Prologue: Too Charming for My Own Good
Frankly speaking, in my previous life, I wasn't someone overflowing with virtues.
My looks were average, too. An utterly ordinary height of 175 centimeters, a face that was just about passable in the mirror, and proportions that looked vaguely plausible once clothes were thrown on.
My life was ordinary as well. I got through school without causing any major trouble or deeply troubling my parents, lucked into a decently prestigious university, studied what interested me, and pulled off reasonably good grades. Sure, job hunting was a worry as a liberal arts major in a tough market, but thankfully I had a bunch of professors who liked me, so I was mulling over which grad school to pick.
Then I died. A slight deviation from the ordinary, that.
The cause of death was, fortunately, ordinary enough. Walking down the street with earphones in, grinding a game of League, and bam—truck to the face. Happens all the time, right? Though I do kinda want to brag that my final match was an 11-kill Demacia.
Anyway, that was me: a guy who lived an utterly ordinary life and checked out the same way. I'd probably go down in history as just another unremarkable twenty-something college student, nothing to boast about or flaunt.
Well, there was one thing I hoped people would remember me for. The guy who always had a ton of fun stories to tell, the smooth-talking friend everyone liked being around. I'd worked hard everywhere I went to be that likable presence, so if that's how I stuck in people's minds, I figured it'd be a life without regrets.
Luckily, in this second chance at life that fate handed me, I didn't stray far from that path either. Even when things got messy and I ended up as a hostage to the Empire in place of the prince—
I made everyone I met happy, spun entertaining tales left and right, and poured effort into winning them over.
That was all it took—
"Victoria, it seems Prince Ian enjoys chatting with me more. He's not the type to mix with a bloodthirsty barbarian like you, sis."
"Bullshit, Chloe. He'd prefer talking to an upstanding general like me over some scheming, backroom-plotting sneak like you. Right, Prince Ian?"
"Where is Prince Ian? Didn't we have plans for tea time to discuss classical philosophy with Us today?"
"Ian! Skipping workouts and hiding somewhere? Get your ass out here!!"
"...I've got mountains of paperwork to handle, and Prince Ian is nowhere to be seen."
"I must see Prince Ian! He's the only talent who can carry on the research I've devoted my life to!!!"
Apparently, I'd overdone it.
Being seen as too good a person was turning into a real problem...