Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I despaired. If I was going to avoid the celebration, I had to talk to Derrick, not the duke. There was no way of knowing how that would impact his affection score.

If it had been Reynold, I would have tried getting out of it.

I considered his affection score, newly risen above zero, and sighed. Maintaining 0% was hard enough as it was. I didn’t dare gamble on Derrick’s reaction.

“M-my lady... are you all right? You look pale,” Emily said cautiously, seeing the glum look on my face.

“I need to think. Please leave,” I said, waving her away lazily. I sighed heavily as soon as she left.

“Ha...”

I would die if I went and I would die if I stayed. What a nasty game this was. I already missed the days spent locked in my room, which seemed heavenly in comparison to this mess.

“I suppose I’ll have to do my best to avoid him.”

I tried to remember what I could about the game, but nothing came to me. While playing hard mode, I’d met the crown prince in a garden maze at the palace, and he’d killed me before we could even have a proper conversation. It had happened over and over again; I’d had to hit the reset button what must have been every five seconds.

“I guess I should just try and say that I’m too sick to go...”

Ah.

Then I was struck with a great idea.

“Should I try dying?” I wondered aloud. It seemed reasonable. Maybe if I died, I’d wake up in the real world.

Game over was game over, right?

It was better to give up now rather than struggle toward a happy ending with one of these incompetent men. Besides, the game had a reset button.

Just the idea of it was thrilling: a reset button.

Unlike the user interface in the actual game, I couldn’t see buttons that would allow me to access the settings or go back; the only thing that appeared right now was the white box that showed dialogue choices. But there had been an option to turn off the dialogue. Who was to say there wasn’t a reset button, too?

“Why didn’t I think of this before?”

As long as there was a reset button, there was no harm in trying.

“All right.”

I’d meet the crown prince and let him kill me!

* * *

The maids woke me up earlier than usual, and the extra hours were spent making me presentable. I bathed in milky water mixed with scented oils and received a massage and facial pack treatment. This boring procedure was repeated multiple times. When I finally escaped the bathroom and sat in front of the dressing table, I was already drained of energy. Things were far from over, though.

“My lady, what do you think of this dress? It’s completely new. You bought it and haven’t worn it yet.”

“What about these earrings? I think they would look lovely with that dress.”

“I think a half-up hairstyle would be better than a bun. What do you suggest, my lady?”

“How should we do the makeup—”

The maids’ chattering was endless.

Do they really hate Penelope?

They were so excited it was like they were the ones going to the party, not me. I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. The multiple facial packs and the bath looked to have been effective, at least. My skin seemed to shine.

I suppose it would be fun to play dress-up with someone this beautiful.

Understanding the maids’ reaction a little better, I nodded and said, “Bring me a different dress with a more modest neckline. I’ll wear minimal accessories. Beyond that, I don’t really care.”

“What?”

The maids looked shocked. One of them hastily added, “But my lady, this is a party being held at the imperial palace...” She trailed off but her meaning was clear: I needed to look my absolute best.

The red dress with a low neckline they’d brought me was well suited to Penelope’s dark pink hair. The accessories matched perfectly; they would only highlight and enhance her beauty. I wasn’t going to the palace to parade around like a peacock, however. I couldn’t tell them I was going there to die, though. I decided to just respond as Penelope would have.

“Just do as I say. There’s no need to overdo it,” I said coldly.

The maids looked put out but protested no further, retreating to the dressing room. They brought back three dresses, all subdued and modest unlike the previous dress.

“This one,” I said, selecting a dark green evening dress. It covered even my collarbones completely, and the dark color wouldn’t make me stand out.

After changing into the dress, I made sure the maids kept the makeup light. I chose to wear only a pair of earrings—tiny emerald stones that matched the color of Penelope’s eyes. Once I was fully dressed, I checked my reflection in the mirror and found an austere girl who could have been headed to church staring back at me.

This should keep me from attracting any attention.

I was satisfied, but the maids looked disappointed.

“Everyone leave except Emily,” I said, sending them all away. I had an extra request for my personal maid. “Emily. Would you fetch me some gloves that are the same color as my dress?”

“My lady, you’re going to wear gloves, too?”

It would complete the pious look. Emily seemed hesitant, as if she were unwilling to give up on this last point.

“Of course. I can’t have anyone seeing these, can I?” I reminded her with a deliberate tone, raising the hand that I’d pierced with the needle a few days ago. The scabs had healed, and the needle marks had almost faded to nothing. However, there was no telling what eagle-eyed individuals might be present at the party.

Emily blanched when she saw the marks.

“Go and bring some gloves,” I said again.

“Y-yes!”

She hurried away, and I clicked my tongue. I’d been kind to her recently, and she seemed to mistakenly assume at times that I actually liked her. I needed to keep her on a tighter leash.

After slipping the gloves on, I was finally ready to go to the palace.

* * *

Derrick scanned my appearance when I arrived at the front gate and looked surprised.

“I guess your punishment has taught you something.”

We hadn’t seen each other in days, but he hadn’t lost his sarcastic, biting tone. I had no time to be angry at him, though, the glowing letters above his head grabbing my attention.

[Affection Score 5%]

Huh? When did that go up?

Derrick’s affection score had risen without my knowing. A whole 5%, too! I was nonplussed. How much did he hate Penelope, that his affection score had risen after only a few days apart?

I should have tried telling him I was sick, after all, I thought, lamenting that I hadn’t known about this.

It was too late, though. A fancy carriage, engraved with the Eckhart coat of arms, was waiting at the gate. I nodded to him and held out a hand to the knight standing nearby, since the carriage was higher than I’d expected. I was too busy gathering up the folds of my dress to take note of what Derrick was doing.

Settling into my seat, I turned my head to find Derrick holding out his hand to no one in particular and staring at me with a stiff expression.

What’s he doing? I wondered. We would have to leave soon if we were to make it on time. There was no way he’d ride in the same carriage as Penelope, so I waited for the carriage door to shut. Instead, Derrick suddenly joined me in the carriage.

Wh-what? Why are you coming in? I racked my brain, trying to quickly figure out if I’d done something to make him angry, but I couldn’t think of anything at all. We’d just met and exchanged greetings, nothing more. And yet, Derrick sat himself directly across from me.

I was so confused that I blurted out, “Y-you’re riding with me?”

Derrick frowned at this.

“Is there a problem?”

“N-no, of course not.”

What is this? You’ve never acted like this before! I shook my head quickly to prevent myself from saying anything. Derrick was already scowling deeply, however.

“If you don’t want to share the carriage with me, why don’t you find yourself another?” he spat coldly.

I glanced at the door, seriously considering the suggestion. He’d already closed the door on his way in, though, and it would be silly to open it again and get out.

“I don’t... dislike it,” I said, turning back to Derrick and forcing myself to say the words. “I... like this…?”

I cautiously studied his reaction. He stopped glaring at me and eventually turned away from me altogether.

You obviously hate it. Why are you making both of us uncomfortable like this?

Was this a new way of picking on me? I was flabbergasted by his cold behavior, but a glance at the text above his head calmed me somewhat.

[Affection Score 6%]

It had risen by 1%.

I stared, surprised, and the carriage lurched forward.

Fine. Here’s hoping nothing goes wrong.

I had an affection score of 6% to fall back on, after all. It was hardly likely that all 6% would vanish in the short time it took for us to travel to the palace, was it? I decided I would make the best of the situation.

It didn’t take me long to regret staying in the carriage with him.

This is unbearable! Somebody help!

* * *

My patience was tried to the very limit as the carriage moved toward the palace. I enjoyed the view of the cold but handsome man, legs and arms crossed as he sat with an aloof look on his face, but that was only a fleeting distraction.

The silence in the carriage was suffocating. I twitched, wondering if I should open the carriage window, but Derrick’s stare landed on me as soon as I moved, forcing me to sit still. If I so much as fidgeted in discomfort, his eyes would open, and he’d turn his ghostly blue glare on me.

Damn it, why are you looking at me like that?

I kept glancing at the [Affection Score 6%] above his head and sweating. I cheered internally when the carriage finally came to a stop. I hadn’t been able to move a muscle for most of the ride. I would finally be able to escape from the oppressive silence.

As soon as I open that door, the first thing I’m going to do is breathe some fresh air.

However, as soon as the carriage rolled to a stop Derrick jumped up and disappeared out the door.

“Here,” he said, holding out his hand.