The Kidnapping of Princess Eustia

Chirp, chirp, chirp.

Birdsong drifted in from beyond the window. The sound tickled at my ears, and I sat up.

"Haa..."

I scanned the room on reflex, and a heavy sigh slipped from my lips.

Gold-worked carpet covered the floor. The walls were hung with banners bearing an imposing black lion crest, and with weapons of every kind. Same as yesterday. The room hadn't changed at all.

"I'm fucked."

A low, deep voice rolled through the chamber.

I'd harbored a faint hope that I might wake up back in my original world. Not a chance.

Me, transmigrated. If I ever switched companies back in my old life, I'd have one more proud line to add to my resume.

Got transmigrated after spending a year posting comments praying for the heroines' revival.

Damn. That's a pathetic-as-hell resume line.

Not that it mattered. Whether I could even get back to my original world was a long shot to begin with.

"If I'd at least possessed someone else..."

Muttering a wish that was never going to come true, I got up and stood before the ornate mirror.

A decadently handsome young man with deep black hair looked back at me. The sculpted features, the blood-red eyes that radiated an ominous power — they were exactly as the novel had described them. Lower than that, solid muscle packed the frame.

The Iron-Blooded Grand Duke. One of only three Sword Masters in the entire empire. And the final boss who, in the story's closing act, would visit despair upon the protagonist and his party.

Grand Duke Behirit Divelion.

I hadn't just transmigrated into a novel. I'd become the one character I'd hated most of all.

"Why did it have to be this guy..."

My mood sank, and the face in the mirror soured with it.

If I had to pick the character in the original furthest from a peaceful life, it would be Behirit, without question. Why? Because Behirit was a usurper after the imperial throne. In the original, this man used every means at his disposal — and I do mean every means — to seize it.

If I was going to transmigrate into a novel, I wanted to get along with the heroines. And of all people, I had to become the final boss. A sense of utter darkness settled over me.

"Haa. What's done is done. Let's start by getting a plan together."

For the time being, I couldn't see any way back to my original world. I was going to have to live in this one. I'd already done more than enough despairing and agonizing yesterday. What I needed now was a plan of action.

Judging by everything I'd pieced together so far, this was the opening of the original story. Meaning the original's events were about to start unfolding. I couldn't just sit still. The last thing I wanted was to end up standing against the heroines I loved.

...What do I do?

I raked a hand through my hair and calmly sorted my thoughts. The answer was simple.

I help the protagonist and the heroines.

The heroines hadn't died in the original for no reason. In a world that put most dark fantasies to shame, Behirit wasn't the only villain who showed up. Threats were piled high both inside the empire and beyond it, and I intended to join forces with the protagonists and deal with them.

The one silver lining was that this body possessed power said to be the strongest in the empire. That would be a considerable help. And if, by some chance, I never made it back to my original world — I at least wanted to live in a peaceful one, together with the heroines.

All right. Let's do this.

I was steeling myself when a knock came at the door.

Knock, knock.

"Who is it."

"The Head Butler, my lord. Might I have a moment of your time?"

"Come in."

"Yes, my lord."

The hinges whispered, and an elderly gentleman appeared in the doorway. A crisp suit, hair peppered with white. Head Butler Alfred.

"What is it?"

"I came to inform you that breakfast will be served shortly."

Alfred, the kindly human alarm clock who even told you when it was time to eat. Ordinarily a maid would have handled a task like this. But yesterday, after first opening my eyes in this room, I'd made a bit of a scene — and the maid who'd witnessed it had pissed herself on the spot. Which was how Alfred had ended up with the job.

Hmm... shame.

She'd been a cute one, too. I hadn't thought she'd wet herself just because I slapped my own face a few times and started muttering nonsense.

Offering my sincere condolences for the unintentional assault on her dignity, I threw on an outer coat and headed for the mansion's dining hall.

Footsteps echoed down the long corridor. I walked with my hands clasped behind my back, taking in the hall as I went. Walls displayed with costly weapons, floors of fine marble. The place was so vast it was closer to a castle than a mansion.

Well. I suppose that's only natural.

Behirit, the original's final boss, was a Grand Duke of the empire who commanded an enormous faction. A residence of this scale was the least that suited a man of that standing.

I was still taking in the interior at an unhurried pace when Alfred spoke up.

"My lord, spring has arrived, and it is time to sow the seed. We intend to make potatoes the principal crop this year. Would that be acceptable?"

"Potatoes, is it... Typical of the North."

"Ah, yes. The potatoes here in the North are quite famous."

Is that so. Affinity with Divelion potato country: slightly increased.

"Very well. Do so. How are the territory's food stores?"

"Last year's attempted invasion by the northern tribes did reduce our stockpiles somewhat, but the situation is not a poor one."

"That's a relief."

I nodded quietly. I continued receiving Alfred's report on various other matters of the territory as we walked toward the dining hall, and I glanced at his face.

I need to tell Alfred I'm abandoning the plan to seize the throne...

Even now, the retainers of House Divelion would be moving on the orders Behirit had given them. If I wanted to keep from colliding with the heroines, I needed to issue new instructions to Alfred first — the Head Butler.

Alfred, a man who had devoted decades of loyalty to House Divelion. I didn't expect someone who had watched Behirit for so long to swallow a sudden change without question. Fortunately, I had an ace up my sleeve.

I cleared my throat and spoke in a low voice.

"Butler. I've been thinking about something lately."

"Yes, my lord."

"Listen carefully, and don't be alarmed."

"Understood."

"I've decided I no longer have any interest in the imperial throne."

"My lord?!"

Alfred stopped dead in the corridor, his eyes gone wide. This man's reactions were something else. Of course they were. After decades of devotion to this house, he knew Behirit's hatred for the imperial family better than anyone alive. My words wouldn't go down easily.

And yet.

The message rang through my head. Good. It was activating properly.

"It seems more important now to devote our strength to the stability of the territory. See that the other retainers are properly informed as well."

"...This life of mine is sworn in loyalty to you, my lord. Whatever decision you may make, I shall trust it and follow."

Alfred bowed at the waist. The trait had taken effect, it seemed.

"I'm grateful to hear you say so."

I gave his bowed shoulder a light pat.

I'd only learned this yesterday — I had something called a Trait that I could activate. Was this the last scrap of conscience from the author who'd dumped me in here? It seemed I could use it with a fair amount of convenience. More than anything, having something like this made it feel like I'd truly become Behirit.

I've got a lot of work ahead of me.

I walked the corridor beside Alfred, lost in thought. Helping the heroines would take more than House Divelion. I'd need the cooperation of the other subordinates under my command as well. It wouldn't be easy — but I would have to keep forcing the change, step by step.

Steeling myself once more, I headed for the dining hall.

After breakfast, I entered the office and picked up a pen. I had a rough goal. Now I needed to comb back through my memories of the original and pin down the important events.

I had just sat down at the wide desk and reached for paper when I felt a presence beyond the door.

Her, then.

A face with dazzling silver hair and lavender eyes flashed through my mind. I set down the pen and spoke toward the door.

"Come in."

"Yes."

A voice beautiful and cold, utterly devoid of emotion. The frosted answer came, and a woman opened the door and stepped inside.

Shimmering silver hair. Mysterious lavender eyes. A pair of generous breasts whose presence asserted itself even through the black leather, and hips built for childbearing.

Lucy. Behirit's aide.

"Master, I have inspected the magical communication network with the other territories and returned."

"Well done."

"Thank you."

Lucy bowed her head evenly. The same doll-like, expressionless face I'd seen yesterday filled my vision.

She really does look like she stepped straight out of the novel.

Thanks to her beauty and her tragic past, Lucy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had been a remarkably popular character despite being a villain on Behirit's side. I'd been no exception.

Personally, it was the "lost her emotions" backstory that really triggered my protective instincts.

A woman who had lost her feelings. Lucy had become this way because she had grown up under a father who abused her from childhood and a mother who looked the other way. Then one day her parents died in an accident, and with nowhere left to turn, she drifted into the city's back alleys — where she happened to catch Behirit's eye, and was brought to the Divelion mansion.

Perhaps because of that pitiful history, a great many fans of the original had hoped Lucy would come over to the protagonist's side. But even in the moment she closed her eyes in the final battle, she never betrayed Behirit.

"Master, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠while inspecting the network, I received a message from House Gremory. May I report?"

"From House Gremory?"

"Yes."

House Gremory belonged to the faction under my command. Behirit, true to his role as the final boss, commanded an enormous force — and his five lieutenants, in particular, each possessed power enough to shake the empire. House Gremory, one of those five, would be located near the Academy.

If word was coming from there at this point in time...

It couldn't be. Unease crawled up my spine. I desperately combed through my memories of the original, and thought led to thought until at last I arrived at a single conclusion.

"That is correct. They plan to attempt the kidnapping four days from now, before the Imperial Academy's entrance ceremony."

"......"

Lucy, calmly discussing a plan to abduct a member of the imperial family. I listened, and without a word, clutched my head in my hands.

I'm so fucking screwed...!

Cold sweat beaded at my temples.

Princess Eustia was one of the original's heroines.

And the one who had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠given the order to kidnap her...

...was none other than me.