Maeve could feel vomit climbing up her throat as the physician shoved whatever thing in her throat. Her eyes moved to Isabella's birth parents. Count and Countess Montague. The former was seated right next to her, worry spread all over his face, while the latter stood behind the physician, her posture regal and his perfect but her eyes showered concern as well.
"Ah uh ine,"
"Don't speak when you're being treated, you might distract him with your pretty voice," The Countess wasn't particularly pretty, Maeve realized. She had sharp features and a resting bitch face— but her voice was extraordinarily soft, almost making Maeve want to sleep.
Her stomach grumbled.
Nah. She'd rather eat instead.
The physician sighed, taking a step back. He was a rather lovely looking man for his age— Maeve presumed he was at least fifty. "She seems perfectly fine, your Grace. I don't know why everyone is panicking,"
The Count was grabbing her now, his arms wrapped around her neck, practically strangling her as he cooed a song in her ear. Maeve was trying her best not to scream as she turned to the Countess and flashed her a smile.
The woman shuddered in fear before turning back to the physician, "So she can still participate in the presentation day?"
He nodded. "Of course,"
"But I don't feel good," Maeve chirped in, and when the countess and the physician turned to look at her, she added in two coughs for good measure and then shrugged, "So unwell,"
"She does feel a bit warm, my love," The Count muttered, his face turning to his wife though Maeve noticed that he was also giving her a thumbs up from beneath— he supported her not going.
Maeve could have kissed him. On the cheek that is. So instead, she passed him a thumbs up as well.
"It's probably nerves, dear daughter," The Countess pinched the bridge of her nose.
She looked torn— like she didn't want to pick between her daughter and this event, and Maeve sort of understood why— or remembered why for more context. The Presentation Day cemented her Family's position in nobility. And if their daughter's rank was high, it opened more contract paths, favourability and overall just a simple, easy life.
This should be Maeve's goal, yes?
WRONG!
She knew how it went. The second Isabella arrived at the Royal Palace for her test, she tripped— the clumsy fool, and ended up tripping the orb over. But as the plot would have it, her fingers must have grazed it, causing it to turn pure white and shoot little white sparks that turned into fireworks (yes, Maeve isn't proud of it).
That was where the Duke found her confusing but wanted to protect her from the world and the Prince decided he'd keep her by his side because she amused me— which meant Isabella being pulled apart by them 24/7.
Ah. That was none of her business. She was going to sleep and eat in peace!
"Your Grace," Maeve shot up from her seat, the Count almost falling to the floor from the sudden movement though she didn't turn to check on him as she said, "Perhaps I take a walk? To calm myself?"
Translation: To find a spot where I can sleep so no one disturbs me.
The Countess nodded. "Of course, my darling. The guards will—"
"I can go by myself. Thank you. Goodbye," And she shot out of the room down the hallway.
The second she was gone, the blue screen popped beside her, flashing new words, [YOU COULD AT LEAST PRETEND TO BE THEIR REAL DAUGHTER. THEY WERE CLEARLY WORRIED ABOUT YOU]
"Do I look like I care?" Maeve hissed under her breath though the maids in the hallway looked terrified like they understood her. "And I thought you were a system. Why are you so informal with me?"
[BECAUSE YOU ENJOY BEING ROUGHLY HANDLED]
"Is that a sex joke? God, I hope not,"
Maeve found herself somewhere now through all her walking though she wasn't quite certain where she was exactly. The backyard, possibly? There were a lot of trees and the air… ah, the air smelled like flowers and cotton candy. It made her think of food again but no, she had to focus. She had a mission!
"Ella?"
The softest baritone Maeve had ever heard spoke beside her, and she turned, her eyes falling on a very… gorgeous looking man. He was caramel skinned with dark curls that bounced over his hair in a cute way. He had beautiful brown eyes that glistened under the sunlight like starlight.
[YOU ARE DROOLING, MISS I WILL NOT FOLLOW THE PLOT]
"He's a male lead too?" Maeve whispered. "Who is he?"
The blue screen let out some noise before another screen appeared, [LUCIEN AVERAY. STABLEMASTER. RANK- C. BEST FRIEND TO ISABELLA MONTAGUE. MINOR LOVE INTEREST. SEEING YOU IN SUCH A STATE HAS ACTIVATED PROTECT THE HELPLESS DAMSEL TROPE ROUTE]
"WHAT?"
Lucien moved closer. He had on a tank top so his bulging muscles pulsed with life and sweat. "Who are you talking to? Are you okay?"
Maeve tried her hardest not to notice how the top clung to his chest. Her eyes twitched uncontrollably because of it, both of them almost popping out of her eyes as she fought the natural instinctive urge to harass the man's body like a pervert but she won eventually, panting as she said, "You're the stable master, yes? You can give me a horse so I can take a walk,"
He looked confused. And worried.
[HE IS EVEN MORE PROTECTIVE NOW. TRIGGERING APPROVAL RATING. 3+]
What?!
"Why don't we talk instead, hmm?"
His hand moved to hold her arm but she instinctively moved away. He looked confused again, then hurt. The system flashed something but Maeve didn't bother to look at it. Instead, she said with the most serious voice she could muster, "I need to leave on a horse. Right now. If you ever cared about me, you'd give me one,"
[… USING HIS FEELINGS FOR YOU AGAINST HIM? YOU REALLY ARE EVIL]
"But today is an important day for you," He sounded like a puppy whose tail was being stepped on but trying its best not to make too much noise. "You've made so many comments about how much you waited for this day. Seeing you want to leave—"
"Makes it clear that something is wrong, doesn't it?" She cut in. This was a business tactic she had learned in her first year as a corporate slave. Stick to your story as much as you can, and soon enough, everyone will believe it is the truth, even you.
Lucien folded. Instantly. His shoulders slummed like she told him the world was ending, "Alright. I will go bring your horse now,"
As he left, Maeve let out a breath of relief.
The screen glowed again, [THIS ROUTE PUTS HIM AT RISK. WILL YOU STILL BE WILLING TO WATCH HIM SUFFER IN LETTING YOU ESCAPE. YES OR NO?]
"What if I don't pick?"
[NEGATIVE]
Maeve sighed. She felt bad, and of course she did. He was doing all of this because he thought he was speaking to Isabella who she wasn't. Still, she didn't care. She couldn't. He was never going to be the girl's Male Lead anyway so this will take him out of the plot faster, "Yes."
[DING! THIRD MALE LEAD UNLOCKED]
"WHAT?!"