The Threads Begin to Tangle
Suddenly playing the condescending snob—now that was a proper villainess performance. At this rate, it would be stranger if any goodwill toward me were left at all.
If things went well, I might actually get myself banished. Head out to the sticks, find a little house, farm a bit… that didn't sound half bad. Peaceful, even.
Lunel had trailed along at my side the whole way, yet she hadn't spoken a single word. We parted like that—awkward and distant.
I wanted to offer her some kind of comfort, but consoling her as a villainess made no sense whatsoever. There was nothing I could do.
The moment we separated, I went straight home and collapsed onto my bed.
Haa… I'm exhausted… I hadn't even been out that long, and look at the state I was in. Were all girls this dramatic?
I truly had no idea. At least she'd taken it relatively well. If she hadn't, I might have lost my mind right along with her.
I was about to just lie there and stare at the ceiling when my eyes caught on a piece of paper by the bedside.
"Hm?"
I tilted my head. A letter? Why leave a letter here?
Judging by how crumpled it was, whoever had read it had gotten irritated on the spot and flung it aside.
I picked it up and skimmed the contents—and what a piece of work it was. It danced around the point with elaborate courtesy, essentially saying they were being terribly generous looking after someone as magically talentless as me.
That needlessly long letter boiled down to one simple thing.
"A maid is coming this evening…?"
Even if I was a young lady of the house, they couldn't stand the idea of me sprawled out alone in a mess of a home. So they were sending a maid…
"You've got to be kidding me. Why is she showing up here?"
The maid's name was Lora. In the game, she stayed at the villainess's side, attending and watching over her—until she finally couldn't take it anymore, betrayed her, and switched to the heroine's camp.
According to the lore, they'd been childhood friends. But after enduring so much villainous behavior, she'd eventually gotten fed up and walked away.
Anyone who could cut off a friend that easily probably wasn't the most trustworthy person to begin with.
And why was a childhood friend working as a maid? Simple enough. She came from one of the branch families under the house. In other words, Lora was something of a young lady in her own right.
It was almost funny. They'd stuck an ordinary young lady into a maid's uniform and parked her next to her friend—only for that friend to behave so atrociously that even she finally turned traitor.
I let out a long sigh. Under normal circumstances it wouldn't have been a problem. But right now? Not so much. Because I was the one currently occupying that childhood friend's body.
Given the childhood-friend setup, the two of them must have been quite close. Then Eriana—talentless at magic, half out of her mind—had gone on enough rampages that Lora finally got sick of it and cut ties.
That was probably why they'd been apart. And the fact that she was coming to me now meant the family had issued some kind of order. I didn't know what that order was, but it certainly wasn't anything good for me.
If it had been something good, the game's Eriana never would have ended up the way she did.
"All right… so what do I do?"
One thing was certain: Lora was coming to my house. As a childhood friend, she'd know me inside and out. If I tried some half-baked performance, she'd see through it instantly.
Of course she would. We'd supposedly grown up together! The moment she noticed something off about me, she might report it to the family—and then I'd have a real problem on my hands.
Trying to clumsily act like Eriana was out of the question. It wasn't as if I had the skills of some famous actress…
Haa… I'm going to lose it. Why send someone else to my house instead of just leaving me alone? They clearly didn't care that much—if they'd actually acknowledged me as family, they would have kept me at the estate. Why dump me in some other city?
I racked my brains for a long while. The conclusion I finally reached was simple.
"At this point… I've got no choice but to go with amnesia…!"
If some stranger stood in front of a childhood friend and tried to impersonate her, she'd catch on immediately. There was no other way.
Just then, a crisp knock sounded at my ear. I jumped and stared at the door.
"Are you in there, my lady?"
A voice that sounded faintly cool. From the other side of the door came another knock—she was waiting for me to open it. So she'd arrived after all.
The letter had said evening, and the sun was starting to set. Right on time.
Okay. In… out… in… out… I breathed slowly, steadying myself, and approached the door.
Then I slid it open.
"My lady? You haven't even sent a letter lately—what's going on with you? And what on earth have you done to your hair?"
She spoke to me from outside the doorway, and the moment I saw her I just… stared blankly.
Her long black hair was tied neatly back in a single tail, and her eyes held a distinctly cool light. Her skin was a warm, sun-kissed brown, and there was something strangely alluring about her presence—yet the clothes she wore were immaculately proper.
A maid's uniform that hugged the full swell of her chest. A waist that cinched in sharply, every curve on display. The wide skirt did a decent job of concealing her figure, but I had a feeling that if you peeled it off, the results would be downright dangerous.
Even in the game she'd looked a bit risqué, but as a supporting character I hadn't paid much attention. Seeing her in the flesh was on a whole different level.
I swallowed hard and kept staring, and she tilted her head before starting to step inside. Ah—right. I hadn't cleaned the place.
"And why is the house in this state, my lady?"
I glanced at Lora, who was giving me a sidelong look, scrambled for something to say, drew a breath—and tossed out a single line.
"Hello. So you're Lora? Ahaha… sorry. My head's a complete mess right now. I don't know who you are."
"…What?"
She froze solid, staring into my eyes. There was something so soaked in fear about her gaze that it looked almost pitiful.
"What are you talking about, my lady? Do you honestly think I'll play along with a prank like this? Suddenly your head's a mess—what are you trying to pull?!"
Huh. Her tone just shifted. It was like she'd been forcing herself into polite concern at first, and then her true feelings came bursting out.
"Um… L-Lora?"
"You think I'd fall for a stupid stunt like this? For a dense little idiot, you sure put some effort into the con. But it's not working on me!"
Okay, this was escalating faster than I'd expected. I was genuinely starting to panic. Watching me stand there dumbfounded and speechless, she finally crumpled and sank to the floor.
"Ah—Lora!"
I rushed forward and caught her. Whoa… her figure was absolutely insane. If I'd still been a guy, I might have fallen for her on the spot.
Passing out out of nowhere… wasn't that a bit of an overreaction? Then again, thinking about it, maybe it made perfect sense. To Lora, I was the childhood friend she'd grown up with since we were little.
I scooped her up into my arms and laid her on the bed. A spring breeze drifted in through the wide-open window, cooling the sweat on my skin just a little.
Haa… honestly, if I'd known it would go like this, maybe I should have found another way. But with a brain like mine, I couldn't come up with anything better.
I sat quietly at the edge of the bed until Lora slowly rubbed her eyes and sat up. That dazed, lost look was still there—as if she were desperately trying to deny what was happening right in front of her.
"Lora? Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm not okay. How are you so calm? I was so worried I volunteered to come all the way out here myself—and then my friend suddenly says she doesn't remember me. The room's a disaster, and what happened to your hair?"
Wait, was she my friend or my mom? I appreciated the concern, but this felt a little extreme.
"I really did lose my memories. I woke up all of a sudden in a room I didn't recognize, and I was so shocked I didn't know what to do."
"Nngh…"
She looked like she might start crying, and it stabbed at my chest a little—but I'd already come this far. There was no backing out now. I'd started this. I had to see it through.
"I only knew your name was Lora because it was written on the letter. If it hadn't been, I probably would have keeled over from the shock."
"No way… so it isn't some weird joke. It's real."
She was clearly reeling. If she'd been even a little sharper about it, she might have wondered how someone claiming amnesia still knew ordinary things so well.
Well—lucky for me.
"Still, I'm glad you're here, Lora. Having a friend who cares this much about me… maybe I'll recover before long."
The moment I said that, Lora shot me a strangely cool look. Huh…? Did I say something wrong?
"You're right. It really does seem like you don't have Eriana's memories. The Eriana I know was never the kind of friend who'd speak that kindly."
Wait… that's how she took it?
I was starting to feel a little dejected…
"Hey, that seems a bit harsh."
"Harsh? The Eriana I know would be yelling at me by now, demanding to know why I was even here. The fact that you're not doing anything is exactly what's strange."
Could you even call someone like that a friend? Sure, the situation was annoying enough to justify some irritation, but something about this felt off.
I scratched my head as I listened to stories of my predecessor's rampages, and I had to admit I felt a twinge of guilt.
Of course, the me sitting here now was a completely different person from Eriana, so that was that and this was this… but it was still pretty weird.
"Ahaha… I-I see."
She looked at me in silence, then gave a single nod. Apparently the old Eriana had been a much nastier piece of work.
"Anyway… what am I supposed to tell the family…"
"Ah, about that. Maybe it's better if we keep it quiet?"
The air in the room went cold in an instant—as if I'd said something unspeakable.
Lora looked up at me, the corners of her mouth turning down. I was still flustered by the suddenly rigid atmosphere when she answered.
"Eriana always hated the family. Maybe… a little of that is still left in you."
"Huh?"
"No. It's nothing."
She tossed out that cryptic line and then exhaled a long breath of relief—which somehow only left me more confused than before.