Chapter 3: My First Tea Party, and Some New Friends

And so the seasons passed — soon, it was summer. I, Katarina Claes, was now nine years of age. For my birthday, I received a cute-looking dress from father and a bouquet of flowers from Keith. From my mother, however, I received a mountainous pile of books on manners and social etiquette.

Jeord, for his part, came to me bearing a luxurious gift — a necklace with all sorts of expensive-looking gemstones in it. Of course, there was no way I could accept something like that, and so I refused it as best as I could.

The prince then asked what I would want instead, and after some thought, I decided to ask for watermelon saplings. It would be most fitting for my fields to have some fruit.

As usual, Jeord froze up and remained unmoving momentarily after hearing my request for saplings, but true to his word, did deliver quite a few impressive-looking plants the very next day. Not wanting to waste any time, I quickly had the saplings planted. If the watermelons did bloom and bear fruit, I would be sure to share some with Jeord.

On another note, my father, who doted on me as usual, suggested holding a lavish birthday party for me. Personally I did not want the attention, and so I refused. My mother, agreeing with me on the grounds that I would make an embarrassment of myself, convinced my father to listen to me... for once.

Even so, a party did have to be held when I turned fifteen — a social debut of sorts to maintain the family’s reputation.

My mother, claiming that she would “do something about me by then,” seemed a little too enthusiastic about the process. The very thought of my mother’s already spartan etiquette lessons struck fear into my heart.

I had started training with my long-awaited magical tutor, who claimed that “communicating with one’s origin” was not quite what I was imagining. With that, I realized that tilling the earth and planting fruit was not going to increase my magical powers. Even so, I continued my fieldwork as a hobby.

A few months into our magic training, Keith began to develop a greater sense of control over his magical powers; as expected of my adopted brother. My Earth Raiser, on the other hand, had improved from a two to three centimeter bump. It was now as tall as seven to eight centimeters.

Yes, yes. A great achievement, at least for me. Perhaps I would soon be able to control Earth Golems, just like Keith.

While not exactly perfect, my life continued on peacefully, until...

“...Ahh. Why is it, I wonder?” I said, kneeling down on the field.

I was flanked by Keith, my cute adopted brother, and Prince Jeord, who was now visiting the Claes manor once every three days or so.

“What is it, Big Sister?”

“What is wrong, Katarina?”

Keith and Jeord both piped up, apparently curious.

I pointed out a corner of the field to them in response. “Look at that.”

The plants in that specific corner were terribly wilted, to say the least. Soon, it would be harvest season — the plants in that corner, however, didn’t seem like they would make a very good harvest at all.

“I’ve been taking care of the plants in that corner over there...” I sighed once more, feeling somewhat down at what I had seen. Why did the plants I care for, and those alone, wilt and die?

To tell the truth, I was not that good at taking care of plants in my previous life either. From morning glory flowers to cucumber plants, anything I touched would eventually wilt.

Even so, I had been reborn! Surely I would be able to raise plants perfectly this time... or so I thought. I gazed upon the plants sadly.

“Big Sister, are you not tired from your field work? Perhaps you should rest here for a while...”

“Yes, yes. It is best that you rest your body, Katarina.”

Both Keith and Jeord spoke to me as I hung my head, both extending their hands, offering to help me up. Their gazes met.

“Prince Jeord. I will lead my Big Sister to shelter — also, it is quite all right if you do not show up for social visits so often.”

“I am Katarina’s future husband, Keith. I will lead her to shelter. In fact, it is quite all right if you do not insist on sticking to Katarina all the time.”

While the two never did meet in the game, both Keith and Jeord now got along very well. They were both smiling, and seemed to have quite a bit of fun throwing the occasional jibe at each other. At the sight of these two cheerful boys before me, I looked towards the corner and sighed once more.

“Oh, my Katarina. We have received an invitation to a tea party. Would you like to attend?” my father asked.

“Tea... party?” I asked, responding while stuffing my face full of bread.

My mother, however, shot me a murderous glance — and with a big gulp, I swallowed the bread as quickly as I could.

“Yes, a tea party. You are now nine, a good age for attending such a function, I would think.”

It was apparently common in this world for nine- or ten-year-olds to attend tea parties, in preparation for their eventual social debut at age fifteen. The main aim, of course, was to let the children of nobles intermingle.

“I suppos—”

“Out of the question! My dear husband, Katarina is hardly armed with the prerequisite manners for such an affair!” my mother snapped, seemingly agitated by my response.

“Well... there is a bit of that, yes, but would she not learn a little if exposed to it? Also, the invitation comes from a relative of mine, you see. They are not exactly outsiders — I think it is a good opportunity for Katarina,” my father said as he shot a sideways glance at me.

Hmm? Did you mean what you said, father? Why the sideways glance?

“...Yes, I suppose you are right... Perhaps she would learn the importance of it all, should she see it in person...” my mother said, turning to me as she did so. Her eyes were blank and hollow.

Why the eyes, mother?!

“Yes, Keith shall attend the party with her as well. We can all rest assured if Keith is with her,” my father said, nodding his head in satisfaction. His expression seemed to suggest that he had come up with a breakthrough of a solution.

My mother readily agreed with him. “...Yes. Yes, that’s right. It’ll be all right if Keith is with her...”

Come to think of it, my adoptive younger brother, who had been working hard at bettering himself, now had great favor with my parents.

“Keith, would you go with Katarina to the tea party?”

“Yes father. I will be most pleased to go with Big Sister.” Keith responded, a refined smile on his face.

Eh? But... But I’m the Big Sister here! Why am I being treated as a no-good problem child who has to be babysat by Keith?

And so, while I had quite a few things to say about these developments, I ended up going with Keith to my very first tea party.

After even more lessons on manners and etiquette with mother, and an endless barrage of tips and warnings, the day of the tea party finally arrived. On this day, my father had me wear a newly-tailored dress. I accompanied Keith to the home of Marquess Hunt, the host of the party.

“Lady Katarina, Master Keith. Thank you very much for attending our family’s tea party today.”

These words were delivered unto us by none other than Lillian Hunt, the eldest daughter of the Hunt family. With her honey-colored hair and eyes, she was a young girl of fourteen, almost ready for her social debut.

Standing behind her were three young girls, whom I assumed to be her sisters. If memory served, there were four daughters in the Hunt family roster.

Lillian’s sisters introduced themselves in order of seniority — the second, then the third. Both of these two girls resembled their oldest sister. I returned their curtsies and bows as best as I could, recalling what my mother had so desperately taught me.

After three of the four sisters had greeted us, a fourth girl with a somewhat shy and hesitant demeanor came forward. “...H-Hello... It is n-nice to meet you. I am the... fourth sister, M-Mary Hunt...”

The girl introduced herself with an impossibly soft voice. Unlike her sisters, her hair and eyes were a deep shade of red — almost a burnt sienna. She was, however, beautiful in her own right — with her big eyes and well-shaped pink lips.

Mary did her curtsies and bows, prompting me to respond in kind. Immediately after, however, she retreated behind her sisters, disappearing from view.

...Is it because of my face? Because I look like some sort of villainess? True, perhaps I do look like a villainess, but that doesn’t mean I should be treated in such a fashion!

I felt a slight tinge of sadness in my heart as the Hunt sisters excused themselves, apparently off to greet their other guests.

A few rules for this tea party had been drilled into my mind by mother. For starters, I was not to talk too much, and should instead maintain a slight smile at all times. In addition, I was also not supposed to stuff my mouth full of snacks and candies, nor should I make uncouth slurping sounds when drinking my tea.

That wasn’t all — above all else, I could not hike up my dress and run about, even if I could not execute any of the above. My mother made it a point to stuff as many of these rules as she could into my ears.

This was why I, on this day of all days, tried to smile as elegantly as possible, and to sip my tea in a most ladylike fashion. After all, this tea party was a simulation of the formalities involved in the great social debuts we all had to eventually attend.

The Hunt sisters, still making their rounds and issuing the appropriate greetings, did not sit down for tea. Similarly, Keith and I had to do the same thing — before I knew it, we had walked around the room in many, many circles, and I was starting to get somewhat tired. Only then did we stop for tea.

Personally, I felt like I had put in quite the effort, so surely a single cookie would not hurt? I reached out to the tray.

Oh? What is this? This is a most delicious cookie.

Hmm. One more wouldn’t hurt.

And another.

Oh ho? Do I spy a muffin on that tray?

I shall try one.

In fact, there seemed to be quite a lot of snacks left — the other guests, seemingly lost in conversation, had hardly touched these trays of treats.

What a waste! I should have brought along a small box of sorts, so that I may take home some of these snacks with me. Perhaps I could borrow one from the Hunts?

“Big Sister.”

“...K-Keith?!”

Out of nowhere, my adopted brother materialized behind my back. Adequately surprised, I jumped in response. We had become separated while making our rounds, but before I knew it, Keith was standing right behind me.

“You surprised me, Keith! Are the introductions all over now?”

“Yes, they are mostly done. More importantly, Big Sister... why are you just standing here?”

“Umm...”

“You would not, perchance, be thinking of bringing back these leftover snacks in a small box of sorts, would you?”

“?!”

How is he so amazing?! What are you, some sort of esper? A psychic perhaps? Truly amazing. How did he know exactly what I was thinking?!

“That’s amazing, Keith! You know me so well!”

“...It is not a matter of me knowing you well, Big Sister. If you really went and did something like that, the class and upbringing of the Claes family would be severely called into question... Also, Big Sister, mother would surely ban you from eating any and all sorts of snacks for quite a while in retaliation.”

“...Ugh. You’re right...”

In fact, my mother had reacted this way a few days ago, when I picked up a fallen cookie from the ground and promptly ate it during an etiquette training session, citing the three-second rule. My mother, of course, prohibited me from eating any and all snacks for three entire days.

With that in mind, I could only imagine what would happen should I ask the Hunts for a box and come home with leftovers — a week-long ban, perhaps?

That... would be most regrettable. As unfortunate as it was, I had to dismiss the idea of taking these snacks home. In response, however, I stuffed my face full of whatever snacks I could get my hands on, having long forgotten the promise I had made with my mother.

Keith did try to warn me many times. Each time, however, the exchange went the same way. “Have you not had enough, Big Sister?” — “Oh, just a little more...” I would say as I continued gorging myself.

After all, it would be a tremendous waste to simply leave these snacks sitting around. And they were such delicious snacks!

Ah, truly delicious. This one over here too, just one more...

Predictably, a familiar pain soon invaded my abdomen — a telltale sign that I had eaten way too many cookies, candies, snacks, and the like. After reassuring the worried Keith that I was fine, all the while with a laughable expression on my face, I took off running to search for the washroom.

Upon locating a servant, I asked them for the location of the washroom. I had to turn down their offer of guidance, however, running off in another direction on my own. I would never make it in time if I were elegantly guided by a servant.

While I was relieved that I had located the washroom in time, my mad dash towards it had left me not remembering the way back to the reception area. Although the Marquess Hunt’s manor was nowhere near as large as my father’s, it was, for all intents and purposes, a large dwelling. It didn’t take me long to realize that I could not possibly hope to return by my own ability.

I suppose I could find another servant and ask. So I wandered the halls, only to stop dead in my tracks. Before me was... an impossibly beautiful sight.

A sea of flowers stretched out before my very eyes. A central, indoor courtyard of sorts, perhaps? Drawn in by the breathtaking landscape, I found a door leading downwards, and eventually walked slowly into this floral garden.

As soon as I had stepped foot into it, however, a girl stood up, seemingly surprised at my entrance. Although I should have called out to her as a gesture of courtesy, I hesitated, surprised at the encounter. She was the first to speak.

“...L-Lady Katarina. Why are you in... a place like this?” The girl was none other than Mary Hunt, fourth daughter of the Hunt family. We had exchanged pleasantries a short while ago.

“...Um. For a ch-change of pace, yes?” I could not possibly tell poor Mary that I had stuffed my face full of snacks, dashed to the bathroom, and became lost on the way back. In fact, I had no obligation to do so — and so this little white lie would do just fine.

“What are you doing here yourself, Lady Mary?” Having eaten too much and needing the washroom aside, I found it even stranger for one of the Hunt daughters to be hiding here on such an important occasion.

“...I... I am not very... good with crowds...” Mary replied, in that same soft, almost inaudible voice that she had greeted me with earlier.

She’s such a beautiful girl! What a waste for her to be shrinking away like this, hiding her face from the public!

Hmm. Or perhaps... is it really my face? Do I really look like a scary villainess?

Even if I did do my best to smile, there was a high chance that this villainess-face of mine would simply scare the beautiful yet fragile girl before me. In any case, I had to let her know that I was completely harmless!

“Th-This... This is quite the impressive garden. All these blooming flowers... stunningly beautiful, truly.” I tried my best to dispel my villainess-like aura, delivering my lines with a slight smile on my face.

I really did feel that way about the garden, however, so the compliments were sincere. Although the Claes manor’s gardens were respectable in their own right, this little garden had a unique charm of its own. The flowers in particular were especially prominent. The Hunt’s gardener must be a skilled individual indeed.

Hmm... That’s right!! What a great idea!

If this mystery gardener was so skilled at growing flowers, perhaps they would be able to provide me with some gardening advice, and even revive my wilting crop corner.

With that in mind, I quickly posed the question to Mary. “Say... Lady Mary, could you please introduce me to the gardener overseeing this magnificent garden?”

“...Huh...?”

“After all, these flowers are blooming splendidly! I would very much love to discuss certain matters with this amazing gardener of yours.”

Despite Mary’s increasingly uncomfortable expression, I inched steadily closer, my excitement causing my nostrils to flare as I heaped praise upon this unseen gardener of mystery.

Finally, Mary responded, in an almost inaudible voice. “...That... would be... me.”

“Eh?”

“I... I am the one who takes care of this garden...”

What?! Mary is the caretaker of this wondrous garden?!

“All of it, Lady Mary?! You take care of this entire garden all by yourself?!”

“Well... Not all of it, just this the plants in this little corner here...”

In other words, Mary was responsible for the sea of blooming flowers in the corner that I had been staring at all this time.

“...Incredible.”

“Huh...?”

“It’s incredible, Lady Mary! That you have cultivated such an impressive garden! How is it? What is the secret? How do all the flowers bloom like that? There must be some trick to it! Soil? Is it the soil?!”

“...A-Ah... Um. Lady Katarina.”

I was now dangerously close to Mary, having forgotten the concept of personal space in my excitement. Before I knew it, I had cornered this poor, fragile young lady, and was breathing on her very skin.

No good. I had gotten far too excited. With a quick but deep breath, I took a small step back, assuming as elegant a smile as I could. “W-Well. I would very much like to discuss the particular details of how you have managed to cultivate such an impressive garden, Lady Mary.”

“...Discuss? Particular... details?”

“Yes. Very much so.” If possible, I wished to hold this discussion with Mary before this summer’s harvest season.

Although Mary seemed surprised at the fact that I had tilled the earth and seeded the fields, she listened carefully to my description of the problem. At the very least, she no longer seemed frightened — and at that, I heaved an internal sigh of relief.

Eventually, I concluded my explanation.

“...If someone like me could be of use, I would give it my all. However, Lady Katarina, I have never cultivated crops or vegetables before. I cannot make any assumptions on words alone... I deeply apologize for being unable to help.”

“W-Well then! Could you not... visit? Perhaps?” I said somewhat desperately to Mary, who was hanging her head.

“Ah, but...”

Although Mary seemed somewhat reluctant, I continued pleading, even suggesting that I arrive with a horse carriage and escort her to the manor.

The life of my crops is on the line! This is of utmost importance! I recalled the cruel fate that my morning glories and cucumber plants had faced in my previous life.

Finally relenting under my continued assault, Mary agreed to pay a visit to the Claes manor and have a look at the crops herself.

Mary, however, fervently refused to be picked up, apparently willing to make the journey herself. With that, I was once again in a somewhat jovial mood, and was safely led back to the reception area by Mary.

Keith, however, let me have quite the earful, having been worried all this time at my sudden disappearance. For some reason, it felt like our big sister-younger brother relationship was now somewhat reversed...

And so it came to be that the first tea party in my life came to an end — relatively plainly, as opposed to a huge social embarrassment.

A few days after the tea party, Mary paid a visit to the Claes manor, as promised. To address the problem my crops were facing, Mary had even read up on crop cultivation in advance. Ah, what a kind, gentle girl.

After some conversation, I found out that Mary and I were the same age, and we became fast friends. Although she was somewhat afraid of me at first, Mary was now all smiles. And my crop corner would also eventually recover, albeit after countless visits from Mary.

“Mary... thank you so much! Because of you, the crops are doing well again!” I cheerfully said, gazing at the now-restored crops as I did so.

“No, you worked hard too, Lady Katarina.” Mary replied, that same gentle smile on her face.

Ah, to be smiled at by such a lovable, beautiful girl. A feast for the eyes.

“I was sure they would all wilt and die... But now look! You’re really something else, Mary.”

“... Th-That’s not true...”

Despite her humble demeanor, Mary really did have quite the talent at cultivating plants. It almost seemed like her very hands breathed life into ailing plants of all kinds.

Yes — Mary’s hands are special. Come to think of it, isn’t there a term for this sort of thing?

“You have quite the green thumb, Mary! Maybe even green hands too, ha!”

“...Green thumb?”

“Yes, a green thumb. It’s a term used to refer to those with a particular talent for cultivating plants, you see. Of course, it refers to more than just your thumb... Special hands, maybe!”

“...Special hands...”

“Yes! By your talented hands, you breathe life into dying plants! You’re really quite good at it!”

I held Mary’s hands strongly in my own. Mary, however, had her eyes wide open, and was preoccupied with staring at her own hands, now clasped in mine.

“...My hands are special...?”

“Yes! Green thumb, hand, you know! You’re a special and wonderful person!” I said, laughing. Mary smiled ever so slightly in response.

Ah, her smile is a true blessing. Like a blooming flower...

“Lady Katarina... your fields have now recovered, but... if it is possible, may I visit you again?”

“Of course! Come visit anytime!” I declared, laughing wholeheartedly as a I responded. Although Mary had asked the question in a reserved manner, she seemed pleased by my response.

“A green thumb is really quite remarkable, isn’t it?” Keith, who had been standing quietly next to me this whole time, said.

“Quite. Especially if they are on hands like Mary’s! She works wonders on plants.”

“Yes. A long time ago, I read a book called The Girl with the Green Thumb, and so I know of the phrase. Did you read that book too, Big Sister?

“Hmm... I don’t think so, Keith. At least, it wasn’t from a book... Somehow it just floated to the front of my mind.”

I remembered the phrase as I looked upon Mary. Did I learn of the phrase from some other place?

“That aside, Big Sister. Lady Mary has sure become more cheerful as of late.”

“That’s right! Although... she was quite afraid of me at first.”

“Eh? Afraid of you, Big Sister?”

“...Yes, unfortunately. It has to be this villainess-like face of mine.” I replied, in a self-deprecating manner. I really hate this villainess-like face that I’ve inherited from my mother.

Keith, for his part, seemed surprised. “...I don’t really think you look like a villainess, Big Sister... Also, Lady Mary did not act that way towards you alone — she was like that with everyone at the party.”

“...Eh? Really?”

“Yes. She has a somewhat shy and shirking demeanor regardless of who she is speaking with. Perhaps there are certain circumstances in the family that have caused her to lose her confidence.”

“...Circumstances? What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.

Keith could only stare back with a look of exasperation. “What exactly were you doing at the Hunt manor, Big Sister? Were you not listening to the conversations at the tea party at all?”

“...Ugh...” Come to think of it, I had immediately busied myself with attempting to take leftover snacks back home as soon as we had finished our social greetings. And after Keith had caught me in the act, I had responded by... stuffing my face with more snacks.

In the end, I hardly participated in any conversations at the tea party. In fact, that was why my lack of noble etiquette was not exposed! Yes, that was my plan all along. Yes, yes. Let’s leave it at that.

As if giving up on me, Keith sighed deeply. Ah... Well. I do apologize, my dear adopted brother.

Keith slowly explained what he had heard at the tea party to me, his hapless sister. From his words, it would seem that of the four Hunt sisters, only Mary looked different. The reason for this was simple — Mary, the fourth sister, was born of a different mother.

Marquess Hunt’s previous wife had died of illness, and after he remarried, he had a child with this new wife, said child being Mary. However, due to the fact that Mary’s mother was not of high noble status, she was not exactly welcomed in the Hunt family, with family members on both sides protesting their marriage.

To make things worse, Mary’s mother had passed on when she was still five, again due to illness. While the marquess did what he could to care for Mary, her sisters did not feel positively toward her at all.

They would torment her with verbal abuse daily, claiming that the “stench of commoners oozed from her being,” or that she “had no class.”

“...So that was why Mary acted in such a fashion...” I could hardly fault her for it — it was plain to see how one could lose confidence in themselves when subjected to such treatment on a daily basis. Thinking that she was somehow inadequate, Mary slowly became afraid of appearing before others.

“However, she is very much changed, now. I do believe Lady Mary will be all right,” Keith said, an empathetic expression on his face.

Is there something else about the matter that my hardworking adopted brother knows about? Although I had tried asking him about it, Keith deflected the question without much effort.

While Keith himself had been somewhat reserved and afraid when he had first come to the manor, he had matured significantly these past few months. Giving his all at etiquette and magic training sessions, he became more and more dependable.

Although I told him there was no need to rush towards adulthood, Keith claimed that he was doing it so he could protect what was important to him. He even told me those very words with an air of maturity about him — alas, it made me feel incredibly lonely. Attempts to find out what exactly Keith was trying to protect were deflected, as usual, and I could only sulk in response.

“On another note, Big Sister. Is Lady Mary not soon to be engaged to Prince Alan?”

“...Eh? Is that right?” I responded, halfheartedly agreeing with Keith. While I would have liked him to remain my cute little adopted brother for a little while longer, it seemed like Keith was quickly maturing into quite the young adult.

And again... what is this thing he wants to protect? What if... Wait. Is there a girl he likes?! Hold on, wait up! You should at least introduce this mystery girl to your Big Sister! I won’t allow any strange girls into this... Hmm? Keith seems to be saying something.

“...Keith. Could you please repeat yourself?”

“...Big Sister...” Keith stared at me, exasperation plastered across his face once more.

Ah, brother of mine. I do apologize.

“As I was saying, it will soon be time to announce Lady Mary’s betrothal to Prince Alan.”

“...Eh? Who’s Mary getting engaged to again?”

“Prince Alan. You remember, yes? Prince Jeord’s twin brother, the fourth prince in line to the throne?”

“?!”

“As she is now, there is a high chance that Lady Mary will be announced as Prince Alan’s future bride, yes.”

“...Engaged? Future bride? Prince Alan?”

“Well... it has not been confirmed yet, but now would be a good time for it. The Hunt family is known for its riches and high social position, even amongst the other marquesses. A most fitting candidate for the prince, as they are of the same age as well... Big Sister, where are you going?!”

After listening to a little over half of Keith’s explanation, I ran off, heading straight for my room. Prince Alan... Alan Stuart. He’s one of the possible love interests in the game!

Rushing back to my room, I quickly retrieved the “Archive of memories on the game I played in my past life” and cross-checked its contents.

After laying out the archive on my desk, I flipped through its pages rapidly before eventually coming to a stop at Prince Alan’s entry.

Alan Stuart

Jeord’s twin brother, and fourth in line to the throne. Up until age five, he had a considerably weak constitution, and his caretakers were not sure if he would survive. As a result, those around him did everything they could to ensure that he would live, eventually spoiling him in the process.

Due to this, his personality is a little twisted as well — although nowhere near Jeord’s level. Feeling a massive inferiority complex due to Jeord’s savant-like capabilities, he hardly spoke to his older brother, seeing him as an arch-rival.

At the age of fifteen, Alan would enroll in the academy with his brother, and often compete with him both academically and magically. When the results of the academy’s first test are published, however, Alan came in third, with Jeord in first place, and the protagonist in second.

While Alan had resigned himself to the fact that he could never outdo his brother, he takes great offense to being bested by a commoner girl, and in turn views her as a rival too.

After some interaction, Alan would eventually fall for the protagonist, charmed by her optimistic nature. As the game progresses, the protagonist would tell him that “You are perfect as you are, Alan.” This declaration, in turn, brought some measure of peace to his heart, and eventually Alan’s bitter sense of rivalry with Jeord would diminish as well.

In this scenario, Katarina Claes, all-time villainess, was nowhere to be seen. Although she did attempt to bully the protagonist due to her good grades (despite being a commoner), she did not have much screen time in this route at all.

In Katarina’s place was another rival: none other than Mary Hunt, daughter of Marquess Hunt. Although she respects Alan from the bottom of her heart and is somewhat jealous of the protagonist, she does not engage in any bullying or mean tricks.

Instead, Mary conducts herself as a noble lady with excellent upbringing, being skilled at social etiquette and dancing, unlike the commoner-born protagonist.

Although Jeord and Katarina hardly care about Mary’s existence, Alan is fond of her, although not in a romantic sense. Instead, he views her as a lovable little sister, and the two get along well.

In fact, even the endings of the game were different. Should the protagonist obtain a happy end and succeed in romancing Alan, Mary would give them her blessing, asking the protagonist to “take care of Prince Alan from here on out.” Her eyes, however, would be filled with tears, and her heart filled with sorrow.

In the bad end scenario, Mary and Alan live happily ever after instead, and that was that.

I thought intensely about the information I had just processed.

Why is it only Katarina that suffers?! Isn’t Mary a rival character too? You don’t see her desperately escaping Catastrophic Bad Ends!

To begin with, why is Mary such a gracious character even though she’s a rival?! Katarina is the only one who’s a villainess, apparently?

What were the staff behind this game thinking?! Why do they only subject Katarina and no one else to these terrible scenarios?! That’s just too sad of a character design! You people should try being reborn as Katarina Claes just once, let’s see how you like that!

And then there’s Alan! Why does he get a nice ending either way? Look at Jeord, or Keith! They end up becoming murderers and disappear into the wild! This is completely unreasonable! I’ll never forgive you, Fortune Lover staff!!

If I ever find my way back to my old world, I have a good mind to storm into their offices and tear them a new one!

...For now, I suppose I should put away my heated monologue.

I turned to the page once again. There was no mistaking it; “Mary Hunt” was my gentle, cute, and lovable friend. The Mary in the game of Fortune Lover, however, was the perfect image of a noble lady. This did not match the somewhat shirking and shy Mary that I currently knew.

Come to think of it, Mary and Katarina were not exactly friends in that setting. If anything, Katarina, who had a tendency to do as she pleased due to the Claes’ social standing, didn’t like Mary Hunt all that much.

To think that Mary was a rival character like me all along... Even so, I didn’t recall the word “Alan” ever leaving Mary’s lips. I could only assume that they had not yet met, given how their engagement was soon to be announced.

From what I could recall of the game, Mary had spoken of her encounter with Prince Alan during a confrontation between her and the protagonist. It went like this:

From a young age, Mary had been bullied due to the fact that she was born of a different mother than the rest of her sisters. Her older sisters would verbally abuse her at every opportunity. This would eventually lead to Mary losing all of her confidence, believing that she was as useless as her sisters claimed she was.

Prince Alan was the one who appeared before Mary in her despair, praising the plants that she had raised in her garden. “You’re amazing, Mary. Quite the green thumb you’ve got, no?”

A manner of speech, of course — it referred to individuals who had a particular talent at raising plants and other flora. Alan, suitably impressed by Mary’s garden, had praised her and told her that she was an amazing individual.

This would cause Mary to regain her lost confidence over time, and before she knew it, she was hopelessly in love with the prince. To become a woman that could one day stand at the prince’s side, Mary worked hard daily, and received nothing but praise when she had enrolled into the academy.

Katarina, on the other hand, spent all her time chasing after Prince Jeord, and as such lagged terribly behind on her academic and magic studies. She was nothing compared to Mary.

Ah, truly, Mary is indeed an amazing person. The amazing Mary with the green thumb! Prince Alan sure has a way with words.

...Wait a minute. Green...? Ah?! So this was where I had come across the phrase before!

Ah, yes. I finally remember. Right, right. It was the famous line that Prince Alan said to Mary... that she had a green thumb, that her hands were special, and all that.

...Hmm? Why do I somehow remember saying something similar to Mary? Uh-oh. This is bad!! Did I end up using Alan’s line before he had a chance to say it?!

How could this be? What was I thinking? I can’t just go about spouting famous lines like that before the rightful user says it!

What should I do?! With this, Prince Alan’s line would be a rehash! With as much impact as an already-brewed bag of tea leaves! Surely such a line would only have half as much meaning the second time it is used!

Ahh, Katarina Claes, you absolute fool! If only I’d noticed this sooner...

Although I did spend some time reflecting in my room by my lonesome, I eventually cheered up, under the justification that what was said could not be undone.

After all, Prince Alan is a pretty good prince in his own right! I’m sure he’ll be fine; it was just a single line. In fact, I’m sure he’ll come up with an even better line, one that would steal Mary’s heart! Yes, there was nothing wrong with me taking one of his lines! Nothing at all.

Having reached this irrefutable conclusion, I was overcome with relief. I packed up the archives and headed out of my room, making my way back to Keith, whom I had so unceremoniously left behind a short while ago.

★★★★★★★★★

Mary Hunt is my name. I was born as the fourth daughter of Marquess Hunt’s family. Although my mother was a beautiful and gentle person, she was not accepted in the Hunt family due to her low social standing. I, her daughter, was treated the same way.

Even so, Father really did love Mother. He loved her very, very much. With her unfortunate death, however, great changes crept into my life. With father being away from the manor most of the time for work and my mother now gone, I felt like I did not belong anywhere in this manor.

While they were cold and distant to me when mother still drew breath, now that she was gone, my older sisters wasted no time before viciously bullying me. They would hide my things, and sometimes even break them... or say terribly unpleasant things about me.

Examples of what they would say include: “Look at that red hair of yours! How filthy!”, “The stench of commoners oozes from your being!”, “You have absolutely no class!”, “Know your place!”, “You are nothing but a bringer of misfortune!”, and so on.

Assaulted with all these words day by day, I felt my heart crumble, and slowly started to fear interacting with others. This sense of fear permeated my being. Eventually, I started to believe what my sisters said — that I was no good, that I would never really amount to anything.

My only escape was the small garden in the courtyard. My heart only felt at ease while caring for the plants there.

One day, however, I met her — amidst a tea party that the Hunt family had organized. Although I was fearful and timid, she spoke openly and cheerfully to me. Her name was Katarina Claes. She had responded to my fearful greeting with a bright one of her own — it was as if she were a being from another world.

Unable to get over my fear of people, I left the tea party halfway through, having reached my mental limit. I quickly escaped to the small garden... but there, amidst the blooming flowers, was Katarina Claes. Having gallantly ventured into the garden, Katarina had nothing but praise for what she saw. She praised the garden I had been taking care of all this time.

I had not been praised in this manner by anyone — not since mother’s death. Caught unawares, I withdrew into myself once more. It was then that Katarina suddenly asked for a favor. She wanted me to have a look at the fields she tended to, on account of their ill condition.

Honestly speaking, I was surprised at hearing that the oldest daughter of a duke would tend to fields of any kind at all. But I couldn’t help but find Katarina’s sparkling eyes and plainly visible passion lovable.

One thing led to another, and soon I found myself headed to the Claes family manor to help Katarina with her fields. I dedicated myself to learning about crops as much as I could so that I would be better able to assist her.

Unlike me, Katarina was bold and optimistic — she was a most admirable person. With Katarina’s praise, I soon started regaining what confidence I had lost.

“You have quite the green thumb, Mary! Maybe even green hands too, ha! Yes! Green thumb, hand, you know! You’re a special and wonderful person!”

I had thought that I was nothing more than a weakling, a no-good girl who could never accomplish anything. However... Katarina said that I was a special, wonderful person.

I was really, really happy. I felt that now, more than ever, I had to become someone who was fit to stand next to Katarina. I had to be a worthy friend.

And so... I would bid farewell to the cowardly, weak Mary Hunt. One day, surely, I would be able to stand next to her proudly. Yes — I would work hard to become such a person.