* * *
Even if it was his own choice, Ranshel couldn’t help but feel a little wronged.
The loyal servant who risked his life was being overshadowed by the merciful noble.
Scowling, Ranshel watched the spectacle unfold.
And then Zavad took it even further.
With that same gentle expression he’d shown Hans, he turned toward Ranshel and said, as if deeply regretful:
“To think you drank poison for me… I must take responsibility. For the time being, I’ll carry you on my back.”
He’s insane. Ranshel nearly swore out loud.
“N-No, how could you possibly carry your own servant…!”
“How could someone with such a noble heart…!”
Episode 42
“Here, lean on me comfortably.”
“….”
Zavad turned his back toward him.
Ranshel couldn’t bring himself to place his hands on him and just stood there.
After a brief pause, Zavad tilted his head and whispered.
“What are you doing? Work with me here.”
“I don’t want to. This is embarrassing…”
“Emba—what? Hey, do you think chances to ride on my back come around every day?”
“I don’t care how rare it is. I’m not doing it. This is unnecessary.”
“We have to. Do you think I’m doing this for fun?”
Sure, there were probably other motives.
But Ranshel really didn’t feel like going along with anything Zavad said.
In a loud voice that the others could hear, he shouted:
“How could I dare to ride on the Young Master’s back! I would never do something so shameless!”
“…No, it’s fine. I’m giving you permission…”
“No! How could I possibly let someone shorter and weaker than me carry me!”
Zavad furrowed his brow in frustration and glared at him, but Ranshel stood his ground unbothered.
That’s when the doors to the banquet hall suddenly opened, and someone entered the dining room.
Click, click.
The sound that echoed was louder than footsteps—it was something being wheeled in.
Ranshel turned toward the sound, and his expression slowly stiffened.
Wheels attached to a chair rolled slowly over the red carpet.
A maid pushing the wheelchair stepped forward, steadily closing the distance.
Shimmering platinum-blonde hair.
Eyes as blue and kind as the sea.
The sight pierced directly into his vision.
It was someone Ranshel knew well—the heroine of the game.
There was no way he could be mistaken.
But that clarity only brought confusion.
‘Why?’
Why was Frey here?
Even Zavad, who had been glaring at Ranshel, turned his head at last.
His crimson eyes, redder than any jewel, slowly turned toward Frey.
Ranshel unconsciously pulled back the hand he’d almost reached out with.
A system window flashed urgently in front of him, like a warning.
[You have come into contact with a main character.]
[Side Story ‘The Flower of the Ice Castle’ is now in progress.]
The appearance of a main character and the start of an event.
The storyline he had thought he knew so well suddenly resurfaced vividly in his mind. Ranshel’s eyelashes trembled.
The side story “The Flower of the Ice Castle”—an event that triggered when the heroine met a romanceable character.
More specifically, it marked the branching point from the common route into each character’s individual route.
Zavad’s route had now been confirmed, which meant that the two characters would continue to meet from this point on.
Originally, the protagonist was supposed to encounter the other characters one by one as the common route extended further.
But unlike the original story, these two had met earlier than expected, which seemed to completely eliminate the possibility of diverting into another character’s route.
From now on, the two would gradually build up their feelings and head toward the game’s goal—an intimate romance, an engagement sealed with rings, and finally, a formal marriage to solidify their relationship.
Something a mere villainous supporting character couldn’t possibly stop.
Now that things had come this far, there was no point in trying to interfere.
This was a game, after all.
One of the fixed routes, already determined—something that had to happen.
That’s all it was supposed to be, and yet…
“…What’s going on?”
Ranshel flinched in surprise as Zavad suddenly touched his forehead.
Zavad was frowning slightly, examining his complexion.
“Why are you sweating like this… Hey, are you sure that wasn’t a poison safe to ingest?”
“……”
“If you’re not feeling well, say so now. It’ll take some time to find a physician at this hour.”
…The event is progressing, so why is he looking at me? Ranshel was so dazed he couldn’t speak. Zavad turned his gaze toward Viscount Venders.
“Forgive me, but I believe my attendant is not feeling well. Could we open the gates and—”
“No, my lord!”
That can’t happen! Snapping back to his senses, Ranshel grabbed Zavad’s shoulder.
Zavad paused.
“I’m just a little tired. I’ll be fine!”
If they called a physician now, they’d quickly discover he wasn’t actually paralyzed.
Unlike healers, physicians could use higher-level skills to accurately diagnose Ranshel’s condition.
After coming this far, he couldn’t let everything fall apart.
While Ranshel clung to Zavad, Frey approached them, drawing very close.
The guards, who had been kneeling before Zavad, promptly moved aside when they saw the girl approaching in a wheelchair.
Even at a glance, her accessories and dress clearly revealed her noble status.
Ranshel let go of Zavad just in time. He swallowed a shaky breath.
The event continued smoothly, without interruption.
Frey opened her mouth.
“I am Frey, eldest daughter of Count Vershel. I’ve heard of your circumstances through my attendant.”
“…I apologize for the intrusion during your rest. I’m Zavad, second son of the Duke of Pommel.”
The two lightly placed their hands on their chests and exchanged greetings.
Frey dipped her head slightly, and Zavad met her gaze.
It was a perfectly matched encounter between a noble lady and gentleman—save for the subtle reminder of their difference in status.
And Ranshel… was still right next to Zavad.
That damnedly aristocratic young master hadn’t moved an inch from his spot.
As a result, Ranshel now found himself closer to Zavad than Frey was, making things a little awkward.
He wasn’t even seated—just leaning near the table like this…
‘No, this is all wrong.’
This was far too different from the original first meeting.
They were supposed to meet at Zavad’s coming-of-age banquet—on a terrace bathed in beautiful moonlight.
The location had changed since Zavad had left his estate, but surely even this mansion had a terrace.
A lovely couple should have exchanged gazes beneath the moon, hearts fluttering.
But this… this wasn’t it.
While Ranshel replayed the game’s scene in his mind, the wheelchair moved.
Frey came even closer.
“Forgive the imposition, but I thought perhaps we might be able to help.”
As she drew near…
Frey reached across the table and placed her hand on Ranshel’s leg.
Ranshel nearly screamed.
Zavad’s face also stiffened, surprised.
“I heard your attendant cannot currently use his legs. How pitiful… It just so happens I have a spare wheelchair I could lend you.”
Frey gently patted Ranshel’s leg as she spoke.
Ranshel, utterly flustered, felt his face burning.
He didn’t need a mirror to know the color it had turned.
“We appreciate the gesture, but we’re only staying in this mansion for the night, so…”
“So are we. Aren’t you on your way to take the Delta Academy entrance exam?”
“…That’s true, but…”
“Then it’s perfect, since we’re headed the same way. I’ve heard it’s only a temporary paralysis. Just return it once your attendant recovers.”
“…You’re truly kind…”
Zavad’s voice was calm and gentle.
* * *
