What did I even do? I hadn’t worked at improving any of my relationships, only threatened the servants a little to teach them their place. Was being hurt by the crown prince that big of a deal? The duke had reacted completely unexpectedly, and everything was unfolding so differently from how I’d imagined. At the same time, I also felt the warmth of satisfaction in my chest. Whether it was affection or reputation, “plus” could only be a good thing. All right. Let’s keep this up. “You’re back, Miss?” Emily greeted me as I entered my room. I nodded idly and briskly strode over to my desk. I had a lot to think about, including what reward I wanted from the duke. “Here, Miss…” Emily scurried over and handed me something. “You had this against your neck the day you fainted. Young Lord Derrick told me to throw it away, but I kept it and washed it just in case.” “Ah.” I stared at what Emily was holding out in her hands. It was the white handkerchief that Winter Verdandi had given me. It had totally slipped my mind. “Thanks, Emily,” I said, praising her since she’d done something to my liking for a change. She visibly brightened. The handkerchief was completely white again, and there was no sign that it had ever been drenched in blood. I stared at the fabric, considering what I should do with it. I really should repay his courtesy, right? Though I hadn’t required help, I couldn’t ignore his kind gesture. And he was one of the love interests, so I’d definitely be seeing him around. “Hmm… Emily, would you go to the butler and tell him to summon a jeweler tomorrow?” “A jeweler?” Emily questioned the sudden request, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion. Then she clapped her hands together, exclaiming, “Oh! Are you looking to buy some new accessories for the festival, Miss?” “The festival?” “Our empire’s founding festival is next week! I’ve heard the festivities will be grander than ever before, since the crown prince has returned from war…” “Please don’t bring him up,” I said bitterly. “Eep!” Emily gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth at her faux pas. The very mention of him was enough to make my stomach turn now. Emily was staring at me apprehensively, so I waved her away. “Go on, speak to the butler.” “Y-yes, Miss! I’ll be back as soon as possible!” Emily said before rushing off. The room fell quiet again after her departure. Drumming my fingers on the desk, I began to think aloud. “A festival next week, huh…?” The game was made up of a bunch of different episodes, each one focusing on one of the male leads. For example, the ability to pursue the crown prince’s storyline had been made available after I’d made some progress with Derrick and Reynold. Meeting Winter immediately after the crown prince had been a bit of a surprise. According to the game, I was supposed to meet him at the palace banquet, so not too much of a difference, but still. Now that I’d encountered Winter, the only character who remained was the knight Eckles. And if my memory served me, the duke was meant to appear with the final love interest in tow around the time of the festival. “What did Penelope do during the festival again?” All I could remember was receiving a notification that said the duke had brought a new character to the manor. I never saw hide or hair of Eckles in Hard Mode. There was an episode in both Derrick’s and Reynold’s stories that revolved around attending the event, “Check Out the Festival Together” or something like that? I’d been too busy dying over and over trying to beat it to pay any mind to Eckles. “Just thinking about it is making my blood pressure rise,” I scoffed, shaking my head. I hadn’t actually succeeded in making a festival date out of anyone in the end. I could feel bile rising in my throat, anger flaring within me. Trying to tamp my frustration down, I slammed open the desk drawer and retrieved the piece of paper I’d hidden deep inside. Reading through what I’d written previously, I muttered resolutely, “I need to find him before the duke does.” After surviving my encounter with the crown prince, I resolved not to squander the only life I had. I’d reach one of the endings as soon as possible and get the hell out of this screwed-up game. Which meant I had to focus all my efforts on the affection meter of the easiest mark. “Eckles,” I said, my eyes gleaming as they landed on the final love interest’s name. “I choose you.” In the following days, I busied myself roaming around outside the manor, ostensibly on “walks.” The estate was so large that it wouldn’t be a stretch to compare it to a small village. Past the beautiful gardens and broad fields was the training field and quarters used by the knights in the employ of the house. Beyond that lay a small forest. There must be a hidden path around here somewhere… What I was actually doing was looking for an opening that would allow me to escape the manor unnoticed for the festival, but the grounds were so vast that the task was proving difficult. Striking out yet another day, I plodded back to the garden and asked Emily to fetch me some refreshments. As I waited, I sat under an enormous tree to read for a while in its shade. As I neared the climax of the book, I heard the rustle of shoes on grass. “Emily. Hand me a bookmark, would you?” I held out my hand without looking, immersed in the story. It was only when I’d finished the few remaining pages that it struck me she had given no answer. “…Emily?” I asked, looking up. “Are you…feeling better?” The person holding the tray of refreshments was decidedly not Emily. “Uh…,” I said stupidly. [Affection: 8%] I stared at the letters above Derrick’s head. It had been 6 percent when I’d last seen him, and I couldn’t fathom how or why it had increased again. A slight breeze blew past us, carrying the refreshing scent of flowers. My hair fluttered around, a few strands blowing into my eyes and pulling me from my daze. Realizing I hadn’t stood to greet him, I hurriedly moved to rise. Derrick stopped me halfway through my jolted movement. “It’s all right. You needn’t get up.” “No, it’s fine. I was just about to head inside anyway,” I told him. “So you no longer need these refreshments?” “Ah…” I frowned, eyes falling to the platter he was holding. Dammit, why did Emily give it to him, of all people? “Emily didn’t ask you to carry that for her, did she, Young Lord?” I asked politely. “No. I told her I would take it since I had something of importance to speak to you about.” “To me?” The person he hated the very sight of? What could he possibly want with me? I was stumped for a moment until it slowly dawned on me. “You wish to talk about that day at the palace, right?” Though Duke Eckhart had been lenient, Derrick for sure wouldn’t let it go so easily. Ugh. I’ll just give him the apology I meant to make to the duke. I sighed, selecting my words carefully. The apology tumbled out of my mouth, mechanical and dry. “You warned me not to cause any more problems. My behavior that night must’ve affronted you. I’m sorry.” “…” “I put you in an awkward position, didn’t I, Young Lord? Well, I promised Father I’d keep to myself for a while. If you require a stricter punishment, however—” “What I wanted to say…,” he said, coldly cutting me off. “What I came to say…wasn’t regarding that.” His face was twisted into a discontent scowl as he peered down at me. Wait, really? It wasn’t? I glanced at the letters above his head. “Then why—?” “Why are we back to ‘Young Lord’?” he interrupted. “…Huh?” “Nothing, never mind. I misspoke.” Before I could make sense of what he was trying to say, Derrick abruptly changed the subject. “The reason I came to see you is because I wanted to give you this.” He effortlessly balanced the tray he was holding in one hand while rummaging about in his pocket with the other. My eyes widened when I saw what he held out to me. It was a women’s scarf that looked strangely out of place in his large, calloused hand. “This is…” “You can’t attend formal events swathed in bandages,” he said gruffly, casting a glance at my neck. I’d kept my wound tightly covered in thick bandages in hopes that when I inevitably met Derrick, he would have mercy on me. I must have looked almost comical, wrapped up like a mummy around the neck, but he remained expressionless. “Your reputation is already at rock bottom. What will people think if you traipse around with the possession of some unknown man?” “…” “Always bear in mind the weight of your actions and how they might affect our family name.” I alternated glances between the scarf and Derrick, my mouth agape. He was talking about the handkerchief Winter had given me. Though he’d told Emily to throw it away, it now lay in my desk drawer, clean and laundered. How did he even know a man gave it to me? I hadn’t realized he was so perceptive. I’d been sure I was in for another dressing down… I truly hadn’t expected this reaction from Derrick. I considered him, taking a moment to process his strange shift in attitude. “…Thank you,” I finally said. Keeping in mind how much I knew he hated Penelope, I took the scarf gingerly, careful not to let our hands touch. Well, well. This actually looks pretty expensive. It wasn’t wrapped or presented like a proper gift, but I knew from the soft drag of the fabric over my fingers that it was made from a luxurious material. I smiled, pleased at the unexpected present. “I’ll treasure it, Young Lord.” I peeked up through my eyelashes, meeting his gaze. He seemed to falter, and his expressionless face turned ice cold. G-geez, what’s his problem this time? I thought, frightened by the mercurial shift in his mood. I peered at the blinking affection meter above his head warily. “I…I seem to have forgotten something urgent I have to tend to.” I watched as Derrick practically fled, striding out of the garden with the tray still in hand. “What’s his deal?” I wondered. My eyes widened as I caught sight of his disappearing affection bar, though. [Affection: 10%] The white numbers had changed. “What the hell is with this game?” I muttered to myself. I can’t make sense of the brothers’ affection meters. They seem to rise without rhyme or reason. To be fair…that probably explains why I kept dying. I stared down at the scarf and had the odd feeling that things were getting further and further from the game I’d originally played. “There you are!” My long days of searching around the estate at last yielded a discovery. The walls surrounding the manor were nearly flawless in construction, but I’d uncovered a small gap in the wall near the training field, no doubt used by the knights when they wanted to play hooky from drills. It was meticulously hidden behind some brush, and if I hadn’t tripped on a rock and fallen right into it, I’d probably never have found it at all. “Ha! Why does this dumb game never tell you about the useful stuff?” I got up and dusted myself off. Feeling a sudden rush of annoyance, I kicked at the rock that had tripped me before readjusting my scarf, which had been disturbed by all my flailing about. I’d removed the ridiculous bandages recently and replaced them with Derrick’s gift. “At least I found it before the festival,” I sighed in relief. I’d been cutting it close. My deadline was just around the corner, with the festivities beginning the next day. I can’t say I wasn’t worried. A simpler route would’ve been to receive formal permission from the duke or Derrick to leave the manor, of course. But there was no way I’d be allowed off estate grounds without guards when the capital would be filled with endless crowds. Complicating matters was my need to participate in the slave market, which opened only during the dead of night. Discretion was my sole option. “I’m going through a lot of trouble to save you, Eckles. You better be worth it,” I muttered quietly, staring down at the doghole I’d discovered. I rearranged the trampled grass from where I’d fallen until it was once again hiding the gap from sight. My task complete, I straightened just in time for someone to call out to me from behind. “Hey, what are you doing over there?” I flinched and spun to face the newcomer. The letters that glowed above his pink hair made me doubt my eyes were working correctly for a moment. [Affection: 7%] Reynold’s affection had risen by 4 percent over the past week, even though I hadn’t seen him once in that time. Come on. Do these guys seriously gain affection for Penelope the less they see her? Something about the prospect made me upset. While playing the game, I’d been forced to meet them due to the circumstances of each episode. I’d had no clue that raising their meters would be as easy as simply staying away. So much time wasted and sleep forgone resetting over and over and over… “Why are you staring at me like an idiot? I asked you what you were doing,” Reynold pressed, bringing me back to my senses. “H-huh?” I looked away from his affection meter. “I’m…taking a walk.” “A walk?” Reynold narrowed his eyes. “You just so happen to be taking a walk near the hole in the wall, huh? What an amazing coincidence.” “…” I almost reacted but managed to keep my face neutral. Goose bumps prickled the skin on my arms. How the hell does he know? I’m pretty sure I did a good job covering my tracks! I peeked over at the brush, confirming that everything looked the same from before I’d disturbed it. Willing myself to stay calm, I changed the subject. “…Well, what are you doing here?” “Training just wrapped up. I’m on my way back now.” I belatedly noticed that Reynold’s pink hair was damp with sweat. The loose clothing he wore for exercise allowed me to catch a glimpse of his physique, which was usually hidden. Ooh, he’s got a nice body. Though he had a delicate, pretty face, his body was toned and muscular. The combination was strangely sexy. I deserve something nice every now and then as payment for suffering through all the nonsense in this game. I scanned his body surreptitiously, then promptly pretended I had done nothing of the sort. “Don’t let me stop you,” I said indifferently. “I’ll be continuing my walk.” I started to stroll away from him casually, but he called out to me after I’d taken only a few steps. “Oy, cut that shit out.” In an ideal world, I could ignore him, but in an effort to keep his affection from taking any damage, I stopped and turned to face him. “Cut what out?” I asked innocently. “Don’t get any dumb ideas. You already tried sneaking out of the manor four years ago, remember? After you saw some slacker knights climbing over the fence. Your broken leg is the reason Father had the walls rebuilt to be taller.” “…” “I could probably write a book with all the nasty stuff the knights said about you afterward, cursing you to hell and back.” No wonder the walls around the manor are so damn high! Something like that really happened? Penelope, you little scamp, you…! Four years ago, at age fourteen, she would’ve already finished the majority of her etiquette lessons. The game had told the player nothing about Penelope’s wild past. This, coupled with Reynold’s derisive tone, annoyed me deeply. “…It’s not like that.” Even I thought I didn’t sound convincing. “Just get permission from Father and go out the main gate. Don’t do something stupid again and invite trouble for it,” Reynold warned. “I said I’m not!” I shot back, silencing him. With a final suspicious narrowing of his eyes, he spun on his heel and strode away. I watched as the letters [Affection: 7%] bobbed along with him. A white window appeared in my vision. <SYSTEM> Surprise event unlocked! [Check Out the Festival] with [Reynold] Would you like to proceed? (Rewards: Reynold’s Affection +3%, other benefits) [YES / NO] This was the quest I’d been dreading. “I have to try this festival event with that jerk again? And for a measly three percentage points of affection?” I recalled his brusque tone just now and shuddered. When I’d been playing the game, that 3 percent had been enough motivation to attempt the quest. It had resulted in the repeated use of the reset button. What was worse, I never actually beat the episode. “Nope! No way!” I pressed the [NO] button vehemently without a hint of remorse. “How would I even enjoy the festival with him angrily breathing down my neck?” I grumbled to myself. Besides, losing the chance to gain 3 percent was no longer something to be all too sorry about. I had a respectable 10 percent affection with Derrick and 7 percent with Reynold, after all. Plus, enjoying the festival sights was not worth the effort it would take. Reynold now completely gone, I glared at the spot he had been occupying. Nasty jerk. Doesn’t he know? The more you tell Penelope not to do something… “…the more she’ll want to do it!” I huffed—the same words I’d wanted to say to Reynold the previous day—as I threw an armful of sheets out the window. Drained, I draped myself over the windowsill and tried to catch my breath. The first day of the festival had dawned. I’d waited patiently until nighttime, and after Emily retired for the evening, I’d pulled all the sheets from the closet and tied them into what seemed like a long enough rope. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book for escape via window. “Time to try and get down, then.” My breathing settled, I pushed myself back from the sill. I was thoroughly prepared for the adventure ahead of me. Wearing a hooded cloak that hid my hair and face, I carried the blank check and gold I’d requested as my reward from the duke. Now all that remained was to safely make my way two stories down. “Do I really have to do this?” I lamented, peering down into the darkness outside my window. Steeling my nerves, I shimmied over the frame and rappelled down the makeshift rope. The distance to cover was short, seeing as it was only a two-story drop. I’d eyeballed the length multiple times during my walks outside the manor and concluded that the height was manageable. I’d been so certain I’d make it with no problem, and yet… “Problem! Yes problem!!” My sheet rope was much shorter than I’d expected. What do I do? I can’t jump down without making a crapton of noise and possibly alerting someone. And it’s so dark out that I’d probably hurt myself landing anyway… “Dammit!” I despaired at the stark difference between expectation and reality. Looking back up, I saw that the distance to the window was no joke, either. Not that it mattered—I didn’t have the energy to climb back anyway. The most I could do was cling to the rope and pray I didn’t fall. “Ugh… What do I do now?” My arms were beginning to tremble, my palms growing sweaty. Slowly, I started sliding down involuntarily. Glancing below, I felt terror wash over me, fueled by my long-forgotten fear of heights. “I’m screwed…,” I said, sniffling. I was quite literally at the end of my rope. That is, until a voice called out. “Oy. What the hell are you doing?” It was coming from below. I glanced down and locked eyes with someone. “What the…?” he said with a laugh. “…Reynold?” The faint glow of moonlight shimmered off his pink locks. Reynold was gazing up at me from the window below with a look of dumbfounded amusement. “Wh-what are you doing down there?” I asked, still clinging desperately to the remaining length of my bedsheets. “Are you joking? My bedroom is right under yours.” “…” I had no response to that. How was I supposed to know these details?! “You… I don’t even know what to say, this is so absurd… Are you trying to run away from home?” Reynold laughed. “Of course not!” I exclaimed, indignant. “I-I’m just going out for a bit.” “Going out? Is leaving by way of window the trendy way for girls your age to ‘go out’ these days?” “…” I stared into the distance, unable to come up with a reasonable reply. So preoccupied with our conversation was I that I’d forgotten my arms were at their limit. My grip finally decided to give out, my hands unable to support my weight any longer, and for a brief moment, I was hurtling toward the ground. “Eek!” I screamed, managing to stop my fall at the very tip of the rope. My breath left me in panicked pants. I was flush against the wall like a cicada clinging to a tree, the tremble of my arms making me shake like a leaf. “Hey!” Reynold shouted, quickly vaulting onto his windowsill. He seemed pale as he launched himself outside, his eyes fixed on me. “Let go,” Reynold said, holding his arms out wide beneath me. “E-excuse me?” “Let go. I’ll catch you.” I nearly said “What makes you think I’d trust you?!” but caught myself just in time. “Or keep hanging there forever, if that’s what you want,” he snapped, seeing my hesitation. I had little choice. “…No dropping me. Please catch me, okay?” I begged earnestly. I might be his unwanted adopted sister, but he wouldn’t let me fall on purpose, would he? Willing myself to believe that was the case, I took a deep breath and let go. A violent rush of wind swirled around me, accompanied by the feeling of weightlessness I’d felt only once before on a roller coaster. Then, with a solid thump and an “I got you,” Reynold was holding me in his arms, a wicked smirk on his face. “P-please put me down,” I said, hurriedly pushing away from him when I realized how close our faces were. I was smoothing out the wrinkles in my cloak when Reynold asked, “So where are you going?” “Just on a walk—” “If you say you’re going on a walk one more time, I’m going straight to Father,” he said, cutting me off. I glared at him. Why did he have to be the one to catch me sneaking out? Actually, I suppose I should be glad it wasn’t Derrick. Changing strategies, I gave him a more plausible excuse. “I’m going to the festival,” I said without any more explanation. “This late? You could’ve gone during the day. And why escape out the window, at that?” “I have my reasons. It has nothing to do with you anyway,” I replied. “Nothing to do with me, my ass! You’re trying to go alone with no one to guard you! Do you know how dangerous it is out there right now? You seriously have no sense of self-preservation—” “Reynold,” I interrupted irritably. “I truly appreciate your help, really. But like I told you, I can handle my own affairs, so you don’t need to pay any attention to me.” “Oy, you…” Reynold seemed at a loss for words at my cold rebuttal. Glancing at the [Affection: 7%] above his head, I said judiciously, “I’m an adult. Whatever happens, good or bad, will be my responsibility and mine alone. As my brother, the best thing you can do is pretend you didn’t see me—” “I’m going with you.” “What…did you say?” Reynold, though, didn’t seem to find anything about his statement strange. “We’ll go together. I’ll be your escort. That’s the best thing a brother can do. Problem solved, no?” “…” “I’ll keep it a secret from Father. Let’s go together,” he urged again. What? Flustered, I couldn’t find the words to respond. What on earth had gotten into him? This is the same guy who hated the very sight of Penelope! Why does he suddenly want us to be all buddy-buddy? Growing more and more nervous by the second, I cautiously tried to dissuade him. “But…you hate me, right? So why would you go out of your way to—?” “Hate you?! Says who?” he bellowed, immediately irate. “You’re the one who was raving about hating me ‘a hundred’ and ‘a thousand times’ more than anyone in the world!” “Shh!” I said, panicked at his outburst. I looked around us frantically, afraid someone had heard him, but thankfully, no one came running to investigate. The quiet night hum remained uninterrupted. “Okay, fine, I get it! No need to shout,” I whisper-yelled, frowning. “And when did I ever say anything of that sort?” I wanted to rip into him for making things up, but alas, there was no time to waste. The clock was counting down on my mission to save Eckles. “In any case, I’m coming, and that’s that,” Reynold insisted petulantly. “I don’t care if you refuse.” A notification flashed before my eyes. <SYSTEM> Surprise event unlocked! [Check Out the Festival] with [Reynold] Would you like to proceed? (Rewards: Reynold’s Affection +3%, other benefits) [YES / NO] The quest I’d declined the day before popped up again. With the stubborn determination in Reynold’s eyes bearing down on me, I looked at the quest pop-up and exhaled heavily. I’d been left with little choice. “Fine. Together, then.” We walked toward the training field in silence. When I stopped us in front of the doghole in the wall I’d found the day before, he shot me a knowing look, his suspicions confirmed. Shoving aside the brush that covered the opening, I was about to climb through when a biting voice called out, “What are you two doing?” Reynold and I turned, horrified. I saw the affection meter first, its glow cutting through the darkness. “Where do you think you’re going this late at night?” “Brother,” said Reynold. Derrick approached us in long strides, glaring. He took in the hole in the wall and me, crouched beside it, and raised an eyebrow. “W-well…,” I stammered, scrambling for some kind of explanation. Dammit. Reynold, on the other hand, had no such trouble. He pointed at me, throwing me under the bus without a second thought. “She wants to see the festival.” “The festival?” Derrick repeated, frowning. “Yeah. I’m just going along to protect her and make sure she stays out of trouble,” said Reynold. Derrick’s gaze traveled from his younger brother to me, and I flinched under the weight of his cool stare. I’m not even going to be able to leave the house. There goes my plan to make Eckles my “all-in” man. I hung my head in frustration, all but giving up on attempting the Eckles storyline. “A member of the nobility should always be accompanied by at least two guards,” Derrick said in his usual aloof tone. “I will accompany you as well.” His unexpected response made my head shoot up just in time to catch the white window appearing again: <SYSTEM> Surprise event unlocked! [Check Out the Festival] with [Derrick] Would you like to proceed? (Rewards: Derrick’s Affection +3%, other benefits) [YES / NO] I’m totally screwed. Ha-ha-ha! I laughed in disbelief to myself, resigned to my cruel fate. I’d heard before that festivals were best enjoyed at night, and I could now see why. The streets were thronged with people, even though we hadn’t traveled too far from the manor. The main road, which was usually close to deserted, was now filled with beautiful floating lanterns and a wide variety of stalls. I’d been to similar festivals like this in the real world, though, so I passed by the stalls without so much as a glance. “Hey. I thought you wanted to check out the festivities?” Reynold said, finally questioning my lack of interest. I spared him a glance, replying tepidly, “I am.” “You’re not even asking us to buy you anything, Miss Shopaholic.” He gestured to a group of stalls selling general goods for women. Does he seriously think I’m here to enjoy the festival with him? I shot him a cold look before turning away silently. Frankly, I couldn’t focus on the festival right now. My head was elsewhere entirely; I was stressed over not knowing where to start looking for Eckles. “Oy, come over here for a sec.” Reynold took my hand and pulled me toward one of the stalls. “H-huh?” Derrick followed us in silence. “Look. This place has some nice stuff.” Reynold had drawn me over to a shop selling jewels and other accessories. “Welcome, welcome! Take your pick! We have many new products directly from the east,” the merchant boasted, gesturing to his wares. I stared up at Reynold, curious as to what he wanted at this random stall. “You heard the guy. Go on, choose something!” he said, frustrated. I finally cast my eyes on the wide array of sparkling accessories. The items on display were unique, the kind you’d only be able to find at a festival. I didn’t really want to buy any of them, though. Penelope’s jewelry box was already fit to burst with pretty things. I lost interest quickly, but an arm at the edge of my vision redirected my attention. “This one’s not bad,” Derrick said, picking something up. It was a bracelet with plum-colored gems strung on a platinum chain. “My, my! You have fabulous taste, my lord! That bracelet was made from rare gems found only in the mines in the east! The artisans worked on it for three entire months without rest, and…” The merchant continued to blabber on enthusiastically, sensing a potential buyer. An odd feeling washed over me as I stared at the piece of jewelry in Derrick’s hand—the purple gems resembled the color of my hair. No way. He’s not thinking of buying that for me, surely? I watched him, bemused, the [Affection: 10%] bobbing above his head. This entire situation was preposterous. “I’ll take this, then,” I interrupted, picking out something I liked, since it seemed Reynold was paying. The merchant, who’d been eagerly extolling the wonders of the bracelet, fell silent. “You’re not serious, are you?” Reynold asked incredulously, frowning at the item in my hand. Derrick was also looking at me skeptically. “Deadly. I’d like this mask.” I’d selected a white mask that had been poking out from underneath a pile of other knickknacks. It was a smiling mask with holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth. After some thought, it had occurred to me that even if I was concealing myself with a cloak, the slave market wouldn’t just allow a young girl entry. A disguise was a must-have. “This one, please.” “Oy. Listen, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while…,” Reynold said, a strangely grave expression falling over his face. “You don’t feel ill or anything, do you? Dizzy spells, waking up to find yourself standing in strange locations, stuff like that?” “If you don’t want to buy it for me, you can just say so.” “No, that’s not— You really want that mask?” Reynold asked. “Yes, I do!” I snapped, annoyed with his repeated questioning. The look in his eyes was dubious, but he finally purchased the mask, in addition to the bracelet Derrick had picked. Suddenly, I heard a brash, drawn-out noise coming from some distance away, like a brass instrument. I turned and found a procession of people large enough to fill the entire road. Firecrackers exploded all around, and the night air was flooded with sound. The parade had begun. Attendees rushed out to the main road to watch. Swept up in the excitement, people pushed past me left and right, knocking me around. I was too flustered to fight the swarm. “Here, grab hold.” An arm clothed in expensive fabric appeared in my line of sight. Its owner, Derrick, gazed down at me with his usual composed expression. “…Thank you.” I hurriedly grabbed him, fearing I’d be whisked away by the crowd otherwise. Under my palm, something snagged awkwardly. What am I holding on to? The loud crackling of firecrackers started up again. The procession was passing by the stall we were gathered in front of, and I tightened my grip on Derrick’s sleeve so I wouldn’t be carried along. Only I suddenly felt something rip under my hand. “H-huh?!” “Penelope!” Derrick cried. The jacket gave way, and I was swept into the mass of people. “O-oh no…” Caught in the throng, I was unable to escape; it was no short amount of time later that I finally shimmied myself free. Taking stock of my surroundings, I found myself standing in an unfamiliar, dark alleyway. Clutched in my hand was the golden button I’d accidentally torn from Derrick’s sleeve and the mask Reynold had bought me. “Where the hell am I…?” I made a face as I peered around, my eyes meeting only pitch blackness. That is, until a sudden flash of white filled my vision. <SYSTEM> A new episode is available. [Slave from a Tragically Fallen Nation—Eckles] Teleport to the slave auction? [YES / NO] My jaw hung open. “Just like that?” I thought my adoptive brothers had ruined any chance I had with the Eckles route, but apparently, it had worked itself out. I pressed [YES] and reappeared instantly in front of the slave auction. The exterior was shabby, something no one would give a second look. I could see a few people forming a line outside, faces hidden. Smart thinking with the mask. Mine was rather cheap looking compared with what some of the other nobles were wearing, but what did it matter as long as I could hide my identity? I slipped the smiling mask over my face and joined the queue, making sure to tighten the hood around my head so that my distinctive hair was covered. The line moved quickly, and soon it was my turn. “Your invitation.” A large, mean-looking man held out his hand expectantly. I need an invitation? I was caught off guard. It hadn’t even occurred to me that this might be invite only. You never said anything about this, you stupid game! The man frowned at my visible confusion. “No invitation? We’re members only. No entry without one. Next—” “W-wait!” The words members only caused an idea to form in my head. I rummaged through my pockets. “Here,” I said, holding out the button I’d torn off Derrick’s sleeve. The Eckhart symbol glinted clear as day on the surface of the round gold disk. The man’s eyes widened. “I forgot my invitation, but I trust this will do?” “I—I beg your pardon. I was unaware we were in the presence of such high nobility. P-please, go right ahead.” He hurriedly stepped aside, and I swept past him calmly, coolly, and collectedly, though I was internally quite surprised. Our family name really is powerful. Or perhaps my tactic only worked because the duke was already a frequent VIP customer at the black markets, occasionally bringing home useful slaves. Thinking about it left a bitter taste in my mouth, even if this was only a game. An attendant approached me as soon as I entered. “Allow me to guide you to the auction.” I followed him down a set of narrow stairs. A door stood at the end, a faint glimmer of light peeking out. The room behind it was incongruously luxurious and large. Whoa, that narrow stairwell was hiding all this? The broad hall seemed to be modeled after a Roman amphitheater, with tiered seating for the audience overlooking a central stage. “Please have a seat here, ma’am. And take this.” The attendant had brought me to a seat at the very front with a prime view of the stage, handing me a paddle for making bids before leaving. I stared at it blankly. “Ladies and gentlemen!” the auctioneer’s voice boomed, interrupting my daze. “Tonight’s event is finally set to begin!” Without delay, the auction opened. Slaves started filing onto the stage, restrained by chains laden with heavy weights. “Ten gold! Ten gold, do I hear any more? Going once, going twice… Sold!” The slaves all looked despondent, but regardless, they were bid on and sold in quick succession. As the auction moved forward, slaves of exceptional beauty or unique talents began to appear onstage, causing the prices to skyrocket. “A hundred gold! A hundred gold! Anyone else? Ah, looks like we have a hundred and two gold!” the auctioneer cried. The atmosphere in the room was heated, the participants in the hall thrumming with a desire to win whatever caught their eye. I, of course, was only interested in one person, and after a while, my patience was rewarded. “Now, what our distinguished guests have all been waiting for. Here is the much-anticipated final item in today’s auction!” I’d been watching the proceedings with a bored expression, but I straightened immediately when I saw who it was. “This slave hails from a barbaric nation woefully conquered by our great empire of Eorka! Introducing…Eckles!” I stared at the man onstage. Gray-brown, almost ash-colored hair, mouth muzzled with a hideous gag, eyes gleaming fiercely at the gathered crowd. It’s him. “I’m certain all in attendance are acquainted with the rumors about this slave,” the auctioneer said with a broad grin. Though I had no clue what he was talking about, everyone around me was nodding and murmuring. “But a thousand rumors can’t compare with seeing the real thing in the flesh! “That’s why today we have prepared a special demonstration for you all! Feast your eyes!” The man gestured dramatically, and a worker tossed something to Eckles. It was a small wooden practice sword, the kind used by children taking their first lessons in fighting. Huh? What is that for? I wondered, perplexed. My answer came with the clang of a metal gate sliding open, followed by the low snarling sound of five hyenas prowling onto the stage. Wh-what the…? What the hell is going on? I was appalled by the sight unfolding before my eyes. The beasts circled Eckles, salivating as if they hadn’t eaten in days. His hands and feet were bound, the shackles on his ankles connected to a chain that limited his range of movement. All this, and he was given only a single wooden sword to defend himself. He wore no armor, naked except for the rough drape of cloth covering his lower body. How is that fair?! My heart sank. At this rate, the starving hyenas would tear him to pieces and make a meal out of him. What do I do? Should I intervene—stand up and shout that I’ll buy him? “Grrr!” The snarling of the beasts broke through my fretting. Mid-prowl, the biggest of the animals suddenly launched itself at Eckles. He rolled and stabbed the hyena in the eye with a lightning-fast motion and followed up with a powerful kick. The beast whimpered as it was launched backward. It slid across the ground and slumped, lifeless. “Grrr!” “Ruff!” With a cacophony of growling and barking, the remaining hyenas lunged at him all together. “Eek!” I couldn’t help but scream. He may have been able to take down one of them, but it seemed obvious to me that fighting multiple hyenas at once was a losing battle. I needn’t have worried, however. Without a single superfluous movement, he avoided the creatures’ sharp claws and teeth, cutting them down efficiently one by one with nothing but that wooden sword. In no time, two of the hyenas crumpled to the floor, joining their lost companion. Only two remained. While Eckles was occupied with one beast, the other lunged at him from behind. He snapped the neck of the first, then spun, weapon at the ready. “Yip!” The last hyena let out a high-pitched yelp. Eckles’s sword plunged deep into its belly as it leaped on him, even though it was just a practice weapon with a dull tip. The final animal fell to the ground with a deafening thump, splattering blood everywhere. The fight was over. Eckles huffed, gasping for air. His shoulders were heaving, bright-crimson blood dripping from his hands. The entire auction house had fallen silent, and for a few seconds, the whole world stood still. Then someone clapped, then another, and soon enough, the applause grew to a thunderous din as the entire room joined in. “Thank you!” shouted the auctioneer as light flooded the room once more, the showcase complete. It wasn’t over for Eckles, though. “Grah!” The slave let out an almost inhuman growl. Seemingly in a deep state of bloodlust, he wildly swung the wooden sword still in his hand, swiping threateningly at the workers who approached him. That is, until his body suddenly seized up, and he collapsed to the ground, twitching. His limp form was promptly dragged offstage. I guess there’s some “security measure” to prevent the slaves from “getting out of hand,” I thought grimly. “Ha-ha, isn’t he a feisty one?” The auctioneer chuckled, calming the uneasy crowd. “Not easy to handle through normal means.” He winked. “Now, then! Shall we start the bidding off at a nice, low five hundred thousand gold?!” The bidding for Eckles had finally begun. Compared with the previous slaves, his starting price was steep, on a totally different scale. I focused on the proceedings, feeling tense. “Six hundred thousand!” shouted one voice. “Nine hundred thousand!” exclaimed another. “A million! We have a million!” The price was rocketing upward at a frightening pace. If this kept up, it would easily reach ten million, which was the going price I had anticipated. “Two million! I’m hearing two million gold— Ah, we have four million over there!” Thankfully, the fierce competition gradually died down. Eckles was a slave from a conquered enemy nation, and he couldn’t perform services in bed or be used for other enjoyments any time soon, given that he was so dangerous. Not many were willing to pay over five million in gold for him—not unless they were crazy. You could buy a small house with that amount, after all. “Five million! Six million! We have six million!” Only two bidders remained: an old woman, whose mask obscured her face but not the prominent wrinkles on her neck, and an extremely heavyset man. Their eyes glistened with greed and desire. There was no doubt in my mind what they both wanted Eckles for. “Nine million! We have nine million!” The old woman drove the price up an additional three million in what was probably her final bid. “Ten million! We’re standing at ten million!” But the man wasn’t giving up. The auctioneer stared, slack-jawed, apparently surprised by the amount of money they were willing to offer. The woman viciously slung her bidding paddle aside. She had lost. “Ten million! Do we have no more bids? Going once!” The countdown had begun. I looked around carefully, trying to scope out any potential rivals that might appear to challenge the man. “Going twice…” When I was certain no one else would step forward, I brandished my paddle. “One hundred million!” The auction house fell into dead silence once more. If the barrage of gazes that flew at me could produce sound, I would have drowned in a deafening deluge of noise. “One hundred—” The auctioneer’s mouth hung open in utter shock. He stammered, as though unable to believe his ears, before collecting himself and hollering gleefully, “One hundred million! A hundred million gold! Do we have any more bids?” As I expected, there weren’t any. But even if there had been, it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d come prepared to call ten times the amount offered by the final bidder. My life depended on this, and I would gladly pay any price, be it a hundred million or even a billion. “Sold to the lady over there for one hundred million gold!” “Th-this way, please.” Following the auction’s conclusion, the auctioneer himself guided me through the building. I guess that’s not his only job. He must be someone of importance within the organization. He led me to the cells where the slaves were kept, Eckles himself being held in solitary confinement deep in the prison. Our approach was met with the sharp crack of a whip. Several workers were lashing out at the same time, whips violently striking Eckles’s bare skin. He was being manhandled, taken toward where I assumed the carriages were. As far as I knew, purchased slaves were immediately moved to fortified carriages and then transported to the address of the buyer. Crack! With another snap of a whip, blood sprayed from the now-open wound on his back. Oh my gosh. He was in such a terrible state that I could barely stand to watch. I frowned, recalling what I knew about the game. There, the duke had bought Eckles at the height of the festivities. He’d seen the knight while they’d been transporting him and paid a premium to take him off the buyer’s hands. To beat the duke to him, I’d sneaked out on the very first night of the festival, consequences be damned. I’m glad I found him earlier than the game would have had me. How much worse it could have been… “How will you be paying, ma’am?” My train of thought was interrupted by the auctioneer—or rather, the slave trader—his tone greasy and groveling. “Here.” I passed him the blank check. “My, my!” he gasped at the sight of it. His eyes gleamed greedily as he asked, “Which house shall I bill this to?” “House Eckhart,” I said confidently. The duke would be upset to learn I’d spent a hundred million gold on a slave, but I’d already thought of a suitable excuse. The trader looked surprised, before eyeing me suspiciously. “Uh… If you don’t mind, ma’am… Do you have any proof of your identity?” “Are you saying you don’t believe me?” I asked coldly. The trader balked, waving in denial. “O-of course not! That would be absurd! However, it is usually a different member of House Eckhart in attendance at our auctions…” Left with no choice, I rummaged around in my pocket. I threw the small round object I’d found earlier at the slave trader, unimpressed. “Bring that when you come to collect the payment.” “O-oh my! I—I beg your forgiveness, my gracious lady, if I seemed doubtful!” The trader bowed deeply at the sight of Derrick’s gold button, which was unmistakably marked with the symbol of House Eckhart. He proceeded to pull something from his own pocket and hold it out toward me. “Please take this.” It was a ring set with an enormous glimmering ruby. “What is it?” “It’s a…token of sorts. Proof of ownership for the product.” With little choice, I accepted the ring, staring at it since I didn’t know what it did. The slave trader pointed at Eckles. “You see the choker around his neck?” There was a leather choker adorned with a yellow marble nestled against Eckles’s throat. I nodded. “It’s been enchanted with paralytic magic. If you press the ruby on this ring, it will cause the yellow marble to produce shock waves, allowing you to bring him to heel if necessary.” This must be what he used to subdue Eckles onstage. “Try not to use it too often, though, lest you fry his brain,” the trader warned. Fry his brain? This is so incredibly cruel. I frowned at the ring in my hand. “Please keep it on you at all times. For the petite sort like yourself, he’ll prove dangerous to handle. Go on, try it on.” Thanks to the mask, the slave trader couldn’t read the acrid distaste in my expression, continuing to insist I put the ring on. Unable to refuse, I slid it onto my index finger, when— “Aaargh!” A panicked scream pierced the air. My head shot up as I searched for the source of the commotion. Eckles’s thighs were clenched around a worker’s neck, choking him out. The chains previously restraining his ankles lay discarded on the ground, useless. “Q-quick! C-contain him!” screamed the trader, his face draining of all color. The workers, too afraid to get close to the vicious slave even as he tried to kill their companion, lashed out with their whips. Both Eckles’s and the workers’ attacks continued for a bit without either side giving up. Eckles’s victim gasped for air, slowly dying, all while Eckles’s skin tore open from the continuous whipping. I can’t stand by while a man dies. I really didn’t want to use this, but… After a long moment’s hesitation, I pressed the ruby mounted on the ring. “Ngh!” Eckles stiffened immediately, jolting as if he were having a seizure, and slumped to the floor. The worker gasped, huffing and gulping for air. Purple-faced and freed from Eckles’s clutches, he darted away. I approached Eckles where he was trembling on all fours. “W-wait!” the slave trader called out in warning, but I ignored him. Eckles groaned, glaring at me with unveiled hostility, despite the crippling pain he was no doubt in. The closer I got, the brighter the threatening letters floating above his head glowed. [Affection: 0%], they read. I crouched in front of him and gripped his chin to lift his drooping head. “Eckles.” I made eye contact, calling his name quietly as his eyes glinted at me with hatred. I could tell he intended to kill me as soon as he recovered from the choker’s effects. I can’t take him to the manor like this. Biting my lip, I considered briefly before unclasping my mask. “Look at me, Eckles,” I said. I could think of no other way to calm him except praying he would come to understand his current situation. “Look into the face of the mistress who paid a hundred million gold for you.” Moving the mask away, I could tell the exact moment he saw my face. His pupils dilated for a moment, perhaps because Penelope’s seductive beauty was so out of place among the stark cells of the slave house. I looked him right in the eyes. “Don’t mistake my paying an exorbitant sum for you as me just throwing around money. Under normal circumstances, no noble, however crazy they may be, would waste a hundred million on a slave from a conquered foreign nation. Do you understand?” I wasn’t making things up, considering that the last bid for Eckles before I entered the fray was ten million gold. One hundred million was probably enough to purchase a castle on the outskirts of the capital. “Where do you suppose this defiance will get you? You fight, you escape from here, and then what? You have no homeland to return to.” I seemed to have struck a nerve. Eckles gritted his teeth, struggling to shake free from my hold on his chin, but I only gripped harder, forcing him to look at me again. I leveled an intimidating glare at him. “I despise fools who don’t know their place. I saw potential in you, and so I made an investment. That’s the reality of our situation.” I hadn’t invested only money, of course. It had been a lot of hard work to get to this point. “So you’ll have to demonstrate how valuable you are. Prove my money wasn’t spent for nothing.” “…” “Otherwise, I’ll send you back here without a second thought. Is that clear?” I asked, my eyes flashing. To be completely honest, I was surprised at how harsh I sounded. I guess this is just how desperate I am to survive the messed-up game I’ve found myself in. The only way to calm him was to instill in him the cold, hard truth, cruel as it may seem. He was no longer the noble he had once been. Now he was nothing but a slave to be sold. Eckles’s intense stare wavered as he seemed to realize I had bought him for a reason, not just for fun or my entertainment. “Nod if you understand. I need to get home quickly,” I said. It took him a long moment, but he eventually gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. And thankfully, his affection remained unchanged. That’s good enough for me. “A-are you hurt?” the slave trader asked, hesitantly approaching after I’d replaced my mask and risen to my feet. He gripped his whip tightly like a lifeline. “You,” I called. “Y-yes! I-if there’s anything you need at all, I—” I nodded at Eckles with my chin as he staggered to his feet. “Release him from his shackles.” “Wh-what?” the slave trader stuttered. “I said release him.” “B-but this slave is—” he said in protest, though I didn’t let him finish. “Leave the cuffs and choker; remove the ankle shackles and gag. I’ll be taking him home myself,” I spat irritably. The slave trader gestured to a worker, unable to deny me. Soon, Eckles was free of his restraints, barring the cuffs on his wrists. The workers and trader backed away hurriedly, but Eckles remained still, no longer in a rage. “And you,” I said, pointing at the worker who’d whipped Eckles with the most enthusiasm. “M-me?” he asked. “Strip,” I demanded, ice lacing my voice. “H-huh?” “Give him all your clothes except for your underwear.” While the slave trader and worker stared, aghast, I threw down the pouch of gold coins I’d brought with me. It flopped to the ground at his feet. “And make it quick.” With that, the near-naked Eckles was dressed presentably enough to not cause a stir on the streets outside. Sunrise was beginning to paint the sky gold by the time I emerged from the auction house with Eckles trailing behind me. It had been a tense, sleepless night, and I was thoroughly exhausted. “Haah…” I sighed heavily when I noticed that dawn was breaking. I’d managed to make my way here against all odds, but getting back to the manor? That was another challenge entirely. “All right, follow me,” I ordered, glancing back at Eckles. He said nothing. It wasn’t an acceptable response from a slave, but I didn’t have the energy to rebuke him. I led him into the first alley I could find after exiting the auction house, wanting to find the main road so I could ask for directions. The alleyway twisted and curved, and just as I was turning yet another corner, a large crowd rushed at us. “There they are!” yelled a voice. The narrow path was completely blocked by a wall of men. “Hello there.” A man I didn’t recognize emerged from the sea of people and greeted me. He was short and heavyset. “Who are you?” I asked guardedly. The leader laughed as if I’d said something ridiculous. “Ha! You don’t recognize me?” “Am I supposed to?” I asked, derision bleeding into my voice. “Why, I am the famous Kluy—” “M-Master!” interrupted one of his lackeys, eyeing him nervously in an attempt to prevent him from proudly revealing who he was. The man cleared his throat, realizing his mistake. “Ahem. I’ve been waiting here for a while because…” He trailed off dramatically. “…” “I want you to hand over that slave,” he revealed, his eyes traveling to Eckles. It suddenly came back to me—this was the guy who, along with the old lady, had been one of the last bidders. “Eckles, stand behind me.” I positioned myself in front, hiding him from greedy eyes. A master should know how to protect those in their care. I was his mistress now, so I needed to be brave and handle this myself. There was, of course, an ulterior motive behind my actions, too. This could be a chance to gain affection. The man’s thugs looked intimidating, but I doubted the situation would escalate much. I’m the only daughter of the powerful House Eckhart, after all. My internal pep talk over, I looked down my nose haughtily. “Are you forgetting that I just bought him for a hundred million gold?” I asked. “W-well…” His face immediately flushed an angry red. “I didn’t have that particular amount on me today. I’ll pay you ten million in advance and give you the rest by next week, so—” “One billion.” “E-excuse me?” “I came here fully prepared to outbid the highest offer by tenfold.” “But th-that’s—” I didn’t let him finish. “If your bid had been a hundred million, I’d have gone in for one billion. Which means the final value of this slave is one billion gold.” “That’s nonsense! Flat-out coercion!” The pig of a man shrieked at my words. “Coercion? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.” His face turned bright red, like a balloon about to pop. Apparently, he’d assumed I’d part with Eckles easily. And with every refusal of mine, he was becoming all the more upset. “J-just hand him over already! Why are you making this so difficult? Do you have any idea who I am?!” “I think it’s you who should be worrying about who I am,” I countered smoothly. I was prepared to remove my mask if necessary, since I had given Derrick’s gold button to the slave trader and had no other means of identifying myself. My dark-pink hair and turquoise eyes would immediately clue him in as to who I was. I moved to do so, but the large man was faster. “Why, you impudent bitch!” With a gust of air, his enormous palm came flying toward my face. I realized a moment too late and tried to back away. “Aaargh!” The pig’s hand came to a halt in front of my nose, bent at an unnatural angle, held there by an arm that had shot out from behind me. Wasn’t Eckles wearing handcuffs? I stared blankly in wonder. “Ow! Hrgh!” The man cried in pain. “Jack! Jack, kill…kill them both!” he ordered one of his men at the top of his lungs, cradling his broken wrist. Polite hands nudged me backward. “Please stay back,” Eckles said, and what followed next was a second round of the violence I’d witnessed at the auction house. Screams upon screams, the crack of broken bones filling the alley—the wave of opponents seemed to pose no threat to Eckles. With every one of his movements, multiple thugs were thrown to the ground with a sickening splat, the sounds of battle bone-chilling. “Ngh…” I backed away hesitantly. This was different from sitting safely in the audience and watching him fight some hyenas for his life. This was a massacre. Blood splattered and flesh split with every swing of his hands, and I felt my chest tighten at the crimson red staining my vision, reminded of the crown prince’s beheading of the assassin at the palace. The same terror from back then washed over me now, the same metallic stench filling my nose. I’m scared… I began to tremble, clinging to the wall, as Eckles continued to slaughter the men like some kind of killing machine. The fight was over before it had even begun. The large pig of a man sat slumped among the bloody bodies of his men, stock still with the same look of horror that no doubt painted my own face. A dark spot formed under him and began to grow into a yellow puddle. I didn’t have the capacity to be disgusted, instead rooted in place as Eckles approached me. His handcuffs were destroyed, hanging limply from his wrists, and sticky blood dripped down his arms and hands. I gasped for air, terrified of the expressionless man with ashen-brown hair before me. How did I dare to threaten him earlier? Luckily, I hadn’t removed my mask; otherwise, he would have seen the look of pure fear I wore. “…Mistress,” Eckles said after a pause, falling to his knees at my feet. I was still processing the sight when he continued, “I killed every last one of them.” His gray eyes stared up at me intently as he pushed his face against one of my hands. “Please praise me, Mistress.” He rubbed his cheek against my palm like a puppy, the friction warming my cold fingers. I was too overwhelmed to realize the hand he was nuzzling was the one that wore the control ring. Frozen in place, I stared down at the top of his head. [Affection: 18%] Choosing him had been the correct decision.