I hated to admit it, but it was thanks to being dragged along by that lady’s...no, that shameless writer’s shameless tastes. The only reason I could manage to live at all was because of the income from the jobs that shameless writer arranged.
I was truly, deeply grateful. But that shameless writer was a shameless demon! Too faithful to her tastes that made her a true demon! Especially those 18+ novel illustrations she commissioned, demanding they be kept secret even from her master. The look on her face when she checked that work was utterly...no, shamelessly depraved; a slack-jawed, sickening expression. And yet, she showed no mercy.
But this was my own fault. I was the one who’d kept running away, the one who’d kept hurling abuse and insults at a lady of one of the Four Great Ducal Houses for so long.
Well, the actual lady I’d kept mocking and looking down on was multitalented and incredibly sharp. She was a genius mage who’d inherited her father’s talent, building wealth and connections solely through her own power. She simply ignored the evaluations and malice from everyone around her because she didn’t care. She was a wildly free spirit who poured all her talent into whatever interested her.
I wished she’d rein in that shamelessness just a little, to allow my sense of guilt to fade. But of course, I kept that thought buried and faithfully continued fulfilling her shameless orders.
I’d never truly considered any path other than knighthood—and yet it seemed the work of an artist suited me well.
Of course, the lady I was supposed to atone to and receive punishment from was genuinely delighted. But beyond that, the letters of goodwill I received—not love letters, but fan mail of sorts—brought me more joy than I ever could have imagined. They gave me a sense of purpose. And while I’d signed the standard confidentiality agreement an artist should have, no binding magic had been used on it. The oath mark on my right shoulder wouldn’t activate unless I deliberately used magic or physical force to commit violence.
Given all the rude, condescending things I’d done to the lady, she probably trusted me about as much as a snake trusted another snake. Or maybe those two guardians she’d been assigned were the only people who truly mattered to her.
When I was first dragged into that training room, I’d refused to accept becoming a commoner. I’d been pretty defiant, I thought—I’d even tried to punch Yust several times. Each time, though, I got punched in the gut before I could land a blow. Or he’d put me in a headlock from behind and knock me out cold.
Whenever I woke up and only Lady Robur was there, I was almost always trussed up like a turkey. I was made to stand in front of a mirror to memorize how I looked, but I didn’t understand the point. I did manage to learn how to draw, though.
“An artist?” Mira’s puzzled voice startled me. Right, I’d kept that a secret... Ah well, I’d already said it now. Couldn’t be helped. I’d worried Mira, but I decided to keep the part about the lady being a writer hidden for now.
“Ah, I’d prefer you keep this quiet, but actually, this studio was arranged for me by Lady Robur using her connections. It’s my workroom. Right now, I’m making a living by drawing illustrations for novels and stuff like that...” I showed her the file containing the bound illustrations, and Mira jumped to her feet.
“Th-This, this, this, this drawing?! No way, Heinz, you—you’re the artist?!” The bag she’d been holding on her lap fell to the floor, spilling its contents everywhere.
“Whoa, you’re overreacting. Guess this novel really is famous, huh?” As I reached to gather the scattered notebooks, my hand froze.
Huh? This jumble of words... Was this some fanfic of a novel written by that scandalous author? And it had that rose-themed obsessive vibe... The kind that reeked of rot...
“Eek! D-Don’t look... D-Did you see anything?!”
I gently picked up the notebook, snapped it shut, and swiftly handed it back to Mira. “Nah, didn’t see a thing. Don’t worry about it, I didn’t see anything.”
“I-Is that so?”
Seeing Mira visibly relieved, I firmly vowed to myself I wouldn’t pry any further...
“Um, can I meet Lady Robur?” she asked.
“Wh-Why?!”
She wanted me to introduce her to that writer? The one devoted to spreading the gospel of...well, not specifically the cult of roses, but every indecent genre under the sun?!
“I want to tell the lady about the matter of the church,” she said, “and also... I caused a lot of misunderstandings and was rude... I want to apologize...”
Oh, that was why! Well, in that case...
“Also... I kind of feel like I could relate to the lady, and if we talked, we might become better friends...”
Wasn’t that just dragging the indecent writer into an inescapable swamp of indecent rottenness?! I absolutely wouldn’t say that out loud, though.
“Oh!” my master’s voice suddenly cut in. “Well then, I’m taking supplies to Lady Robur in two days. Let’s go together!”
“M-Master?!”
He burst into the room all excited. He’d definitely been eavesdropping outside the door, hadn’t he?!
“Ah, yes! I look forward to it! Um...big sister?”
Don’t go blushing like that, Mira! My master is the older sister here! I thought.
“Oh, how delightful! I look forward to working with you!” my master said with a wink. I knew it was already too late...
Little did I know back then that years later, while illustrating a novel by some up-and-coming rose-themed novelist, I’d find myself reflecting wistfully: “That moment was the start of it all.”