5 - The Fifth Day

The chill of cold water dripping onto my forehead brought me suddenly back to consciousness. My eyes were so dry everything looked hazy, but I blinked repeatedly and everything finally cleared. Iron bars, and walls of cold stone. The rope that tied my hands behind my back was digging into my wrists, and it kind of hurt.

The ground where I was laid out was also stone, and it must have been sleeping on it without any further protection that made my body so sore.

It seemed there were others besides me held in captivity here, for I could hear their sobs from every direction. Probably the residents of The Fifth District who were kidnapped this time around.

I rolled over, still bound, and looked around, trying to get a handle on the situation.

My memory cut off right when I was trying to protect Ambrose as he was being attacked from behind, so I assumed I’d been struck in his place. At the time, only the shock of the impact had made it through to me, but I must have been hit pretty hard, because I felt a sharp pain on the back of my head now.

I was used to causing others pain, not suffering it myself.

“How did it end up like this.”

Thinking with my head pounding like this was just annoying, I looked around for Ambrose, and suddenly heard his voice – it seemed he was closer than I’d expected. His hands were tied behind his back too, and although his face was scratched up, it didn’t look like he’d suffered any major injuries.

I softly closed my eyelids, and moaned a bit like I’d just woken up.

“Ugh…”

“Ulysses, you’re awake! Thank God.”

His words apparently came from the heart. His expression softened in relief and his eyes filled with tears. Maybe this was the potential of a protagonist, but I couldn’t believe he could still take this attitude with the villain who’d tormented him. I knew he was good-natured, but this was a bit beyond kindly.

“I’m sorry, this is all because you protected me. Your head was bleeding so much, I was afraid you were going to die without ever even waking up.”

The sight of him crying was touching. If I was a seme , the sight of him like this would undoubtedly cause me to fall.

Ambrose was pure and straightforward, perfect for a protagonist. You might wonder what he was doing stealing a person’s fiancé, but really he was just ignorant. Unlike aristocrats, commoners tended to think free love was the natural state of things, and if the person he liked, even a prince, liked him back, his focus would be on the idea that they should date.

He seemed to think that marrying someone based on one’s material interests was fruitless.

Maybe it would have been better if I’d been sweet and charming like Ambrose, but the prince’s partner was the villain. I did put on a pretty big act of being sweet and innocent, but given Ambrose’s favorability rating with him, my act hadn’t been popular with the first prince.

I couldn’t marry whomever I wanted, and if his partner was a man, he couldn’t produce any children. Political interests were all there were. For me, obtaining money and status through a marriage to the first prince was itself of value. But to him, I was no doubt just some parasite, tied down to my social status, and not even able to marry freely.

And so with all that going on in the background, the prince met Ambrose, free of feeling, and deeply cute.

He must have thought Ambrose a dream. A dream of marrying a partner who loved you with no regard for your social rank. And so, he ended up hoping. Hoping that the one who ought to be beside him when he became king was Ambrose.

Hoping that it wouldn’t be an issue to change his male marriage partner from me to Ambrose. It made me want to ask what the point of a political marriage was in the first place, but the fact that the whole thing was overlooked seemed to prove my hypothesis correct.

“Lord Ambrose, you’re here? Where the hell…”

“I’m not sure of all the details, but we’ve been abducted. According to what I overheard on the way here, we’re to be sold as slaves in the neighboring country.”

Ambrose answered, his small frame shivering with fright.

His words made me frown.

The in-game event only described Ambrose being kidnapped and attacked, it didn’t dig into the situation’s background.

Officially speaking, neither this country, nor any neighboring country, kept careful tabs on slaves. The bandits had probably kidnapped the people of The Fifth District because they weren’t treated as citizens, since they didn’t pay taxes. It wasn’t out of the question to turn those without a country into slaves.

But Ambrose was an official citizen, they couldn’t sell him to any neighboring country, to say nothing of me, an aristocrat.

However, that was only if we could prove our story. We’d been kidnapped with nothing on us but the clothes on our backs, we had no way of proving who we were. Not to mention the fact that I was dressed like this in order to fit in in The Fifth District.

“What do we do, we’re going to end up slaves like this.”

No doubt in Ambrose’s head, he’d be subjected to unjust treatment were he demoted to slave.

His face drained of blood and his expression was grim.

“Stay calm, surely your guards will get help.”

Ambrose’s expression suddenly brightened at discovering a shred of hope in my words, but the tears quickly returned. I imagine he was remembering how those guards had looked, face down on the ground and sliced through with swords.

All of the guards who’d fallen to the ground had suffered grave injuries. I didn’t know how many of them were still alive, but if I didn’t return, Cedrick and Douglas should be good enough to take action without delay.

Still, without any clues as to where we’d gone, it might take some time to figure out where we were.

If we did end up shipped off to neighboring countries before they could find us, there’d be no conviction event.

In Ambrose’s case, if he was demoted to slave, there was at least a chance that the first prince would use his political power to find him again. But that was only for Ambrose. I doubted the first prince would go out of his way to look for me. I had to buy some time for help to arrive, no matter what I had to do to get it.

“You seem quite calm, Ulysses. Aren’t you afraid?”

“I’d already been abducted a couple of times by the time I was 10. Although of course, this is the first time I’ve been kidnapped by bandits.”

“Oh wow, is that right. The life of a nobleman is a hard one.”

It wasn’t an issue that could be settled with just that one phrase, but his voice was shaking so much, and perhaps I was desperate to collect myself.

I smiled as calmly as I could, trying to reassure him.

“I’ve been kidnapped before, and I came out of it safely. I’m sure help will arrive soon this time too.”

Ambrose laughed nervously. “That’s reassuring to hear you say. You’re right. As you say, surely help will arrive soon.”

His expression softened.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I’m glad I’m not alone. I think if it was just me, I’d be scared and awfully upset.”

“Yeah, it’s thanks to you, Lord Ambrose, that I can stay calm.”

“What? I’m not reliable at all though.”

“Well, no, it’s not that you’re reliable–”

As I was talking with Ambrose, suddenly the door beyond the iron bars opened. Several men came in, their feet shuffling along the stone.

They were all dirty, and definitely looked like bandits. They were uniformly of large builds. No wonder the Ambrose in the game couldn’t resist them.

One among them was particularly brawny.

Gordon, head bandit.

Gordon was one of the bandits, but he was also one of the seme . It was hard to tell because of the filthy clothes he was wearing, but his face was well-proportioned, if a bit rustic. Combined with that physique, he’d cut quite the fine figure if he cleaned up, probably have quite the dangerous sex appeal.

In the world of this game, the story unfolds on the stage of the royal palace, as the title says, “Flowers of the Royal Palace ~A Shrine Maiden Held by Roses of Seven Colors~”.

But Gordon’s route is special, compared to the routes of the other seme . It’s the only route where Ambrose is evil.

He has almost no interactions with Erik in that route, and proportionally, my role is incredibly small, and naturally I have no opportunity to antagonize Ambrose.

The story opens with the gang rape by the bandits, and Ambrose falls to the very pits of despair.

But he’s a virtuous person at his core, so he can’t hate them, and eventually is moved to kindness. As the story progresses, he’s touched by the darkness and pain in Gordon’s heart, and begins to think he’d like to support the bandit.

In the end, he faces off squarely against Erik and Douglas and the whole lot.

His actions are so different from the other routes, that there was a violent round-the-clock debate among the fans, with some fans in the Misunderstood Ambrose camp, and others in the Delicious Fall From Grace camp.

I had thought of Ambrose as a perfectly orthodox protagonist too, so I was pretty surprised when I first saw the Dark Gordon route too.

But the Ambrose with me now was pushing ahead with the First Prince Erik route. If he wasn’t on the Gordon route, the bandit was merely a Bad Guy. Nothing more than spice to heat up the story.

“Boss, these two were from today’s crop! What do we do with ’em, they’re both top quality.”

“Hm, those aren’t faces you see on every slum baby, are they?”

“Heheh, so true. All those idiots hanging around in one place, it was like an all-you-can-eat buffet today.”

Ambrose’s shoulders jumped at the bandit’s words. There was only one reason everyone in the slums had been gathered there. Realizing that, Ambrose went almost pitifully pale.

“Yeah yeah, they were all gathered around this guy.”

“Oh yeah?”

The bandit pointed towards us, and Gordon shrewdly lifted one eyebrow.

“Oi, bring that guy over here.”

Gordon’s words caused nearby voices to murmur in fear.

A bandit with menial looks who seemed to be a grunt opened the bars with a key and came inside. He was relatively slender, compared to the other massively-built bandits, and his back was hunched over.

“You, come here.”

Ambrose’s shoulders jumped at being called like that, and his breath got rough from fear. Perhaps impatient with Ambrose, who showed no signs of moving, the bandit came to us, his feet making loud noises on the stone.

Ambrose shrieked. “No!”

He leaned back as the man stretched out his hand, but with his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t put up much resistance.

The bandit easily picked him up.

Gordon stared hard at him, as the bandit put Ambrose down in front of him, and then suddenly averted his eyes like he’d lost interest.

“Hmm, I thought for sure you were some moody aristocrat devoting yourself to philanthropy, but I must have been imagining things. Can’t be an aristocrat looking like that.”

“Hey Boss, what are you gonna do with him? Can we all have a round with him?”

“Do what you like, but don’t break him.”

The men got excited at Gordon’s answer. I rushed to get to Ambrose first, but my small frame was pushed to the hard ground.

Ambrose’s screams echoed off the walls.

Gordon didn’t seem to be interested, and he stepped away almost as soon as it had begun, roaring an order at a nearby bandit to put a gag on Ambrose.

One bandit, who’s lower body was boiling over, stretched his hand out towards Ambrose’s shirt with marked excitement and ripped the thing to shreds.

Ambrose let out an unvoiced scream, and put up more resistance than I thought a person could with their hands tied behind their back.

In response to this unexpected resistance, one of the men looming over him kicked him in the cheek.

“Stop!!” I shouted, seeing that my time had come, and I flung myself against the iron bars. Luckily for me, it made quite the loud clatter. I didn’t imagine these guys would be stopped by merely asking politely.

My shoulder hurt where it hit against the bars, but it was worth it. The men all froze.

“Don’t touch him. Take me instead.”

They laughed in my face. “You?”

“You hear him, Boss? What do you think?”

The bandits’ reaction was about fifty-fifty. Some scoffed at me, some were just confused. Gordon’s reaction didn’t fall into either camp. Instead he stared hard at me, trying to see my true intentions.

“If that’s what he wants. Yeah alright, bring him here.”

The man once again opened the bars with the key and came in. Before he could reach his hand out to me, I stood up and walked out under my own power. He was surprised for a moment at my actions, but suddenly reached out for me again.

“Oi, who told you you could move.”

“Don’t touch me so casually.”

The man’s hand froze.

I glanced at him, consciously trying to give as haughty and aristocratic an impression as I could.

“ I am Ulysses Addinson. I am a Duke, and the head of a family that is quite prominent in this country. I shall not suffer to be touched by someone of your particular class.”

” ‘Scuse me? What the hell crap are you talking about!”

“Oi, stop!”

“Boss!?”

According to plan, Gordon looked interested, and the man who’d been about to throw a punch at me held his fist.

“Bring him over here, now.”

The glint in Gordon’s eyes was as sharp as a newly honed blade. The man’s face went pale, and he urged me towards Gordon while trying not to actually touch me.

Now that we were face to face again, I realized that not only was he the biggest built of the seme , but he was quite a bit taller than me, too. Gordon grabbed my chin with a hand big enough to match his physique, and forcefully turned my face up towards him.

His presumptuous gaze poured down over my face, trying to ascertain the truth. I’m sure my expression was trying to twist from the pain in the back of my head, but somehow I managed to endure it.

“It’s hard to tell all covered in blood like this, but that does look like an aristocratic face.”

Gordon’s one eyebrow raised again, it must have been his quirk. Gordon released my chin and seemed to be giving thinking a try for a moment.

“It is true you’ve got nice skin for a slum baby, and you’re about as thin as a twig. Can’t think of any reason why people there would hang out with some noble though. … So, guess we can’t turn you into product, can we.”

Gordon muttered, and made me kneel at his feet. Guessing his intention, I was the one to scowl this time.

“You, be my woman, right here.”

In place of a reply, I brought my face closer to Gordon’s hips.

Gordon suddenly let a smile onto his face, and ordered the other bandits to put some distance between themselves and Ambrose.

Ambrose, hidden behind all those giant men, finally came into view again. I’m sure he didn’t understand what I was doing.

His eyes trembled in confusion. Our gazes met briefly, but I was the one who looked away first.

“I like a guy who can read the situation. Put it in your mouth.”

Since my hands were still tied behind my back, I moved his pants and underwear out of the way with my mouth. I’d never ever even kissed anyone before, so of course I’d never put anyone’s thing in my mouth.

Now that it was exposed, I realized it was clearly larger than a normal person’s, even if I didn’t have anything to compare it to.

I steeled myself, and opened my mouth wide.

“Yeah, nice. Aristocrats always have such a pretty face. Too bad it’s covered in all that blood.”

I gagged.

“It’d be even better if you were blonde, huh.”

He grabbed the back of my head, which was still pounding, and a little moan leaked from his lips. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, my mouth was full, so I couldn’t let out an undignified scream, but tears streamed from my eyes in pain, quite against my will.

“What was it, 20 years ago? Some damn noble made off with my woman. What a strange woman. She ordered her own kidnapping, got thieves like us to do it. Amazing blonde, stunning to look at.”

He must have been remembering something, because when I glanced up to check, Gordon was staring off into the distance.

“Aristocrats seem to get whatever they want, but what they really want, they can’t have. It’s hard, you know.”

The reason Gordon confronts the palace in the game.

They stole the woman he loved. That was another reason Gordon’s route was controversial, the question of how much NL was acceptable in a BL game.

When he was young, Gordon met and fell in love with an aristocrat’s daughter. But the bandits were chased to extinction by royal knights who were searching for the young woman on royal orders, and the knights ended up taking the woman back with them.

Gordon, who managed to survive even though he was seriously ill and on the verge of death, eventually vowed to get revenge on the royal family.

“Alright, it’s about time for me to cum.”

He applied still more force to the back of my head, and forced the back of my throat open.

The next instant, my throat restricted in response to the foreign object, and a hot, gooey liquid flowed in.

I choked and coughed.

“A pretty face really is nice, that crying gets me all hot.”

Gordon gazed at me choking with a satisfied look on his face, and brushed his bangs up out of his face.

— A widow’s peak.

20 years ago.

A stunning blonde.

And the shape of that hairline.

The conditions were more than met.

As I was immersed in my thoughts, Gordon’s hand gently stroked my head like he was praising a clever dog.

“Hey, why did you put yourself in his place?”

“That, it was–”

“Especially if you’re an aristocrat. I can’t imagine why an aristocrat would protect a commoner. I mean, I wouldn’t wonder if you were the kind of person with a virtuous soul who tried to help the weak, even in a situation like this.”

There was only one reason I helped Ambrose.

I turned my gaze to Ambrose, who was staring dumbfounded at me, tears streaming down his cheeks, and smiled an ephemeral smile.

“I’m looking after the person I love.”

Ambrose’s eyes flew open. The gag blocked any words, but his eyes spoke volumes.

“What? That’s awfully brave.”

Gordon laughed deep in this throat, mocking me, and pushed me to the ground.

A sadistic light flashed in his eyes, and he put both hands to the shirt I was wearing and tore it off. Smooth white skin, untouched by the sun, was revealed to his hungry eyes.

I heard him gulp.

Dry palms stroked my abdomen, reached down towards my legs. He untied the rope binding my waist, and the moment seemed to hang in the air.

— Suddenly the door slammed open.

“Lord Ulysses!!”

My valet’s voice echoed off the stone interior.

“Tristan!”

Fully armed royal knights streamed in behind him.

When his eyes found me, they flashed with murderous intent, and he yanked out the blade tied around his waist. Gordon, surprised at the sudden attack, was late to respond to my valet’s attack.

“Don’t kill him!!” I screamed, still laying on the ground.

My valet’s sword pierced Gordon’s shoulder. I was still right under him, so blood spilled onto my face. I closed my eyes tight, trying to prevent blood from getting in them, but then I could feel the chaos of the room even more.

I heard Gordon moan for a moment, but he must have fainted, because eventually he went quiet.

“Lord Ulysses, thank god I made it in time.”

A warm hand wrapped around my back and undid the ropes that had stolen my freedom from me. My valet leaned over me, and wiped off the blood that was clinging to my face.

“My valet is better than any other, I had faith you’d come for me.”

Now that I was relaxing, I could feel the pain in my head quite distinctly. It must have showed on my face too, because my valet’s expression got grim.

“Were you hurt? I knew I shouldn’t have let him live.”

“Don’t show your fangs so carelessly, you idiot. If he dies, it’ll only cause me trouble, this is the right way.”

“Is that so?”

His face said clearly that he was unconvinced, but even so, it would be a problem for me if Gordon died. He might be an important witness in the future.

I wondered how the king and queen would respond when they realized that the man who was supposed to have been killed was still alive.

“Let’s get back to our mansion.”

“Yes, we need to have you treated right away.”

Perhaps I had lost too much blood after all, but my vision was gradually going dark. I heard someone call my name, but I gently closed my eyes and let my valet take care of me.