The morning of departure arrived with all the subtlety of a war declaration.
Priam had barely slept, his mind churning through every possible scenario, every plot point he could remember from the game, every potential death flag that might be waiting for him at Rosevale Royal Academy. When dawn finally broke through his small window, painting his modest room in shades of gold and amber, he was already awake, staring at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes.
"Right," he muttered to himself, swinging his legs out of bed. "Today's the day I officially enter hell. Again. Because apparently dying once from overwork wasn't enough punishment."
He went through his morning routine mechanically—washing with cold water from a basin, combing his jet-black hair into something presentable, and donning his butler's uniform with practiced efficiency. The black suit fit him perfectly, tailored specifically for his role as Lady Seraphina's personal attendant. Silver buttons bearing the Ashcroft crest gleamed in the morning light, and as Priam fastened them, he couldn't help but feel like he was putting on armor for battle.
Which, in a sense, he was.
The Ashcroft manor was already buzzing with activity when Priam emerged from the servants' quarters. Maids hurried through hallways carrying linens and supplies, footmen loaded trunks onto carriages, and the head steward barked orders with military precision. Everyone moved with purpose, all in preparation for Lady Seraphina's departure to the academy.
Priam navigated through the organized chaos, making his way toward the main carriage house. As Seraphina's personal butler, he would be accompanying her to Rosevale, along with a small contingent of Ashcroft servants who would maintain her residence near the academy grounds. It was, he reflected grimly, both a privilege and a curse. Privilege because most servants never left the estate; curse because it meant he'd be in the direct line of fire for all of Seraphina's schemes.
"Master Priam!" A breathless voice called out behind him.
He turned to find Luxanna, one of Seraphina's personal maids, rushing toward him with an expression of barely contained panic. She was a young woman, perhaps a year or two older than Priam's current body, with mouse-brown hair tied back in a severe bun and wide, anxious eyes. He remembered her vaguely from his inherited memories—loyal to Seraphina, terrified of her, and one of the few servants who had shown him any kindness.
"Luxanna," he greeted with a slight bow. "What's wrong?"
"It's Lady Seraphina," she said, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "She's in one of her moods. She's already dismissed three maids this morning, and she's demanding to see you immediately. Something about her luggage not being properly organized?"
Of course she is, Priam thought with an internal sigh. Can't start the journey without establishing dominance, can we?
"I'll handle it," he said aloud, his voice calm and professional. "Where is she?"
"Her chambers. And Master Priam?" Luxanna grabbed his sleeve, her expression genuinely worried. "Please be careful. She's worse than usual today."
Priam gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, though internally he was already preparing for whatever fresh hell awaited him. "I always am."
The walk to Seraphina's chambers felt longer than usual, each step weighted with the knowledge of what he was walking into. The game had mentioned that Seraphina was particularly volatile on the day of academy departure—a combination of anticipation, anxiety, and the pressure she put on herself to be perfect. In several routes, she had actually injured servants in her pre-departure tantrums.
Priam reached the ornate doors, took a deep breath, and knocked.
"Enter."
The single word was spoken softly, but there was an edge to it that set off every alarm bell in Priam's head. He opened the door and stepped inside.
The scene that greeted him was controlled chaos. Seraphina stood in the center of her chamber, surrounded by open trunks and scattered clothing. Dresses in every color imaginable lay draped over furniture, jewels sparkled from open cases, and shoes were lined up like soldiers awaiting inspection. And in the midst of it all stood the villainess herself, looking absolutely magnificent and absolutely furious.
She wore a traveling dress of deep sapphire blue, cinched at the waist and falling in elegant layers to the floor. Her golden hair was partially styled, falling in carefully arranged curls over one shoulder while the other side remained loose. Her violet eyes blazed with barely contained irritation as they fixed on Priam.
"You're late," she said, her voice deceptively calm.
Priam bowed immediately, keeping his head lowered. "My apologies, my lady. I came as soon as I was informed you required my presence."
"I sent for you ten minutes ago."
Try three minutes, you tyrannical princess, Priam thought, but he kept his expression carefully neutral. "I apologize for the delay. How may I serve you?"
Seraphina gestured imperiously at the trunks. "These imbeciles have packed my belongings like common farm goods. Everything is disorganized, wrinkled, and completely unacceptable. I cannot arrive at Rosevale Royal Academy looking anything less than perfect. The first impression is crucial, especially when..." She paused, and something flickered across her face—vulnerability, perhaps, or determination. "Especially when His Highness will be there."
There it is, Priam noted. The Prince obsession in full display.
He straightened and approached the trunks, examining their contents with a practiced eye. Honestly, they looked fine to him—the maids had actually done an excellent job—but he understood what was really happening here. Seraphina wasn't actually upset about the packing. She was anxious about the academy, about meeting the Prince, about the weight of expectations crushing down on her shoulders. This was displacement behavior, taking out her stress on something she could control.
The problem was, that something included him.
"I see the issue, my lady," Priam said smoothly, beginning to methodically unpack one of the trunks. "Allow me to reorganize everything to your specifications. If you would be so kind as to indicate your preferences?"
Seraphina watched him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, surprisingly, she moved closer, standing beside him as he worked. This close, he could smell her perfume—something floral and expensive that probably cost more than his annual salary.
"The evening gowns should be packed with protective wrapping," she instructed, her voice taking on a more measured tone. "The purple silk especially—it's the one I'll wear to the Welcome Ball. It must be perfect."
"Of course, my lady." Priam carefully extracted said purple dress, a stunning creation of silk and lace that probably represented months of a skilled seamstress's work. "This is exquisite. His Highness will surely be impressed."
He hated how easily the flattery came to him, but he could see it working. Seraphina's posture relaxed slightly, and when she spoke again, her voice had lost some of its sharp edge.
"Do you truly think so?" The question was asked quietly, almost vulnerable.
Priam glanced at her, surprised by the genuine uncertainty in her tone. For a moment, she didn't look like the fearsome villainess who terrorized the academy in the game. She looked like a seventeen-year-old girl, scared of not being good enough.
It would have been easy to simply flatter her more, to tell her what she wanted to hear. But Priam found himself speaking more honestly than he intended.
"I think," he said carefully, continuing to fold garments with meticulous precision, "that you are one of the most striking individuals I have ever seen. Your beauty, your grace, your intelligence—they are undeniable. Any man would be fortunate to earn your attention."
Seraphina's eyes widened slightly, a faint flush coloring her cheeks. "I... that is..."
"However," Priam continued, and he could feel her stiffening beside him, "if I may speak freely for just a moment?"
"You may not—"
"Respectfully, my lady, you don't need to try so hard." The words came out before he could stop them, and Priam immediately regretted his boldness. But he'd started, so he might as well finish. "You are already extraordinary. The right person will see that without you having to orchestrate every detail to perfection."
Silence fell over the room like a heavy blanket. Priam kept his eyes on the trunk, his hands continuing their work, not daring to look at Seraphina's face. He'd just massively overstepped his bounds. She could have him whipped for such impertinence. She could have him dismissed from service. She could—
"You forget yourself, butler."
Her voice was ice. Priam froze.
"You are a servant. A commoner with barely a trace of noble blood. What could you possibly know about what is required of someone in my position?" Seraphina's voice grew colder with each word. "I am the daughter of a Duke. I am destined to stand beside the Crown Prince as the future queen of this kingdom. Every detail must be perfect because perfection is what is expected of me. Required of me. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my lady," Priam said quietly, bowing his head. "I apologize for my presumption."
"You should." She turned away from him, her skirts swishing with the movement. "Finish packing. And Priam?"
"Yes, my lady?"
"Do not presume to lecture me on my worth ever again. You have no idea what you're talking about."
But underneath the ice in her voice, Priam detected something else. Not quite hurt, but... consideration? As if his words had struck some chord she didn't want to acknowledge.
He continued packing in silence, and Seraphina stood by the window, gazing out at the estate grounds. The tension in the room was palpable, but not entirely hostile. It was strange—in the game, Seraphina had been one-dimensional, a simple villain with no depth. But here, in reality, she was so much more complex. Cruel, yes, but also vulnerable. Demanding, but also under immense pressure. Cold, but perhaps only because no one had ever shown her warmth without wanting something in return.
I'm thinking about her too much, Priam realized, shaking his head slightly. She's still the villainess. I need to remember that.
An hour later, the trunks were packed to Seraphina's satisfaction, and the departure procession was finally ready. Priam stood beside the main carriage—an opulent vehicle of polished black wood and gold trim, drawn by four magnificent white horses. The Ashcroft crest was emblazoned on the doors, and velvet curtains obscured the interior from view.
Duke Ashcroft himself had come to see his daughter off, a tall, imposing man with steel-gray hair and the same violet eyes as Seraphina. His expression was stern as he regarded his daughter.
"Remember your purpose, Seraphina," he said, his voice carrying the weight of expectation. "You go to Rosevale to secure the Prince's favor and ensure our family's position in the future reign. Do not disappoint me."
"I won't, Father," Seraphina replied, her voice perfectly composed. She curtsied with flawless grace. "I will make you proud."
"See that you do." The Duke's gaze shifted to Priam, and his expression became even more severe. "And you, boy. Your duty is to serve my daughter and assist her in achieving her goals. If you fail in this, you will answer to me personally."
Priam bowed deeply. "I understand, Your Grace. I will serve Lady Seraphina with absolute loyalty."
The Duke nodded curtly and stepped back. Seraphina ascended into the carriage with practiced elegance, and Priam moved to follow—as her personal butler, he would ride inside with her rather than with the other servants.
The interior of the carriage was as luxurious as expected, with plush velvet seats and small details of comfort that showed wealth and status. Seraphina settled into her seat by the window, and Priam took his place opposite her, sitting rigidly upright in proper servant posture.
The carriage lurched into motion, and just like that, they were off.
For the first hour, neither of them spoke. Seraphina gazed out the window, watching as the Ashcroft estate gradually disappeared behind them, replaced by rolling countryside and scattered villages. Priam maintained his proper posture, hands folded in his lap, face carefully neutral.
But inside, his mind was racing.
The academy, he thought. That's where everything really begins. Where the game's prologue ends and the real story starts. Where I'll meet all the capture targets, all the rival love interests, all the people who could potentially get me killed.
"Priam."
He snapped to attention. "Yes, my lady?"
Seraphina was still looking out the window, her profile elegant against the passing landscape. "What you said earlier. About not trying so hard."
"I apologize again for my—"
"Did you mean it?"
The question caught him off guard. He studied her carefully, trying to read her expression. She seemed... genuinely curious. Not angry, not testing him, but actually wanting to know.
"Yes," he said finally. "I meant it."
A long pause. Then: "Why?"
Why? Because you're a tragic character written by a hack who didn't understand that making someone beautiful and cruel doesn't make them interesting. Because you're going to destroy yourself chasing after a man who will never love you. Because I can see what you can't—that all this performance is just armor, and underneath it, you're terrified of being inadequate.
But he couldn't say any of that.
"Because," Priam chose his words carefully, "sometimes the things we think we need to do to be worthy are the very things that push away what we're seeking."
Seraphina finally turned to look at him, her violet eyes studying his face with unsettling intensity. "You speak strangely for a servant. Sometimes I wonder..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."
She turned back to the window, and the conversation was apparently over. But Priam noticed that some of the tension had left her shoulders, and when she thought he wasn't looking, there was a thoughtful expression on her face.
Progress, he thought. Small, dangerous progress. But progress nonetheless.
The journey to Rosevale would take three days. Three days alone in this carriage with the villainess. Three days before they reached the academy and his real challenge began.
Priam settled in for the long ride and hoped he would survive long enough to see it through.
Outside, the countryside rolled past, beautiful and indifferent to the schemes of nobles and the survival strategies of reincarnated butlers.
Somewhere ahead lay Rosevale Royal Academy, where princes and nobles gathered, where love and betrayal intertwined, where a ruthless villainess would either find her destiny or her doom.
And Priam would be there, every step of the way, trying to change a fate that seemed written in stone.
Just a peaceful life, he thought wryly. That's all I ever wanted.
But peace, he was learning, was the rarest luxury in any world.