This was the condition that tortured me continuously during all my lifetimes as Joan. I couldn’t see the description in that world, but I could feel it inscribed in my soul. I could feel it reaching up out of the depths whenever I thought I was close to infringing upon those virtues, catching my words in my mouth, stopping my hand, making me blush, or even choking the breath out of me.

  I felt those virtues land in me whenever the priest called them out from the church lectern.

  Prudence, to know and do what is right and proper.

  Justice, to fight to make sure everyone is given their rightful due.

  Fortitude, to have the strength and resilience to carry on, no matter the adversity.

  Temperance, to hold back one’s desires for carnal pleasure.

  It made me an unbending, stubborn bitch in the strategy sessions. No underhanded tactics, no feints or sleight of hand as suggested by the Bastard—fond as those memories were, just direct and relentless attacks by the will of God.

  It made me a hard person to get along with personally; I gave no quarter, and I always pulled back.

  It made me susceptible to the Dauphin’s seemingly innocent, vulnerable eyes.

  No! We won’t dwell on him. All of that is in a past now gone.

  —

  Just as the Consort was about to dismiss us, a loud voice pierced the din of idle chatter, echoing off the ceiling above. “That’s not fair!”

  A green-haired boy shoved his way out of the crowd and stood before us flanked by a couple of guards. Anthony pointed at me. “She’s mine! I saw her first!”

  The Consort eyed him for a long moment and then laughed, slapping her thigh. “My prince. I know the kingdom will be yours in time. But you should show some moderation. You already have one betrothed. Does having two not seem rather… excessive?” She then gestured over to Tomas standing beside me with wide, shocked eyes. “Will you not spare a treasure for my poor Tomas?”

  “I want her instead!” Anthony declared defiantly, his hands on his hips.

  “Is that not for the King, and your mother to decide?” She leaned forward, resting her chin upon the back of her fist. “What does the Queen think about your intentions?”

  Anthony flinched, stumbling a step.

  “Plus, there’s also her father. Leopold… what do you think of this request?”

  “The Queen must broach this matter with me. Family should come first, after all,” HE intoned, facing Anthony coolly.

  “There, you heard him. Go talk to your mother.” Evelyn taunted him sweetly, then she waved at the crowd. “Everyone please resume what you were doing. And Prince Anthony, you’re welcome to enjoy our little celebration as well.”

  Everyone resumed their conversations, turning their backs on the Crown Prince, including the Consort who turned her full attention back to HIM.

  Anthony gnashed his teeth in frustration, shaking a fist in the air.

  “Are you angry at me, brother?” Tomas asked, walking up to him.

  “No… yes! You stole her from me after I told you about her!” Anthony jabbed a finger at the shorter boy’s chest, shoving him back.

  I stopped myself from intruding. Anthony’s words held no real heat, and neither Evelyn nor the guards looked at all concerned.

  Tomas’ eyes were sparkling even as he was being pushed back.

  It seems the boys had a good relationship.

  “I didn’t do anything! And… Don’t you have Leticia? She’s so nice.”

  Anthony’s eyes lit up. “So you want to trade?”

  “Uh…” Tomas’ panicked eyes shot toward me for help. He clearly did not want that.

  I shook my head. “Your Highness, we are not toys for you to exchange. That is a game only our betters can play.”

  Tomas tilted his head, looking confused. But Anthony laughed. “See Tomas. I told you she’s great!”

  My eyes caught sight of Ben’s head bobbing in the crowd, trying to push past a few guards.

  I was about to ask them to let him through when a smooth, refined voice interrupted me. “Ah, Prince Tomas. Congratulations on your engagement to your lovely fiancée.” A man with jet-black hair, severely combed back into a straight top-knot, bowed to Tomas and then to me.

  He wore a stiff-looking jacket with wings extending over his shoulders and voluminous, flowing trousers. A samurai?

  “Thank you… ambassador?” Tomas stumbled over his words, trying to come up with a name.

  The man didn’t seem offended. “And greetings to you as well, Crown Prince Anthony.”

  To my surprise, Anthony’s tone turned formal. “Of course, it’s good to see you as well, Ambassador Saito-san. Our last talk was enlightening.”

  “If I may. I would like to introduce some other members of my delegation to you.”

  As Saito introduced the other members of the group, I noticed a young, teenage girl standing in the back. She had their characteristic dark-black, straight hair, and a pretty face that stirred up a memory…

  The lord who had attacked Ben and me. Could they be related?

  It was the shape of those dark eyes, the intensity in them. I was faced with that very same piercing intensity as his sword sliced down my back.

  She didn’t notice me observing her; instead, those black eyes were locked intensely on Anthony. Her hand was inching toward something hidden beneath her wide, flower-dotted silk sleeves.

  “Here, we have Ishikawa Ayaka, who is here in place of her father, Lord Ishikawa Minoru.”

  Clack.

  Ayaka’s wooden shoe struck the ground softly as she swept forward, sinking low for a bow. Her hand was deep in one sleeve, her muscles taut, coiled and ready to spring.

  I stepped in front of Anthony. “I recognize this young lady. I believe I had a nice conversation with her father before.”

  The girl’s head snapped up, her eyes quivering, now locked on to me. “Nani?!”

  I didn’t need my [Demon Insight] to know what that meant.

  “Pardon me, Lady Josephine,” the ambassador said, his voice wavering in confusion. “But did you truly talk with her father? We are concerned about his whereabouts. He’s been gone for a while.”

  “Yes, he and his friend, Takashi, approached me at a rather unfortunate time.”

  “Takashi too? Where are they?!” the girl demanded angrily in heavily accented Avatinian. Her hidden hand was definitely gripping the hilt of a sword, and the angle of her arm indicated a quick draw-and-swing from the sheath.

  She was certainly aiming for the Prince before, but now, her body shook as she hung upon my answer.

  The question is, should I draw her out now? Or settle this another time? There are a few things I need to know.

  “Ishikawa-san, you’re being extremely rude! It was a mistake bringing you here.” Saito snapped down at the girl before bowing to me. “I’m sorry for her rudeness, Lady Josephine. She’s still new to your ways.”

  It looks like he has no idea. And I won’t get another chance like this with her.

  “I’m not offended, Ambassador. And to answer her question, they’re dead.” I turned to her, our gazes locking.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  In The Hundred Years War game, you could gauge the strength of enemies by just clicking on them. That wasn’t available to me as Joan, but lifetimes of fighting had honed a similar intrinsic sense in me. It only took a glance.

  Before, I wasn’t sure how well that sense worked in this world, but after fighting with this girl’s father and Takashi, and then sparring with Leon and Captain Soren, I knew that perception was still on point.

  It told me she was nowhere near the level of her father. She didn’t even come close to Takashi.

  Raising my chin, my eyes delved into the dam of despair behind hers and pushed. “I killed them in self-defense.”

  “Nwwaaarrrghhh!!”

  An inhuman, animalistic cry tore out of her lips, her face twisting in rage and sorrow. Her sword sang out of its sheath, its familiar curved blade slicing through the air toward my neck.

  It could’ve taken my head…

  But she had telegraphed her swing, and she was too slow.

  My [Quickness] of 52 was good even for generals, and I had moved on from catching bugs to catching the [Shadow Spike] I threw from one set of [Shadow Fingers] at another. My [Spd] of 87 was the highest of all my physical stats.

  My fingers closed around the spine of the blade, catching it mid-air, inches from my neck. My heart fluttered as my flesh touched the cold steel. It was like crossing paths with a kindred spirit. I could feel its beauty, the many layers of its tempered steel. It sang to me of the repeated agony of the forge: the blazing red coals, the pounding of the hammer, the sizzling bath, and the final, chilling taste of frozen snow.

  My gaze traveled forlornly down the length of the polished steel blade.

  We had only just met, but the maelstrom of rage roiling in the eyes of its wielder told me we had to part.

  She was so young, and already drowning in anger and pain.

  I was granted reprieve, so it’s time to pass it on.

  My fingers found the stress point of this sword I’d grown to know so intimately now, and forced it to bend until…

  CRACK!

  It snapped, revealing two sheared metal ends. The beauty of the pattern in that cross-section. A tear rolled from my eye.

  “Josephine!” Anthony cried from behind me, but I put up a hand to calm him.

  “It seems this foreigner wanted to play with me using a toy sword,” I announced to the room. “But I broke it.”

  The girl’s eyes shot back and forth between me and her broken, bladeless hilt, looking utterly incredulous.

  “Come, we should talk somewhere more private.” I placed my hand upon her shoulder, my fingers digging into the soft areas beneath the collar bones, right under her neck. She staggered on wobbly legs, and I dragged her with me. After hundreds of lifetimes of continuous battles, I’d learned a thing or two about subduing people.

  Four of her companions blocked my path, their stances low, hands reaching into their wide sleeves.

  “Everyone! Please settle down!” Saito shouted, his voice sharply pitched.

  They didn’t budge from their position, and I didn’t move from mine.

  “Gentlemen, if so much as an inch of your toy blades leave their sheaths. Your heads will roll on the floor. The royal guards of Avatince will not take kindly to weapons drawn in front of the Crown Prince.” I dipped my head to the Royal Guards now standing behind the men, the same ones who were at my first birthday party.

  Surprisingly, they returned my nod.

  The men sensing the presence of the guards, slowly backed away as I dragged the weakly thrashing girl with me toward the exit.

  The Ambassador simply watched, his jaw hanging open.

  “Stop!” The Consort shouted, stepping in front of me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Mother! She was protecting herself. That girl attacked her.” Tomas said as he ran over to me.

  I gave him an appreciative nod. At least he’s on my side.

  “Be that as it may, these are my guests. Tell me, future daughter-in-law, what do you intend to do with that girl?”

  I pushed down on Ayaka’s shoulder, forcing her down to her knees. “I have questions, and I believe she has answers.”

  “And you believe that you can get answers out of her? I didn’t realize that was one of your talents as well.”

  My eyes watched the features of Evelyn’s face. She was trying to hide it, but a hint of worry lined her eyes. “I can be rather convincing.”

  I have [Seduce] after all. Though, I’m unsure if [Virtuous] will allow for it…

  Her thin lips tightened, obscuring a slight wince. “No, that won’t be necessary. We can’t have a future princess do dirty work.”

  She commanded sharply. “Release her to my guards.”

  Well, that answers one question. I now know who hired them.

  I’d seen it before: the way the Consort looked at the girl, that disgusted sneer. The way nobles looked at you once you’re past your usefulness.

  You are just garbage to them.

  I sank beside the girl and whispered in a single breath. “Release in three.”

  One… Two… Three…

  I lifted my hand and declared, “alright, here she is.”

  The girl bolted from my side, rolling under the grasp of a guard before he could react. Then she disappeared into a puff of smoke.

  “I said to the guards! You…!” the Consort snarled at me, her voice boiling with fury.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I misheard.” I curtsied as she stormed away.

  —

  As we watched her leave, Tomas looked over at me bashfully. “Sorry. Mother gets like that sometimes.”

  “It’s no fault of yours. Thanks for coming to my aid, My Prince.” I smiled at him again.

  It doesn’t hurt to be kind, especially to someone who has helped you.

  “Hey! I tried as well!” Anthony jumped in.

  I tried, really hard, to ignore the green bar over his head. Another blaring sign that I’m in a Dating Sim!

  “All you did was… shout my name?”

  Anthony grimaced, lashing out defensively. “I knew you’d be fine, because… because you’re a hero!”

  “She is?!” Tomas’ eyes grew huge.

  “Show him your hand!” Anthony demanded.

  I wanted to refuse, but there was a fierce determination in his golden eyes. Tomas was looking eagerly at me with those very same eyes.

  With a tired sigh, I peeled off my left glove, revealing the bracelet.

  “Wait! That’s a ruby and it’s silver! It’s a novice bracelet! Did you go on a quest already? No fair!” Anthony moaned wildly.

  He certainly knows a lot about these things. But what’s he complaining about? Did he actually want to go on a quest… with me?

  Tomas had a totally different reaction. “Your hand looks so shiny, can I touch it?”

  “Me first!” Before I even realized what was happening, Anthony shoved Tomas aside and grabbed my hand, slipping a ring around my finger.

  “You can wear it!” Anthony exclaimed in shocked triumph, as if he hadn’t been sure it would work.

  What did he expect was going to happen?

  The ring on my finger was a simple gold hoop, but upon closer inspection, engraved on its surface was the symbol of a dragon with oversized, spread-out wings: the symbol of the royal family.

  “This… is a bit much.” A sense of dread and numbness spread out from the ring down my finger. “I don’t think you should be giving me this!”

  But Anthony was already fleeing the scene. “It’s your early birthday present! You better not lose it!” He shouted over his shoulder, not looking back.

  Full-on panic seized me as I scrambled to pull my glove back on, but Tomas was now holding my hand and looking at me with puppy eyes. “Can I kiss your hand? It’s okay, right?”

  “Yes… yes. That’s fine.”

  I have royal blood? Well, that makes sense, since HE probably has royal blood. Maybe my mother does as well. Aren’t high nobility all inbred anyway?

  An avalanche of thoughts crashed over me. They all led to one conclusion: I did not want this thing. I don’t want to be “first”, or “bear its greatest responsibility”.

  It’s all alarm bells.

  Tomas’ soft, warm lips pressed against my fingers. His face was blushing, and when I realized what happened, I responded in kind.

  That stupid [Virtuous] condition again!

  —

  When we got back home, HE was waiting for me along with Elise in the foyer, standing stiffly beside each other. Strangely, they were holding hands.

  Elise wore a rather subdued, high-collar dress with long sleeves. Its dark green wool didn’t hug her tight, but her baby bump was prominent, and immediately obvious, a sign of her new place in the household.

  She circled her hand, indicating for everyone to leave, including Mama, who took one last worried glance at me.

  I placed my hands before my waist, and straightened up, bracing myself for what’s to come.

  But the words that Elise spoke weren't what I expected. “You did very well today, daughter. You made the entire family proud, and we are glad you found happiness there.”

  She nudged HIS arm and then pointed toward me. Our eyes met, and once again, I was confronted by the strain of his rage, his anger, his sadness, that storm swallowing me.

  “Yes… you were perfect today. She… no, I am proud.” His voice quivered, but his eyes were steady this time. He didn’t look away.

  I stood there, trying to weather that storm. But it stripped away the anger and frustration that had built up over the course of the day. He was no longer HIM. He was once again the father who looked at me with such pained eyes.

  That gaze was painful for me too. In the storm of his rage, his anger, and his sadness, I saw a reflection of me.

  Tremors wracked my body, and I gripped my hands together to stop the shaking.

  “Is there something you wish to say to your father?” Elise prompted gently.

  This man… I killed his wife. I stole the life of his daughter.

  I owe him his due.

  I was withering beneath his gaze. I couldn’t take it. All this time, it was not just him who couldn’t stand the sight of me.

  It appears I can’t stand it either.

  Collapsing under the weight of that gaze, my head dropped as I sank to my knees. I was guilty, so very guilty.

  “I’m sorry! So very sorry!”