Abella (1)
Computers were spreading rapidly across the capital and major cities.
Rational prices, capabilities far ahead of their time, and massive promotion from the Bergin Consortium.
Hundreds of factories churned nonstop, and the machines were sold the moment they rolled off the lines.
“...This is all costing how much.”
Rose Dicles stared at the Bergin Consortium’s settlement ledger, rubbing her eyes and repeatedly counting the digits.
“Sister... look at this? It’s almost the annual budget of an entire nation.”
“...It’s a lot.”
Ten platinum coins invested in the Blue Magic Tower had blown up like crazy. Even Bitcoin would have been happy to match the returns.
More than anything, it felt unreal. Even with my previous life, I’d never really spent money until now.
The same went for the magic tower.
The moment a computer sold, the tower took its cut. Thanks to that, the tower’s finances had recovered dramatically.
“Huhu...”
Iria looked even more beautiful than usual, as if glowing from within.
“Ah... thank you for the allowance again today, Master Reven.”
“Recently... did I give you anything?”
“Huhu, Master Reven, isn’t just existing enough of a reason to feed me?”
Lately Iria had been showing me clear affection. I wasn’t sure if she thought of me as a benefactor.
Warm and sincere, like my sister’s.
Yet somehow it felt too deep sometimes.
If I plunged my hand in, it should feel cool, but once I did, it felt like I was being pulled straight in and swallowed whole.
“If there’s anything you want me to research, I’ll help. I can even open all the labs in the Blue Magic Tower.”
“That’s very kind, but...”
“If you need anything, my room too—”
“W-wait!”
Rose cut Iria off. Iria tilted her head innocently.
“What?”
“I-I’m your fiancé...”
Rose Dicles.
We called each other “sister” and “brother” casually, but in truth I was engaged to her in a political marriage.
Fiery red hair.
Crimson eyes a shade deeper.
Even standing still, she turned heads. She carried the grace of a noble lady and the proud bearing of a Dicles ducal daughter.
“Fiancé... so that means...”
Though right now her pride seemed a little shaken.
Rose looked embarrassed even after saying it herself, her cheeks flushed as if steam might rise from her head.
I was the third son of the Graham barony.
A noble, but the lowest of the low before a ducal house.
It should have been an engagement mentioned in passing at best.
Instead, when I was young, the Duke of Dicles had seen me playing chess and decided to propose a political marriage in the name of investing in my potential.
Of course the Graham barony accepted.
After countless meetings, the Dicles family had practically moved in like at home, and here we were.
“Of course I know.”
“...Huh?”
Iria smiled in a way that gave me goosebumps.
“How could I not know about Master Reven’s personal details?”
“Eh... really?”
Why was I believing this?
“And you can bring Rose along too, right?”
“T-that... I’m not ready yet... Being alone with a man and woman under one roof... No, three is weird. Really weird.”
Just as Rose came to her senses, Iria stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.
“Then let’s start with just the two of us...”
“W-wait! M-Magic Tower Master! No, Iria!”
Rose protested with a panicked voice, but Iria ignored her and rubbed Rose’s cheek like a puppy.
Oh, this was... fire and water entangling right in front of me. Endless inspiration exploded in my head.
Rose’s gaze slid toward me. Ah, her shy expression was art.
Honestly, I hadn’t thought I didn’t feel anything. We’d known each other since childhood, and I didn’t dislike Rose.
But people have priorities.
Rose reached out weakly. I gently caught her hand.
“P-please...”
“Sister.”
“Yeah...”
“Want to make another game?”
Rose closed her eyes quietly. She must have sensed I wouldn’t help.
I realized it after making Tetras last time.
I enjoyed playing games myself, but watching someone else play was just as fun.
The computer’s introduction had gone well. Nobles, merchants, even magic towers and government offices in the capital and major cities were scrambling to get one.
The problem was that computers were still expensive.
The magic stones for the core were costly, and you needed special charging stones for long sessions. It was a reasonable price compared to the function, but commoners found it hard to buy on mere curiosity.
So how could I spread games to the world?
The idea that rose was the old arcade.
A space where multiple people could play a single machine.
The next game I’d make would be a fighting game.
***
“...What is this?”
Rose muttered, staring at the screen.
A square that looked like a head.
A square that claimed to be a torso.
Two straight lines forced to look like arms.
“It’s a character.”
Thwack.
It had attacked.
...Probably.
“...Did you just hit it?”
The scarecrow we’d set up for testing clearly had stamina left. Yet its smile seemed to mock me.
“...Master Reven’s creations always have reasons, Rose.”
Iria’s pupils were trembling wildly as she said it. Maybe covering this up was impossible.
“Hmm, is that all?”
Even I thought it was pretty weak.
No impact, no liveliness, no real image.
Still, I’d put in quite a bit of effort.
“Sister, share your vision.”
Rose had deep knowledge of sensory magic. She’d even been scouted directly by the head of the Crimson Magic Tower, but she’d turned them down.
Among them were spells that let you share sight, smell, or sound with others.
Rose placed her hand on my forehead and gently touched her own eyes. Crimson mana threads linked us.
I closed my eyes in my mind and opened them again. The developer filter vanished.
“...?”
An ugly thing stood before my eyes.
“Eww, gross. What is this?”
Clumsy objects, awkward characters, stiff motions.
Something worse than most trash games was being born. My handiwork was approaching a catastrophe.
This... was a crisis. An emergency.
“Anyone who can design?”
The two of them blinked.
“What is design?”
“What is design?”
The question was wrong.
“...Anyone who can draw?”
“...”
The silence stretched. Silence alone answered.
“W-what about hiring a painter?”
Painting in the medieval era was an advanced skill.
Paper was expensive, paint more so. On top of that, few people studied the human body, motion, colors, and composition.
Painting was record, symbol, authority.
Famous painters usually worked for the royal family, great nobles, or temples.
They painted portraits of kings, victory murals of heroes, and walls covered in myths.
Yeah, they drew well. But that wasn’t what I needed.
A motion of reaching out.
A hit and being pushed back.
A face twisted in pain.
An exaggerated motion right before a finisher.
...Would those stiff with status and authority even draw this?
Even that, with current technology, meant dot by dot. I’d need some affection for games to pull it off.
“...First, put up a recruitment notice.”
My first game development had been a total failure.
***
The innermost part of the palace.
A small palace with extremely restricted entry for outsiders.
The white marble corridors were always spotless, and flowers that changed with the seasons never wilted. Curtained with the best honeysuckle at the windows, not a speck of dust on the floor.
Every morning the maids quietly opened the doors and filled the air with fresh breeze.
At noon the court physician checked my pulse.
At evening the etiquette master reviewed tomorrow’s lessons in a low voice.
Was there a more perfect world than this?
Safe. Quiet.
Breathless.
Abella de Direv, Third Princess of the Direv Kingdom.
She called it a gilded cage. She’d never said it out loud.
If she told the maids, they’d all look sad.
She’d been sick as a child.
For three days and nights the fever wouldn’t break, and the royal physicians bowed their heads outside the door.
At the same time, her mother, the queen, passed away.
From then on, he started removing the dangerous things from his daughter’s side one by one.
Cold wind.
Strange people.
Distant outings.
Unscheduled events.
Rough play.
Noisy times with peers.
The king loved his daughter. He loved her terribly.
Every time, Abella’s world grew smaller.
Smaller. Smaller.
At some point, she could no longer leave her room without permission.
Even so, Abella never complained. She told herself it was the only way to reassure her father.
When her heart grew heavy, she drew. She painted the world she couldn’t watch, only in her imagination.
As long as the brush brushed the paper, she felt as if she was stepping out beyond the closed side palace.
***
Three times a week the king had dinner with Abella.
It was a schedule he set himself. No matter how busy the state affairs, how long the meetings, he never skipped dinner with his daughter.
“How is your health?”
“I’m fine, Father.”
Same background every time.
“Was today’s lesson difficult?”
“Yes.”
Same expression.
“The physician said not to overdo it.”
“I’ll be careful.”
Same lines every time.
The conversation was always like this.
Like repeating a play no one was watching.
When the meal ended, the king always asked the same question.
“Is there anything you want?”
Abella’s answer was always the same.
“No.”
***
Rumors spread from mouth to mouth.
The palace was no exception. Though she couldn’t go outside, Abella pressed her ears to the walls whenever she heard a sound.
If she was lucky, she got to hear interesting stories. It was the only joy for a girl.
“Did you play it yesterday?”
“What?”
“Tetras.”
When a word she didn’t know came out, Abella leaned in closer.
“Ah, that thing in the computer? It’s been trending lately.”
“It’s really weird. Just blocks falling, but I can’t stop. Last night I almost couldn’t get up.”
“Really? I haven’t played yet.”
“Try it. The capital is full of nothing but games right now.”
Tetras? Computer? Game?
Even Abella, who knew the names of noble children, had never heard these words.
In a world she didn’t know, people were talking about something together.
It was still light out. Not time to lie down yet.
Secretly, lying in bed, imagining the floating blocks. And reaching out.
“...Can’t catch it.”
Silk-wrapped pillows, seasonal dresses, dolls handmade by royal artisans, paintings by famous artists, books chosen by renowned scholars.
The only things she could hold with her own hands were those.
“Tetras.”
“Computer.”
“Game.”
Repeating the three unfamiliar words tumbling in her head.
Abella whispered.
“...I want to try it too.”
So small no one could hear.
***
“Is there anything you want?”
No.
Force the words rising to her tongue down. Just a tiny bit of courage would do.
“Father.”
Say it. Say it. Please.
I want something. I really want it.
Her heart raced wildly. Her lips trembled. Her hands and feet went cold.
Words rose in her throat. Yet.
She couldn’t.
“...No.”
“...”
The king looked at her for a moment. He seemed to sense something, but didn’t ask.
“All right. Don’t overdo it.”
“Yes, Father.”
The conversation ended there.
The maids quietly cleared the dishes, and the etiquette master recited tomorrow’s schedule in a soft voice.
Clink.
Abella closed the door to her room and sat on the bed.
Head down, arms wrapped around her legs.
One word would have been enough.
“Idiot.”