Chapter Text
When Natsuki Subaru woke up, the room was empty. That was strange. He definitely could recall a presence through the haze of semi-consciousness, and not of just one person, like if someone sat at his bed, but of many, many people—felt more like a packed train.
He sat and looked around. The room was spacious, lit with bright sun from a huge window. The interior reminded him of European historical films: wallpaper patterns were full of huge flowers, furniture was carved, there were candlesticks on the walls, and a crystal chandelier on the ceiling—his head got filled with various terms he didn't really understand much about, but the bottom line was that everything looked pretentious and expensive.
Hopefully it wasn't some hotel. The price tag would probably be monstrous.
No, wait a minute. He was in another world. In another world, in a medieval setting, such hotels are not supposed to exist. At best, it would be plausible to have a tavern with melted candles, wine barrels, and some Suspicious Person sitting in a dim corner who will give him a new quest, but this? This must be at least some count's quarters!
Hey, what if this was the house of that silver-haired beauty, Emilia? She looked very noble, definitely with impressive lineage, and she was a knight, too, and knights had all sorts of titles. Of course, she was a countess, or even more! It's clear, she took him with her out of pity after...
He was in another world.
His fingers found a flannel cloth on his stomach. It seemed that he was changed into a nightgown—who was doing this, Emilia herself?! No, such an influential lady must have servants... or the maids?! They must also be total beauties, although no match for the hostess, of course, and of a modest but strict disposition...
...a scar line stretched across the belly button. Neat and thin, with no ragged edges, as if it was drawn with a marker, but it didn't wear off, and it was pink, like it had recently healed, and, and, and..!
He felt sick. He clapped his hand over his mouth and breathed deeply in vain: the smell of blood hit his nostrils. He could feel it, sticky and hot, trickling down his thighs, and he felt so cold, so cold...
Pull yourself together, Subaru!! What if she comes in here and sees you like this?! She knocks on the door and, without waiting for an answer, opens it, and the first thing she sees is your ugly face, three seconds from vomiting on the blanket! Right now, for example!!!
No one was knocking on the door, but the thought helped. Subaru counted to ten, then to ten again, diligently thinking about non-lethal things like cute puppies and anime girls, and the panic seemed to subside. He allowed himself to relax.
He probably should’ve investigated his surroundings.
He started by getting up and going to the window. Thick velvet curtains lined the sides—they looked very solid, giving the impression of seasoned curtains that had hung in this bedroom for many years, outliving one or two owners. He was surprised to detect a faint, soapy scent, as if they had been recently washed, instead of the scent of old, lived-in furniture. The main part of the window was obscured by a white tulle curtain. The contours of the greenery outside, however, could be glimpsed through it, and Subaru, after a brief hesitation, lifted the thin curtain and surveyed the surroundings.
Firstly, he was on the second floor; secondly, more importantly, he seemed to be out of town. There was a garden under the window, too spacious for the city limits, though not very impressive by the count's standards. Subaru could see a fence, which he estimated was about thirty steps away. Not much for a count, is it? In addition, the fence looked kinda rusty.
And the garden itself, under closer inspection, did not flourish. There were apple trees, hiding small and sour-looking apples in their leaves here and there, a path of cracked stone ran to the gate, and there were no flower beds anywhere at all. The grass, however, had been mown, and there was no debris anywhere… which was strange, considering one of the apple trees, growing at the very edge of the view of this window, was broken.
Subaru's skin crawled at its sight. A thick, sprawling tree that had clearly been growing for many years—and where its trunk had split into two thick branches, only one remained, the other broken off almost immediately after the base. It happened quite recently, too; the wood hadn't even darkened yet. But nothing was lying around.
There probably was a thunderstorm, hurricane, or something like that. The broken branches have been removed, but what to do with the tree had not yet been decided. Maybe the countess was sentimentally attached to it: say, this apple tree was planted by her deceased grandmother or something like that.
Still, it was unpleasant to look at. Subaru moved away from the window.
Despite the lavish furnishings, the room turned out to be quite empty. There was absolutely nothing in the double-door wardrobe, in the drawers of the small desk, in the bedside tables, or under the bed itself, not even dust, not to mention some useful loot. It wasn't just the curtains that smelled of soap: the whole room must have been recently scrubbed. Of course, it made sense to clean the room before putting a guest there, but it was still a bit unnerving.
And by the way, he couldn't find his clothes anywhere. It unnerved him more than a bit, although it gave him hope that he hadn't been out for so long that his clothes hadn’t had time to dry after... basically, yes, the healing magic here must’ve been decent.
So, the room didn't give him any particularly useful information. Obviously, it was time to step outside its boundaries and find the lovely countess—and properly thank her for her hospitality.
Subaru resolutely opened the door, ready to apply all his charm gained over the years of experience in dating sims.
And froze.
The girl stood motionless in front of him, not even flinching away from the door that almost flew into her face. A blonde in a tight white dress covering skin, she… was actually pretty, especially if she’d smile.
But she just looked at Subaru and said, “Good morning, dear guest,” in a flat, cold voice.
Yeah, that must be the maid. She could’ve been nicer.
“Oh, hello.” Subaru nodded in hurry, then, after thinking a bit, raised his hand and waved awkwardly. The girl's face didn't soften at all.
“Did you have a good night's sleep, dear guest?” The question came out of her mouth in such a monotone that it could have been mistaken for a statement. Well, Subaru did mistake it. For a few seconds or so.
“Uh, yes, thank you. The pillows were very soft and all that… I'm Natsuki Subaru, by the way.”
Something seemed to flash in the girl's gaze. She hesitated.
“Call me No. 184. Please contact me if you need anything during your stay at the manor.”
“Call you how?” It didn’t look like she was joking. Weird name, more fitting for a cyberpunk setting rather than classic fantasy. Although, who knows? Maybe it was just like in games, first location is all fantasy-like with carts and wells, and then in the fourth one people are sending robots to space, and this girl is exactly from such a place. “Well, alright. Listen, do you know where I can find…”
“Your friend is in the bedroom down the hall to the left.”
“My who?” Subaru blinked in confusion. No, logically speaking, he was in that warehouse with several people who could probably be called his comrades. Was she referring to that gray-haired guy, Otto or whatever his name was? Damn, he still had to think about which trope this guy fitted into.
His puzzlement, however, did not confuse the girl.
“If you wish to meet with the owners of the manor, then you will have to wait a bit. They are busy with urgent matters, but they will definitely join you for dinner.”
Well, the new quest was obvious.
“Okay, then I'll, uh…” No. 184 showed no intention of moving, so Subaru awkwardly shuffled past her sideways. Her gaze followed him, and he smiled wryly and pointed to the left, “Uh, I will go check on my friend or something?”
The door down the hall to the left swung open, slamming the handle into the wall.
“Father, if you think you can just…!”
The gray-haired guy yelling at the top of his lungs wasn't Otto.
That bandit! They got rid of his rags, but not the collar and chain, and it made him look like a fugitive from a horror-movie madhouse with labs in basements, doctors specialized in torture, and hot nurses. The face certainly matched this image. An ugly, vile face, with scummy thoughts written all over it—the minor villain was immediately obvious. He probably lied to Emilia so that she would let him into the house, whining that he was stealing only because he had a difficult childhood, but once he was fed and comforted, he would immediately repent and earn his keep only with honest work for the rest of his days! Sure he would!
Now everything about the roles in the plot was clear. Subaru took a deep breath.
“Hey you!” he shouted. His hands clenched into fists of their own accord. “What are you doing here? Decided to rob even more innocent people, huh?”
The bandit almost jumped on the spot. He spun around with a jerk—and stared at Subaru in utter confusion.
“Eh? What are you doing here, huh?!”
"Don't act stupid! Admit it, you've already pocketed someone's ring or necklace here, haven't you?” Subaru turned to No. 184. “Okay, uh, No. 184, we need to check if everything is in place. Out of the goodness of your heart, you let a villain into the house, but don't worry: I'll deal with him in no time!”
“Dear guest…”
“What? You’ll deal with me? Weakling, any ten-year-old brat from the slums would have crushed you, and you're trying to threaten me? If it weren't for that girl, me and the guys would…”
“Shut your fucking mouth and don't you dare talk about her like that!” Subaru’s bare heels slammed against the floor. He rushed straight toward the bandit who took a fighting stance—still looking perplexed, yet confident.
“Dear guest!”
Rustling sounds were heard all around, and white shadows appeared at the edge of Subaru's vision. At least, his subconscious registered it, while his conscious mind chose to ignore it for now: he had already raised his fist and was a second away from smashing it into the bandit’s jaw...
“I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'd prefer if we settled this conflict peacefully,” a soft voice said above Subaru’s head.
His fist was caught in a large warm palm, like a tennis ball.
“The… the…” The bandit got stuck on the word. “You...! you...!”
Reinhard van Astrea smiled.
“Good morning, Rachins, Subaru. I'm glad to see you both in good health,” he sighed, as if he really was upset, “even if not with the most friendly intentions.”
“Oh, Reinhard,” Subaru greeted him with a short nod. “You remember that asshole tried to rob Emilia, right? Get him out of here.”
He glanced at the speechless bandit, who, it turns out, had a name. How did Reinhard know his name? Subaru had a bad suspicion...
Reinhard slowly nodded.
“Of course, I remember about his... not the most noble act. But I would like to hope that in the future he will refrain from doing this, given that it will adversely affect his reputation as a candidate for the royal throne of Lugunica.”
Ah.
Subaru staggered. He remembered. Yes, there was blood, yes, it was scary and painful and scary, but before that there was a small weight in his palm, completely indifferent to Subaru's very existence.
“What?! Are you shitting me?! Do you think I have time for jokes, man?!” the candidate for the royal throne of Lugunica yelled.
Reinhard looked at him—not at Subaru, because why would he—with a long and strange gaze.
“I understand that this is not the most appropriate way to get such news, but I thought you should know at least that much before lunch. We'll talk in more detail after that, but for now,” his expression twisted for a second, “I really want to ask you not to cause any... accidents, especially noisy ones. It would be rude of you to overstay your welcome. You understand?”
Reinhard’s eyes darted from the bandit to Subaru: obviously, that he was telling them both. A candidate for the throne, a pathetic scumbag who did not have a drop of shame to not rob a kind-hearted loser like Otto and an innocent girl like Emilia—and him, Subaru, who volunteered to help and fought on his side.
The bandit stood with his mouth hanging open, making a disgusting gurgling sound from his throat. He stared at Reinhard, then slowly turned to Subaru, as if making sure he’d heard the same thing as him. Subaru met him with a scowl.
“Rachins, then, yes?”
“So?” Rachins miraculously rediscovered his voice and even managed to snap back.
“Reinhard, I'm sorry,” muttered Subaru, and punched Rachins in the jaw.
***
They were led into the small, brightly lit dining room by four maids, two on each side, and it really looked like a prison convoy. No. 184 wasn't among the maids this time, but they were somehow similar to her. Maybe it was the expressions.
None of them ever smiled. Their faces were blank.
By the time they arrived, the table had already been set. The tablecloth was white, the utensils silver, everything was very aristocratic, but the dishes themselves...
Well, at least Subaru recognized the ingredients in them, so he probably wasn't in danger of exotic food poisoning. But it all looked, to put it mildly, unappetizing: watery porridges and soups, disintegrating vegetables, boiled meat without seasonings or sauces, dill and parsley here and there. Honestly, for a fantasy world, they could have come up with something cooler.
Directed by the maids, Subaru and Rachins sat at the table, almost on opposite sides from each other, except that Rachins was next to the empty seat at the head, and Subaru was one seat away. Subaru glared at Rachins. That guy had the audacity to run a finger along his neck in response.
A thin hand grabbed Subaru’s shoulder with unexpected strength. One of the maids behind Rachins did the same to him.
The door to the dining room opened, and Reinhard entered. He was no longer dressed in black trousers and a shirt like all the previous times Subaru met him, instead wearing something that must’ve been nothing short of a formal uniform.
“Please welcome His Future Royal Majesty,” his voice was loud and completely serious, “Regulus Corneas.”
And through the door, too ordinary to justify such a grand arrival, a man walked in.
He was dressed entirely in white, and his hair was white too—well, that was probably normal for a fantasy character. His attire was dotted with gold accents here and there, and an earring with a large blue stone hung from his left ear, making the whole thing look, in Subaru's opinion, kinda cheap. There was a clear contrast in his and Reinhard's clothes: both were in white, but one of them really looked like a dignified noble, while the other seemed more like someone who wore his supposed nobility status like a dress to show off. I'm a big shot, and you'll all take me into consideration, that was the message these clothes carried.
And his face was so gross, too. It seemed he was older than Subaru, but by how much was way harder to tell—still, when he entered the dining room, his expression was filled with childish triumph. Self-satisfaction oozed out of every pore on his skin, and he was so clearly happy that Subaru and Rachins were there, looking at him in all his pomp.
He wore platform boots. Subaru saw them with his own eyes and still couldn't believe it. No, really, this man was about the same height as Subaru and actually wore platform boots.
He couldn't be taken seriously.
The man in the platform boots stopped at the head of the table. One of the maids standing next to Subaru pulled out a chair for him, and he nodded at her, but did not sit down.
He looked around.
And frowned.
“You know, I understand, of course, that you are shocked,” he began; from the very first syllable, Subaru knew that he would hate the sound of his voice. “That’s natural, and I have nothing against it, obviously. After all, it would be callous of me to show such a lack of understanding, and I consider myself a reasonably compassionate person, as befits my status. If I were in your position, I myself might be speechless, although this, of course, is only an assumption: in the end, none of us is capable of truly knowing what it is like to be someone else. However—and I emphasize that this is in no way a nitpick on my part, but a sound assessment that you should keep in mind first and foremost for the future, although, of course, I cannot force you, as regrettable as it may be—I cannot help but point out that it would be nice if you showed a little more respect for those who nobly let you into their home in difficult times, although they were not at all obliged! I'm not insisting, of course, it wouldn't even occur to me to demand respect, I'm not some kind of petty tyrant—but the fact that you think it's undeserved says a lot about you, and I'm afraid that it’s not very flattering! Do you think you're behaving decently now?”
He spoke slowly enough, savoring the sounds of his own voice, and yet Subaru felt like he couldn't get a word in. This man was talking complete nonsense, but he was convinced of it unconditionally, as if he were stating the basic truths, and under such a premise, any objections vanished from his mind.
But an objection did arise.
“Your Future Royal Majesty,” Reinhard spoke up, “please forgive them. These two young men, despite their noble nature, due to their backgrounds, have had no example of proper behavior in such high society. Undoubtedly, your example will influence them in the best possible way.”
“Wha…” Subaru started, but stalled halfway. His shoulder was squeezed, nails dug in, and all he could do was suck in a hissing breath through clenched teeth.
Reinhard looked at him. His eyes, blue and very clear, were pleading.
Subaru swallowed. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“Well, yeah,” he muttered with great effort. “We, uh. Are thankful and all that?”
“Yeah,” Rachins chimed in hoarsely, “very grateful.”
They were subjected to the scrutinized gaze again. Subaru's stomach cramped.
“Well, I suppose it’s better than nothing,” Regulus Corneas chuckled, looking pleased as he sat down, “though I hope you’ll be sensible enough to admit it’s not a successful attempt. I’m certainly not trying to humiliate you in the least; don’t get me wrong, I’m not the kind of person who enjoys humiliating people for the sake of entertainment. But I believe the truth must be accepted, even if it’s unpleasant, I’d even say, especially if it is. It’s good to see you’re beginning to grasp that. The ability to learn from your mistakes is a very important quality for a person, in my humble opinion. A person who gets it into their head that they can never make a mistake is a danger to society! Who knows what will pop into their head tomorrow? And it won’t even occur to them that they’re doing something wrong. In my opinion, that’s simply unacceptable. I, for one, would never allow myself to do such a thing. I know perfectly well that I'm capable of making mistakes, and I consider it my duty to learn from them; moreover, it brings me pleasure! Yes, yes, don’t be so surprised. That's why I am a perfect being. So, which of you two is the candidate for the throne?”
Subaru almost choked on his breath at the sudden change of topic. Rachins, giving him a nervous look for some reason, slowly raised his hand.
Regulus chuckled.
“Rachins is his first name,” Reinhard said, “and his last name, unfortunately, isn’t known to us…”
“Eh? Is he a mute?” Regulus interrupted him. “I don’t recall since when it has become your responsibility to represent anyone other than your future king. What kind of presumption is this? For your information, this behavior of yours can lead to a whole bunch of very unpleasant conclusions. Have you considered this? I’d like to hope not, although don’t assume that’s in any way welcome, but if you did it deliberately… Well, that’s a whole different matter!” He raised his eyebrows expressively.
“Sorry, Your Future Royal Majesty.” Reinhard lowered his head. “I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking straight.”
Regulus broke into a nasty smile, giving Rachins and Subaru a proud look.
“That’s better. So,” Regulus pointed at Rachins, “would you like to introduce yourself? Just so you know, that's how proper people are supposed to begin an acquaintance."
“Uh,” Rachins managed to squeeze out.
“The name’s ‘Uh’, well, how unusual. For your information, ‘Uh’...”
“Rachins! My name is Rachins.”
“Interrupting isn't a sign of good manners either.” Regulus's face was filled with undisguised pleasure. “And your knight?”
There was silence for a moment.
“My who?”
“Who, me?”
“Am I supposed to explain the concept of knighthood to you? It seemed to me that this should be common knowledge. Don't you pay any attention to the world you live in? By the way, I'm not your library.”
“My name is Natsuki Subaru, I’m not his knight, and this is like, the second, well, third time in my life I’ve met this guy!”
Regulus was almost glowing.
“I see. Well, Rachins, I offer you my sincere sympathy. It's truly a difficult situation you've found yourself in! Realizing how vanishingly small your chances of winning are must be a very bitter experience, though, mind you, quite a learning experience if you find the strength to handle it properly. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking things like, 'But what if I had a truly worthy knight,' 'But what if I could afford nice-looking clothes,' 'But what if I weren't such a boorish fool,' but the truth is, you shouldn't dwell on such trivialities and focus on the bigger picture. The truth is, you wouldn't have won even if you had this or that or even whatever secret weapon you can imagine, because I'm already in the running for the next king, which, you must admit, reduces your chances to zero. You see, it's not even your fault for the most part, it's just a matter of circumstances: sometimes people end up in places where they have absolutely no business being.”
“I'm not going to participate in any elections!” Rachins blurted out.
Regulus's smile froze, then widened. A fire lit up in his eyes.
“Really? Well, if it isn’t the smart decision. Please don't think that I'm saying this for any kind of personal gain. I am certainly interested in the honesty and transparency of the election process, and I have precisely zero interest in having no one left but me. Really, what kind of victory is that when you didn't have to defeat anyone to achieve it? If you’d agreed to participate, no matter how unwise it might be, I would have toppled you easily, but it's good that you didn’t. It's for your own good. Reinhard, why are you standing there like you're lost? What impression do you think you make on the guests? That I'm starving you? Are you going to make me look like a bad host? Come here.”
Reinhard dutifully took his place between Regulus and Subaru, not giving the latter even a glance.
“You eat.” Regulus furrowed his brows. “Why are you people not eating? You know, sitting at a table full of food and not even touching it is very disrespectful to the host. Are you trying to insult me? I really hope not!"
Subaru and Rachins ate the dishes almost entirely in silence, only responding when spoken to. The food tasted as bland as it looked. Regulus and Reinhard left theirs completely untouched.
***
After dinner was over and Reinhard and Regulus left with yet another clownery Subaru didn’t even care about at this point, the maids swiftly stood in the doorway, blocking the passage. Rachins stepped towards them with a sullen look, apparently expecting them to make way, but no. They didn't budge a centimeter, and he was left standing awkwardly in place.
“Dear guests, would you like to be shown to your rooms?” spoke a maid with mint-green hair that gave her pale skin an eerie dead look. “The beds have already been changed.”
“Actually,” Subaru was lucky that he had already started talking and it would be too awkward to retreat. Under the stares of the maids, he almost lost all the confidence he had accumulated during lunch. “I would like to talk to Reinhard.”
“What would you like to say to Mr. Reinhard? We can give him your message and come back to you with an answer.”
"Uh, thanks, but I'd rather do it myself." Subaru laughed nervously. “I just wanna talk to him about this and that, you know, between us ‘girls’…”
“Mr. Reinhard has retired to the chambers of the Future Royal Mr. Husband. It is strictly forbidden to disturb them.”
“Yeah, listen, well, I'm not a complete idiot, I'm just…” Subaru froze with his mouth slightly open. He had a feeling of impending doom. "Wait a minute, a husband?
“Future Royal Mr. Husband, yes.”
“Uh. Ha-ha. And whose husband is he?” Subaru was mortified. Reinhard was sitting in the seat closest to Regulus at lunch, and now he went to his chambers, which, if you think about it, could only mean...
“Mine," the mint-haired maid replied without hesitation.
“Mine,” replied the maid with thin, almost invisible eyebrows.
“Mine,” replied the snub-nosed maid.
“Mine,” replied the maid with a plump mouth.
“Mine,” came a voice from behind, to the left.
“Mine,” came a voice from behind, to the right.
“Mine,” came a distant voice from the other side of the room.
Like a scene from a horror movie, they all turned to look at him. Their voices and faces remained perfectly unchanged.
Subaru took a step back. His heel caught on the carpet, and the breath got caught in his throat. This was how people die in horror movies, too, stumbling and falling, making it an open season for the awaiting horde of monsters to devour the poor bastards...
The wives just stood.
Subaru dared to look at Rachins. He stared back at him with wide-open eyes. Apparently, that wasn't the usual order of things in this fantasy either.
Clearing his throat and blushing slightly, Rachins turned away from Subaru and bared his bandit grin, though it came out crooked. “Are you all married to him?”
Subaru mentally put this at second place in the top of the most idiotic questions that could be asked in a horror movie.
“Yes,” came a harmonious chorus in response. Subaru flinched, and so did Rachins.
“What a pervert, huh. Is one beauty not enough for him?” No, literally, this Killua wannabe was practically begging to be in the role of a sleazy guy who tries to pick up a creepy-looking beauty and dies first in her enormous teeth.
“While you are within the confines of this mansion, I ask you to refrain from such statements. Future Royal Mr. Husband will not tolerate insults aimed at him or any encroachment on his property,” a high-pitched voice said.
“Eh? Well, you know, I don't need to talk to no Reinhard, so can I just walk out and get out of here? I don't want to be stuck in this mansion, don’t even doubt.”
“Please stay at the mansion. Future Royal Mr. Husband will not tolerate disrespect for his hospitality,” a velvety voice said.
“Yeah, yeah, never met a more hospitable guy in my life. You know what, I'm sick of this!”
Rachins rushed forward.
None of the wives even blinked.
They were surrounded immediately. The seemingly fragile girls stood around them in a circle and grabbed them with all their strength—Subaru felt as if nails were digging into his bones.
“We'll escort you to your rooms,” said the mint-haired wife.
***
The door was locked behind him. It didn't look like it could be broken, and Subaru wasn’t able to find any lockpicking equipment either—he double-checked.
He paced aimlessly around the room. He had to think.
Subaru faced a new mini-boss. This guy, Regulus, was clearly up to no good. How could he even think that someone would ever vote for him? He was obviously not the brightest. At the very least, it was unlikely that this story arc would stretch for long.
Was it worth it for Subaru to continue his quest to find and talk to Reinhard?
He stopped. On the one hand, Reinhard, it turns out, worked for Regulus or something like that. But at their first meeting, he didn't strike Subaru as a bad guy... He was genuinely worried about people, maybe even too much. Was he one of those classic villains’ henchmen who could be later recruited? Subaru certainly wouldn't mind a party member like that.
And where did Rachins fit into this storyline?
Subaru's thoughts hit a wall. To hell with Rachins.
He had to get out.
Subaru walked over to the window. According to the laws of logic and genre, in such an old mansion, there must be a backdoor that happens to be not intensely guarded. The classic start of a stealth mission.
He opened the window, took a deep breath, and jumped.
***
His leg hurt, but didn't seem to be fractured or dislocated—he could step on it, even if through clenched teeth. Subaru limped to a bush nearby (camouflage could not be neglected) and looked around.
Yeah, the garden was going through some rough days. Up close, the impression was quite gloomy. It felt like every corner exuded the desire of the owner to fill the yard with cement, and only the failure to be born before the invention of it stopped him. Oh, and that broken apple tree was there, too.
After waiting for the pain in his leg to subside to a tolerable level, Subaru looked around and headed for the tree. It was simply too eye-catching: what could it be but an important element of the narrative? He watched a couple of lessons on game design on YouTube, he knew what he was talking about.
The apple tree was not broken.
Well, not exactly. Rather, it was cut off, only at a strange, very oblique angle. Subaru couldn't even imagine how one would have to hold the saw to make this happen. There were no chainsaws here, were there? Maybe Pochita would have managed.
The longer Subaru looked at this perfectly smooth cut, the more uncomfortable he felt. It was as if he was looking at some ominous foreshadowing… of what?
“Subaru.”
The screech that Subaru made would have given any timid tsundere a head start.
...that is, if it were to be actually made. As soon as the sound started to gurgle in his throat, a big gloved hand landed on his mouth and squeezed it lightly.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Reinhard said. He really looked remorseful, but not nearly enough for someone who had just…?! “Please don't scream anymore.”
Subaru discovered that, no matter what, he still wanted to obey him.
“What are you…? What…?” he managed to say at (in?)appropriate volume.
A smile touched Reinhard's lips. It wasn't happy.
“I suppose you have a lot of questions.”
“That's putting it mildly! What the... how…” Under Reinhard's gaze, all the definitely important dialogue options that would reveal crucial lore seemed to disappear into the void. Subaru gave up. "Why are you with him?"
“It so happens that my duty is to accompany him until the royal elections are over. I would like to hope that your and our paths will not cross in this race.”
“Hey, that's not an answer at all! And what do you mean, ‘your and our’?”
Reinhard put his hand on his shoulder. Subaru felt a bad sense of deja vu.
“Subaru.” Reinhard sounded and looked very, very serious, “Rachins must participate in the Lugunican Royal Selection.”
The wind blew, rustling the leaves from the remaining half of the apple tree. Maybe that was what made Subaru feel cold.
“Huh? What does that have to do with me?”
The hand slipped from his shoulder. Something changed in Reinhard's eyes.
“Convince him.” And Reinhard bent down, bowing to him, Natsuki Subaru, so low that no ordinary person would be able to repeat it. “I'm asking you from the bottom of my heart.”
“Reinhard!” Subaru gasped for air. “I… I… Why me? Can't you?!”
Reinhard straightened up. His expression barely changed, and yet the tension of muscles on his face betrayed it, showing a glimpse of the storm of emotions behind it.
“He won't listen to me. I'm afraid I'm not very gifted in matters of persuasion. But listen, Subaru, Rachins has a chance to win.”
“Are you trying to prank me?”
“I what?”
“I mean, joking.” Subaru blushed again against his will. “Rachins? Have you seen him? Your parents wouldn't even let people like him in the house, they'd ask you what kind of weird friends you have!”
Reinhard seemed genuinely alarmed.
“You think?”
“Obviously! Parents of someone like you, well—” Reinhard stared at him uncomprehendingly, and Subaru faltered. “They're probably strict or something. Anyway, why are you so hung up on that guy?”
Reinhard was silent for several unimaginably long seconds, not taking his strange gaze off Subaru, but finally, he blinked.
“I know Rachins... doesn't fit the typical idea of a king, but all things considered, Subaru, I assure you his chances aren't that bad. Given his background, the nobility will take a liking to him, and..”
“Background?” And that sounded suspiciously like...
“Rachins is from…”
Reinhard took off.
Subaru had already had the opportunity to see Reinhard's superhuman capabilities at the loot house, and yet he caught his breath yet again. One second Reinhard was standing next to him, and now he was at the corner of the mansion, grabbing Rachins' elbow with a death grip.
Ignoring his still-aching leg, Subaru rushed towards them.
“How did you get out of your chambers?” He heard Reinhard as he got closer.
“I picked the lock,” Rachins said, clearly trying to put on a brave face. “I pulled the spring out of the mattress, and… What do you all want from me, huh?!” he began to yell. “I already said I won't participate in anything!”
“You should stay at the mansion at least until…”
“Don't get me wrong, I don't like to interfere in other people's affairs at all—I have absolutely no interest in knowing everything in the world, unlike some notorious personalities out there, for example—but still, allow me to ask, what is all this noise here?”
Subaru shuddered.
Regulus now stood right behind him, having approached them without a single noise. He looked at Subaru intently, and he felt goosebumps on his skin following Regulus’ gaze.
“Your Future Royal Majesty,” Reinhard gasped.
“I hope you're not using my title just to say it out loud. I know exactly what my title is, thank you very much. It's pretty annoying, you know, when instead of saying something meaningful, people just call my title or name, as if that's supposed to—what? Am I meant to be touched? Softened? It's a pretty ridiculous attempt and, by the way, a waste of my time, and no one has an infinite amount of it in this world, no matter how many idiots behave as if they do. Personally, I know the value of time. Every minute counts for me, and you’d be better off following my example. So what were you going to tell me?”
“Your Future Royal Majesty, we were just…” Reinhard paused, and despair appeared in his eyes.
He really wasn't that good at persuasion, Subaru realized. His mind raced, and faster than a complete thought came to him, he began to speak.
“Ah, haha, I'm sorry, we just, you know, decided to go for a walk, uh, together, yeah, because it's such a nice day, why be stuck at home…”
“Hey, I'm sorry,” Regulus turned his head to him, “but since when have you been named Reinhard van Astrea?”
“Well, from a certain point of view…”
“From my point of view,” Regulus's voice was rapidly getting colder, “I was addressing my, I emphasize, only my knight, Reinhard van Astrea. Who, as far as I can tell, you are not. What makes you think you have the right to interfere in someone else's conversation? The conversation that is nothing less than conducted between the future monarch and his most loyal subject, and therefore is deeply personal and does not tolerate interference from any outside fairytellers who have decided that their fantasies are worth at least a grain of my attention, because in their understanding, I am probably an idiot who is ready to generously listen to any nonsense. Is that your opinion of me? Do you think I'm an idiot?”
“You…!” Rachins began.
Subaru's lungs filled with laughter. He couldn't contain it: it seemed like he would burst rather than be able to keep it inside.
“Well, you know, to be honest…!”
Regulus pointed at his chest.
It didn't even hurt at first. He just ran out of air all at once.
Regulus's face was reddening. His lower lip was shaking, and his eyes were wandering wildly.
A strangled wheeze sounded from the side. And from somewhere nearby, too.
Oh, it seemed like the second one was Subaru.
He collapsed to the ground. Everything became weirdly far away.
“Regulus!”
“What? He's not even a candidate.”