A Princess's Punishment
With so many women around him…
Bond Skill.
Special Command.
What the hell is this now…?
I felt the full weight of what the game maker—my junior—had said when he forced me into multi-playthroughs. I really hadn't even enjoyed half of that game, of this world. The deeper I dug, the more new things kept surfacing.
Still, as a gamer I could guess: hiding information meant it wasn't a useless feature. Max affinity, plus a Scouter upgrade. Two conditions to clear, so the reward had to match the grind. That was how games worked, no matter the genre. No game existed just to make you suffer. That wouldn't be a game at all.
Let's see. Upgrading the Scouter to Stage 2 cost 500 coins. Cheap compared to the ending rewards you could buy in the shop, but I still needed another 300. One way or another, it was time to start clearing challenge quests.
And to think maxing affinity didn't just affect the ending—it unlocked new functions too.
"If I'd known, I should've pursued Ester harder…"
Forget max affinity; I wasn't sure I'd even checked her affection at all. How high had it been the last time I looked?
"How bold of you, Hasgard. A true hero. To dare speak another woman's name in front of me… I'll have them carve 'He was brave in life' on your tombstone."
Amelia crossed her legs and lifted her chin. She tried for haughty, but sitting on one of the cafeteria's spinning stools didn't exactly radiate majesty. In fact, the momentum from crossing her legs had just made her rotate a little.
Well, even if the max-affinity reward was a nice bonus, my actual goal hadn't changed. Raise Amelia and send her back to the royal family.
"Do you like it?"
"Like what?"
I pointed at the plate in front of her.
"The hamburger."
"Ah."
Eating a burger while wearing gloves felt like sacrilege, yet the hygiene wasn't exactly a downside either.
"I don't particularly like it. The efficiency is appealing, though. Carbohydrates, protein, and fat in a single bite. Shortening mealtime isn't bad either. I simply don't care for commoner food like this."
She said she didn't like it twice.
"And stop changing the subject. I clearly heard that first-year's name."
Tch. So that hadn't been enough.
"Your Highness."
I had no choice but to play a heavier card.
"Why did you come to the Academy?"
It was the same question even the other heroines had wondered about.
"The Academy instructors are excellent, but the royal family could have found far more skilled private tutors."
"……"
Amelia thought for a moment, then took a bite of the efficient food on her plate. Chew, chew. Then she spoke slowly.
"Is that so. I suppose it does look strange to you. I've already been kidnapped by thugs once, yet I still haven't left."
"Not just me. Most people see it that way. They simply don't say it out loud."
"It isn't anything grand. Just personal circumstances everyone has."
Personal circumstances. Drawing a line like that. She was a princess; her wariness about privacy might be higher than anyone's. The gap between the royal family and a mere count's house felt freshly sharp. Even if we'd grown close, this was a princess's private history. She wouldn't spill it easily.
Just as I thought that—
Amelia's information has been updated.
New abilities have been unlocked.
I remembered seeing that message earlier. At first I'd focused on "new abilities," but the front half mattered just as much. Information updated. A common business model in games that monetized character merchandise: raise affinity high enough and previously locked background lore and settings became visible. Exclusive dialogue unlocked; expressions changed.
If the system's "information update" meant that…
"Still, if the other person is you… I suppose there's no reason I can't talk."
The effects of Affinity 99 were only beginning.
"Somehow I feel like I don't want to hide anything from you."
Amelia's profile as seen through the Scouter. Unlike before, status, specialties, hobbies—everything was starting to show. Except for the newly appeared Bond Skill and Special Command, all of it was visible.
In that case, before digging into Amelia's past, I should run a few tests. If maxing affinity had unlocked her information, she would answer most questions I threw at her.
"How old are you this year?"
"You're suddenly asking my age?"
"Yes. I suddenly got curious."
In the game it had always just said "X years old."
"I can tell you, but once you hear it you won't be able to go back."
"…I'll pass, then."
"Wise choice. Roughly speaking, I'm older than that first-year you mentioned earlier."
"How long are you going to keep bringing up Ester? She isn't even at the Academy anymore… Your grudges run deep."
"I'm older than that first-year, yet younger than her roommate."
"This is starting to sound like a riddle."
The Professor Layton game series floated through my mind.
"Hm? Who's that? Lay17ton?"
"Don't just plug numbers in the moment you see an opening."
It wasn't an unknown variable X. It wasn't an equation either.
"Here's a hint: older than Ester, younger than Rebecca, same age as Lucia."
"Thank you. That only made it more confusing."
"Also, someone is lying."
"Now it's a real riddle…"
"And that someone is me."
What was I supposed to do if the question-setter lied? Then the number 17 was a lie from the start.
"So we're back to square one on the age question."
"Don't you think asking in the first place was rude?"
Amelia answered the age question readily enough, yet never gave the truth. A monkey's-paw kind of woman.
"Favorite food?"
"I'm eating it right now, aren't I?"
"You said you didn't like it."
"……"
"Shall I move on to the next question?"
"…Please do."
"What's your weight?"
"One mountain after another. Thirty-eight kilograms."
I hadn't expected her to actually answer, so this time I was the one thrown off.
"You've carried this body before, so you already know."
"Carrying someone once doesn't give me the ability to gauge their weight."
"I thought someone with a hobby of hoisting women over his shoulder would know."
"I don't have that hobby either."
"Is that so? With so many women around you, I assumed you were into that sort of sport."
Every single sentence since earlier had thorns mixed in…
"You're lighter than I expected. Just a little more effort and you'd be about the same as a Golden Retriever."
"I don't know what that is, but it doesn't sound particularly insulting. It isn't as if I'm trying to lose weight. I simply use energy efficiently. The places that should fill out already have, so it doesn't matter, does it?"
"Asking me that is a bit…"
"Then who else would I ask? I have no interest in anyone's preferences but yours."
"I don't understand why you speak as if it's natural for me to judge women by weight, but what I actually care about is age."
"So that's why you asked first! You little devil…!"
"Next question."
"Changing the subject again…"
"I heard you'll be living in the dorms starting second semester. How is it?"
"Mm… utterly humiliating. Because I got myself kidnapped so disgracefully, I'm now restricted to the Academy grounds on weekdays. Two people sleeping in a place as cramped as a chicken coop—it's pure torture."
"That does sound rough."
I'd managed it as a student somehow, but after tasting a noble's life, I wouldn't want to go back either.
"At least I'm glad I like my roommate."
"Your roommate?"
"She barely talks. Sleeps all the time, and every night she sneaks out of the dorm, so I might as well have the room to myself."
Somehow the roommate's identity felt pretty specific… I had a feeling I knew exactly who it was…
"Other dorm students sneak snacks at night, get caught by the houseparent after hanging out in other rooms, or lose track of time sharing secrets—but my room is wonderfully quiet."
"Your Highness… were you hoping for that sort of thing…?"
"No. Of course not. Absolutely not."
"I see. Then shall we move on to the real questions?"
"Yes, I was about to suggest that myself. How long did you plan to fill with this pointless Q and A?"
"Why did you come to the Academy?"
"……"
Amelia closed her eyes slowly, as if the warm-up was over and the main event had arrived.
"Punishment."
"Punishment?"
"I was stripped of succession rights and exiled."
A heavy story started without so much as a turn signal.
"There are students who are forced to go to school, you know."
My chest grew heavy. Sometimes even useless banter wasn't so bad. Useless things had their uses—at least for keeping the mood light.
"For someone forced… you're far too diligent."
"This body is diligent, yes, but I never said I live diligently because I want to. I do it because I must."
So that was it. I had never met anyone as methodical and diligent as Amelia, yet she claimed it was all manufactured. A staged image inside a frame. Then for her, diligence must have been suffering. Enduring. Even now, in this very moment.
"I mentioned him once before. The Fourth Prince, Kairon."
Kairon. The prince who, like me, sat on the Death God Cult's scouting list. The cult had tried to kill Amelia to corrupt him. Because he cherished her so deeply, they believed that killing her would make him put his faith in the Necromancer who could raise the dead. That way, he would become the Necromancer's follower.
"His Majesty regards my brother with utter dread. Not 'cherishes,' mind you—despises. He finds the face so repulsive he makes him wear a helmet at all times."
A helmet? In my previous life I had never heard the name Kairon, but I knew of a swordsman who never removed his helm. …I had known him as an enemy.
"I couldn't simply stand by and watch."
Amelia spoke as if looking into the distance, lost in her own past. I couldn't stand by either. If I hadn't saved Amelia back then, I would have turned Kairon into a villain—one of the top five, no less. Depending on which future I led Amelia toward, both a heroine's fate and a villain's fate would be decided… This had become a truly heavy story.
"I secretly helped my brother. That was discovered, and now I am being punished. That is the story."
"When you say helped…"
Had she been plotting treason?
"Nothing so grand. My brother has been driven from the royal household, stripped of the royal crest, and because of the helmet he has even lost the royal colors…"
Amelia pointed to her own eyes and hair—the mysterious red of autumn leaves, the hue of the royal line.
"…gone. He is not treated as royalty, nor even as human. He wanders the streets. I secretly gave him food and a place to sleep, and unluckily I was caught."
"A prince became a street vagrant?"
"Unfortunately."
Amelia let out a deep sigh.
"We bleed when cut and die when we cannot breathe. Cast into the streets with the royal name stripped away, there is nothing one can do."
"But isn't the Fourth Prince said to be the strongest swordsman?"
"If he had the temperament to thrash about when stepped on, he would have slaughtered them all long ago. Not a single one left."
Hm. As far as I knew, he eventually fell to darkness. The final trigger had been Amelia's death—so in the previous life it had gone all the way there.
"In a way it worked out well. The royal family is currently tearing itself apart over succession rights. Simply being removed from that fight is already better for me. I worry for my brother, but if I am given just a little more time…"
"A succession war, then. So that's… why. To appear incompetent…"
"'That's why' what?"
I must have mentioned it before.
"Final question."
Each heroine possessed her own unique ability. The reason their grades still ranked at the bottom was either because the ability hadn't awakened, it activated only under conditions, or—
"So, are you deliberately failing the exams?"
—or the heroine herself was hiding it.