𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓

TWENTY THREE.

warning: suicide mentions, panic attack, PTSD (yes the angst has been delivered)

The [Rose Gown] event had been one of the most famous ones in the game. Elliot had gone to the academy with Angelina, but she was later harassed by the nobles. The game saw an increase in sales of Elliot after he had valiantly protected her from the viciousness of high society.

Valiantly, my ass.

And this time, Y/n was going with Aristidis. It was inevitable that his partner would be the prince, after all: it wasn't like anyone dared to ask him now that he had made his mark.

The carriage ride rocked to and fro. Perhaps that was the first sign of omen—was that even a form of superstition in this world? The system had been quiet. Oddly quiet. Iris had not said a single word; but Y/n was starting to notice a pattern. Whenever he didn't stop the events, nothing happened. But when he did, hidden events popped up. Iris claimed it was merely because he had neglected his role or whatsoever, but Y/n knew she was a habitual liar. What was the last thing Iris had said to him?

You failed again. To free the characters. Her voice had been desperate.

Why would she even care? Unless the release of the otome love interests involves her own happy ending.

Iris was a narcissist.

Iris was selfish.

Iris would only do things if it involved some sort of..attractive ending for her.

There's something wrong here.

"We are here!" Angelina bubbled with excitement, "oh, Brother, this is my first ball since my debutante! Do you think Elliot will like me in this dress?" She whispered shyly, and Y/n glanced at her dress; a well-fitted gown that hugged her body well, color an emerald green—dazzling, but not too dazzling. It went well with her own stunning eyes. Her earrings were simple studs, glimmering softly when the light hit it. Overall, she simply looked stunning.

"Of course," Y/n said loyally, "but why Elliot? I thought things with Claude were going pretty well.."

"Oh, Elliot and I are just friends," Angelina brushed it off with a shrug, "it's nothing special. It's purely platonic. I couldn't bear to reject him; he looked so miserable alone, and.."

Grow some eyes, Y/n internally thought, that guy is definitely into you!

If it was Claude, the event might have been avoided. At one point after he had gotten injured so many times, Y/n had kind of...procrastinated on stopping the events for a little while. But when he did stop the events..hm. He was almost thrown to death. A coincidence? That was a possible explanation but was highly unlikely.

"You look wonderful yourself," Angelina grinned, "I must say, at least His Highness can choose outfits well. It'll make the fact you two are matching tolerant."

Y/n adjusted his collar self-consciously. This was the first ball he would have since..his whole life, actually. Both current and past. His past self would have roared with laughter; the pathetic kind, Y/n was sure—and would have continued to wallow in depression. After all, he was so sick even having a normal life was out of the question. Though this life couldn't be called normal too..

"Is His Highness not arriving with you?"

"Duty calls," Y/n said regretfully, "I heard he tried to weasel his way out of his royal duties—of work, whatever they call it—but his father; the Emperor was adamant. Muttered some nonsense about his son being utterly infatuated along with a few not-so-nice vocabulary."

Like he remembered, the Emperor and Empress were negligent. They didn't care for each other. They didn't hate each other, but there was the ice-cold frostiness that Aristidis had grown up with.