The Choice That Shouldn't Exist

Mockery lay thick and unmistakable in Dietrich's tone.

On her first playthrough she had thought that even a simple greeting was enough to set him off, but now that she had grown used to even those fits, it was merely tiresome.

Spit it out already and be done with it.

Why didn't this damned game even have a skip function, wearing a person down like this? Honestly, it could not have been more behind the times. A rotten bastard, through and through.

She had been grumbling to herself for some time when her head slowly lifted. Presepe stared in silence at Dietrich, lounging at a slant upon the throne.

Her first impression of Dietrich had been that of a cold-blooded man. Say one word wrong, and he looked as though he might take your head without a second thought—that was the uniquely murderous air that clung to him. And, well, he actually would.

That did not mean he was ugly, of course. Games like this were always the same. Every man who appeared had to be handsome. Otherwise there was no pleasure in capturing them. Dietrich was the one who covered the most mainstream, most ordinary taste in the familiar promise of surely one of these is your type.

"A base thing, with neither pride nor spirit."

As one could see, his mouth was filthy and his character twisted every which way.

Presepe's gaze rose above Dietrich's head.

The empty affection window met her eyes at once, and glittering choices burst into view.

Until now, Presepe had chosen the first without exception. Against a temper like wildfire, the only way to survive without talking back was to flatten herself and erase her own presence. It had been the same even when she had barely managed to reach Dietrich's canonical ending. No matter how vicious his words, he was a strange pervert who only grew thirstier for a Presepe who never grew angry and never let her feelings show.

So she decided on the third. She had to find the True Male Lead, and piling Dietrich's affection high from the very start did not seem as if it would do her a shred of good.

And then, all at once, a strange choice appeared.

At the sudden turn, Presepe's violet eyes clouded with confusion.

Wh-what is this?

Was she dreaming? But the new choice shone brightly, as if to prove it was really there. It did not even look like the others. It alone was framed in gilt, a pattern drawn around its border.

F-first I have to keep going.

Presepe seized her scattering wits and selected the third option.

"You don't sound well."

The moment she chose it, the strange choice glowing gold vanished at once. Dietrich faltered, just slightly, at her answer. He looked like a man who had heard something he had never expected.

Presepe was trembling too. It was the first time she had ever picked the third. She wasn't about to die the instant the game began, was she?

Contrary to her fear, the scripted lines spilled out smoothly.

"Your Majesty always catches a cold around this time of year."

"......"

"I only say it because I was worried. If I have offended you... I can only beg your pardon."

It was not a choice that ought to have crossed him. And yet no answer came. She was still puzzling over it when Dietrich suddenly shoved himself up from the throne.

He strode straight up to Presepe and seized a handful of her dazzling silver hair.

"...!"

At the unexpected pain, she flinched.

"Worried?" Dietrich said, sneering. "I don't believe a word out of your mouth. Least of all if it's meant to be worry for me!"

Five.

Affection began at zero, which meant the third choice had been worth five points. Unbelievable. Back when she had actually been trying to capture Dietrich, it was an answer she had never even dared select, too busy reading his mood. And they were handing her five points for it? Since when was she anyone's favorite?

Staring at the notification as it flashed and shone, Presepe swore under her breath. Well. Still better than a minus.

No matter the character, once affection dropped below zero you were killed before you ever saw an ending. She had lost count of how many times she had died. She had clawed her way to those endings precisely because she hated it, because it was horrifying—and the trouble was that even there, she had suffered something just as horrifying.

"You betrayed me, and now you think you can buy my favor with talk like that?"

Ah, this damned love and hatred of his. Not that she failed to understand his heart.

"......"

For a moment Dietrich said nothing. Instead he looked down at Presepe with a gaze steeped in countless emotions. What was he thinking? She could roughly guess, but only one thought filled her head.

If he would just... let go of my hair...

At last Dietrich flung her hair aside, and Presepe, shoved by a man's strength, staggered hard backward.

"...The celebration is tomorrow."

Since his accession, Dietrich had been too busy sweeping up the second prince's faction to think of anything else. He had been emperor for months already, and still he had not held a proper celebration.

"Some of the guests have already arrived. By tomorrow it will be even more crowded."

The celebration was the game's first fixed event. Aside from Dietrich, there were four male characters, and this was where she would meet three of them.

"In any case, there are people who know you exist, so it may be better if you attend."

As he said, people knew of Presepe. Which was to say they also knew she was no imperial princess of the emperor's blood, and that she and Dietrich were utter strangers. And still he said something so contradictory because he was testing her. He wanted to see how she would answer.

"What do you intend to do?"

With the question, the choices appeared.

Why again...!

At the bizarre choice that had sprung up out of nowhere, Presepe faltered. One thing, at least, was certain. That last option... that one got you killed.

The correct answers on Dietrich's route were the second and the third. In truth, he did not want Presepe at the celebration. The reason was simple: he did not want to show her to anyone else. He was afraid that if he did, she would abandon him and leave again. But the celebration was a fixed route, the first meeting with the other male characters, so even if she chose the second or the third she still ended up attending. All that changed was Dietrich's affection, by a little.

This time was different. She was not capturing him, so there was no reason to build his affection, and she absolutely had to attend. Every character in the game would be there. Who knew whether she might find the True Male Lead among them?

Presepe chose the first.

"I want to attend as well."

"......"

"Please allow it, Your Majesty."

Dietrich was silent for a moment, then muttered with a face that looked somehow bitter.

"Yes. Of course you would."

What?

"You'll need some way to mix with other people, one way or another."

She had never heard words like these in Normal Mode. Dietrich had only twisted his face, glared at her, and driven her out. And as if to explain why, a notice appeared again.

"But you'd do well not to get any foolish ideas."

"......"

"No matter how you struggle, nothing is going to change."

He almost looked like a man throwing a tantrum, as if no scheme of hers could ever carry her out of the Imperial Palace. It was a face she had never seen before.

"Get out."

"...Yes, Your Majesty."

Her thoughts had grown crowded, but her body rose on its own. Once again it was not her will, but an action required by the plot. Presepe offered a proper bow without another word and began to leave.

"Ugh, he nearly tore my hair out..."

Out in the empty corridor, Presepe muttered to herself.

"But what on earth was that?"

Dietrich's behavior was one thing. What kept snagging at her was something else entirely.

They were, of course, the choices that spoke her true feelings best. But anyone could see they were not normal.

...Could that be a bug too?

If that bug went and changed everything that came after... Through capture after capture and death after death, she had thought she understood this game as well as it could be understood, and suddenly that confidence felt as if it were caving in.

"No... I have to pull myself together. I have to find the male lead quickly and capture him."

He was the True Male Lead. The difficulty was sure to be higher, and she could not afford to waste time like this. Shuffling down the corridor, Presepe decided to sort through the characters she already knew. She had to look for anyone who might be of even a little help.