Fatal Error

Knock, knock.

I had only just undone Ella's restraints and driven her out. I was settling onto the bed, ready to chase down sleep, when a light knock sounded at the door.

"Your Highness. May I come in for a moment?"

The one who opened the door and stepped inside was Ceria, her face as expressionless as ever.

She gave the wrecked room a cursory tidying, then came to my bedside and spoke with careful deference.

"Before you retire, there is one thing I must ask. Why did you conceal your unique ability?"

"Conceal it?"

I let out a hollow, incredulous laugh.

"I didn't hide a thing. Nobody believed me—not even after they saw that transparent tablet. Why should I cling to them and beg them to take my power seriously?"

"..."

"So. Are you going to report every last thing that happened today to Father, the way a secret weapon assigned by His Imperial Majesty ought to?"

At my blunt question, Ceria answered with her back ramrod straight.

"Yes. It is His Imperial Majesty's command. I have no choice but to report."

"If you're going to report it, then report it."

I said it listlessly, my head sunk into the pillow.

"I just wouldn't recommend it."

"Why not?"

"Think it through, Ceria. Even I—the person it actually happened to—couldn't get anyone to believe I had an ability. You think the imperial nobles are going to swallow the word of some mere guard knight? You'll be written off as a lunatic and humiliate yourself for nothing."

At my advice, Ceria's brow drew together by the faintest degree. She offered a counterargument.

"Then would it not suffice if I testified in advance that Ella means to slaughter the noble young ladies at Second Prince Kyle's tea party?"

"Then you'd be in a cell before the day was out."

"...Pardon?"

I sat up and leaned my back against the headboard. Calling to mind my second brother's serpentine nature, I smiled coldly.

"Testify all you like. On the day of the tea party, Ella will kill herself, exactly as I ordered. At first Brother Kyle will be pinned as a murderer with nowhere to turn, left holding the whole of the blame. But once that man learns of your prior testimony, what do you think he'll do?"

"......"

"It's obvious. He'll cut the tail loose. He'll frame you—an imperial handmaid—as the true culprit who colluded with the assassin Ella to stage the entire affair. He'll fabricate the evidence perfectly. In the end, you'll be sentenced to death."

Faced with that cold logic, Ceria closed her mouth.

For a moment those emotionless, ice-blue eyes seemed to waver. Then she nodded, perfectly calm.

"Your Highness is correct. If I move rashly, I will only be caught in Prince Kyle's counterattack. My thinking was shortsighted."

"Right?"

"Yes. I will omit it from the report. Your Highness's approach is far more rational."

A deadpan aide, choosing my logic over the Emperor's own command.

I smiled, satisfied at how cleanly she followed me.

"Then, now that we're perfect accomplices, would you do me one favor?"

"Speak, Your Highness."

"I want to test, from every angle, what happens when I lay an Imprint on someone who's truly, solidly mine—not the way I used it on that assassin earlier."

Not a torture implement. An experiment in the buff granted to someone thoroughly on my side.

Even at that unreasonable demand, Ceria showed only a flicker of surprise before undoing the ties of her apron with perfect composure.

"As Your Highness's guard, it is something I ought naturally to endure. I will gladly serve as your test subject."

"Thanks. But let's do it tomorrow. I'm too sleepy..."

And no wonder. From the very first day the ability awakened, I had engraved Imprint after Imprint on Ella, released them, triggered the penalties, and drawn far too hard on my mana. The moment it ran dry, a vicious fatigue came crashing in.

At my words Ceria calmly retied the apron strings, then drew the soft blanket up over me.

"You've overexerted yourself. Rest well, Your Highness."

Her calm voice was the last thing I heard before I sank into a deep sleep.

And the next morning.

When I lifted my heavy eyelids, the first thing to fill my vision was not the ceiling. It was someone's face.

"Sleep well, our youngest?"

Short reddish-brown hair, and a smile brimming with mischief.

The one lying beside me as if to gather me into her arms was none other than the Fourth Princess—my sister Aria.

"Uh... Sis? You scared me."

I jolted and was just shoving myself up toward the other side of the bed when a soft, full warmth pressed against my back, and a sensual voice drifted over me.

"Oh my. Thrash about like that and you'll hurt yourself, Gun."

I turned my head. The Third Princess, my sister Chloe, lay propped on one elbow in a thin silk dress, gazing at me with open affection.

Perfectly boxed in on both sides. A human sandwich, courtesy of my sisters. Flustered, I looked to Ceria, standing at attention in the corner of the room. She only dipped her head a fraction, expressionless as ever.

"We told Ceria not to bother waking you just to report that we'd come."

"We only lay down beside you for a little while, so we could wait until you woke."

Both of them pinched my cheeks and broke into bright laughter.

"Even so, you scared the life out of me. What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean, what? Our poor youngest got driven out to this dusty pit of a Detached Palace—how were we supposed to sit still? We brought things for washing, and a few daily necessities. And while we were at it, we thought we'd have breakfast together."

Unable to withstand their fussing, I got up and went with them to the Detached Palace's reception room.

A great table had already been laid at its center with a feast lavish enough to drop one's jaw.

Dazzling dishes, as if the imperial palace's finest chefs had been packed into every plate.

"Come now, say ah~, youngest."

Sister Chloe speared a tender cut of meat with her fork and held it to my lips.

I opened my mouth obediently and took it.

"Is it good?"

"Yeah. It's good."

At that docile answer, bright smiles bloomed across both their faces.

As breakfast hit its stride, Sister Aria's cheerful expression grew a little more serious.

"Gun. Don't get comfortable just because you're shut up in the Detached Palace. You never know when those rotten bastards of the First Faction will ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠send an assassin."

"She's right."

Sister Chloe swirled her wine glass and added, coolly,

"That snake of a Second Prince, especially. Even with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you judged powerless, he'll try to erase any future threat. If anything feels off, you contact us. No exceptions. Understood?"

Listening to their blood-chilling warnings, I broke into a cold sweat on the inside.

What do I do. The assassin that Second Prince sent—I turned her into a suicide squad and sent her right back last night.

They had no way of knowing about the bloodshed, or about my insane Imprint tests. In front of them, the best I could do was smile like a gentle lamb.

"Oh, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠come on, you two. It's only been a day since I was confined. What assassin is going to show up already?"

"Even so, there's no harm in being careful."

Sister Aria stroked my hair and spoke with firm resolve.

"Gun, you just stay here. Quietly, and safely. We'll seize power somehow, become Emperor, and pull our youngest back out."

Blind affection—the promise that they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would take power and keep me safe.

I let out a soft laugh at that warmth and shook my head.

"Don't push yourselves, Sis. I like it here more than I expected. It's cozy. Don't go chasing the throne and putting yourselves in danger. Just keep eating with me, like this. I really hate it when my people get hurt."

At my affectionate grumbling, both sisters looked moved and pulled me into a tight embrace.

The warm breakfast came to an end, and I barely managed to soothe my reluctant sisters and see them off.

"Haa..."

The moment the reception room door closed, I dropped into a plush chair as if every last scrap of strength had drained out of me.

The vicious fatigue of emptied mana was rolling back in.

Just then Ceria, who had been clearing the table, approached and delivered her report in that same flat tone.

"Your Highness. Forgotten or not, the Detached Palace is quite a large space. Guarding it and managing it alone would be too much for me, so I intend to select ten maids for cleaning and odd jobs, plus one head maid. Is that acceptable?"

"Yeah. Do whatever you want."

I couldn't fight the drowsiness crashing over me, and waved a hand.

"You know better than I do anyway, Ceria. Just watch out for First Faction plants and pick them properly yourself. I'm leaving the whole management of the Detached Palace to you."

"I will bear it in mind, Your Highness."

"And my sisters woke me all the way up, so I'm going back in for a nap. Unless something actually happens, do not wake me. I mean it."

"Understood. Sleep well."

I shuffled back to my room like a zombie and dove onto the bed.

When I finally opened my eyes, the sun was already sinking. Afternoon.

I stepped out to the reception room to wet my throat and found Ceria with eleven women lined up in formation.

"Your Highness. You're awake."

"You work fast. You've already picked them all?"

"Yes. I composed the staff primarily from His Imperial Majesty's recommendations, though we will need to keep watching to see whether any of them are assassins."

"Hm."

I gave them a cursory once-over and asked Ceria,

"By any chance, can empty mana stones be worked thin as paper?"

"They can, but..."

"Make me about twelve sheets."

"Understood."

Before long Ceria entered my room and held out twelve sheets of thin ore-paper.

"If it isn't presumptuous, may I ask what they are for?"

"A contract."

"Pardon?"

"I want to pour my ability into these and test whether I can enforce rules through them, the way one would with a mana stone."

"Ah..."

"Later I'm going to make every one of those maids sign, too."

I sat at the desk and drew mana up over the thinly spread paper.

Pink authority flowed from my fingertips, seeped in, and became clear lettering.

Having written that far, I lifted the corner of my mouth.

Then I engraved the most vicious shackle of all.

"Perfect."

The paper drank in a faint pink glow and breathed out an unpleasant aura.

Watching from behind, Ceria's eyes wavered.

"Your Highness... this is a perfect contract of enslavement over the soul."

"Right?"

"If one presses a fingerprint or blood to it, does it activate at once?"

"In theory."

I turned the chair and held out one of the finished contracts.

"But if I'm going to bind those spy bitches perfectly tomorrow, I need data on whether it actually works."

"...You want a guinea pig."

"Yeah. Right now, in this Detached Palace, you're the only person I can trust with my neck completely."

At that honeyed persuasion, Ceria's shoulders gave a small flinch.

Without hesitation she drew a dagger and nicked her thumb.

A finger beaded with blood pressed firmly down onto the paper.

Vmmm—!!

The mana soaked into the paper burst outward as if exploding and flew straight for the cleft of Ceria's chest.

"Ngh...!"

A pink geometric pattern blazed vividly across her pale skin.

The remote contract had succeeded, perfectly.

"It worked. How do you feel?"

"For now... I feel no great response."

"No? Then we'd better test it right away."

I propped my chin on my hand and asked, mischievous.

"What's your name? Answer with something completely wrong."

"My name is..."

Ceria considered for a moment, then answered flatly.

"First Prince Leonhardt."

The words had barely left her mouth.

Flash—!!

"Kh, ah...?!"

The pink pattern between her breasts poured out a bewitching light.

Legs that had never known a single break in composure folded under her.

"Haaah...! Nnh, ah, aaah...!"

Violation of Article I. The price of a lie.

Ceria clutched her own breasts in both arms and sank to the floor.

Cheeks cold as ice flushed in an instant, and searing pleasure swallowed her neat, tidy breaths.

"Hnnngh! Y-Your Highness... my, my body feels strange, hik...!"

"Whoa. It actually works!"

I looked down at her rubbing her thighs together and clapped.

"All right. You did well. I'll stop it and release you."

I laid a hand over the pattern between her breasts and willed it.

......

Huh?

"...Your High— haa... haa... it still hasn't, nnh... come undone...!"

The pattern kept flashing, and Ceria's breathing only grew thicker.

No response at all.

The structure was different from Ella's, which I had engraved directly into the skin. Was it because I had bound the soul itself, with paper as the medium?

"Uh... Ceria."

"Haa, yes, Your— haa... nnh!"

"I'm really sorry. This won't release."

The eyes of Ceria, panting through the pleasure, blew wide with shock.

"What...? Wh-what do you mean by...!"

"I think it's because it's a Soul Contract. It's my first time doing the paperwork, so I never set a contract term."

"......"

"A Soul Contract with no term is, uh... bound for life, I think."

My sheepish apology.

In the eyes of Ceria—who had lived her whole life without ever knowing emotion—a deep anger gathered for the first time.

Of course it did. By a mistake of the one master she had trusted, she was now bound for life to a slave contract with a switch for Heat attached.

"Y-Your Highness... are you joking right n— kh, nnh♡!"

Just as she was about to spit out that resentment-laced fury—

Flash—!!

"Hiiiik—♡!!"

An explosive pleasure beyond all comparison to the last slammed through her entire body.

Article III. Harboring rebellion—anger—in one's heart was forbidden as well.

The penalty had stacked and detonated, the price of getting pissed off at me.

"Aaaah! Haaah! No, hnnngh! My, my body...!"

"Hey! Ceria! Don't get angry! If you get pissed at me, it'll go off again!"

My horrified shout did nothing.

"Haaaah! Hnnh, s-stop, ah!"

"Ceria! Relax! Deep breaths! Please, only think good thoughts about me!"

Inside the maddening yoke of a permanent contract, the night of the Detached Palace was burning hot enough to drive a person insane.