Maybe it’s just my brain rebelling at the absurdity of it all, but I couldn’t come up with anything but the truth at that moment. Is this what it feels like to break under torture, or am I just weak?

“I just happened to be in the way.”

I smiled weakly at the way that it all looked like I had planned to protect her, but I couldn’t see her face and Mary probably couldn’t see mine. This was about the point in the stories where the girl breaks down sobbing with relief, but the only liquid I was noticing was the blood starting to pool at my boots from the assassin’s body. I wasn’t quite sure if letting go of the dagger still deep in what was now quite clearly a boy of only sixteen would be more threatening, or if my continuing to leave my hand where it was on the dagger was worse.

“What do you know and how?”

Shit. Her voice was getting harder and the knife was starting to really dig in there. I knew this tone too. It was the way I reacted when the doctor was telling me that things might not be as bad as they seem. The problem is that what I knew was predicated on her being dead. A couple scraps will still be useful, but somehow it didn’t seem like she wanted to know where the crown prince goes whoring.

“I know that your father would turn the world upside down if you up and died. It seemed like it would be better for both of us if you survived.”

Why are lies sometimes easier to accept than the truth? No, scratch that. When has the truth ever gotten anyone anywhere?

“So you want me to owe you a favor? Does it look like I couldn’t have handled that scrawny bastard?”

That’s not what I—

“And you still haven’t told me how you knew I was going to be attacked!”
“Lucky guess?” I tried.

There was no reaction out of her, but I took the chance anyway. I left the dagger buried in the poor boy’s gut since I didn’t really want to kill her, then I pushed backwards—hard. Not only did I notice that she was lighter than I had at first expected, but this body is way too strong. There was a not so nice sounding crunch when we slammed into the wall and then a shriek of pain. At least she was alive.

When I got untangled from her now unmoving body I was surprised and maybe a little bit relieved that she seemed unconscious. So I was left with a couple new problems. First, I can’t just leave her here and if I dumped her in the infirmary there would be some uncomfortable questions. Second, getting her off of school grounds without being noticed is definitely impossible.

***

By some miracle, I was been able to sneak her into the dorm and find her room without being noticed. The sound I had heard before only turned out to be a broken wrist, so Mary wouldn’t be crippled at least. The least I could do was leave a note, so I found some writing supplies from her bags and stuffed it into her hand before leaving her to sleep it off. I had things to do.

***

The next day’s classes began in homeroom with Professor Edwina. There were some murmurs of how a boy was found stabbed dead in the girl’s bathroom, but it was nothing like the uproar that was described in the game. The kid was the third son of some family from the countryside who had no shot of inheriting the title, so he had come to the capital to seek his fortune. I did happen to know who set him to the task, but there was no proof and without a confession like in the game, there would be no proof.

In the game, it had turned out to be a roundabout scheme to set up Count Kendall’s daughter to be engaged to the crown prince by removing Mary from the running and framing the other main candidates for the crime. Needless to say, this was foiled singlehandedly by the heroine when she won the crown prince’s heart in the game. Speaking of, Elizabeth was talking with Georn Holfe, the son of the captain of the royal guard and one of the capture targets.

I recognized a couple of the topics as similar to the set dialogue, but Elizabeth clearly wasn’t limited to just a handful of lines like in the game. Right on time, the ever reviled villainess and daughter of Prime Minister Finer, Jezbeth Finer, stomped over.

“Georn! What are you doing flirting without regard to your station? How will you be expected to guard the royal family in the future when you are so easily lured from your duties?”

Jezbeth’s voice was shrill in a particularly unpleasant way, but she wasn’t really wrong in her critique. It was actually pathetic the number of times I had failed Georn’s route because he was chasing some pretty tail and got ambushed. Facing this legitimate criticism, Georn’s reaction was predictably prickly.

“I can handle myself. Don’t butt in where it doesn’t concern you.”

It looked as if Jezbeth was about to retort when Mary walked in with a splint on her broken wrist and sat down next to me in the same spot as the day before. As if she thought I was staring at her wrist, Mary launched into an explanation of how she had fell on it and that it would likely be a couple months before she could use it again, so she would be relying on me for help. Whatever they teach noble girls in this world that make them this good at acting, I’m truly impressed.

Either believing it or not caring one way or another, the rest of the class got back to their conversations. Jezbeth had apparently decided to give up on Geron, so peace returned before Professor Edwina finally came in.

“I’m sure that you have all heard the tragic news by now, but I think I ought to address it. First, the academy faculty wants to emphasize that the safety of our students is our utmost priority and we will be implementing additional measures for that reason. There will be regular patrols during school hours and we are advising that students not go around alone until we can uncover what happened.

Next, we want to provide support to any students who feel that they may in particular be targeted. If you do feel that it is necessary, come to the faculty office and we can work out a solution.”

***

Rather than in some seedy tavern, my first meeting for the family business was arranged to be at an upscale restaraunt. The man sat across from me was handling his table manners with a well-practiced grace as he talked. Around us, other well-dressed nobles and merchants discussed business deals of various sorts.

“Our greatest obstacle at present is the recent decree increasing the canal charge. It will likely increase scrutiny in the short term as the increase is put into practice which means that we’re running an increased risk with our shipments.” he explained.
“We’re already keeping good relations with the canal officials. Do you expect this to strain things?” I asked.
His face scrunched up for a moment before answering my question, “We are nearing the point where we will no longer turn a profit. Using more aggressive tactics is also off the table so long as attention is being paid to the canal.”

With all of these factors piling up, it was no wonder that Baron Masler had started moving so impatiently in the game. Revenue was drying up and if the current pay scheme of certain officials wasn’t kept up, it was possible that they might happen to ‘discover’ something amiss.

“And what action is my father considering? I can’t imagine he will just sit back and bleed money.”

Though the chances that someone would bleed were steadily rising.

“He has arranged for a hostile acquisition of the lower wharfs to expand our market reach. Are you considering overseeing the negotiations?”

“I think that it’s too impatient, but nevertheless I should be present for such an important negotiation.”

***

I noticed it somewhat when I was fending off the assassin, but it’s extremely enjoyable to move around in this body. Something about being an infirm less than a week ago and now being able to run a mile and barely feel tired probably. The thugs that I had been chasing were finally backed into a corner, and with nowhere to run they were pulling out their weapons and waving them about to look threatening. I wouldn’t be able to take more than two of them at best, but one should always negotiate from a position of power.

Now that they had stopped moving around so much, I signaled for my men to use the weapons we were so infamous for. Now, I should say that I always found porcupines cute. The internet made it so easy to find pictures of them and I had grown a bit addicted, so I had been worried I might not be able to get my fix in this world, but it seemed I had been worried for nothing. Not that I would call the bolts which were now dripping with blood and viscera cute, but you take what you can get.

I could feel my hand shaking as I forced myself to grip less tightly to my sword. There’s no shame in being excited when blood is spilled, but it seemed a bit odd that my newly acquired genitalia were so cold. Whatever parts of my nervous system that were supposed to handle that probably weren’t quite adapted to however I ended up in this body.

***

Back in the old hospital room. Whites. Sterile grays. The smell of disinfectant. Something blue is coming. Like the sky. See the sky soon? Surgeon. Probably. The shiny thing in its hand. Scalpel? It cuts though. No. Yes. It cuts. Relief. It goes in a circle. Three-o-clock. Brown like a chestnut. Six. Nurse? In blue. Nine. It comes back up. Something is gone. The tumor? Maybe.

***

The sweat dripped off of my face as I eased myself down into another push-up. Without electricity, it’s much more difficult to get any reading done before dawn, so I had landed on working out and testing the limits of what I could do. The one constant in one’s life is the body after all. Nothing is more important than your health. And when it comes to my condition, I’m not about to complain.

***

After a cup of tea, the classroom already felt like a second home away from home. That was good for my mood, but maybe less good for my alertness. I hadn’t noticed his approach until he was practically standing over me. The final capture target was unusually gaunt with short-cropped hair and glasses to complete the look. Not to say that he wasn’t eye-meltingly beautiful like all the other capture targets, but he stood out for not looking like an olympic athlete. He also didn’t look particularly happy that I still hadn’t greeted him, but it wouldn’t do to be seen lowering myself to a merchant made noble, so I held my silence.

“I heard that you were looking for a loan, Darren Masler? Having the means at my disposal, I can’t just stand by while my fellow man struggles, so I thought to make you an offer.”

Even more than his face, Lorn Bessel’s voice was something to be savored. Still, I was stopped from fully digesting it by the snickers aimed my way. It was apparently well-known how much my house was struggling and to see an old family in such a state brought them great joy.

“Not a loan per-se. I’m more interested in an investor, a partner in business even. As much as these children laugh, my name is as much a reality as your coin, so it would do you well to accept.”

Mary’s laugh was close enough and high pitched enough to pick out from the rest and even though her wrist obviously pained her, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Something about having such a worthy audience spurred me on.

“You might even say that I am partial to your family’s proven track record. At least there’s one bit of you I can trust.”

I glanced at some of the eyes I was gathering while I kept an eye on the avaracious glint to Lorn’s smile. It felt good to play a character again. There’s something about being so well-defined that you can be described in full by words. If I could be boiled down to the page, cooking off the fat and just leaving the substance, the ink, would I be more whole or less? Lorn himself looked happy to be at the center of attention. He wanted to be seen as the mole burrowing into the very foundation of noble society, something to be hated, but something to be seen nonetheless.

“If you know my leash, then I would be more than happy to be dragged along, my good sir,” Lorn said with a flourish. He was a bit sour around the edges, but nothing a bit of craven corruption wouldn’t fix. I can’t help but shudder at the very thought.

***

It was a couple hours after class that the events of the game started in earnest. The heroine’s main choices were on who she would run into during these passing hours and which political faction should could start to forge a bond with. There was of course the usual strife that came with the king’s failing health and multiple princes all with a shot at succeeding the throne, but that certainly wasn’t the only issue pressing on the minds of the court. It had been almost two decades since the last large-scale war and there were many who thought that it would be a simple affair to annex the neighboring Florine Republic. Others, primarily those nobles with holdings on the eastern side of the kingdom, were less enthusiastic about taking land just to hand it over to their western counterparts, so they favored a more isolationist approach.

Splits of opinion on the whether to implement lower level judiciary entities to lessen the power of the inquisition were also hinted at in the game, but it wasn’t possible to follow through with those hints, so my understanding was frankly limited. To avoid the worst possible route, I was sitting in the library. It wouldn’t end well for me if Elizabeth started making inroads with the war hawks, and one of their most prominent members was currently digging through old records of battles won and military strategy. Georn wasn’t exactly the bookish type, but when he wasn’t butting heads with noble etiquette he was hardworking and more than a little obsessed with honor.

The question was why the villainess had plopped herself into the seat across from mine and steepled her fingers in front of her. A little creepy, but okay. She was still trying to catch my eyes when I finally gave in.

“How can I be of service?”

The look of relief she gave when I finally looked at her was kind of cute, but she hid it fairly quickly.

“What are you up to?” asked Jezbeth.
“Whatever do you mean, my lady?” I gave her a passing grade fake smile.
“We both know that the old names are slowly losing their grip on power. Why are you trying to throw your weight around so blatantly? And you can drop the pretenses, nobody is listening anyway.” said Jezbeth.
“Nobody important anyway.” I threw a look over at our working hard friend who was still trying to figure out the most honorable way to stab someone. “I do need the money though. As much as my father refuses to admit it, taxes are barely covering administration and there’s nothing of value left in the old iron mines. Figured it would be better to be public about it than get found out and then be paraded as the rot of the nobility. They’ll just spin it into why we need a war to separate the wheat from the chaff.”
“Even if that’s the case, weren’t you overdoing it? Rumors are spreading that you’re off your rocker.” Jezbeth said with obvious exasperation.
“What’s the harm in having a little fun once in a while?” I said.

Inwardly though, I agreed that I might have lost control a little bit. The stress of diving headfirst into this familiar yet totally new world was taking a bit of a toll. This was also the most social interaction since I had dropped out of school. In the last couple weeks after my parents had given up any hope that I would survive, I hadn’t even talked except to request pain meds from the nurses. That is all to say that I didn’t have much reference for what guys normally act like. Thus crazy cuts across gender. Yeah.

***

I still hadn’t learned the name of the old sword-carrying butler, but I’m pretty sure that asking would just confirm the rumors that I’m going insane. He wasn’t in the game as far as I remember, and with his level of fitness, death by natural causes probably wasn’t in the cards. He was leading me to my father’s study to give a report on how my school life was shaping up and I was thinking up a way to say nothing.

When we arrived the butler opened the door for me and beckoned me forward. I stepped in and he closed the door behind me, bowing as he did. Baron Masler looked exactly as he did in the one appearance he made in the game. A red mantle draped over his chair and a glass of red wine in his hand, he looked the part of criminal syndicate mastermind. The image was broken when he swayed off balance and caught himself with his free hand from falling out of his chair.

“It’s all falling apart Darren. We’re on a sinking ship, and all I can do is rig up a lifeboat. Unless you care to burn it down and enjoy the warmth? I don’t care anymore,” the Baron slurred.

Either I had done something very different from the game, or I was supposed to tell him to go wild. I didn’t particularly care for either option that he was giving, so I just left the pitiable man to his alcohol.

The dark hallways were still foreign to my eyes. There was nothing in this world quite like the white electric lights that hummed on and on. Here, you could hear real silence. Thinking of the hospital made me think of the wrist I had broken. At the very least, she probably got it splinted by the light of a candle by the dorm’s old governess. I needed a candle too, come to think of it. The sun was still a ways aways.