My heart was finally beginning to rest after the strain of recent days. I couldn’t quite relax yet, but at least I was feeling a little more like myself. It was a relief to see Sid and Lynx speaking openly with the prince, though I could tell the paladins felt a bit outmatched and uneasy. I let the conversation flow, savoring the freedom of not being the center of attention.
As we walked toward the castle, we learned that Prince Kotusawendu—or “Kotu,” as he told us to name him —was here to await a guest from a neighboring kingdom. Together, we were expected to journey to a regional celebration hosted by Fiona, Duchess of Cromwall. The invitation included me as well, as Lady Quersaw—Samantha to friends, and daughter of the Count of Quersaw—had brought my invitation with her.
It seemed this celebration was the single most important noble gathering for the entire governorate—the prime opportunity to connect with other nobles. The governor, along with the most influential nobles, would be attending.
Why the prince and his retinue had arrived several days before the rest of the delegation was still a mystery to me. Perhaps he simply wanted to travel and see new places? Whatever the reason, he certainly seemed content to be on the road.
With all these new names swirling around, I felt a bit overwhelmed and worried I’d forget at least half of them by tomorrow. But in the end, it wouldn’t matter as much. What mattered was that I had finally reconnected with Sid and Lynx.
*
Mike was furious with himself. The last time he’d seen Lores, he’d forgotten to remind her to reset his curse. When he finally remembered, he’d put it off, waiting for a better moment—and now she was off somewhere. He knew she was incredibly busy, and he’d wasted his chance back at the pit. Now, all he could do was wait and survive until she returned.
Taking a steadying breath, he moved carefully to his room’s balcony. He scanned his surroundings, checking everything before settling into the recliner. After so many rainy days, it was a perfect sunny day, and he was determined to at least enjoy a bit of the sun.
It was already the second day since Lores had reset his curse, and he knew he couldn’t give it even the smallest chance. He’d learned to live with it, figuring out ways to blunt its effects. The best strategy was simple: do nothing. The curse was like a mischievous little gremlin lurking in the shadows, waiting to seize any opportunity to cause him harm. The trick was to deny it those chances. On the first day, that pesky gremlin might only manage to make him drop something or cause some small mishap, but the longer it waited, the stronger it grew. That’s why he’d decided not to leave his apartment; though, in his mind, the balcony still counted as part of it.
The curse likely fed off his mana—a diabolical routine, so complex yet so simple, gathering mana over time to fuel some mischievous spells. Like any piece of software, it should have its weaknesses, especially as it relied on the physical world to function. Only, in this case, that world included magic. That's why it worked in this world and did not work in the other! He chuckled at his own theory: spells as a type of code.
Dressed in only his shorts and a bath towel, he adjusted the pillows and settled comfortably into the wooden recliner. After a sip of tea, his eyes drifted to his small game device on the table. It was a battery-powered gadget he’d luckily had in his pocket when he’d come to this world. He picked it up, scrolling for a game. Use it or lose it, he thought, knowing the battery would die eventually, but it would still give him a good few hours of play.
He started a game, one eye still on the entry gate. The second he saw Lores arrive, he’d wave her down to remind her.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
*
Dame Anda was having a bad day. The prince had left early in the morning without asking her to join him. Being just a stand-in, an intermediary between the prince and his beloved Fara, had begun to feel deeply unsettling. She had started to dread those sessions.
At first, she’d been excited when she heard what would be asked of her. As the fifth daughter of a low-ranking noble, her chances of advancing in society had been limited, especially for someone with few gifts. Her looks were unremarkable, and she’d never displayed any magical talent or remarkable abilities, nor had she shown much drive to work and gain levels.
She was, as adventurers would say, at level six. She could cast a few basic spells—light a candle, and on a good day, manage a minor firebolt every few hours. That had been her proudest achievement, but it wasn't nearly enough to earn her any real recognition.
At first, the chance to travel with the prince, to be part of his entourage, and to play a secret role had seemed too good to be true. She couldn’t believe her luck. The attention and the intrigue surrounding her mission were thrilling. Rumors flew—some believed the prince had finally gotten over his obsession with Fara, while others suspected she must have some hidden magical talent, like divination. Surely it couldn’t be her looks, so they assumed it was something more mysterious!
But the excitement soon faded. The truth was disappointingly mundane: to the prince, she was nothing more than a means to communicate with Fara. She’d even started to hate those moments when he touched her hand, knowing it wasn’t meant for her. Why else would he leave her alone, save for their ‘meeting hours’?
She held herself in high regard and had hoped the prince might grow to admire, if not love her. What a disappointment it had been. In her mind, she was far too clever and witty for this shallow prince! After all, wasn't his own mother a mere daughter of a lesser noble? It was he who was the peasant between them, not she.
As she wandered through the upper floors of the castle, lost in her seething thoughts about the prince, a faint and unusual sound caught her attention. It was a strange mix of beeps and chirps, rhythmic and oddly captivating—like nothing she’d ever heard before.
Curious, she moved closer to the balustrade and peered down, scanning for the source. Two floors below, she spotted a man lounging on a balcony, sunbathing. At first, she thought he held a small creature, maybe a bird or some other animal in his hands. But as she squinted, she saw it wasn’t alive—it was something square and reflective, like a crystal that caught the sun’s light. And yet, she could swear she saw small images moving across it.
What kind of spell could produce such magic? He was tapping his fingers across its surface with a look of concentration. She leaned over the balustrade, trying to get a better view, fascinated and mystified by whatever strange enchantment this was.
*
Mike had just managed to line up the falling geometric pieces perfectly and was on the cusp of reaching a new level when a sharp, startled yelp caught his attention. He looked up, searching for the source, just as something heavy crashed down on him. The impact knocked him backward in the chair, and when he blinked away the shock, he saw a figure sprawled on the floor in front of him—a woman lying flat on her back, her legs now draped over his.
As he tried to regain his bearings, he noticed the body in front of him twitching in a few final spasms before going completely still. Panic started to surge as he tried to move but found he couldn’t. His neck, he realized with growing dread, must have snapped. He couldn’t cry out, couldn’t even speak. He was trapped, utterly helpless.
A dark stain began to seep from the back of the woman’s head, spreading slowly across the stone floor of the balcony. Her face, fixed with a strangely calm expression, seemed to gaze up at the sky as though searching for answers. His handheld device emitted a few insistent beeps, and soon enough, the chilling note “Game Over” flashed across the screen in the silence that followed.