The Formulaic Princess
It didn't take long for the two playing chess to notice my presence. I wouldn't know, having never been in actual combat like the other students, but apparently, they could sense a person's "presence." Leo seemed quite adept at concealing his, but I, on the other hand, was not.
"If you were here, you should've said something."
"Well, you two looked like you were having so much fun..."
"What?! I was absolutely not having fun!"
Liar. You were having the time of your life. Anyone else might have been fooled, but they couldn't deceive my eyes. Her grumpy facade hadn't cracked, but it was impossible to miss. Still, if I pressed the matter, Orca would only get embarrassed and change the subject. I decided to play along and let it slide.
"Well, if you say so, I suppose I'll have to believe you."
"...Why does that sound so patronizing?"
"So, what brings you here, Lady Stella?"
Ignoring Orca, who was still muttering in dissatisfaction, I turned my gaze to Stella. I could understand why Leo and Orca were here. Orca visited every single day, and Leo dropped by the counseling room quite often. But Stella was a different story. It wasn't that we had never crossed paths, but was she really in a state of crisis dire enough to seek counseling? That seemed highly unlikely.
Most Academy students possessed an immense amount of pride. It was only natural, considering this institution gathered those who had been hailed as once-in-a-generation geniuses in their respective hometowns. And if one had to name the single proudest individual in the entire Academy, everyone would point to Stella. She was a princess, after all. Naturally, children burdened with such pride avoided counseling like the plague. Of course, things would be different if they were pushed so far into a corner that they had no other choice... but considering the timeline of Stella's main quest, her descent into crisis was still a long way off. The Emperor was still alive and well. There was absolutely no reason for her to be mentally struggling yet.
"I came to see your face, Counselor Ophelia."
"...Me? Whatever for?"
"My homework."
"?"
"...Don't tell me you forgot? You gave me an assignment."
"No, I remember that, but..."
Of course I remembered the assignment. After all, the headmaster had literally just barged into my office shivering, complaining about how creepy she was being. I wasn't so brain-dead that I'd forget something that happened less than twenty-four hours ago. ...But what did that have to do with her showing up here? As I tilted my head, utterly failing to grasp her train of thought, Stella let out a heavy sigh.
"You did forget, didn't you? The deadline you set for that assignment was absurdly vague. 'Until we meet again'?"
"...Ah."
"I heard you never leave this counseling room, so I spared a moment of my time to seek you out."
Come to think of it, I did say something like that. I had handed out the assignment on a whim, so I'd just thrown out a random, careless deadline. Had she sought me out because she realized doing it indefinitely was impossible? Yeah, this was definitely my blunder.
"Homework?"
"It is none of your concern. ...Counselor Ophelia?"
"Right, right. I understand. Now, why don't you two play a game of chess together? I need to conduct a counseling session now."
I felt a pang of guilt toward Leo. I had made him wait all this time, only to essentially kick him out of the room. ...Fortunately, Leo didn't seem to mind in the slightest.
"I have rarely played chess before... But watching the two of you play makes me want to try! How about you, Orca?"
"...Fine by me. I'll vent all my frustration on you."
"Haha, please go easy on me, then."
Fortunately, Orca—despite having just been utterly demolished by Stella—seemed highly motivated. Her tone remained sharp, but a soft smile crept onto my face as I watched her. Orca, who in the original game was destined to wander the world alone for the rest of her days, without a single friend to her name. Seeing her slowly discover the simple joy of sharing an activity with someone else warmed my heart.
"This presents quite a fitting opportunity. What do you say, Counselor Ophelia? Shall we converse over a game of chess?"
"Sure. That sounds lovely."
"Checkmate."
"...As I thought, you were holding back against that girl, weren't you?"
"Who knows? I assure you, I always play with absolute sincerity."
"Ha, what a blatant lie."
But it's the truth. Stella, however, didn't seem to believe a single word. Well, I couldn't exactly blame her. A person who claimed to have lost to Orca had just completely dismantled her; it was only natural for her to suspect foul play.
"Would you care for another round?"
"...Yes. This time, I shall claim victory."
Of course, it wasn't that I had never gone easy on Orca. It was a fact that my chess skills far surpassed hers. However, my defeat against her had been entirely genuine. After all, I had never actually played chess with a real human being before... I enjoyed the game, but since no one in my social circle shared the hobby, my experience was limited to getting utterly demolished by chess engines on my computer. So how on earth was I able to defeat Stella so easily? That was simple. I had the meta-strategies.
In the game, encountering Stella as other playable characters would occasionally trigger a chess mini-game. The rewards for winning were meager at best, but gamers are creatures who physically cannot bear to miss out on even the most trivial of prizes. After countless players pitted themselves against her and documented their matches, they eventually cracked the code. They mapped out Stella's exact decision tree.
I casually slid my queen forward, placing her in a position where Stella's knight could easily capture her. How would she react to this bait?
"..."
Perhaps because she had already lost a few times, Stella fell into deep thought, meticulously analyzing the board to see if she had missed a trap. But eventually, as if making up her mind, she swept her knight forward and captured my queen. ...Yes, she took the bait. She had moved the one knight that absolutely had to stay put.
"And... checkmate."
"Wh-What...?!"
"Would you like to keep going?"
"...No. I concede."
The moment her knight abandoned its post protecting her key pieces, her entire defense crumbled like a house of cards. Was it because she was now a living, breathing person rather than a pre-programmed NPC? It felt as though her psychological quirks manifested in an even more extreme manner.
"Excellent. I've made my decision."
"Regarding what?"
"Your next assignment."
"Wh-What? But I thought the homework was finished—"
"A student must behave like a student and accept the assignments their teacher gives them, don't you think?"
"Ugh..."
To be fair, Stella was exceptionally good at chess. I didn't know the exact level of her mastery, as I wasn't much of an expert myself, but one thing was certain: the mini-game had been needlessly difficult. It was so notoriously challenging that players had felt compelled to write extensive guides and map out her decision trees just to clear it. Without those community-compiled strategies, a novice like me wouldn't have stood a chance. But conversely, the very existence of a "meta-strategy" meant her playstyle was highly formulaic. Unlike standard chess AI that calculates the mathematically optimal move for any given board state, Stella was bound by very human obsessions.
Stella was obsessed with powerful pieces—specifically, the queen. If she had to choose between moving her queen or her bishop, she would almost always choose the queen. The reason was simple: it was the strongest piece on the board. A queen was objectively superior to a bishop. Many players in the community loved how her personality bled into her playstyle, and I had been one of them.
"At least twice a week. You are to come to the counseling room and play chess with me. I shall leave the specific days and times up to you."
"...Hmm?"
"Do you object?"
The fact that her personality was reflected in her chess play meant, conversely, that if I could force her to change her playstyle, I might be able to nudge her core values in a new direction. It might sound like an absurd leap of logic, but personality is ultimately built from the accumulation of minor habits. By shifting the way she approached her favorite game, her perspective on other matters would inevitably begin to drift.
"...Very well. You had best prepare yourself, Counselor. Next time we play, I will not let you off so easily."
"I look forward to it."
She was fiercely proud. Having suffered consecutive defeats in a game she took immense pride in, her ego was undoubtedly bruised. She was likely grinding her teeth, determined to crush me next time. But what would happen if she continued to lose? She would eventually realize that her fundamental approach to the game was flawed. She would realize that if she kept playing this way, she would never defeat me. ...And if she ever reached that realization—if Stella finally broke free from the predictable patterns documented by gamers—her worldview would shift. Whether that shift would be monumental or microscopic, I couldn't say. But a small change had already taken place. After all, I had already witnessed her offering a genuine compliment to Orca from behind the door.
"Ah, and I shall reduce your compliment quota to once every two days."
"Wh-What...?!"
"You seemed to be struggling a bit, so I am merely easing your burden. There is no need to overthink it."
"Should that assignment not be abolished entirely...?!"
"I never said any such thing."
"Th-This is a disaster. I have already exhausted every possible way to praise the old hag and Charlotte..."
"Have you seriously only been complimenting those two this entire time?"
"I-It could not be helped! How could an imperial princess possibly offer praise to a complete stranger..."
...Good grief. I wasn't sure whether to call her clever or just hopelessly misguided. Well, it wasn't entirely a bad thing. Offering genuine praise to those you know is actually far more difficult than it seems. Expressing appreciation to the people closest to you takes real effort. Since she had managed to do even that much, I supposed I had to count it as progress.
"In that case, Princess Stella, you can simply praise the children who visit this office. You complimented Orca just a moment ago, after all. Since you have already taken the first step, it should not be too difficult to continue."
"...I complimented her? Truly?"
"Of course. Even Leo heard you."
Only after Princess Stella gave a small, reluctant nod did our chess match—thinly veiled as a counseling session—finally draw to a close.