Looksism
"Pfft—don't worry so much."
When I stared at the Crown Prince, he seemed to read my thoughts and spoke gently.
"I won't suddenly turn into some self-righteous tyrant just because of what you said."
"That wasn't what I was worried about."
The Crown Prince was a soft, gentle man—the kind people would tag #SweetGuy. I didn't think a single word from me would turn him into a dictator who ignored his subjects.
I was more worried he might get close to me the way he'd taken an interest in Alice.
This world was a female-oriented romance fantasy. Love between men and women was the natural order of things—but it was still written for a female audience, so I couldn't dismiss the possibility of same-sex attraction cropping up.
The original romance plot was already warping. I couldn't guarantee Maximus's interest wouldn't veer in some unexpected direction.
Of course, it wasn't a serious concern. Would a Crown Prince who already had a fiancée deliberately go looking for a male lover?
"The sons of House Goldrein all have rather poor reputations, yet speaking with you, I don't sense that tendency at all. Were the rumors baseless?"
"No. They're true."
"Hmm?"
Better to be honest now than have a lie exposed later. I couldn't change the crimes I'd committed in the past.
"I'm simply trying not to repeat my past mistakes and to become a better person."
"...Is that so."
The Crown Prince considered this, then nodded as if he understood.
"Do you plan to attend the entrance ceremony reception?"
"I should at least make an appearance."
"I'd like you to stay by my side for a while then and keep me company."
"..."
My suspicions grew even stronger.
Surely not...?
"If you're standing next to me, most people will talk about you rather than me, won't they?"
"You're quite brazen about admitting you want to use me."
"You're the one who taught me. Didn't you tell me to choose as I please?"
I considered the advantages and disadvantages of staying at the Crown Prince's side.
The advantages were clear just from looking at Alice's achievements.
Alice had talent in all sorts of skills, but she'd lacked money and status, so she never got to shine properly. It was the Crown Prince's support that first allowed her abilities to truly blossom.
I had plenty of money myself, but I wasn't drawing on the full power of my house, so large-scale projects were difficult. The scale of my personal funds versus imperial support was completely different.
If Alice had gotten the spark to awaken her abilities, I could get the seed capital to start turning over real money.
The downside, of course, was that he'd meet Alice.
Alice would stick close as my maid and bounce around all over the place. She'd inevitably catch the Crown Prince's eye, and I had no idea how he'd react when that happened.
"Those who desire that choice would gladly accept Your Highness's favor. I am not one of them."
"Why not?"
If I said it was to keep Alice and the Crown Prince from meeting, that would only make things worse. Telling someone like the Crown Prince—a young man—not to do something only made him want to do it more.
"Because I prefer women."
"...Pfft!"
The Crown Prince couldn't hold back his laughter.
"Ah, I wasn't accounting for your past record. Yes, that makes sense. Can't be helped. Aside from court jesters, you're the first person who's ever said something like that to my face."
Fortunately, the Crown Prince seemed to take it as a comedic rejection and let me go. There was a hint of wounded pride in his words, but a jester comparison was tolerable enough. At least it wasn't a crude insult.
Nobles placed enormous importance on empty formalities, and the grander the occasion, the more labyrinthine the etiquette became. When royalty from another nation came as guests, welcoming a single person could take over ten hours. And since the Academy was welcoming even more distinguished guests, the whole affair was extremely tedious.
"Uuuugh..."
"Lady Alice? Young Master is right here—you can't make sounds like that."
"I'm sooorry..."
Alice was completely wilted under the relentless barrage of boring entrance ceremony speeches. Even after the Academy headmaster, the vice headmaster, and the sponsors—including my father—had finished their addresses, the endless stream of words, words, and more words just kept coming.
I was getting a bit sleepy myself.
Still, the celebration that followed was lavish, and the atmosphere was electric. Having been reduced to dry kindling moments before, the young students now moved about like they'd been set ablaze—chatting freely with strangers and new acquaintances without a hint of awkwardness.
Alice's eyes swept every direction, darting this way and that. And yet she managed to keep pace with me without stumbling, which was rather impressive.
"Is this the right way?"
Thunk.
"Eek?"
"Pardon me. Identity verification is required before entering."
As we tried to enter a grand palace rather than the outdoor banquet grounds, a guard at the door blocked our path. Alice stepped back at the sight and bumped into me. I pinched her cheek to snap her out of it, then pushed her back so Karen could take her.
"Yosef of House Goldrein."
With that, I placed my hand on the crystal orb the guard held out. It was a device that identified people through the unique wavelength of their mana—similar to a fingerprint scanner back on Earth.
Beep.
"Yes, verified."
Once I entered, Karen followed with Alice in tow.
"We don't need to do that?"
"Of course not. We're the Young Master's attendants."
They thoroughly searched commoners' belongings, yet never touched attendants vouched for by a noble. To doubt a retainer was to doubt the noble's honor itself.
"What is this place, anyway?"
"A gathering place for those of noble blood."
The number of people who'd sat in the special seats earlier had been very small. After all, few nobles had achievements grand enough for the Academy to recognize, or donated enough money to earn that privilege. But to enjoy a banquet and form an upper-class faction, you needed numbers. So this time, they gathered everyone recognized as having noble blood into one building to enjoy refined conversation.
"There's not much to do here anyway."
"Huh? With this many people, shouldn't we be making friends?"
Alice's pure reaction drew a smile from me unbidden. And I kneaded her cheek again.
Squeezing it brought a sense of calm to body and mind—a soothing feeling of shared understanding with anyone who thought the same way.
It's like a stress ball. Maybe I should make one later.
"Why do you keep kneading my cheek?"
"Because it feels nice. You're my maid—surely this much is allowed?"
Alice looked displeased, but she didn't resist.
"So why can't we make friends?"
"Have you already forgotten what we heard during the entrance ceremony?"
I asked just in case Alice had a goldfish's memory. If she did, I'd need to find an intelligence-boosting item and feed it to her.
"But with this many people, there has to be at least one, right?"
"There might be, but they won't try to get close right away—not here."
Even among those noble enough to enter this place, Alice did have a few friends who grew close to her personally.
"Getting close to me here means discovering my worth while tanking your own reputation—and your family's—in the process. Anyone willing to shoulder that weight and speak to me would be..."
"Brother Yosef, good day to you."
Wild Benedict appeared. He'd been sitting with me in the special seats until just a moment ago, so his presence here wasn't strange.
"Good to see you. What brings you here?"
"We know each other, so I simply came to greet you."
Unlike Alice, who came from minor nobility, Benedict was the son of a great house with a long history. Though a saint candidate, he also performed good deeds and fulfilled every noble duty—a perfect specimen of a son. So of course he'd heard my reputation in noble society, which was why he'd told me to let Alice go.
"That won't do you any favors."
Even a glance around showed the unfriendly looks directed at Benedict and me. Of course, with my reputation being what it was, most of the gossip was about me. But get close to something filthy and you get dirty too—gossip about Benedict would increase as well.
"...Good day."
Isabel, the villainess candidate who trailed after the saint candidate, also greeted me—but her eyes were sharp, as if her mood was foul. I couldn't tell who Isabel was annoyed with, but she clearly wasn't welcoming our group.
I didn't call Benedict over—he came on his own. Could you just scold him and leave me out of it?
Benedict smiled lightly at my words and said:
"Not at all. I have something I must do. I've come to apologize for the other day."
"Apologize? You didn't do anything wrong."
"No, I did. I judged a person solely by rumor."
Benedict continued, looking at Alice happily devouring food.
"When I heard the bad rumors about Brother Yosef, I worried a great deal for Sister Alice."
"Hmm..."
It was something worth worrying about. Even setting aside the lack of illegitimate children, stories of marriageable women connected to Yosef suddenly having their marriage proposals dry up—or simply moving away—were all too common. If an unfortunate woman fell into the hands of a man with those kinds of rumors, something terrible would naturally follow.
"But seeing her smile so happily, I must have been mistaken."
"Right..."
"At the very least, Sister Alice doesn't seem to be held against her will. I was too hasty in that judgment."
Alice was happily eating with her cheeks stuffed full. Karen, beside her, wiped her mouth and tidied up around them.
Is she trying to tank her reputation worse than mine?
In the original story, Alice never got into this place—she could only look around from outside. She'd enjoyed the reception outside, where people of relatively lower status gathered.
And she'd made a few commoner friends, chatting brightly with kids left on their own and savoring the joy of school life.
But right now, she seemed completely absorbed in the food. And the surrounding nobles did not look kindly on that kind of behavior.
"Young Master Goldrein."
"Hmm? And you are?"
A servant's fault becomes the master's fault. Failing to properly train a servant is the master's responsibility.
"I am Vistar of House Aieron."
"Can't say I'm pleased to meet you. Interrupting someone mid-conversation is rather rude, don't you think?"
"Hah—look at your own servant's behavior first."
Vistar was one of Alice's antagonistic classmates who appeared in the very early chapters of volume one. He pointed at Alice's unmannered eating and rebuked me.
"I suppose that's what you get from a nouveau riche family—bringing along nothing but shabby students as servants. Either bring someone properly educated, or stick to being served by the Academy staff, wouldn't you say?"
"Hmm..."
And I was Yosef Goldrein. A boss, mid-boss, and elite boss who appeared from volume one and kept clashing with the protagonist for over ten volumes. This kind of hostility was easy to bat away.
"And if I refuse?"
"What?"
He'd probably said it thinking any noble would tremble at such words. Of course, most nobles felt shame when their servants made mistakes, so Vistar wasn't entirely wrong. But I wasn't particularly embarrassed. I'd done far more shameful things in the past.
"As a noble, are you not ashamed of your servant's behavior?!"
This guy had harassed Alice by bringing up her conduct as well. Alice would first crush Vistar and his friends with high grades earned through her talent, then crush them a second time by correcting her own conduct.
Unfortunately, I couldn't act the way she would. Having been a villain from the start, I went even more shameless.
"Do you think I hire maids based on their manners?"
"Then what the hell do you hire them based on?!"
"Looks."
I was completely unapologetic. After all, by my standards, both Karen and Alice were extremely beautiful. Of course, that wasn't the only real reason. But I had no intention of explaining Alice's worth to Vistar.
Combined with the rumors of my usual womanizing and misdeeds, the looks declaration gained powerful credibility.
"That's all there is to it."
"..."
Vistar was so flabbergasted he lost the ability to speak entirely.
"You lunatic... We'll see how long that vulgar taste of yours holds up."
And with that, he turned his back and fled. He seemed well aware of the advice: don't engage with lunatics—just run.