1 - The First Day

I’m sure you’re aware of the fashion lately for villains who are the daughters of noble houses, or perhaps even the sons of noble houses?

They oppose the protagonists in otome games, BL games, and the like – the so-called Noble Villain. It appears that I, Ulysses Addinson, have been transmigrated into one of these games as a young villain from a noble house.

There is a smartphone game entitled “The Flower of the Royal Palace ~A Shrine Maiden Held by Roses of Seven Colors~” It is apparently an exquisitely uninteresting title, and the contents perfectly conventional.

The main character is Ambrose, a commoner who is informed that he is a shrine maiden by an oracle who brings him to the temple. The story is that he’s brought to the Royal Palace, where he meets seven seme, whom he then conquers. Incidentally, the home screen of the game shows one of the seme mid-conquer, and slaps on a line so sweet it almost vomits sugar.

In my previous life, my sister pestered me so much that I ended up playing it with her. I don’t dare comment on the fact that it’s an R-rated BL game. Or even the fact that the bad ending involved assault, imprisonment, and being drugged.

My sister eventually graduated from high school and got past the age restrictions, but before that time came, things such as self-respect and reason went by the wayside. Plus, whenever something bad would happen to poor Ambrose, my Happy Ending-obsessed sister would thrust her phone into my hands. I genuinely thought I was going to throw my phone when I saw Ambrose’s transformation into a vegetable after being raped, after witnessing that scene where he had his belly stuffed with a special fruit so that he could become pregnant even though he was a man. But I put up with it somehow.

For better or worse, it was thanks to that I was able to develop a tolerance for the erotic grotesque.

And the villain who made Ambrose’s eyes look like that was Ulysses. He’s completely outrageous. Well, I am him, but still.

Ulysses, the first prince’s fiancé, is jealous of Ambrose, whom the first prince falls in love with, and whom other famous, attractive men at the Royal Palace yearn for. Ulysses’s crimes against Ambrose are eventually brought to light, and he’s convicted. This is known as the Conviction Event.

Generally after such developments, you get exiled or something along those lines, but it was only three lines in the game, so I’m not entirely sure if I’ll have to actually suffer that fate.

I’d like to avoid this Conviction Event entirely, if possible. There is, however, one problem.

This event occurs seven days hence. To put it bluntly, I don’t have much time.

Why did I have to remember now? Surely, I could have remembered earlier. Don’t bully the Shrine Maiden, don’t go on wild spending sprees, don’t abuse people of low social standing.

Unfortunately though, I have stained my hands with every kind of evil deed. The event is a foregone conclusion. So on the pretext that there is in fact something I can do about it, even at this late hour, I’m going to do something, to at least prevent future developments from getting any worse.

I will recall all of my past deeds, anything which may become a stepping stone on the way to my goal. I don’t know how much I can do, as a villain, but I will do it.

“Does today’s meal suit your tastes, Lord Ulysses?”

The maid who’d brought the meal out questioned me, in a voice trembling with fear. The tone of clear terror was no doubt because she thought I’d punish her alongside the chef.

I was staring blankly at my food, knife and fork still in hand, recalling my previous life. Looking from the outside, it probably looked like I was taken aback at the taste of the food.

Until she spoke to me, I’d simply forgotten I was eating. I allayed her concerns and continued with my meal, and heard her sigh in relief.

After finishing my meal with the beautifully polished decorum of a high-ranking aristocrat, I called for my valet and returned to my chambers.

Being alone in the room, I decided that first, I should check myself in the mirror. Ulysses is a villain, but his visuals are so good that he’s become known among the game’s fans as a management favorite.

“Hmm. That’s certainly true.”

My appearance as reflected in the mirror definitely was what you could call an Adonis. I have silver hair so beautiful the moon goddess must have had hair like mine, and the color of my eyes is a fine bluish-purple that sparkles with a luster on par with any gemstone.

In fact, I would like to ask why they put this color scheme on a villain. Well, I would ask, but it’s the same face I’ve been staring at every day for 19 years. I’m not particularly impressed with it as it is. Certainly I’m a beauty you rarely see, but that’s obvious at a glance.

For all that I remembered my previous life, those memories had only been added to Ulysses’s, it hasn’t affected my thoughts or personality. In summary, my ephemerally attractive exterior is a convenience, and that’s as far as my feelings on the subject go.

“I don’t even know where to start,” I muttered, but there was no one in the room but me, so of course no one answered. I closed my eyes for a little bit, sorting through possible future actions in my head. Time wasn’t going to slow down just for me. The first thing to do was to secure a means of escape. And I needed to put an acceptable public face on my past behavior.

I called out to my valet, who should have been waiting outside the door.

“Tristan, come in here.”

“You called, Your Grace?”

“Call Brandon.”

“Lord Brandon, sir?”

Brandon was one of the main characters, one of the seven /seme/. Whenever Ulysses was going to buy something, he called Brandon, who was a merchant. The valet I gave the order to frowned, dissatisfied, no doubt thinking I was going to squander my money again.

Still, he meekly obeyed, because even when a mere servant does think to say something, I don’t bother listening. Well, that’s not entirely true, but still.

After all, you need legs to run away. And Brandon was going to prepare them for me. The associated costs surely would be high, but it wasn’t a waste as far as I was concerned.

So then, not that Brandon would make me wait, but I couldn’t afford to waste even a single spare moment. I had something to do while I waited for the merchant. I took a few sheets of good quality paper from the desk drawer to write a letter. Beginning with a polite greeting, I set down all the tedious formalities required of an aristocrat, and then finally got to the main issue.

It was obnoxiously circuitous, but this was the norm here, so I couldn’t do anything about it. I finished by listing several names, and then concluded the letter with still more polite words. Carefully folding the letter edge to edge, I applied a wax seal with an imprint of my family crest. That was one task completed.

And now for one more. Just in case, a letter to the first prince, who was at present my fiancé. Perhaps he’d throw it out without ever reading it, but if there was even a one percent chance it would work, I had to write it. I chose a warm paper, unlike the paper I’d used for the previous letter, and started stitching words together. As the ink dried, I gave the envelope a little extra attention, and then slid the letter in. As I finished my two letters, I heard a knock at the door, as if I’d set the timing myself.

“Lord Brandon has arrived.”

“Come in.”

I gave them permission to enter, and a man came in, accompanied by my valet. This was the merchant Brandon, his body draped in the gaudy fashions of the time.

Dark, olive-brown hair, and deep green eyes. He was tall too, and had a decent physique, although he wasn’t quite as good as my valet. His features were pleasantly arranged too, almost to the point where it almost made his flashy clothes look good.

I told my valet to instruct the maid to be ready to entertain. Accepting the order with brevity, he left the room with effortless poise.

I said my hellos to Brandon, and offered him a seat. Perhaps knowing that I don’t like stiff greetings, he took the seat I offered on the sofa opposite me without further ado.

“I am honored to hear from you. So what kind of thing might you be looking for this time?”

“I’d like you to prepare a horse and carriage.”

“Of course. What sort of design did you have in mind? I’d like to recommend a type of glasswork that’s been popular lately in other countries, it’s all stained with certain colored powders that are harmless to the human body.”

“Something plain. If you can get it, I’d like something rather worn.”

Interrupting Brandon’s sales pitch, I stated my business concisely. I had no need for luxurious decor or quality cloth. In fact, I preferred something inconspicuous, something that wouldn’t look out of place downtown.

I’m sure he doubted my words. The smile on his face remained fixed, but his eyes were tinged with certain questions.

It wasn’t unreasonable to be suspicious – there was no levelheaded reason why the normally attention-seeking Ulysses (me) would suddenly desire a sedate carriage, and a used one at that.

But I didn’t feel the need to tell him the real reason for my escape.

“I’m going to visit the border before long.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“I assume you know our land is blessed with good weather and fertile soil, and so we have abundant crops? And what’s more, we’re protected by a mountain range, so we don’t suffer much from demons. It’s what they call a natural stronghold.”

Brandon nodded quietly. “Of course.”

“And you know that since our territory is so rich, people frequently target us.”

“Indeed.”

The minimum number of words.

So minimal that it stirred up my conversation partner’s imagination.

Borders, blessed lands, inconspicuous carriages. If you put them all together, it couldn’t have been difficult to imagine what it was I was trying to say.

It was entirely a bluff. But the fact that neighboring countries were moving to invade our land had to have been true. Ambrose had occasionally set foot outside our territory in this game, and there was even a scene where he was attacked by someone from a neighboring country. It was an Event designed to raise Ambrose’s popularity with one of the seme who was a knight, and it was later learned that the assailant had been a spy.

Unusually, the incident had nothing to do with me, and what involvement I did have had never come to light because Ambrose didn’t think it was important.

By rights, I shouldn’t have any knowledge of the event.

“So then, this…”

“This…?”

I put a single small box on the desk. The finely-made, palm-sized box was engraved so delicately it was almost frightening to think of someone carving anything that size. I unfastened a small key that had been dangling around my neck and inserted the key into the metal lock. There was a small clink noise, and when I opened the box, a single gemstone lay within.

“Is that- a rare spirit stone?”

A spirit stone.

Indeed, there is no magic in the world of this game, but there were fantasy elements, such as demons and spirits. Or an oracle who hands down orders about shrine maidens.

And spirit stones, which, as the name suggests, are stones in which rest the souls of the departed.

Spirit stones are said to bestow good fortune, and protection when their owner falls into crisis. I don’t know if that’s actually true or not. In the game, I was convicted while holding this exact spirit stone in my hand, so it’s possible that as the game’s villain, I’m the only one exempt from its effects.

At the moment, it was nothing more than a useless bauble, something pretty to look at.

“I’d like to leave this with you, while you prepare the carriage.”

“Excuse me!?”

As had been remarked earlier, spirit stones are rare. In other words, based on that alone, they are expensive. Even if you were unlucky, you could end up with enough to build a castle. No doubt Brandon was doubting my sanity, to leave this with him.

“Listen, I understand why you might want to buy a carriage. Raggedy carriages from that area are things that you can buy on a whim, Lord Ulysses, and easily. But why would you leave something like this with me, it’s practically a national treasure?”

Brandon’s expression was so filled with confusion there didn’t seem to be room for a smile.

“Ten thousand to one, if it becomes known that I know of the neighboring country’s movements, that’ll be the end of you too. I’m not saying anything will happen. Just that I’m lending it to you. Think of it as collateral.”

“You don’t need collateral.”

“That look says you can’t consent. That’s fine then. Perhaps you can do me a little favor while we’re here?”

“I— Is that it, then? Just like that?”

“Sure, I leave it to you.”

It’s not gold that merchants consider most valuable.

It’s “reputation.”

Without a good reputation, sales won’t grow, and you run into problems before you can even make a profit. Which was exactly why leaving the spirit stone with him at this juncture was proof of my faith in his “reputation.” Giving me that which I most wanted, when the only advantage was to me, would only make him uncomfortable. But his merchant blood wouldn’t allow him to pass on a transaction.

Brandon, you are an indispensable part of my successful escape. You won’t foul up on me, will you?

“Ah, understood. I’ll accept this then, and I shall absolutely return it!”

“Naturally. So then, this carriage, when can I expect it?”

“In three days’ time, without fail.”

Best of all, I got an encouraging reply.

I smiled, and then placed the box in Brandon’s hand.

“I’m relying on you, Brandon.”

“Ah, no need to say it. I’m a merchant after all.”

Brandon’s cheeks stained a faint red, and we stood up, the conversation over.

Just as we approached the door, the maid called out – she’d prepared some tea.

But Brandon had a major role to play, namely preparing my carriage. I couldn’t have him spending leisurely hours at tea time.

I let her know that Brandon was on his way home, and told her to see him off. Sadly, I’d have to enjoy this delicious tea by myself.

My valet came into the room, changing places with Brandon, and I had him serve the tea instead. The aroma of what were called in my previous life jasmine and earl grey were so brilliant, and gentle in the mouth. It was top class too, so of course it tasted good.

“Lord Ulysses.”

“Hmm?”

“What was it you discussed with him?”

It was probably a deserved question. I’d specifically ordered my servants that I didn’t want my conversation with Brandon to be interrupted. Any servant well-versed in the affairs of this mansion would be suspicious of how I managed to acquire information on neighboring countries which I ought to know nothing about. In which case, I was in trouble.

“Just some small talk. Did you know, apparently glasswork is all the rage these days?”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. But it would likely convince the servants that I’d called Brandon over this time in order to procure some glasswork. They’d never dig deeper into the story.

Splendid!

So then, having enjoyed my tea, I now had to make my next move. I took out the two letters I wrote earlier and suddenly handed them over to my valet. His suspicious expression turned to astonishment the instant he saw the addresses.

“Letters to the King and the First Prince?”

“Indeed. And while you’re at it, gather all the servants in the hall.”

His stare loudly pestered me about what I was scheming, but I ignored him. Besides, I was a duke and the first prince’s fiancé. There was nothing strange about sending him a letter. Plus, there was that thing in seven days.

“What might your intention be once I gather the servants?”

“Hm, you’re getting noisy. Are you arguing with me?”

“Nothing of the kind, sir, I’m merely curious. I do humbly apologize if I’ve displeased your lordship.”

His attitude could have been interpreted as not entirely civil, but I allowed him that.

He’d been a slave originally, and nine years earlier I’d taken an interest in him and bought him. He’d been all but dead, a worn-out rag of a person, and I’d thought it hilarious. I wanted to see how much I could polish him as a human being.

Former slaves weren’t generally fit to be attendants in a duke’s household, and he wasn’t necessarily recognized as such. It wasn’t much more than an imitation of a valet. When my father had been alive, he’d scowled at this game of pretend, not bothering to hide his disgust. He was far more obsessed with status than I ever was, someone who would never deign to treat a slave as a human being. He was my parent, but he was the worst. Although, can I even say he was my parent now?

His way of thinking isn’t unusual among aristocrats. There is a natural difference in the valuation of life. Could you say the king who represents this country is the same as someone living in a slum, who struggles to find even that day’s meal?

Anyone who dares say such a thing will swiftly have to say farewell to their neck for the crime of treason. This is what I mean when I refer to asking after the value of a life. Unlike the Japan of my previous life, this world has nothing less than a class system, and there’s nothing to be done about it.

“You can deliver those later. Come to the hall first.”

I had apparently conveyed that I had no intention of explaining. My valet nodded reluctantly, and left the room ahead of me to go gather up the servants.

So then, I had yet another task ahead of me.

Our lives may be valued differently, but I do fully understand that they have feelings as human beings.

“So then ladies and gentlemen. I have only one reason for calling you here. I shall discuss your future disposition.”

The servants started making a fuss. I heard muttering about the morning’s meal, and that incident with the flower vase the other day, but those things didn’t have much to do with it now. Well, it didn’t have nothing to do with it, but I let it be for the time being.

“Tristan, here.”

My valet was standing just behind and beside me, and I called him out and handed him a letter that I’d had tucked away in my inside suit pocket.

“This is…”

The national flower was imprinted on the seal. What it meant was that this was a letter from the king himself. It was a royal command. At my prompting, my valet took the letter from the envelope and his eyes flew open at what had been written there.

To summarize the contents, I was to discover and cultivate appropriate personnel to serve at the royal palace. That was the matter the letter was concerned with, put in simple terms. I had been so ordered approximately four years prior, when my father passed away and I inherited the family estate.

The servants who listed to these words kicked up an even larger fuss.

“Silence.”

The hall fell completely quiet.

“As the letter says, I was under orders from His Majesty to test whether your dignity, ability, and of course patience, were appropriate for service in the royal palace.”

This time, the servants only looked at each other, but didn’t make a noise. My servants were always quick to understand, honestly it was splendid. I absentmindedly smiled to myself, but outwardly, I only nodded with a humble expression.

“In view of your demeanor in your duties, I have decided at this time to recommend several of you.”

“Lord Ulysses, would you please forgive an interruption?”

As I expected, my valet spoke up. Both I and my servants turned to look at him. He spoke his doubts without wavering.

“Was this the letter you gave me a moment ago?”

“Indeed, the names of the persons I’m recommending are written there.”

I could feel the servants’ excitement at my words. From their perspective, there was no greater windfall. Service at the royal palace was a jewel among jewels. It was a dream that would never be realized serving a mere noble.

“You mean the way you’ve always acted…”

A valet who can say aloud exactly what they are thinking is a talented valet indeed. He’d no doubt intended to say the words to himself, and they unintentionally spilled out of him, but everyone in the hall turned to him. They hadn’t necessarily all heard what he’d muttered, but they turned nonetheless.

After all, this was a valet’s duty, too. I deliberately clapped my hands to get their gazes back to me.

“Four years have passed since I inherited this mansion. Having to serve someone as young and wet behind the ears as I was must have been a never ending litany of trouble. I hesitate to say this aloud, but I have sent a bit of a gift to each of your homes. I’m dismissing you after today, I hope you will go home and take a well-deserved rest.”

I called it a gift, but really, I’d only asked Brandon to send along some of my personal belongings, gems and things. They were, however, luxury items out of reach for servants. I’m sure their families were surprised to be suddenly sent such things. Assuming they were familiar with my bad name, they may have even misunderstood, thinking I sent them the items in order to accuse them of being thieves. It did sound fun, but it wasn’t something I had time for now. Those servants who understood the situation “correctly” were more likely to be convinced by a direct explanation.

“So then, that was all I wanted to say. Let’s all get back to our work.”

This way, they were less likely to be involved in the conviction event seven days hence. I am a kind person, so I intended to use my influence to make sure innocent bystanders didn’t get wrapped up in it.

The servants returned to their respective places, the excitement still evident on their faces. Only my valet and I remained in the hall.

“Lord Ulysses.”

“Ah, Tristan. You can take the letter I mentioned earlier with you, it’s alright.”

No doubt my valet was confused as to how best to handle Ulysses (me), who had faithfully carried out the king’s order all while bearing the shame of being seen as a cruel lord who oppressed his own servants.

I am a villain start to finish, but I was never that incautious. Of course I had a reason for my evil deeds properly prepared.

The servants I’d punished were the ones who’d stolen presents from my “beloved” fiancé, or those who did their work with a frivolous attitude. I’d chosen people for whom punishment was inevitable. Perhaps my discipline was rather severe, but servants who attended a duke’s household mustn’t let up for even an instant. Well, I did occasionally deliberately choose someone likely to act up simply because I felt like punishing someone, but still.

Having an excuse was important.

My valet looked distressed, like he wanted to say something, but he said nothing further. He headed for the stables, letter in hand, to obediently carry out the orders I’d given.

I hoped the seeds I’d sewn would sprout well.