A Fleeting Lie for the Rose
The painful name of the disease was hidden behind a momentary lie. The faint breaths continued in quiet rhythm. The rose had fallen into a sleep so deep she was unaware of her surroundings. Leaving the girl to her rest, we sat in the next room sharing a light cup of tea.
In front of the plush sofa sat a platinum-haired girl.
“......”
Charlotte remained silent. She seemed lost in heavy thoughts. The steaming teacup simply hung between her fingers, steadily growing cold without the slightest movement. Beyond those clear pupils, a tangle of complicated emotions flickered.
She’s been like this the whole time.
I wore a bitter smile. The hope that had arrived so suddenly. The girl looked as though she had something to say, yet she hesitated, unable to bring the words to her lips. In the glances we occasionally exchanged, I saw emotions trembling.
Was she shocked?
I gently set down my own teacup. At this rate we would be awake until dawn, so I decided to speak first.
In an utterly calm voice, I asked, “How was she?”
A single light remark. Short as it was, its meaning clearly pointed toward the rose. After all, it must have been a long time since Elise had looked so peaceful.
When I waited quietly for an answer, a subdued voice soon reached me. Her blue eyes had sunk low.
“......Can you truly cure her?”
The question fractured weakly. Even from a single hearing, it sounded far closer to a wish than an actual inquiry.
I did not nod at once. Instead, I simply smiled, as if deliberately drawing out her anxiety.
“Would it be… difficult?”
Charlotte’s unease deepened. Because her beloved sister’s lifespan hung in the balance, the girl studied even the slightest curl of my lips. The agitation in her eyes had completely erased her usual blunt demeanor.
Right now, Charlotte was emotionally fragile. Hope and despair—two fierce emotions swirled inside her. She clung to the expectation that she had found a way to save her sister, yet she was simultaneously tormented by the fear that even this hope might fail. The endless emotional whiplash was more than enough to shake her.
“It is not difficult,” I said.
Now is the time.
It was time to begin taming the little prince. A crack had formed in that once-impenetrable heart; a gap, however brief, had opened. I saw it as the perfect moment to slip inside.
I rose from my seat, letting the words drift out casually. “Didn’t I already tell you? It is entirely possible.”
I was exploiting her confusion. Humans are powerless before despair; in moments of weakness, they instinctively reach for any hope they can lean on. Even a girl who existed in four dimensions would be no exception. While offering myself as a wall to lean against, I intended, at the same time, to become a deep swamp that would swallow both princesses whole.
To achieve that, I first had to plant trust.
“You must believe in me.”
The belief that I was someone worth relying upon.
“Your Highness.”
“......”
Her transparent eyes stared at me blankly. I walked slowly toward the sofa opposite her, then moved behind it. I placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder and brought my lips close to her pale ear.
“The treatment will not be easy.”
“......”
“But if Your Highness follows my instructions faithfully, it is not impossible.”
“......What must I do?”
“It is nothing complicated. For the duration of the treatment, you must obey my orders without question.”
“If I do that… can you save Elise?”
“I swear it on my honor. Should it prove false, you may bury my head in the ground.”
“All right… I’ll believe you. I’ll do anything you ask.”
The girl nodded as though entranced. Even as she stepped into the swamp, her blue eyes still shone with transparent light. I smiled softly, a touch of tenderness in my heart.
“A very good attitude.”
It was merely the stage of dangling bait, yet as a beginning it was not bad at all. In a low whisper, I added, “Please remember this well.”
In the midst of this despair, the only person capable of pulling you out—is me alone in all the world.
It was the true beginning of the full-scale gaslighting of the princesses.
[EP???. For Elise]
A Lonely Nest, A Rose Withering in Winter
Elise Rose von Staufen. She was the Second Princess of the Empire and Charlotte’s younger sister, yet her treatment within the imperial family was anything but kind. The reason was the disease she carried.
Mana Petrochemical Disease.
Despite the word “disease” attached to its name, people regarded it more as a curse. The superstition that she had incurred the hatred of the gods even followed in its wake. The problem was that the academic world itself had accepted this superstition as established fact. Medicine, magic, divine power—research had continued for centuries without yielding even the faintest clue toward a cure. In the end, even the experts had given up.
Given the circumstances, the petrochemical disease had become a symbol of absolute dread.
I can’t say I don’t understand.
It made sense. The illness struck without warning. Its cause was unknown, no solution existed, samples were too few for meaningful data, and it inevitably ended in death. There was simply no explanation other than that the gods had abandoned the afflicted.
Moreover.
The mana pathways of those who contracted it hardened like stone. The body’s flow reversed, sharp fragments circulated through the veins, and the internal organs were torn apart. The process leading to death was so horrific that the public perception could only be the worst possible.
In fact, records from the past several centuries told of afflicted individuals being burned at the stake for “purification” on the grounds that they had received a divine curse.
The nightmare-like curse had manifested in none other than an imperial princess.
Naturally, the imperial family was thrown into chaos.
The rose who had been the beloved flower of the people only the day before had become a sinner who incurred the wrath of the gods overnight. The phenomenon could easily be interpreted as an ill omen for the entire empire. It was certain to cause unrest not only in imperial politics but among the citizens as well.
Therefore, the emperor acted swiftly. The matter was sealed as an imperial secret. All involved parties were silenced, and only the absolute minimum number of close aides were allowed to know. The rose was confined to a secluded palace to prevent any leaks. Externally, all social activities were canceled under the pretext that the princess was frail.
Poor child.
She had not even reached ten years of age. While the emperor’s measures were wise when considering the political fallout and the girl’s safety, the rose had been forced to stand alone from a very young age. She endured nearly ten years of isolation.
—For the residence of a princess of the realm, it is excessively modest.
—......Yes.
The unusual modesty of her quarters was for that very reason. Access was strictly limited. The only person who visited the secluded palace with any regularity was the First Princess. The rose lived under the care of a handful of maids, spending each day simply waiting for death.
That was as far as my knowledge went from playing the original work.
The rose stubbornly refused treatment. Was she not even afraid of the seizures? It was obvious she would soon be writhing on the floor, coughing up blood—yet she remained obstinate. The girl simply groped for the desk beside her bed.
Rattle.
The drawer opened with a violent scrape. After rummaging inside for a moment, her hand finally seized something. It was a small pocket knife that fit in her palm.
She unwound the thick bandages around her wrist, then pressed the sharply honed silver against her skin.
I, who had been watching in silence, realized what she intended only belatedly.
“You mustn’t.”
I seized her slender wrist. Beneath the bandages lay countless straight scars, densely layered. They were unmistakably self-inflicted. The girl strained against my grip as if trying to hide them.
“Let go.”
It was a kind of folk remedy. A method to calm the seizures caused by mana reflux—by wounding a distant part of the body and letting blood flow to forcibly restore balance. It offered temporary relief but was no true solution, and its self-destructive nature made it a practice to be avoided.
Looking more closely, both arms and even her neck were wrapped in bandages.
No way.
“......Your condition is far more serious than I imagined.”
I had wondered why she kept touching the bandages earlier, thinking she was simply frustrated. It seemed she was suffering from withdrawal. Once the habit took hold, it became highly addictive. The more unstable the mana flow, the stronger the sense of relief these acts provided.
Judging by the scars, she had been doing this for at least three years. The original work had hinted at it, but I had not realized it was this severe.
“And yet you refuse treatment in this state?”
“......”
“This will not do.”
I had intended to treat her as gently as possible today after being too harsh yesterday. But after seeing this, I could no longer afford to yield.
Snap!
Without hesitation I flicked my fingers. Shadows sprang forth, twisting like ropes once more and binding the stiffened girl to the bed. It was an exact reenactment of yesterday’s scene.
“Wait…?!”
The red-haired girl collapsed onto the sheets in panic. I gathered a thick lie at my fingertips and lifted the thin nightgown covering the rose. Then I slowly stroked her belly.
“Today will be rougher than yesterday. I ask that you endure it well.”
I spoke to the struggling Elise.