A Moment's Carelessness
"Filthy queen!"
"For the Revolution!"
"For the Revolution!"
Cries of revolution rang out from every direction. I stood atop the guillotine, waiting for nothing but the fall of the blade.
"Queen, do you have any last words?"
"None."
"Tch. Pig of a woman."
With that, the executioner drove a boot into my rear. Not once did a moan escape my lips. Why? Because I'd let myself be captured on purpose.
Feign weakness, let the revolutionaries take me. Then, once the guards got lax—run for it. The queen would be forgotten, and only the history of a successful revolution would remain in this place.
'That settles it.'
This was the original eroge I'd transmigrated into. A story where women who'd wrecked the country were bred like livestock, and revolutionary soldiers forced themselves on them without mercy.
'About a year left before the original plot starts, I'd say.'
Still, that was a mercy. In a few months, the age would dawn when the original male lead devoured women one after another with his bizarre skills. If that man got his hands on me, there'd be no escaping—ever.
Letting the revolutionaries take me down early and fade into obscurity was the far better option.
'Looks like I fooled them completely.'
There was something dark and hungry leaking out of the man's eyes, but... I understood. The body of Queen Maria, the character I'd possessed, was utterly devastating. Well, I suppose if I hadn't been aware of my past life, he wouldn't have entertained such thoughts in the first place.
"Queen Maria. You will now be moved to the underground dungeon. Your execution is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Any requests for a last meal?"
"Insolence. To address a queen in such a manner."
The moment I pushed back, the executioner's face twisted into something vicious.
"What, don't like it? One chained-up queen, and you're all worked up about not being able to hold her?"
"Damn you!"
Ptui! He spat at me, though it never reached. Our tyrant queen was tougher than she looked.
"Take a look at your own body before you speak, Your Majesty. That noble bearing of yours is nowhere to be found."
Well, to all outward appearances a perception spell was in place, so what they saw might well have been a shameless, wretched queen. But as long as I was fine on the inside, what did it matter?
"Move. Once you're down in the dungeon, today will be the last day of your miserable life."
I followed without a word. This endless humiliation would soon be over.
Pass the checkpoint, enter the dungeon. Tomorrow there'd be a magical inspection, and the moment it cleared, I'd slip away with stealth magic. Done. The one dying tomorrow would be a decoy clone—crafted with painstaking precision, unrecognizable to anyone short of the Hero.
And by sheer luck, the Hero who'd joined the revolution had departed on a distant journey. The perfect opportunity. If that bored man had kept prowling around the dungeon, I might have been caught.
'Freedom, at last!'
Sitting in my cell, I began to sketch out my future. Once the queen's death was officially announced, no one would come looking for me. Not even the original protagonist.
[A shame. I'd have loved to have my way with her.]
I would simply be forgotten as the shrewd tyrant of a bygone era. In any case—
'Once I'm out of the Empire, maybe I'll open a small orphanage?'
Until recently, I'd been famous as a tyrant with a violent temper. But with my past life awakened, I was a little closer to being a decent person. Granted, I still hadn't adjusted, so I remained sharp-tongued with people.
Well, that would smooth out with time, surely.
I was in the middle of designing my future healing life when—
Creeeak.
"So this is where you are. Queen Maria."
The executioner from earlier had brought a friend along. The men who would behead my clone tomorrow? Or perhaps they'd come so I could make their acquaintance in advance.
"What is your business?"
When I frowned and asked, the executioner gave a hearty laugh and set down some food. Along with a set of chains.
"Since you never ordered dinner, we've decided to ration you ourselves. Put on the chains and eat."
Hm. Not that I wanted to, but no helping it. If I refused to eat, it would raise suspicion. Until tomorrow's magical inspection, lying low and enduring was the right move. The odds of being caught were slim, but you never know how things will go with people.
I was a prisoner now; quietly doing as I was told was only natural.
"Heh. Not to your liking? But this is your last supper, so eat it proper, by the etiquette of the Empire."
"Confident to the very end, for a woman about to die."
He shot me a look of pure contempt. Yes, my past self had done unspeakable things as a tyrant, but—
"What are you still doing here? Leave."
—that was all before I awakened to my past life. The me who'd received those memories was closer to a modern person than a tyrant.
"...Chains are on, I see."
"Fine, fine. Let Her Majesty eat, and let's go."
With that, the prisoners filed out obediently. I heard them snickering on the way out, but I paid it no mind.
Freedom was just around the corner! The future where I'd become the eroge's brood sow had vanished, and only a leisurely life in the countryside remained!
I chewed and swallowed. I'd been starving and holding out anyway, so once the executioners left, I ate greedily. Of course I did—they'd never fed the prisoners anything.
I had reinforced my body with mana, true. But perception magic ate up so much of it that I had almost nothing left in reserve. I needed to eat fast and rebuild my strength.
"Hm? Was steak always this bland?"
No idea. As long as it was edible, it was fine. Obviously!
The next day, the time for inspection arrived. I had to stay focused. Once it cleared, I would cast my stealth magic and slip out of this place—naturally crafting a decoy clone to take my place, as planned. All of it required High-Tier Sorcery.
The fools of the Empire, convinced I'd truly lost my power, had apparently posted nothing but rank-and-file guards. Tch. Clever, these revolutionaries. They should have at least left behind the Hero, whose magical perception was second to none. Their mistake.
That was when it happened.
"Your Majesty. We have the final inspection. Are the chains properly fastened?"
"They are."
The sentry at the checkpoint narrowed his eyes, seemingly displeased with my proud, imperious tone—but at least he wasn't a man ruled by emotion.
"Then we'll begin by removing your clothes."
That I had to expose my royal body to creatures like these was humiliation enough. But I was no fool so blinded by the present that I'd gamble away my future.
"Very well."
"One moment."
"What is it now?"
"I will remove them."
"You insolent—"
"The Queen is a prisoner. You think your word carries any weight with us? Stop your posturing and comply like a good girl."
Right. Humiliating as it was, I was a prisoner. Following the checkpoint sentry's word was the correct call.
"Then we'll start with the pants—"
And the instant the sentry's fingers touched my trousers—
"Nngh...!"
Something strange spilled from my lips. What? Had my perception magic turned against me? I hadn't felt anything, and yet it looked as if I had? No—impossible. With this magnificent body, there was no chance I'd fumbled a mere manipulation of magic. Then what on earth was that moan?
"Pfft. My, my, Your Majesty. You must have been holding back for quite some time?"
"W-wait a moment. I was merely startled. Your nails are rather long, you see. Women don't care for—"
"And here?"
"Ungh—!"
"So the tyrant queen is nothing special after all."
Another moan escaped me. Only then did I face reality. My body was burning. Like a beast in heat, every nerve ending was screaming with sensitivity. Why? My magic should have been flawless. The only thing that had changed was...
"The chains?"
"Only now you notice? The Empire isn't incompetent enough to miss your magic, Your Majesty. After all, it's the very nation you built."
"Impossible! Even for the greatest of mages, a complete sealing of mana is—"
"It's a new technology, you see. Developed by the revolutionary army—your army, funnily enough. Some remarkably talented mercenary turned up recently, or so I hear. I imported it myself. How about that?"
A mercenary? The only wildcard who could appear at this point in time was... the protagonist. But it was far too early for him to show up.
"Seems you have leisure enough to get lost in thought."
Squeeeeeze...
The sentry pinched between my legs. A woman's most intimate flesh. Of all times—of all places—to be caught hypersensitive...
"Hah..."
"No resistance? So the tyrant of the Empire was nothing but a despairing bitch in heat."
"Th-that's a lie! I merely hold still out of propriety. I feel nothing at the hands of the likes of you—"
"Even like this?"
"Ngh—ooooh!"
MHang—no. Moans burst from my mouth. My thoughts dissolved. I couldn't resist. I had to cast my stealth spell and get out, now—and yet I didn't even have the room to move. The more the man's fingers worked at my pussy, the more...
"S-stop this. How dare you lay hands... h-how dare you, on my royal body—"
"Now, once more!"
"Haaah... nngh...!"
"Keep it down. You're loud."
"Mmph...!"
Now the sentry was sealing my mouth as well. My strength gave out entirely, my legs fell open on either side, and my pussy was exposed all the more. And the hand pressing into it grew rougher with every moment.
"Nnngh!"
"Honestly. Even gagged, you scream."
"N-no! That's not what I—"
"Who else is here but me? Did a ghost drop by?"
"Silence! I'll tear out that tongue of—"
Thud!
The sentry's fist drove into my stomach. A heavy, suffocating blow that stole the air from my lungs—and with my body in this wretched, sensitized state on top of it. I could hold back no longer.
Trickle...
"Whoa! That's incredible! One punch and you come?"
"Kh—khh... ha... haha... hahaha..."
"For someone who can't stay quiet, you're awfully breathless. Can't keep it down?"
Just as I tried to shout again—
"Hey, Laiks. You still not done with the inspection? Wrap it up already."
A voice drifted down from the top of the stairs. It matched one of the executioners I'd seen yesterday.
'No. If they figure it out—!'
Something far worse might be done to me. The situation was degrading enough as it was, but I absolutely could not let the men who sneered at me see this.
The plan had collapsed. It was no longer about slipping away with stealth magic—first I had to sever these chains!
Then the sentry, Laiks, scratched the back of his head and answered.
"Still a ways to go. The execution is in two hours, isn't it? There's plenty of time yet."
"Orders are to get her to the scaffold. Quickly."
"Haha, understood. I'll have her there in ten minutes."
"See that you are."
The voice from the stairs ended there. He had presumably left his post.
That was when the sentry seized my hair, hard.
"You insolent—!"
"Still don't understand your position? Or maybe you don't mind showing this side of yourself to my superiors?"
"..."
"Ten minutes. Ten minutes. Within that time, wring the seed out of me—with your mouth. Succeed, and I'll take the chains off and let you go."
"You're serious?"
"Assuming you succeed, of course."
Hah.
A moment ago, that was carelessness. Nothing more. I couldn't properly wield my mana, true. But a sliver of aura still remained. Small as it was, it would be more than enough to put a lowly checkpoint sentry in his place.
The conditions of defeat were simple: I would be the first to pull my mouth away. If that was all—easy.
"Very well."
"However, there is one condition."
A condition?
"If you lose, I hand you over to the executioners exactly as you are—drenched in my seed. What happens after that is between you and them. Negotiate, sell your body, do whatever suits you."
"I don't care. After all—I have no intention of losing."