When Ash awoke, his mind was clouded with fragmented memories, leaving him unsure which were truly his. One thing, however, was painfully clear—the sharp, throbbing ache from the bump on his head. He jolted upright, gasping, his fingers instinctively pressing against the sore spot as he scanned his surroundings.

The room was small and modest, with stone walls supported by wooden beams, warmed by the faint glow of a low-burning hearth. Through a narrow, frost-covered window, pale morning light filtered in, casting a cold glow over the neatly arranged cots and folded linens.

After taking in the unfamiliar room, Ash ran a few tests to confirm he was awake, pinching himself and splashing icy water from a nearby tub onto his face. He stared at his reflection in the water—dark hair, youthful face, unfamiliar features. He couldn’t help but make a few faces at the reflection.

He’d cleared Royal Affections more than ten times, gotten all the endings, even set a world-record speedrun at one point. He knew everything about the game. But who was the boy in the reflection?

"Am I a background character? A throwaway NPC?" he muttered, watching his reflection warp in the ripples.

Was I even in the game at all?

He sighed and stood, resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be returning to Earth anytime soon. Crazy theories spun in his mind, each more impossible than the last. But before he could settle on any, something outside the window caught his attention.

Snowfall.

He was mesmerized as the once-falling snow accelerated upward and to the sides, creating an oval-shaped void where no snow touched the ground.

What the hell?

A sharp neigh broke his trance. He looked down to see attendants loading carriages, boxes and belongings in hand, preparing for departure. And there, commanding the scene, stood Genevieve.

With one arm extended, a faint bluish glow emanated from her hand as she casually wielded magic, shouting orders at her attendants. Her silver hair shimmered in the morning sun, cheeks flushed from the cold, her hair dancing lightly in the breeze.

Ash rubbed his temples, trying to ease the dull throb that persisted. His thoughts were scattered, half-rooted in confusion, half in disbelief.

Magic? Right...

But that didn’t make sense. In the game Royal Affections, magic was more of a background feature. An occasional plot device, sure, but hardly the focal point. As far as mechanics went, it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to master spells or wield arcane forces to navigate the game. A few plot points had magical undertones, but it wasn’t central to the experience.

After all, he thought, it’s an otome game.

The focus was always on character interactions, choices, and the romance routes, not the mechanics of a magic system. It made sense back then. The game was notorious for its difficulty—brutally so. The writing was terrible, and the developer’s laziness showed in the lack of care put into world-building and balancing. Yet despite all that, Ash and others couldn’t tear themselves away from it. The sheer originality and challenge it presented were enough to hook them.

Even for someone like him, who wasn’t interested in men or romance games, it was addictive. Speedrunning an otome game—it was laughable, but he had done it. Not for the story or the romance, but for the sheer joy of conquering something so poorly designed, where success often felt like an act of defiance.

As Ash watched Genevieve’s display from the window, a strange mixture of admiration and dread washed over him. Despite everything, there was no denying her elegance, the effortless control she exuded. But that wasn’t the point.

What really unnerved him was the memory of who Genevieve would become.

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Genevieve Ornfell, the youngest daughter of the Ornfell house, was notorious for becoming the game’s main villainess. Her descent from aloof aristocrat to vengeful sorceress was the crux of the game’s darker endings. Players had spent hours trying to outmaneuver her cruel strategies and survive her wrathful endgame sequences.

She was... a little terrifying, Ash thought, his mood souring. Even worse, he knew those two figures standing obediently behind her. They hadn’t been obvious at first, but now that his mind was clear, he recognized them.

Reese and Rowan.

A pair of siblings, cold and calculative, just like their mistress. Together, they were like Genevieve’s hands, serving as her most loyal enforcers. In the game, they weren’t mere NPCs. No, they had been some of the hardest opponents to defeat—puzzles with no clear solutions, constantly shifting allegiances and tactics that drove players insane.

Ash’s stomach sank.

Why the hell do they have to be here now?

Suddenly, the door to the room creaked open.

Ash jumped, his heart leaping into his throat. He spun around, eyes wide, meeting the curious gaze of a maid who stood in the doorway.

“You’re finally awake,” she said, raising a brow at him.

Ash stared at her, unable to say a word. There was something familiar about the maid, but nothing immediately clicked. He cursed inwardly.

I should know who she is, right?

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked, stepping into the room. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she scrutinized him, like she was searching for something. “You… well, you caused quite a stir yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Ash stammered. “What do you mean?”

The maid crossed her arms. “You don’t remember? You practically invaded Lady Genevieve’s personal space. Everyone was talking about it.” She tilted her head, clearly finding his confusion strange. “Are you... sure you’re alright? You’ve been acting strange since your accident.”

Ash’s pulse quickened. What should I do?

The realization struck him hard—this maid, she knew him. Or rather, she knew the boy whose body he now inhabited. That meant she likely expected a certain behavior from him.

The maid let out a sigh. “You know our position, don’t you?” She gave him a half-smile, but there was a sharp edge to it. “We can’t afford to offend the masters. You’d better learn some self-control before the young lady sends your head flying.”

Ash’s mind raced. What was the best course of action from here? Should he feign amnesia? No, he thought. If he wanted to find out the secrets of his transmigration, the best thing he could do now was gather as much information as possible.

And that meant his best bet was sticking close to Genevieve. Even if she was a future threat, her power and influence would keep him safe from lesser dangers. If he played his cards right, maybe he could even mitigate the worst of her villainous turn.

As the maid began to take the tub of water beside him, Ash’s mouth opened before his brain could catch up, and a name slipped out. “Catherine?”

The maid stared at him dumbfoundedly. “...What?” She blinked, the sharpness in her gaze softening for a moment.

Ash froze. He hadn’t meant to say that. But the name had popped into his mind so naturally. Was that a memory from the boy whose body I’m in?

He shook his head slightly and cleared his throat. “Uh, what... when is the Lady planning to depart?”

Catherine, or rather the maid named Catherine, frowned at him again, though this time less suspiciously. “Well, she planned to go as soon as the storm subsides, but...” she paused, her voice continuing in a whisper, “...did you really think she would take you along, after what you did?”

Ash was instantly struck by her words. Cold sweat formed at the nape of his neck.

Seeing his reaction, Catherine laughed out loud. “Don’t worry, you were lucky this time. Aligor used your accident to give you an excuse not to punish you.” She stepped back toward the door, giving him one last, unreadable look. “I would have backed you up too if I wasn’t busy... But, you should still offer her something as an apology.”

As she began to leave, Ash quickly asked her what he could use. “Wait! Like what?”

“I don’t know, maybe an Alaea’s shard?” She giggled, her back slowly becoming smaller. “If you don’t, she might really leave you behind!”

Watching her disappear, tension ebbed slowly from his shoulders. How the hell was he supposed to get a magic shard?

He wasn’t in a good position at all. He was a simple butler who didn’t have any political, social, physical, or monetary power. Not to mention that he was a commoner who had no mana at all.

But as he sighed, deflating like a balloon onto the floor, he realized one key thing.

Right, he thought. This was still the world of Royal Affections, even if it was a new reality.

But the rules... they were the same, weren’t they? He had cleared this game more than ten times before. If the core mechanics still applied, he didn’t need to panic. He just had to treat it like another playthrough—an insane, immersive, and high-stakes playthrough, sure, but one he knew how to win.

“I’ll clear it,” Ash whispered, clenching his fists. “Just like I always do.”