Lecil woke with a cough. An aching chest and a sore throat.
She felt like she got run over and then fell off a cliff. Groaning, she clutched at her chest. An expression of pain subtly changed into one of concern and confusion as she threw off the covers and saw her torn dress.
"What…"
It came out as a wheeze. She ran a hand through her long black hair. It flowed through her fingers as she examined it.
Furthermore, as she looked around the room her gaze became more clear. Her hands shook as she remembered. Jumping off the bed, stumbling, Lecil ran over to her dresser.
In the mirror was her reflection—a raven-haired beauty with fair, pale skin. Bedhead, still wearing makeup. Her lipstick smudged a bit. A horrid black bruise ringed her neck.
Her breathing quickened as more memories came back in a cascade.
"No."
She looked into her dark eyes with specks of purple color.
"No, no, no."
She clutched at her hair.
"No! Please…"
Slamming her hands on the dresser, she couldn't bring herself to look back up. Tears threatened her. They won out and started to fall on the polished wood. Her voice squeaked.
"I didn't ask for this."
Her knees fell under herself as she remembered dying.
Dying from a rope around her neck.
"Why am I alive?"
Dying in an car accident after saving a child.
"Why am I here?"
She clutched at her chest, trying to wrinkle the torn dress but unable to find enough thread. She cried to herself.
"Is my life just a game to you? What was it worth? Just a game. I'm just a character in an accursed video game?"
Pinching herself, Lecil winced as she felt the pain. Rolling up her sleeves, she saw the bruises and the horizontal slashes on her wrists.
"You made me do this? To myself? You made my life a living hell. Every. Single. Day. For what! For background? To create a pitiful character in your stupid romance game?"
Celia, a normal girl from Earth, spoke to her reflection.
"No of us knew. We all played without knowing. I didn't know. I swear. I didn't. This shouldn't be real. This can't be happening. I died! I remember."
"I died too. I hung myself. All because of your stupid game."
"What a cliche. I saved a random child. Now, I'm stuck in this trashy game."
Lecil and Celia overlapped and mixed and blurred. Neither could tell where one started and the other began. The knowledge of a different world burdened Lecil. Her entire life was the plot of a romance game with nothing but bad endings and death.
Her brothers, the princes, blamed her for their mother's death. Her sister, the spoiled one, wasn't any better behind her childish charade. The King didn't even seem to care. No one in the palace respected Lecil and treated her like garbage. The Ghost Princess.
The memory of a caring father and mother who sent Celia off to college. Studying hard for exams. Laughing with friends. Chatting about games. It wasn't perfect, but it was her life, dammit!
A blessed life and a cursed one.
Chained to fate.
*Knock-Knock*
"Princess?"
"OUT!"
The door slammed shut with a yelp as a chair impacted the sturdy frame. Seething, shadows wrapped around her as she stared into her reflection. In a monumental moment of shared conviction, two souls spat the same curse.
"Screw your stupid game."
Lecil changed out of the torn clothes herself and hid them. She dressed herself in nightclothes before she allowed anyone else to enter. It didn't matter anyway. The bruises along her arms and her neck were still visible. It could never have gone unnoticed in the royal palace.
A maid entered and brought breakfast.
Lecil didn't even look her way.
"Leave it."
"Yes, princess."
Whoever she was, she was smart enough to obey the order. The maid left without another word, waiting just beyond the door for when she was needed.
Lecil took a pen and grabbed some paper, jotting down a few notes.
According to Celia's memories, they were stuck in a video game.
A romance game simply titled: "Renegade."
The game was targeted towards women, but also attracted challenge seekers and hardcore gamers. It was notorious for being unbeatable. The main character was Lecil: A princess who was secretly born to a mother other than the queen. Only those among the royal family knew. Everyone else had been silenced.
The objective of the game was to reach a happy ending by whatever means possible. It was a multiple-choice game, but also had options for roaming and time-sensitive events or quests.
The crux of the matter was that The First Princess was irrationally detested by everyone.
The day before the game starts, Lecil is pushed down the stairs by her two-faced sister. Her brothers simply walked by without caring, and the King ignored the bruises and abuse, choosing to ignore her existence entirely. The night before, Lecil tries to end it all but is stopped by the young duke Sallow. Instead of letting her die, he let her live after having fun with her.
The entire game was filled with pit traps, spanning over years of time.
Except no one ever lives past a few months. And now, I have to live every single day of it.
Lecil was in constant danger. Bad Endings were around every corner and came in all varieties.
Poisoned by the staff. Pushed off her balcony. An accidental stabbing. Assassination. Magical explosions. Drowning. She was publically executed if she made any noise or acted out in any way.
Oh, and Lecil also somehow had to save the kingdom from war and being butchered along with her entire family.
A total shit game.
"Seriously. Fuck this game."
Why did Celia even play it? To torture herself? She never even got past the damn tutorial.
The only way to save herself was to romance one or more of the main characters. Of course, there was a neutral path, too. It was suggested that a peaceful family ending was the best-case scenario, given the horrific outcomes of the other routes.
Ideals aside, her three main options were the young dukes.
Duke Raiden, the gallant war hero.
Duke Astor, the diplomat and merchant.
And Duke Sallow, the absolute villain.
Irene was a maid. A personal attendant to the first princess.
It wasn't an overly demanding job. The only thing she hated was having to serve someone who wasn't even a true member of the royal family. Anyone who talked about it was killed, but many of the staff knew. Many of them were choosing sides among the successors, and the best way to align yourself with their camp was to interact with the Ghost Princess.
For example: Serving stale bread or cold soup, placing salt in her tea, prolonging the time it took to dress the princess, and delaying her so that she was late for dinner, etc.
Small deeds were always noticed, and anything more was not their place.
Her thoughts panicked and dulled as a regal man stomped his way towards her.
Irene bowed to Prince Tristan. He didn't even glance at her as he kicked in the doors to the princess' bedroom.
[ Game Start ]
"Get out-"
The words got caught in her throat. Bewildered by her inability to speak, she spun around to glare at whoever barged in.
Prince Tristan didn't break stride with his scowl screaming of ill intent. He was somehow in perfect condition first thing in the morning, and his hair was immaculate. For how attractive he should have been, it was all ruined by his scornful face.
Lecil noticed a floating icon above his head; squinting her eyes a bit, she read.
Tristan: -5%
Trash game; that shouldn't be possible!
But there it was. It was already considered an unavoidable death to encounter someone with 0%.
"There you are. Why were you late for dinner? None of us could speak until you arrived!"
Lecil stared down her eldest brother. Part of the early game mechanics rendered her unable to speak in front of significant characters. Her only choice was to wait for a dialogue prompt.
"Well? Do you have an answer, or do I have to pry it out!?"
One of his hands moved to grip the rapier at his waist. Heavens knew how he got away with slaying his sister over something so trivial, but he would do it regardless. The game never went past her death, so anyone who killed her would never think about the consequences.
Her first dialogue choices appeared. The wrong one would kill her.
[1. I am sorry, brother.]
[2. How dare you speak to me like that!]
[3. I was trying to cover all the bruises.]
Lecil wanted to roll her eyes and curse the inane choices. When she picked her answer, it flowed out of her unbidden.
"I was trying to cover all the bruises."
Lecil tilted her head up. An offering to his sword. A dark bruise snaked around her neck.
One Hail Mary wasn't enough to dodge a -5% affections score, because a second prompt showed up immediately.
[1. This was your doing, don't you remember?]
[2. It would have brought shame to the family.]
[3. Forgive me.]
"It would have brought shame to the family."
Irene, peeking in, widened her eyes in surprise. Tristan's only narrowed.
"You didn't have that last night, only the marks on your arms."
He would know. One of them fit his hand.
[1. What is one more bruise among many, brother?]
[2. I am good at hiding things.]
[3. Picking a suitably dark dress took time.]
This one was trickier. Back when this was just a game, Celia's first instinct had been to choose the second option, thinking that Tristan would appreciate that she was able and willing to hide his dirty deeds. Instead, he took it at face value and said something along the lines of "How can I trust a sister who lies".
Total bull, ask anyone. The game developers didn't make it logical as much as they made it difficult to survive.
"Picking a suitably dark dress took time."
The only reason this option was the correct answer was because of the maid's presence. Tristan turned to Irene, who was watching from the doorway.
"How could the maid dress you when she was preparing your food?"
He moved over to the cart where the "food" lay untouched—a piece of stale, discolored bread and a plate of soup that was actually just dirty water.
"You aren't even grateful enough to eat what is given to you."
With a casual motion, the cart tipped over. Liquid spilled on the floor and the stale bread tumbled near her feet. The maid yelped at the commotion.
Lecil gritted her teeth and tilted her head down so Tristan couldn't see her murderous eyes and use it as an excuse to gut her.
What did I do to deserve this sort of treatment?What possessed Tristan to come so early in the morning torment me? How could someone treat a human being like this?
A new window popped up, but Lecil dismissed it in anger.
The correct choice? Hah! Damn your cookie-cutter choices.
Lecil clenched her fists, and Tristan smiled openly, assured she would attack. But she didn't. Instead, she knelt on the floor, cold liquid soaking into her pants. Picking up the bread, she gingerly dipped it in a bit of pooling soup to make it softer before taking a bite.
The stale bread cut her mouth, taking multiple tries to break apart. The 'soup' only served to make it taste like a dirty rag.
"Princess!"
The maid called out. Irene couldn't fathom a princess actually eating off the floor? Neither could the Prince.
Arms shaking with rage, he bellowed.
"Do you have no shame! Eating scraps off the floor like a beggar?"
Choices didn't matter. Damned if she did. Damned if she didn't. Lecil would take any option that made Tristan grind his teeth.
Outwardly, Lecil was pitiful as she kept her gaze downward, dipping the bread in another puddle of soup.
"Enough!"
The bread was slapped away. It bounced off the wall.
"Maid! Clean up this mess and fetch something else."
Tristan turned with a huff and walked out. Irene hastily began grabbing towels as Celia fumed.
He's just going to walk away? After all that? What was the point? You Lousy piece of corrupted script, feeding off your family's torment like a parasite.
The small number above his head flickered.
Tristan: -3%
Hahahaha! That's it? That's all! Two percent, and it is still negative. Hahahahaha-aaaah… Watch your back, brother.
Our next encounter will end in blood.