Chapter 12: S1. The Prince, The Flower, And The Resistance - 2
Chapter 12: S1. The Prince, The Flower, And The Resistance - 2
Chapter 12: S1. The Prince, The Flower, And The Resistance - 2
? S1. The Prince, The Flower, And The Resistance – 2 ?
Warmth.
The girl’s hand led to a place filled with warmth. For you, who spent nights homeless on the streets, it had been a while since you had felt such comfort.
Crackle. Crack. There was firewood quietly burning in the fireplace and three slices of bacon sizzling in the pan hanging above. You salivated at the aroma and the sound of the sizzles.
As you were distracted by the bacon, the female mercenary cooking by the fireplace tapped the frying pan with a spoon.
Red hair like flickering flames. A large scar that crossed her face. Fierce and wild eyes. Light but sturdy leather armor.
You remembered the way to assess combat power as taught by the boy knight. Things like whether they were armed with a dagger, and if so, how worn the handle was.
The female mercenary had a dagger at her waist, its handle considerably worn. To quote the boy knight, she seemingly had the capabilities of a ‘widely-known veteran among mercenaries’.
In your days as the Second Prince, such a person wouldn’t have caught your eye, but now, without power or money, she posed a significant threat. If she was hostile, it was even more so.
As you tensed up, preparing to draw on your mana, the girl who had led you here intervened first.
“Ronya, I’m back!”
“Centra, who’s that next to you? Another stray dog you’ve picked up?”
“Don’t say stray dog! That’s rude to say to a person!”
“If he’s in rags and starving, he’s no different from a stray dog. You, say your name.”
You hesitated briefly. Your name, once a source of pride, now carried a different meaning in this world.
As you bit your lip in silence, killing intent began to fill the eyes of Ronya, the female mercenary. After all, a person who couldn’t even reveal their name was obviously suspicious.
That was when someone gently touched the back of your hand.
Despite startling, you pretended to be calm and turned your gaze. When you did so, you saw that Centra, the girl who showed you kindness –and was continuing to do so even at this moment– had lightly touched your hand.
Even that light contact gave courage. After all, it almost felt as if she was telling you, ‘It’s okay.’.
“……I am Irid.”
“Irid? Wither Emperor Irid?”
“????.”
“No wonder you hesitated. Anyone would have a bad impression after hearing that name. To be stuck with such a name. You really are unlucky, huh?”
Ronya chuckled, then spoke in a lower, more threatening tone.
“Don’t cause trouble and leave quietly as soon as you can. Centra might want to help every poor beggar she sees, but I’m not like that. I’m more of the type to kill people like you.”
“……I was never taught to repay kindness with enmity.”
“I wasn’t taught not to kill beggars either.”
“Stop!”
Centra jumped in between you and Ronya.
“I appreciate your concern, Ronya. But this Irid seems like a good person. You don’t have to be so wary!”
“On what basis?”
“When I jumped off from the third floor…..he turned his head away like a gentleman. Let’s go, Irid! Oh, is it okay if I call you casually? Come this way! We have really tasty stew today!”
You were led away once again.
By her gentle touch, her sun-like radiant smile, and the faint scent of rosemary that brushed past your nose.
===============================================================
Being a prince of the Empire meant meeting many people and letting many go.
Of course, this included women. It was even more of the case for the Imperial Family because they actively used arranged marriages.
Second Prince Irid had met many noble ladies and understood their very nature. From their strong perfume and masks of pretense to their thirst for power and feigned accidents in an attempt to initiate physical contact.
Irid swore he had never once felt his heart flutter.
Their intentions were far too blatant; those eyes looked at Irid as if he were only a treasure chest.
One day, Irid would surely be in an arranged marriage. But he never thought the foolish emotion of love would arise in that process.
…..Thus, the faint fluttering he felt now must be some mistake.
“How’s the stew?”
Centra looked at Irid eating, cupping her face with both hands like a blooming flower. Her round eyes were clear and devoid of any pretense.
“It is delicious. A truly excellent…….dish.”
Irid found himself unable to meet her gaze directly; a gaze that held neither intimidation nor sharpness. His heart raced and he felt his emotions bouncing in an unusual direction.
He told himself it was because his mind was shaken from his first-ever experience of being homeless for three days, thus leading him to overreact to such simple kindness. The Second Prince repeatedly tried to steady his emotions.
“That’s a relief. I was worried it might not suit your taste!”
“I am not in a situation to be picky. Anything given would be good. Besides, I do not wish to be so shameless as to demand more from someone who is helping me.”
“See, I knew I had a good eye for people…..! Ronya always nags me about how ‘You’re not wary and cautious enough-’, but I have my own ways of thinking, you know? Look! Irid turned out to be a good person!”
Seemingly pleased with Irid’s response, Centra happily praised her own judgment.
He felt odd about being called a good person just for being modest. Had he ever been this embarrassed from being commended for something so fundamental?
While listening to Centra’s chatter, Irid scooped another spoonful of stew. It was not as exquisite as the delicacies he had tasted before, but the warmth that comforted him was nice.
It seemed to contain a fair amount of meat. He could feel the greasy aftertaste. And it seemed like there was some herb to counteract the gaminess. Was it perhaps white grass? If not…..
“By the way, you really didn’t see under my skirt, right?”
“??Keuk, kuk, cough cough cough??!”
Irid choked on the stew he was savoring, assaulted with a sudden fit of coughing.
“Oh my! I-I’m sorry! I was just asking……Here, have some water!”
“Cough, cough cough……Be aware….of who….Cough….you’re speaking to…..when saying such words!”
“Here, drink some water. I’ll pound your back for you. Huh, or am I supposed to pound your stomach?”
Centra thumped Irid’s back, making his whole body vibrate. Fearing that he might choke on the water too, Irid gestured for her to stop.
Irid drank water to calm his coughing fit.
“Huff, phew…..”
“So, you really didn’t see, right?”
“……Didn’t you yourself mention that I didn’t in front of the mercenary named Ronya?”
“I wasn’t exactly sure, but I just blurted it out. I thought Ronya might throw you out. So, your answer?”
“I didn’t see it. I swear.”
“Phew, it’s fine if you didn’t see it. I thought I got caught not wearing any.”
“No, I definitely saw black……”
“So you did see!”
Trapped by her persistent questioning, Irid quietly bowed his head.
Black. Frills. A small, precious red ribbon. Slightly translucent.
It was an unforgettable combination.
Centra stammered while blushing slightly.
“I didn’t ask for no reason, you know……Like, people might misunderstand, right? A-About how someone wearing t-this kind of underwear means they’re like that and would do those things……..And things like that! I wanted to clarify that misconception.”
“I never had such a misconception.”
To jump to a conclusion like ‘lewd underwear surely meant she was a used woman’ was beyond even a unicorn’s imagination.
For Irid, it wasn’t something new.. He had always encountered noble ladies in bold underwear as part of their aggressive approaches. However, he had never felt so embarrassed before.
“I don’t have money, but I do want to wear pretty clothes. Like dresses or jewelry……Things like that! So, since underwear has the smallest surface area, it doesn’t even cost that much……….?”
“Enough, enough!”
Irid stopped the overload of TMI with a pained expression. It was because he was scared of how much more this naïve girl might reveal.
He now understood why Ronya, the mercenary, was always hovering around Centra.
===============================================================
“SUIIIIIIIIIIIIII-! LEZ GOOOOOOOOO-!!”
“Is the fact that the Prince saw panties something to be that happy about……..?!”
I didn’t care whether the Tower Master thought I was a lunatic or not.
I had protected my pride in my performance!
The Tower Master bonked me, who was striking a victory pose, in the head while speaking.
“Mmmm, so…….Are you planning to seduce the Prince like this and get the Dragon Heart……?
The ‘Are you actually gay?’ Gaze Season 2. This was unacceptable slander.
I firmly shook my head.
“Nope.”
“So, what’s your plan now?”
Seeing how the Tower Master asked what was next, it seemed she was finally showing interest in TRPG. I openly shared my plan.
“First, the plot I initially thought of has gone to shit.”
“Gone to shit, huh.”
Yep, it had gone to shit.
I conceded defeat to the level of event avoidance that would make even an academy extra cry. The timing just wasn’t right. Even if I started a territory-based plot now, there wasn’t enough time.
Wasn’t this supposed to be a three-hour teaser anyway? I planned to lay the groundwork, scatter some hints, and then end the session, maximizing the effect of a cliffhanger.
It’s just that the Second Prince’s footwork when it came to avoiding events was so profound and mysterious that time had become scarce.
But to end it with just mindless ‘Nadenade’ was lacking in romance.
There were no gains either. ‘Nadenade was fun, but the early part of the session was insulting. Die.’ That could be a possible reaction, wasn’t it? As such, I needed a hostage.
I had to introduce a quick build up in a short time / advance the plot / make the session fun and meaningful. I had to make him want to play again. That was the only thought I had from the very start.
Luckily, now I had a leash. That guy, the Prince, was surprisingly weak to physical contact. It was clear as day that his brain seemed to bleach whenever Centra just held his hand, even though she wasn’t even shooting some Hypnotic Brain Beam.
If things went awry or became awkward, now I just needed to grab his hand!
“His affection level isn’t high enough yet. I need to release Centra’s character settings a bit more and once the bond with the player is stronger, I can set off an incident. Probably around……another two sessions after.”
“I don’t understand even if you say th……? Mmm, but you know.”
“Yes, please speak.”
“About Centra’s modeling. Was it okay to use Heart?”
“……Well, would there be any problems with it?”
I brushed off the question nonchalantly after a brief thought.
Really, why would there ever be an issue? The Second Prince had never seen /genesisforsaken