Chapter 11 - Subject "Heroine" 1

 My life with Eliza following our formal engagement has been, for the most part, smooth sailing.

Our life behind closed doors is also flourishing to the point where people are whispering, "Which will come first: the wedding or the pregnancy?" 

The rumors that Eliza and I are "at it" practically twenty-four-seven have caused a few starchy officials to furrow their brows, but the general public views it favorably as a sign of a devoted future King and Queen.

She has the perfect pedigree. She is wise and well-versed in etiquette. She has the backbone to manage the Royal Court. She is head-over-heels for her Prince. And she’ll likely pop out heirs like a natural.

From every possible angle, she is a flawless match. If the future Queen is secure, the nation is secure. But despite the bright outlook, I couldn't shake a nameless dread.

If this world truly follows the logic of an Otome game... it’s about time for her to show up.

The Heroine.

In a game, the Heroine is the center of the universe. As the protagonist, she has ties to every high-spec "ikemen" in the kingdom, swapping them out or ultimately building a reverse harem. While some might call that "slutty," in the world of Otome games, that is "justice"—the exact same logic that allows a male protagonist in a Gal-game to surround himself with beautiful girls.

The real problem is that even if this world is modeled after a game, it is absolute reality for the people living in it.

Including me.

I’ve never slacked off in my efforts to live my own life to the fullest. I’m actually quite serious at heart. I fulfill my royal duties, and I plan to eventually inherit the crown, work myself to the bone for the people, and then pass the baton to a successor I’ve trained myself.

But the Heroine is a force that could shatter that stability in an instant.

Just think about it. If she acts exactly like the game character and seduces the "capture targets," the country will fall into chaos. Capture targets are almost always high-ranking, vital figures: the Prince, the son of the Prime Minister, the son of the Knight Commander. If these pillars of the state lose their minds over a single girl, the nation will tilt.

And I am, without a doubt, one of those targets. There’s no such thing as an Otome game without a Prince to hunt.

If I become her target, Eliza—my current fiancée—becomes an obstacle. The standard plot dictates she must be exited via a "Broken Engagement." To make that convincing, she has to be painted as a "Villainess." She’ll be framed for bullying the Heroine out of jealousy, her "crimes" will be exposed, and she’ll face exile, ruin, or even execution.

I refuse to let that happen. Personally, the thought of being ripped away from Eliza, with whom I spend every morning and afternoon in passionate bliss, is like having my flesh torn off. I won't trade her for another woman. (I might sample others, but I won't replace her.)

I feared that a "force of the world" might overwrite our feelings, forcing me to fall for the Heroine and turning the pure-hearted Eliza into a monster of jealousy. If the script takes over, we’re doomed to a Bad End, no matter how much the game calls it a "True End."

And so, the moment I dreaded finally arrived.

---

"I see... A young lady has entered the palace for 'etiquette training'?"

The Grand Chamberlain suddenly requested an audience to tell me this. I was caught off guard.

"It is a courtesy to allow young ladies of the realm to learn courtly manners, network, and find better marriage prospects," he explained. "A word of encouragement from the Prince would surely be a great inspiration."

He bowed low, but I saw the suspicious glint in his eyes. Good grief, I thought. We only just settled the engagement with the official fiancée, and they’re already trying to scout for concubines? It was clear the "training" was just a front for a "Concubine Battle Royale."

I went to the room where the ladies were gathered, intending to give a few bland words of encouragement and leave. But the moment I opened the door, I was hit by a "sneak attack" of overwhelming presence.

A girl was standing directly in front of the door, as if she had been waiting for the exact millisecond I’d enter.

"It is an honor to meet you, Prince!"

She greeted me with a radiant, blinding smile. Her outfit was simple—bordering on shabby—lacking any of the jewels or finery of the other girls, yet her presence was glowing. Her flaxen hair was short, her face was plain with a few freckles, and her figure was entirely unremarkable compared to Eliza’s voluptuous curves.

And yet, I couldn't look away. The sheer "weight" of her existence was crushing.

The other ladies were standing back, yet she had somehow claimed the perfect position. The "convenience" of it was terrifying.

"My name is Anna! I’m the daughter of a Baron! It’s a pleasure to meet you!!"

The moment she spoke, I knew.

This is the Heroine.

I didn't need analysis. My instincts screamed that she was special. This was the "Protagonist Power." Regardless of rank or ability, she occupied a massive weight in the fabric of this world. My prediction about a "forced script" was right.

The only saving grace was that I thought she was "special" in a "this person is dangerous" kind of way, not a "fall in love at first sight" way. If the world had forced me to love her instantly, I’d be finished. But if I still had my own heart, I could resist.

Step one: Distance. If I didn't get close, the "events" wouldn't trigger and the "bond" wouldn't deepen. I decided to keep her out of my sight and stay out of hers.

...Or so I hoped.

I soon realized how naive I was. If I walked down a hallway: "Oh, Prince! What a coincidence!" If I stayed in my office to work: "Prince, you must be tired! I baked cookies, let's take a break!" If I went on an incognito inspection of the city: "Is this... an undercover date?!" she’d say, somehow appearing at my side.

I couldn't shake her. No matter where I ran, she was already there. It was like a horror movie where the killer is always one step ahead. It was the "Protagonist Correction" in full effect. The world itself was trying to glue us together.

If I stayed passive, I’d be swept away by the current, the engagement would be broken, and I’d end up with her. I needed a countermeasure that would strike from an entirely unexpected angle. A "hail mary" to break the script.

I steeled my resolve. I called for the girl whose name I had stubbornly refused to utter until now.

"Bring Baroness Anna to me. I order her to serve as my 'bedchamber attendant' tonight."

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