While this world had become the stage for an otome game, we weren’t actually inside the game. Since the future would change according to our actions there were no game compliant forces at work.
And yet, the very moment that I knew I had to beware of the mitsudomoe bad ending, I was informed that the last person involved in it, the Flamefield Empire’s princess, was interested in me.
I didn’t get it, at all.
I was born in this country, so I had never been in contact with the princess from the neighboring empire. And yet, she had taken an interest in me. What on earth was going on?
“Young Master Ernest, do you know why the princess of the Flamefield Empire would be interested in me? I have absolutely no idea.”
“You have no idea? Do you not have even an ounce of self awareness? There’s no way that you don’t know what kind of place that empire is.”
When he told me this, I was reminded of the Flamefield Empire’s distinctive features. I heard that the Empire’s climate was much warmer than Ephenear Kingdom’s, just like its name suggested. It was also said that they prefered well-ventilated buildings, and often wore airy, cool clothing because of that. And, most importantly, it was a region with very advanced magic.
…Wait a minute, magic?
Come to think of it, I had heard that the Royal family even consulted the neighboring country about Magical Overcharge Illness. But even that empire couldn’t find a method to save Fol.
And yet, someone from a country where magic wasn’t as advanced had found a way to cure her. Knowing that, it wasn’t odd that the princess would become interested in the person responsible.
“Then, the princess is curious about the matter concerning Magical Overcharge Illness?”
“Yes, how to release one’s own magical powers outside of the body. It sounds easy when said like that, but to actually execute it is extremely difficult. It appears that she had never heard of a skill like that.”
“…I see.”
This world was based on the medieval era of my previous world. In order for multiple things to seem dazzling and resplendent for the sake of the story, some magical equipment did exist, but, when it came to general magical techniques, it was on the same level as my previous world‘s techniques of centuries prior.
For example, even my older sister, who had been an ordinary person in my previous world, would be considered a specialist here when it came to magic. Since I had majored in magic in my previous world, it was no wonder that I would be seen as something extraordinary, even from the point of view of an empire that excelled in magic.
But, if I were to be honest, this was nothing but a trivial matter. While I didn’t intend on disclosing my memories of my previous world, I didn’t intend on hiding my abilities by all means possible either. I might be too conspicuous, but, if I conducted myself skillfully, I would be beneficial to my Lady.
Therefore, the issue was that I was sure that the princess who had taken an interest in me was the villainous daughter of the Flamefield Empire route in ‘The Eve of the Festival’, Her Highness the seventh Princess, Charlotte. Of course, since there were bound to be several princesses, there was also the possibility that it was someone else, but…
“Young Master Ernest, who is this princess you speak of?”
“Her Highness, Princess Charlotte.”
Figures.
As things had progressed this far, the real surprise would be if she were actually a different princess. Or rather, in this situation, I might even feel relieved that the number of people involved hadn’t increased any further.
“I have a message for you from Her Highness, Princess Charlotte. She said that she’s eager to talk to you while she’s studying abroad here. I’ve already spoken to Sophia about it, but make sure to keep it in mind.”
“Understood.”
It seemed that I had no choice but to get involved with Princess Charlotte. My mitsudomoe bad ending glimmered on the horizon, but I had to prevent it by any means possible. To top it all, it also seemed that I had to pay scrupulous attention so that Lady Sophia wouldn’t fall into darkness.
***
On the grounds of the Londobell Royal Academy, there was an area where clubroom buildings were lined up next to each other. Although nominally they were designated for school club activities, many of them were locations owned by factions. They were being lent out; the sizes ranging from a single classroom to even people who borrowed a whole plot of land and built a residence there.
Young Master Ernest, the second son of the Rosenberg Marquis household, belonged to a faction that owned one of these residences.
No, saying it like that would be inaccurate. Young Master Ernest’s faction building was precisely the one that prided itself on being the largest on the Londobell Royal Academy’s grounds. It was a building that belonged to the First Prince of the Ephenear Kingdom, Prince Lancelot.
If one thought of it as a mansion, it wasn’t that big. However, it was big enough to have permanently stationed servants there, and it had everything from a party venue to guest rooms. It was a construction of the highest quality, with top-notch furnishing.
In the main hall of this building, a bittersweet melody floated across the venue intended to hold parties. The melody was produced by a grand piano that had been brought in through air transport a few days earlier from the Flamefield Empire.
Sitting behind the piano stool was a young nobleman with platinum blond hair. Ernest let his fingers dance atop the keys, a yearning expression on his face while sweat dripped down his forehead. This sight made his personal maids let out sweet, impressed sighs.
Ernest was completely immersed in the music, building a sanctuary no one could easily trespass into. However, there was one young man who invaded this sanctuary of his. He stepped onto the thick carpet, approaching. When the maids spotted him, they stepped to the side nonchalantly, creating a passage for him.
“I thought I heard some unfamiliar noise. So it was you, as I thought.”
“Lancelot? You’re late.” The son of a Marquis replied bluntly to the First Prince’s friendly address, without halting his movements.
Under normal circumstances, this exchange would be absolutely unforgivable, but no one was reproaching him. Everyone here knew that Lancelot allowed this.
“As if the reason I hurried to get here wasn’t you. So, what’s this instrument that you’re playing, Ernest?”
“It was created in the Flamefield Empire and it’s called a grand piano, or simply a piano.”
Ernest continued to play without stopping, even as he continued to explain. However, this behaviour wasn’t meant to disrespect Lancelot. It was a result of Ernest concluding, because he understood the First Prince’s nature, that the Prince was showing interest in the performance. Of course, it was needless to mention that this conclusion was backed by an appropriate degree of familiarity.
“But why did you suddenly start playing?”
It wasn’t just Ernest; any child born into a noble family should be able to play an instrument to a socially acceptable standard. However, Ernest’s skills far surpassed ‘socially acceptable’.
“You know that my little sister excels in violin, right?”
“Yeah. I’ve only heard about it like a million times now.”
Ernest and Lancelot had known each other since elementary school, and they were, so to speak, childhood friends. Therefore, Lancelot had witnessed Ernest’s doting daily on his little sister firsthand.
When they first met and were just enrolled in elementary school, he didn’t particularly talk about her, but he began mentioning his little sister about a year later, and he had continued ever since.
According to him, she was an angel that descended from heaven to grace them with her presence in their family. Her etiquette was flawless and, when she played, he said that even the servants would cease to work and instead listen to her performance, enchanted. She looked like a saintness when she danced, the only one showered in light as if favoured by the gods, etc. etc.
Honestly speaking, Lancelot had been quite annoyed by Ernest’s sister complex… but then, a few years ago, an incident happened that ended up changing his perception of it.
Disguised, his little brother had danced with Ernest’s little sister at Lancelot’s own birthday party. Since he observed their dance, he was forced to understand that Ernest’s boasting of his little sister wasn’t exaggerated.
Her physical appearance wasn’t the only extraordinary thing about her. Her movements were so refined that he wouldn’t think her his junior, and just a single smile of hers held beauty capable of wrecking a country. But what he was most astonished by were the details of her dance with Alforth.
Alforth was quite pampered growing up, so when compared to Lancelot himself, who had been strictly trained, his inexperience stood out. Therefore, he definitely couldn’t be called skilled at dancing, either. To be honest, Alforth had stepped on Sophia’s foot many times.
That was not unexpected, but what followed next was. As time went on, their dance became smoother, despite the fact that Alforth’s lead was in no way improving rapidly.
The country’s dances had boys taking the lead while the girls followed. Therefore, it could be said that, if the boy’s lead was unskilled, it was pretty much impossible for the two people to dance in sync. There were exceptions where the girls would end up stealing the lead, but, if that were to happen, it would be obvious to spot. But Sophia didn’t look as if she was leading. Assuming that was the case, there was only one other option Lancelot could think of.
Sophia was predicting Alforth’s lead. This was quite an unorthodox practice in which a person could read the other’s movements. Lancelot didn’t doubt the ability itself, because his older cousin, Folcenia, had also mastered this technique. So at that time, Lancelot thoughts were as follows:
Is that Miss Sophia? Ernest’s boasting sure wasn’t for nothing. I couldn’t blame Alforth if he’s charmed by her. But even so, Fol is still way more gorgeous and wonderful. While the object of his doting was his cousin, Lancelot could still be classified as a person with a sister complex as well.
Enough of that. For now, let’s get back to the story. As it would appear, the reason why Ernest had a piano flown in was in order to perform a violin and piano duet with his little sister. Actually, Cyril had already brought a piano in, and he had also stolen Sophia’s first duet, but perhaps because it would sadden him, Ernest hadn’t been informed of that fact at that point.
“Have you had a piano flown in just for that?”
“That’s right. I’m the only one in this country who knows how to play the piano.”
As his delicate fingers played out a melody of love for his little sister, Ernest whispered,
“By the way…”
Although his voice was drowned out by the music, it barely managed to reach Lancelot’s ears. In that instant, Lancelot perfectly understood Ernest’s meaning.
“It’s pretty interesting. It resembles a pipe organ, but it’s completely different, isn’t it?”
Lancelot placed his hand on top of Ernest’s shoulder and drew his face near, as if taking great interest in the piano. Two handsome young boys were huddled close together inside the party venue, illuminated by spotlights. This scene made the maids unspeakably excited. Using this situation as a cover, the two of them began their private talk.
“I’m sure that you’ve heard about this already as well, but His Highness, Prince Harold, and Her Highness, Princess Charlotte of the Flamefield Empire, are hoping to continue their studies abroad here.”
“The Royal family coming abroad, huh? In other words, they’re here for that, right?”
Although they were both members of the Royal family, the two were equals in the sense that neither of them had a direct claim to the imperial throne. There weren’t many objectives for such members of royalty to go study abroad. When considering that they were a prince and a princess, one of those objectives was very likely.
That is, they were testing the grounds for a political marriage.
“I fear that, most likely, Prince Harold’s objective is…”
“Yeah, without a doubt, it’s…”
The two nodded in agreement-
“—definitely my little sister, Sophia.”
“—my cousin, Fol.”
These two uttered two different names simultaneously. In one aspect, they were absolutely the same: they were both siscons. Either way, the two glared at each other in disbelief at their differing opinions.
“What are you saying, Lancelot? Yes, Sophia does fall behind when it comes to social status, but she is equally capable. And in terms of beauty, my little sister serves a crushing victory there, doesn’t she?”
“Please, stop joking, Ernest. Social status or capability are just trivial matters. In kindness and beauty, Fol is naturally the ultimate winner.”
“Stop messing around, Sophia is much cuter!”
“No way, Fol is more beautiful!”
‘How about saying that Sophia is cute and Fol is beautiful?’ There was no one to pose such a perfectly sensible question. Incidentally, no one retorted that, when it came to a marriage of convenience, wasn’t it social standing and ability, if anything, that were the most important?
“Well… given the circumstances, even if we decide who is cuter afterwards, there is no doubt that at least one of them—or perhaps both—are marriage candidates.”
Ernest’s number one was Sophia but, excluding her, he recognized that Folcenia would probably be brought up as a subject of this political marriage as well.
Lancelot too–
“You’re right. Setting aside the matter of who’s the best one, they are both very likely to be candidates.”
He had no doubts that Folcenia was the best, but if he excluded her, he recognized that Sophia would probably be brought up as a candidate for this political marriage.
Therefore–
“Since that’s the case, how about we cooperate on this matter together by helping each other out, within the scope of possibility?”
“I have no objections. As if I would let Fol become a tool for political marriage!”
Like this, the two powerful siscons formed a pact with each other. However, there was a fact that couldn’t be misunderstood. The two were in no way incompetent. Rather, it would be more accurate to say that the only flaw these two extremely capable people had was being siscons.
The pact that they formed with each other was also not meant to block a political marriage. It was difficult to shut down a political marriage itself if it wasn’t detrimental to national interests. Their main goal was to exclude their precious family members from becoming a part of this marriage of convenience.
In other words—
Ultimately, neither would be loath to present their close friend’s dear family member as the scapegoat. However, if they did that, they would end up dragging each other down. Therefore, they were to cooperate within the scope of possibility—rather, the point of their arrangement was to avoid the mutual destruction that would eventually result from getting into each other’s path.
If that was the case, then what was the correct thing to do? The two contemplated this and, before long, the corners of Ernest’s lips curved up.
“Come to think of it, Her Highness, Princess Charlotte, is interested in Cyril.”
“…In Cyril? Right, because of his magical skills?”
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that the Flamefield Empire was a country that specialized in magic. A mere butler had been able to produce a technique that was impossible even for a country like that. Her getting interested was only natural.
“…Don’t tell me you’re intending on presenting Cyril as the scapegoat?”
When Prince Lancelot considered this possibility, he frowned. A political marriage wasn’t the only way to strengthen the bonds between the two countries. One could also strengthen the bonds by fulfilling the other country’s wishes. Although magic wasn’t considered that important in this country, it was the most valuable skill in the Flamefield Empire. Therefore, it was possible that Cyril could be an even better match for this political marriage.
“Are you displeased with that? Even though you believed that Cyril’s mere existence was a hindrance?”
“Certainly, he’s someone who seduced Fol, and someone I have to keep an eye on, but…”
If it wasn’t for Cyril, Fol wouldn’t have much time left. It was possible that they wouldn’t have been able to do anything and Fol would have died in despair. Lancelot understood very well that it was thanks to Cyril that Fol had hope again.
“He has been of great service to us. If what you’re saying is that you want to sacrifice him, I won’t allow it.”
Lancelot’s normally serene green eyes blazed like a flame as he glared at Ernest, his so-called friend. When Ernest noticed his gaze, he stopped playing. A moment of silence stretched between them—and then, Ernest suddenly laughed.
“Don’t worry. I consider Cyril someone who has been of great service to me as well.”
If it wasn’t for Cyril, Sophia would have continued to be bullied by that maid. There was also a possibility that her personality could have gotten warped because of it, too. Ernest clearly understood that it was thanks to Cyril that Sophia had become so cheerful.
“I don’t plan on causing him harm. Above all else, Sophia would resent me if I were to do that.”
“I also don’t want to be resented by Fol, no thanks. But then, what do you want to do?”
“That’s easy. We should prepare some benefits for Cyril.”
The Flamefield Empire was quite meritocratic. Even though they had a royal family, it wasn’t unusual for them to accept members of lower-ranked noble families either. As it could be expected, he hadn’t heard of a low rank noble marrying into the Royal family, but there were many other ways of doing things.
“Don’t tell me you’re intending on making him a noble? …Is Cyril that exceptional?”
“He is. My little sister’s butler is brilliant. If he were to have been born to a different family, he might even surpass me. But, precisely because of that, our plan has to go well.”
Granting Cyril a huge benefit would please Sophia and Fol, who felt indebted to him, as well. With serious expressions on their faces, the two of them began their discussion to put this plan into motion.