I was told the horrific news in the middle of breakfast.

“W-what did you say?”

My hand loosened, causing the spoon in my hand to drop into the bowl of wheat and fruit pottage with a gentle thump.

“I said, the engagement between Crown Prince Albert and yourself has been confirmed.”

Duke Florentine smiled happily at me, as if he’d done something praise worthy.

He’d returned late last night and begun looking over manor paperwork. Because there was no Duchess, it fell on him to periodically look over the ledgers and do a walk through of the estate to make sure things were being run properly. This meant that even when he should be at home resting, he was working.

How this guy didn’t die from an stress ulcer from overwork was a mystery to me.

Seeing my stupefied expression, he completely misunderstood and continued, “I didn’t want to say anything until the agreement was finalized.”

My initial stunned silence was replaced by raw fury.

I’d been dropped into this stupid world, drugged for a year to break my spirit, and then forced to act as this negligent man’s daughter for 5 years. In exchange for my suffering, all I asked of the universe was that I be allowed to deviate from the game’s storyline.

All I needed was for this one thing to change and I’d live my life as Camilla Florentine, the good daughter of the Duke of Floren. I’d even resigned myself to marry whoever the Duke picked for me, as long as it wasn’t the Prince.

But this guy— this guy—!!!!!

“I REFUSE!” I roared, jumping out of my seat with my hands in fists. “GO BACK AND TELL THEM I WON’T MARRY HIM!”

Not to mention Duke Florentine, the nearby servants were shocked by my sudden outburst.

“Camilla, baby, calm down—”

Whatever adult dignity I had left in me was lost in my anger as I stomped my feet in a full blown tantrum.

“I won’t calm down! I won’t! How could you arrange a marriage without asking me! You could have at least asked!”

After living in this world for so many years, I had an idea how marriages worked. Though the adults arranged the marriages, the children were also allowed to say no. But the time frame for turning the other side down was early in the process, not after the engagement was finalized.

“Why would I have to ask?” Duke Florentine frowned, perplexed and upset at his daughter's sudden temper. “There isn’t a girl in the Kingdom who doesn’t want to be a Princess!”

“There is one!”

“Who?”

“Me!”

He sighed, rubbing his temples as if a headache was setting.

“Camilla, I don’t understand what is so upsetting about this arrangement. You will be loved and adored by everyone as a Princess—”

“Hah!”

“—and when you grow up, you’ll be Queen of the whole nation. There won’t be a single person who will disrespect you.”

“Ha… hahahaha!”

I started laughing uproariously at his declaration. If the Duke was annoyed before, he was alarmed at my fit of laughter.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because it’s funny!”

“What’s funny?”

“Everything Papa just said is a joke!”

“How could I possibly be joking?”

I stopped laughing abruptly, startling him further.

“Then you mean to lie to me.”

“I’m not—”

“Just because I’m young doesn’t make me stupid.” I cut him off. “Being a Princess doesn’t guarantee love, any more than being a Queen means everyone will respect me. I’ve read history books, Papa, I know it’s not true. And if I’ve read them, so have you. So don’t lie to me and act like this engagement was done for my sake.”

His expression stiffened, apparently not expecting that kind of reasoning from his 10 year old daughter.

Seeing his expression, my temper cooled and I felt stupid. Why had I expected anything from this man? He never listened before, why would he listen now?

“Papa, do you love me at all?”

“Of course I love you! How could you ask me that?”

“If you loved me, why didn’t you even ask what I wanted?”

“I thought— I thought you’d be happy being a Princess.”

“Why?”

“Other little girls—”

“Other daddies ask their daughters who they want to marry!” I tossed back and raised my chin, my expression stubborn and defiant. “I guess we’re both going to be disappointed. I won’t marry him.”

He frowned, his expression hardening.

“Camilla Florentine, you will marry the Crown Prince.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

I tossed my hair and sneered brazenly.

“Make me.”

Being drugged was preferable to death. I was willing to risk defiance for my long term well being.

“Are you really going to be this way?”

“Since you’re forcing me.”

“Camilla, I can’t take this engagement back, do you understand? It will ruin this family in the eyes of the King.”

“Then let it be ruined.”

I don’t know why that particular statement set him off, but it did. In a flash, he stood up from his chair, grabbed my arm and slapped me across the face. Because he had a grip on my arm, I simply stumbled instead of falling from the force.

“How dare you treat the Florentine family as if it were nothing!” He roared at me, pale face flushed and blue eyes blazing, “You owe your existence to this family! Everything you have and will have, comes from the Florentine name! Without it, you’d be nothing!”

My eyes watered with a mixture of pain, anger, and sorrow.

The parents I had before this would never have treated me this way. Even if I’d lived in a society where parents did matchmaking, they’d have at least asked my opinion first. And certainly, they’d never had slapped me across the face at 10 years old, much less 20.

At that moment, I hated Duke Florentine from the bottom of my heart. Any pretense of parent-child relationship was destroyed. He would never be a father to me again, not in private and not in public.

Through the pain I mumbled, “Since you don’t seem interested in being my father, I’ll treat you as my boss.”

He shook my arm, which was still in a vice grip and demanded nastily, “What was that?”

I looked up at him, my expression tranquil except for the tears stains that still remained.

“Since Duke Florentine wants me to marry the Crown Prince, I’ll marry the Crown Prince.”

A mixture of relief at my capitulation and uneasiness flickered across his face. It seemed to take him a moment to figure out why he felt something in my wording wasn’t right.

“Call me Papa.”

I glanced down at his hand, still gripping my arm like a vice, and then looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. He realized what my eyes were saying and let go.

My arm free, I rubbed it and stated calmly, “If you want to be called Papa, just cancel this engagement.”

“I already told you I can’t do that!”

I shrugged, “Then you’re Duke Florentine from now on.”

“You—!”

He raised his hand again and I sensibly scooted out of reach.

Far enough away he couldn’t easily reach me, I taunted angrily, “Beat the fiance of the Crown Prince if you dare! I’d like to see you explain why I can’t be seen in public to the King!”

He hesitated and finally lowered his hands.

I was really a fool to trust this guy.

In the end, all he cared about was honor and prestige. His daughter’s happiness was simply an afterthought, if it was considered at all.

Seeing he wasn’t actively going to abuse me anymore, I couldn’t be bothered with him. I turned around and left in a huff

He didn’t chase after me nor did he apologize for what he did.

From that moment on, a cold war between us started.

🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕

I had to re-evaluate my original theory about this world. I’d been functioning as if my choices would cause a butterfly effect: I would make small changes that would ripple out into big changes. Theoretically it should work that way, I thought.

Unfortunately, Duke Florentine proved that some things were going to happen despite my best efforts. My butterfly wings just weren’t strong enough to stop the inevitable.

In retrospect, whether it was this world or the one I came from, that was true. Hurricanes and tsunamis can’t be stopped just by being more virtuous. Perhaps certain events in this world were just going to happen, regardless of my actions.

This realization depressed me at first. I refused to leave my bed for two days because of it.

But then I started thinking…

Just because I had no influence, didn’t mean I was completely powerless. I knew the general direction the script was going, key characters involved, and that different scenarios could play out depending on how certain people behaved.

This meant there was hope for my future!

After all, the point of an Otome Game is CHOICE. There may be a script everyone follows, but within the script there is a lot of leeway for how a person gets to certain events and endings. With that in mind, I just needed to figure out how to make the script work for me instead of constantly fighting it.

What did I know about the game’s script?

Out of the 5 romance routes available, Camilla married the Prince in 4 and in 1 had her engagement annulled. Every time Camilla married the Prince, she died. When her engagement ended, she lived. The one time she lived was ironically in the Prince’s route.

What did this tell me? Marrying the Prince was a 100% guarantee I’d die. If I didn’t marry him, I had a 100% chance of living. Though it was clear the script favored Camilla marrying the Prince and dying, there was at least the possibility of getting the engagement annulled and surviving.

What were the circumstances that allowed for the annulment?

The Prince disliked Camilla’s attitude long before the player met him. He tolerated her because she never took things too far. But when the player got involved with him, Camilla’s fragile mental health broke down rapidly. She went from envious, to jealous, to murderous.

Between his initial dislike of Camilla and her sudden move to Crazy Town, he gave up on her completely. He got evidence of her crimes, of which she’s accumulated quite a few, and announced their break up in front of the entire school body—with parents watching too—during the graduation ball held in the last year of school. This forced the King to side with his son and break off the engagement.

Thinking about it, that dance was an important point in the game. Every route featured it. It was how the player knew whether they’d successfully romanced their target. If they did, they would be able to dance with them and if they didn’t they’d dance with some random no-name character.

If the Prince could use this party to break things off with Camilla, couldn’t the opposite be true? Didn’t that mean I could use it to break up with him?

Of course, doing it this way meant completely destroying my reputation and, by proxy, taking the Florentine family with me. But this was a small price to pay considering the Duke had proven he wasn’t worth the consideration.

If he’d cared about me even a little, maybe I’d care about him too. But since he decided to do whatever he wanted without caring about me, I didn’t feel obligated to care about him in return. He wasn’t my real father anyway.

If that was the case, the most sensible thing was to pick the route in the game I knew for a fact didn’t end with me dying: the Crown Prince’s Route.

Of course the main issue with going this way was convincing the player—who I had mentally dubbed the “Heroine” because she had no default name in the game—to pick the Crown Prince. In the game, besides dealing with the extremely annoying school credit system, the only real difficulty with the Prince’s route was Camilla constantly trying to kill the Heroine.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

But how do I do that? Do I play matchmaker? Wasn’t there a possibility she’ll choose someone else? There were two routes I was sure she wouldn’t take because they were insanely difficult, but what about the routes left? How do I block those? Was it possible to block them?

I worried about that for a while before I realized even if I could figure that out it was years into the future. I had a more immediate problem: I needed Albert to be on bad terms with Camilla.

This wasn’t simply because “it was like that in the game” but also because… well, think about it. Exactly why would the Prince leave his childhood fiance if he liked her? He would flat out reject the idea of an annulment if he had any sincere affection for Camilla. I absolutely can’t have him liking me enough to want to marry me!

This put me in an awkward spot though. How do I get hated? I have to act like the original Camilla, right? That was going to be difficult.

I don’t know how she acted at 10 to be disliked by the Prince. She was 5 when I took over and other than being an obnoxious brat, she wasn’t that horrible. Being bratty can’t have been all, there must have been something else. But nothing specific was mentioned!

Exactly how awful do I need to behave around the Crown Prince to get him to hate me?

There’s also the problem that I fundamentally don’t think like everyone else here. Camilla could act cruel and arrogant as a teenager because her worldview allowed for it. As for me, I can’t be mean and cruel to people just for being a “lower status” than I am. I don’t think of people in tiers to begin with, they’re all humans and deserving of some basic respect!

As for being arrogant and proud, I can only pull that off in areas I do well. It's easy to fake arrogance if I have some underlying confidence in a particular area, but if I don’t? If I mess up? If I’m obviously bad at something? I don’t think I can fake confidence through that….

Lastly, I’ve been well-behaved for 5 years now. That doesn’t mean the servants or my personal maid have forgotten my “hysterics” all those years ago. They still keep an eye on me. If I show erratic behavior, there’s a strong possibility of that “calming medication” being brought out. I can’t live like that again!

What can I do then?

I’ve gotta be mean enough to get the Prince’s dislike but not so mean that it causes the adults to think I broke again.

I quietly wondered, ‘Can I really do this?’

🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕

‘I don’t think I can do this!’

I was standing outside waiting for Albert Silvador, Crown Prince of Ailandale, with Duke Florentine. The entire Florentine manor had been cleaned to shining perfection over the last week. I’d been forced into who knows how many outfits by Miss Tollis until she found the “perfect one”. The result of “perfection” was feeling stuffy and over-frilled.

After being repeatedly reminded to smile and look friendly by Duke Florentine, I thought my smiling face was going to fall off from aching. I hadn’t realized it until then, but I’d gotten out of the habit of smiling and my face muscles were stiff as a result.

The Prince had come in a fancy white carriage with guards riding horseback in front and behind. I watched it approach anxiously. All I could think about was how to destroy his first impression of me without causing Duke Florentine to flip out.

I’d been so busy worrying about my own problems that I completely forgot something critical: the Crown Prince had been really handsome. As a child, exactly what would he look like? It turned out his handsomeness translated into a very charming little boy.

I took a critical hit when he took his first step out of his carriage. Glittering gold blond hair and large green eyes set in a youthful round face. His cheeks were flushed a little pink and there was an excited smile on his face.

Adorable!

100% Cuteness!

I knew it was going to be awkward to be mean to a child, but it felt like the difficulty had skyrocketed.

He hopped down from the carriage and gave a formal bow at the waist while smiling.

“Duke Florentine, it’s my honor to be here.”

I felt like I’d taken another critical hit. Not only did he have cuteness that could be weaponized to kill, even his voice was sweet and lilting. He could have been a child singer, I was sure!

“No, no, the honor is all mine.” Duke Florentine bowed and then turned to me, “This is my daughter, who you heard so much about….”

I was stunned into silence because of a cuteness overload and for a moment forgot what I should be doing.

Duke Florentine frowned slightly and cleared his throat. He put a hand on my back and forced me forward, his eyes saying: Why aren’t you greeting him?!!?!?

Getting touched by the Duke caused a shiver to run down my spine, splashing cold water all over the moment of pure adorableness.

Right, I needed to be mean!

With this in mind, I sighed heavily. It was an annoyed sigh that was loud enough that everyone could hear, including the Prince. I could feel Duke Florentine stiffen through the hand pressing against my back.

The little Prince, however, just looked surprised.

I wept inside as I prepared to trample all over his innocence.

Performing the perfect curtsy, I spoke in a machine-like, fake “polite” voice, “May God bless his Highness, Prince Silvador. I am Camilla Florentine, daughter of Duke Florentine, servant of the King. You favor the Florentine Manor with your presence and ensure Floren Duchy a 100 year good harvest with your visit.”

I stood there woodenly, a disinterested expression on my face while internally patting myself on the back.

Nailed it!

I did everything technically right, while managing to come off as rude as possible. It would be hard for the Duke to criticize me outright without looking foolish himself.

The little Prince brows furrowed, his surprise sinking into confusion. He seemed to realize my behavior wasn’t right. Duke Florentine looked like he might bust a blood vessel from suppressing his anger. The little Prince didn’t know, but he knew what I was trying to do.

Seeing his upset expression, I smiled in my heart. I still hadn’t forgiven him for slapping me and secretly took joy in his suffering.

Controlling himself, Duke Florentine squeezed out a strained smile and chuckled lightly, “Camilla, what are you doing? I know you’re nervous but didn’t I say there was no reason to be stiff with His Highness?”

Unfortunately this explanation had the desired effect on the little Prince. The boy immediately looked relieved, his earlier smile returning to him.

I couldn’t help narrowing my eyes in the Duke’s direction.

Touché, sir. Touché...

Taking a few steps forward, the little Prince bowed again, this time only slightly. He took my hand and kissed the back of it, causing me to blush in surprise.

With a heart wrenching earnestness, he told me “Don’t be nervous. You can call me Albert. Let’s get along well, alright?”

The world seemed to freeze for a moment as he looked up at me. His expression was pure and unguarded, like a puppy running up to someone excitedly, not knowing they were about to get kicked.

I couldn’t be close like he wanted, but it wasn’t appropriate to turn him down outright. With more force than necessary, I pulled my hand out of his and put it behind my back.

Face expressionless and voice as stiff as I could make it, I responded, “Prince Albert... you must be tired from your trip. We have tea and snacks inside.”

I couldn’t bear to see his expression at my obvious coldness. Turning around I made a hasty retreat towards the front door.

Behind me I could hear Duke Florentine salvaging the situation, “She’s just shy, your Highness. Give her time...”

🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕🎕

From that point on the Duke continued to set up meetings, or what I liked to think of as “playdates”, with the little Prince. Every week the little Prince would come over to the Florentine manor to talk with me. Usually we’d either eat some snacks or walk around the enormous manor gardens, or both.

I don’t know why the Duke didn’t take me to the King’s castle. Maybe he didn’t trust me to behave after that fight we got into.

The overly polite, apathetic attitude I’d been using in front of the little Prince seemed to be working. His expression had gotten more strained and, being young, he hadn’t mastered hiding his feelings. It was obvious he was confused by what was happening between us.

In the game his character had been a bit flashy and friendly, but in a shallow way. Though he got along with everyone, it seemed like he wasn’t friends with anyone. Later, after the Heroine has “caught” him, the player finds out that the Prince didn’t trust people. When he was younger, he’d gotten used by people he’d counted as friends, and ever since then he’d been extremely cautious of being truly open and honest with those around him.

Naturally the Heroine was the person to “open his heart with love”.

I still think that line of thinking is stupid.

So he finds one person he can trust, how will that help him with everyone else? Frankly, it’d be better if he learned to discern people’s character independently of the Heroine. Especially since he’s the Crown Prince. Being able to figure out who to trust and by how much to trust them, is critical to running a country well.

Not that whether he did a good or bad job mattered to me. Lately I’d been thinking what I should do if I could successfully annul this stupid engagement. Usually that would mean I’d end up back in the Florentine manor, dealing with the Duke. No thank you!

Instead of that, why not leave the country? Once I’m out, the game and I won’t have anything to do with each other. After all, it was hyper focused on the people here and ignored everything else. If I leave Ailandale, I should get ignored too. Splendid!

It was easy to decide where I should go: Republic of Rynar.

They’ll take anyone in as long as they’re willing to work hard. Most importantly nobles have no influence in that country. I could flee to that country and the Duke couldn’t do anything about it.

Hehehehe.

Ahem!

I got distracted thinking about freedom!

Back to the little Prince….

Unlike his game counterpart, he hadn’t developed a deep distrust of people. If anything, I’d say he was too open about his every feeling and expectation. Any adult with malicious intentions could “read” what he was feeling and use it to manipulate him.

It worried me a little.

But only a little.

Between his vulnerability and my future with all my limbs attached, I would always choose myself.

One day he came over and we walked around the garden for an unusually long time. For once, he hadn’t said a word and I, who never initiated, didn’t say anything either. I was starting to sweat under the sun and felt uncomfortable at the silence.

Though it had been my policy never to speak first, lest it seem like I was interested in him, I finally broke down and asked, “Pardon me, Prince Albert, but how much longer are we to go on walking?”

He stopped walking, his expression dazed. He blinked several times, as if recollecting himself, glanced at me and then hastily looked at the ground. He fiddled with his fingers nervously.

It seemed like he wanted to say something but I suppressed my curiosity and didn’t ask.

“Did I do something to you?”

His words came out as a low mutter, I couldn’t quite catch what he said.

I screwed my eyebrows together, “What?”

This time he looked up at me, his wide green eyes anxious but sharp.

“Well, I was wondering if you were mad at me.”

Finally!

It might sound heartless, but I had wondered how long it would take him to catch on. Being mean like this didn’t come naturally to me. If he remained unaffected, I’d have to get meaner. I wasn’t confident I could get any meaner than I already was.

“Why would I be mad at you?” I asked indifferently, “I barely know you.”

His lips pursed at my calloused response and looked back at the ground.

“Isn’t that because you won’t talk to me?”

I tilted my head, as if thinking.

“Oh yes, I suppose so.”

“Then,” His hands clamped into tiny fists and announced boldly, “if you were to bother having a real conversation with me, you are sure to like me.”

My indifferent mask almost dropped. I hadn’t expected him to do some self promotion there. His obvious apprehension paired with his firm declaration of being likable was a funny juxtaposition. I wanted to laugh and say ‘You’re adorable!’ but of course I wasn’t able to.

In an effort to conceal what I was feeling, my eyebrows lowered and my posture became more aggressive than I had intended.

“And why should I do that?”

“...w..why?”

“Yes, why.”

He glanced up at me and stiffened at what he saw. His feet shuffled a bit before he squeaked out:

“B..because… we’re en..engaged?”

I tried to smile brilliantly but, perhaps because I was suppressing my real feelings, it came off as an evil grin.

“Let me ask you, if someone is engaged but is refusing to get along with their fiance, what do you think that means?”

There was a long pause before he shook his head, indicating he didn’t know how to answer.

“Lets reframe the question,” This was my opportunity to thoroughly break his little Prince heart and I was taking it! “Let’s say there are two boys who don’t know each other. Without anyone asking them, their parents decided they ought to be friends. So they keep meeting up and putting the boys together to have them play. Now one of the boys looks bored during these meetings, talks very little, and is eager to go home. The other boy does all the talking and suggests all the games, basically doing all the work. Every meeting is the same. Why do you think the first boy is behaving the way he does?”

The little Prince hesitated for a moment before answering, “Isn’t... that because he never wanted to be friends to begin with and his parents forced him into it?”

I nodded.

“And what do you think about the other boy in this story?”

He frowned, “Isn’t he dumb to keep trying to be friends with a boy who doesn’t want to be friends with— ah.”

He suddenly made the connection and finally looked up at me, his golden colored eyes widened with shock, “You mean you never wanted to be my fiance and were forced into it?!”

“Mmmm hm.”

“But why?” His entire body showed his discomfort over this new revelation. “I’m the Crown Prince, I’ll be King in the future! Being my fiance means you’ll be Queen!”

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at him. This was the exact same reasoning as Duke Florentine, coming from an 11 year olds mouth!

“In your mind, does every girl want to be queen?”

He opened his mouth, like he was going to argue with me, and I raised my eyebrows. Seeing this he paused and seemed to rethink what he was going to say.

“...I… don’t know.”

Good. It seemed the 11 year old was a bit smarter than the Duke and wouldn’t continue on believing something when the evidence against it was right in front of him.

“Well, now you know.”

I almost left it there, but I hesitated.

The way the Duke thought, which was apparently the common way of thinking based on what the little Prince just said, irritated me to no end. I couldn’t change the way the Duke thought, but maybe I could change the way the little Prince thought? If I successfully persuaded him AND made him dislike me, wouldn’t that be killing two birds with one stone?

This entire thought process zipped through my mind in a split second. Upon coming to a positive conclusion, I pounced.

Continuing my act, I sniffed disdainfully at him, treating him like an idiot, and continued snidely, “Besides, if all you’ve got to offer a girl is the position of queen, isn’t that really pitiful? That means there’s nothing interesting about you outside of your status.”

This line of thinking was naturally foreign to him. He couldn’t help looking puzzled.

“What do you mean? It’s not like the Crown Prince and I are any different, we’re the same person. I, Albert, am interesting so naturally I, the Crown Prince, am interesting.”

“That’s not how people view you. They don’t think of you as Albert, the 11 year old boy, they think of you as the Crown Prince, future ruler of the world and current favorite of the King. You, Albert, are only important as long as you’re competent. Beyond that, your likes and dislikes, people only care about those things to win you over so they can gain power. ” I paused, lip curled in a sneer, “Pardon me, I’m being roundabout… what I mean to say is, they aren’t interested in you as a person, just your title. No one really likes you, Prince Albert. They only like you, the Crown Prince.”

His face paled momentarily and then flushed, his green eyes flashing with anger.

“That’s— that’s not true!” He refuted loudly, “My Father, Mother, Swordmaster, and Nanny like me for me! Don’t you dare say otherwise!”

My face twitched in an effort not to laugh at this childish rebuttable. One would hope his parents liked him! As for the other two, who knew? But I wasn’t going to quibble over the details.

Anyway, my goal of being unlikable seemed to be working. I’d managed to make him angry!

“...if they’re the only four out of all the people you know, isn’t that just sad?” I sighed dramatically, shaking my head as if to say ‘it’s a pity’ and continued pressing my point. “Right now, all you have is your status and title, how would you know when someone was being genuine? In the future, will you be able to make any real friends? Won’t everyone use you without you knowing it? Imagine your whole life never making a real friend and only being surrounded by people who want your power. I’d be depressed.”

His mouth opened and closed several times, the frustration on his face making it obvious he wanted to argue. But instead of arguing, he just stood there speechless.

I was briefly puzzled as to why he didn’t say anything. Then I thought...

Could it be that he was already vaguely aware of what I was talking about?

Perhaps he hadn’t been hurt to the point of closing himself off, but only because he was ignoring the warning signs? I’d assumed the events that lead to him closing his heart off to others hadn’t happened yet, but maybe it wasn’t one thing that had caused it. Maybe many small things all accumulated over time, causing him to lose faith in people.

His hands were still gripped into fists, it was obvious he was still upset.

I wanted to comfort him but it was my fault his feelings had been hurt. And that had been my goal from the beginning. If I backed out now, what had all this work been for? Thinking so, I forced a cheery smile on my face. At the same time, he stood straight. His angry expression instantly snuffed out at seeing my calloused response to him.

His eyes watered slightly and his lips trembled.

My smile froze, guilt crashing in my heart all at once.

He turned around and said in a wobbly voice, “I… I think it’s about time I go home now.”

Then he picked up his legs and began to make a hasty retreat. I didn’t expect him to leave without any warning and was momentarily stunned.

After recollecting myself, I called after him, “Do you need me to see you out?”

The manor gardens were ridiculously large and it was easy to get lost.

I didn’t really think he’d respond, but he stopped, turned around and bowed stiffly from a distance.

“No thank you!”

Immediately after turning me down, he ran away as if he was fleeing.

That he’d responded politely despite being upset amused me, but only temporarily.

I watched him disappear into the distance and sighed heavily.

‘This should be enough, right?’ I thought, feeling relieved that I’d succeeded but awful for having hurt an innocent kid.