The Person I Don't Want to Meet (2)
Cecil Soladin.
If I had to sum this character up in a single phrase, it would be rage-inducing. You know the type — a villain who leans on his rank and power to squeeze everyone around him, only to get flattened later on for a big satisfying hit of catharsis.
Why? Because his personality is absolutely rotten.
Maybe it was because the First Prince had stripped away everything he ever had, but his hunger to possess things was off the charts. He'd spent his whole life being compared to his own younger brother in brains, so he pretended not to care while nursing a full-blown inferiority complex about his intellect. And on top of all that, his might-makes-right fanaticism was something else — the man never stopped insisting that the sword outranked the quill. He was fond of saying that fists stood closer to justice than law ever would.
He was also the type to run the bullying-the-weak, groveling-to-the-strong routine to its absolute extreme.
Any ordinary noble pulling this nonsense would be one thing — but a prince doing it as a matter of course?
In the game, Cecil showed up as an obstacle in most nobles' personal storylines, and from the moment you started the Third Prince or First Prince routes, he graduated straight into archenemy territory. Play his own storyline and guide him toward redemption, and he'd turn into a passable human being — but until then, he was closer to a beast than a man.
Thanks to the endless parade of blunders this guy committed, the nickname users gave him was Idiot Prince.
Honestly, the "Prince" part barely ever made it into the post. People would upload Cecil's screenshot under a title that just read "Idiot" and farm upvotes as a daily routine — you can imagine what his reputation looked like.
Personally, I didn't actually hate him all that much.
His combat stats were broken, after all.
Personality this, villainy that — who cares? From a player's perspective, a character's performance was everything.
But when the game becomes reality, things change.
In reality, personality outranks performance.
When he was just a lunatic on the other side of a monitor, I could ignore whatever tantrum he threw inside the screen. Not anymore. If this bastard throws his weight around now, the fallout lands directly on me.
And in my case, the problem was even more serious.
Going by every precedent so far, my Mesugaki skill would call Cecil an Idiot Prince with one hundred percent certainty.
And how would Cecil react to hearing that?
Not well. If he were the kind of statesman who could laugh off an insult, nobody would be calling him an Idiot Prince in the first place!
"The reason I sought you out is that I have kept a close eye on your talent."
What do I do.
How do I get out of this situation?
Let me think while Cecil drones on, complimenting himself.
Opening my mouth is off the table for starters. No matter how carefully I phrase things, the Mesugaki skill is going to spit out the word idiot. Judging from my experience with Arthur — yes. Yes, it will.
"The talent you carry as heir to the great bloodline of House Aln is more than equal to commanding the continent, and your intellect surpasses even that of your own kin. How could I possibly fail to take notice?"
Thank you very much for the compliments, but I'd rather not have anything to do with you, actually?
Because if I keep you around, I will absolutely end up calling you Idiot Prince, and I would very much like to avoid that particular catastrophe?
So please, PLEASE don't say the thing I can tell you're about to say!
"And so I shall make you an offer. Would you consider placing yourself beneath me?"
Gyaaaaaah!
I'm doomed! Doomed, I say!
⟨Child. What troubles you so?⟩
Sensing something strange in my spinning eyeballs, perhaps, Grandpa's voice slid in quietly.
Ah, right! Grandpa exists!
'Grandfather. Help. HELP!'
⟨What has happened?⟩
'You know how my blessing never lets me say people's names properly?! I'm about to spit the word "idiot" straight at that prince over there?! How do I keep my mouth shut and get out of this?!'
If Agra had unfairly ambushed me, sure, I could claw my way out with game knowledge — but from where I'm standing, there's no answer to this one!
I do not want my head leaving my shoulders for the crime of lèse-majesté!
⟨My, my. What a predicament.⟩
When I asked in a panic, Grandpa answered in the leisurely tone of a man discussing someone else's problem.
This is NOT the time for that!
I am in a serious crisis right now!
Answer!
Quickly!
⟨Child. Would it trouble you to earn that man's displeasure?⟩
'No problem at all!'
Frankly, earning his dislike would be a plus.
That way he'll want nothing to do with me.
I would take being hated a hundred times over triggering the Idiot Prince catastrophe!
⟨Then keep your mouth shut, offer your courtesies, and take your leave. If he calls after you, ignore him.⟩
'Can I really do that?'
⟨It is fine. If you comport yourself so, he will misconstrue your intent on your behalf.⟩
I'm sorry — he'll what?
He'll misconstrue it for me?
It was a hard story to wrap my head around, but Grandpa hadn't been wrong about a single thing yet.
I gave Cecil's outstretched hand a courteous nod, then turned my back on him.
Would that read as a firm refusal?
"Hold there!"
The instant I stepped away, Cecil thrust a hand out from behind me, but dodging it was no trouble at all.
My Iron Wall skill flagged the danger — all I had to do was slip past him.
Ignoring whatever he was bellowing at my back, I shoved through the crowd and fled at a brisk pace.
He won't follow me, right?
Please, just give up on me already!
Why would anyone insist on taking a foul-tempered mesugaki into his service, you masochist of a prince?!
"How audacious."
Having been refused so flagrantly in front of a crowd of students, Cecil stared down at his own empty hand, then slowly clenched it into a fist.
"Hm? Utterly audacious."
Refusal was a possibility he had weighed from the very beginning.
Cecil knew Lucy Aln's temperament well. A girl who had committed open disrespect before his own father was hardly going to tiptoe around his pride.
She was the sort who minded no one's gaze and moved through the world as though she herself were the heavens. Entering another person's service would never so much as cross her mind.
He had predicted as much — and yet the fury remained, stubborn as ever.
Had an ordinary person refused him this way, Cecil would have raged until the rafters shook. How dare someone of your station refuse my offer?
But Lucy Aln was different.
To Cecil, who divided all the world into the strong and the weak, a being like Lucy Aln — bearer of a miraculous, once-in-an-era talent — was one who deserved, by right, to be respected.
Even if being publicly humiliated made his insides boil, this was a humiliation worth swallowing.
"Holden."
It was only after he had ground his teeth through the displeasure and left the plaza behind, arriving somewhere no stray eyes could reach, that Cecil called for his retainer.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"What do you make of Lucy Aln's reaction?"
Holden, possessor of the sharpest strategic mind among all of Cecil's retainers, did not answer at once. He considered the question for a moment before speaking.
"I would not call it negative, my lord."
"Why so? She humiliated me before the eyes of everyone present."
"Because the one who did so was Lucy Aln, Your Highness."
Had an ordinary person answered a refusal with silence, it would have signified unyielding firmness.
But Lucy Aln was no ordinary person.
She was a human being who spoke her mind no matter who stood before her. Had his offer truly displeased her, she would have hurled her venom without a moment's hesitation.
That she had instead held her silence and offered proper courtesy meant, to some degree, that she acknowledged him.
"One need only look at how she names the Third Prince 'Pitiful Prince.' She is not a woman who keeps her grievances behind her teeth."
As Holden laid out this reasoning, Cecil arched a single eyebrow.
"Would Lucy Aln truly have weighed such considerations?"
"If this were the Lucy Aln of the past — the mere street thug — perhaps not. But the Lucy Aln who has since proven her intellect? Entirely within her capability, Your Highness."
Indeed. It held water.
Pleased by his subordinate's sweet words, Cecil gave a nod and pressed him onward.
"Suppose what you say is true. Then why depart without so much as a word?"
"Might it be a request for time to think, my lord? Not a refusal — a deferral."
Time to deliberate?
Meaning she would set him upon a set of scales and measure him against all others?
Truly insolent behavior — but Lucy Aln had earned the right to such insolence.
Her talent shone like the stars themselves, after all.
"Very well. Then wait she shall."
Though his patience would not stretch far.
Lucy Aln. You had best reach your decision swiftly.
Otherwise this lion will come to find you himself — and make you his prey.
Thankfully, Cecil didn't come chasing after me.
That's my Grandpa for you!
Utterly omnipotent when it counts!
If only he would nag a little less in his spare time, he'd be absolutely perfect!
Having somehow scrambled over the mountain of crisis, I headed for the training grounds to find Joy and Frey — but only Frey was there.
Huh? Did Joy oversleep today like I did?
When I asked, finding it odd, Frey answered that she'd come here with Arthur before the two of them headed off somewhere else.
"She said they were going over the exam papers."
Exam papers?
The grades are already out. What's the point of comparing them now?
Was there something strange on them?
Actually... there could be.
Joy had taken second place in the academy exam, after all.
The Airhead Lady I know is a fool who botches her way from ninth to tenth place on the regular with mistakes that defy human comprehension. She is not the thorough, meticulous type who scores second in her entire year.
Arthur must have thought the same thing I did and dragged her off to investigate. Good. I'd been curious how on earth Joy managed second place anyway.
Curiosity piqued, I said my goodbyes to Frey and went wandering in search of the two of them.
After maybe ten minutes of asking around—
"I tested like this, and she outscored me?!"
I could hear Arthur's voice cracking with sheer disbelief.
"I botched this one! Flubbed that one! And this one — the calculation itself is wrong from the ground up!"
"Yep. Looks like it."
"It is not 'looks like it'! You scatterbrained Airhead Lady!"
"Well, what can I say? I won on total score."
"Ugh... urrrgh!"
Why was Arthur working himself into such a lather?
As I approached, puzzled, Joy greeted me with a brightness quite unlike her usual self.
"Lady Aln, did you see? I placed second in the academy exam!"
"I saw. Amazing, honestly."
"I saw. The Airhead Lady placing second, airhead-ly as ever — how pathetic must everyone ranked below her be? Fufu. Losers~ little scrubs~ ♡"
The one who reacted to my mesugaki translation wasn't Joy, though — it was Arthur. Face flushing red, teeth clenched tight, his fury on full display.
'Arthur, why are you so angry?'
"What's the matter, Pitiful Prince? Feeling inferior? I suppose it makes sense, losing to the Airhead Lady and all. Fufufu. Pathetic~ scrub~ ♡"
"Enough, Lucy Aln! I cannot accept this defeat! Do you have any idea how many airheaded blunders this woman has committed? And I'm the one who loses to her?!"
Huh? Wait, what.
So it wasn't that Joy committed fewer airheaded blunders and earned second place?
No, hold on. That's weird.
The Airhead Lady was airheaded. So how did she get second?
As I stood there tilting my head, Joy — who had been raising the corners of her mouth at Arthur's shouting — spoke up.
"It's all thanks to Lady Aln, you see."
Thanks to me?
Why?
Could someone please explain this in a way I can actually understand?