[...Processed...]
[Granting Perks]
[Granting Limitations]
[Class: Bard]
[Successful]
FLASH!
"H-Huh!"
"W-Where am I?"
"Aren't I supposed to be..."
He looked around his room, noticing the opulent and extravagant design and engraving of the green walls that surrounded him.
Even the bed he was lying on was incredible; it was soft, and he couldn't even compare it to anything he had slept on before.
[Name: Ethan Cross]
[Class: Bard]
[Skills: Persuasion (Level 1)]
[Perks: Honest (MAX)]
"Dead...?"
His words were more like a whisper as he saw the hovering text in front of him; there was no way he couldn't have known what was going on.
"I've... transmigrated, haven't I?"
He stood up from his bed and checked his face in a mirror positioned beside his wardrobe. His face, his features, everything about him was familiar.
Ethan Cross.
Not him, but another, an Ethan Cross, from a fantasy novel he vaguely remembered reading from the past.
The Emerald Thrones.
There, he was a useless background prince, who was disowned by his family for being a talentless oaf who inherited none of his bloodline's skills or power.
The only reason he hadn't already been disowned was his looks.
The Frail Prince.
His nickname... both from the novel and the citizens under the empire.
"You've got to be kidding me, right?"
Ethan opened the curtains of his windows, revealing the grand city of Vanaryll that surrounded the royal palace where he now resided.
But being transmigrated to another world was the least of his problems; he couldn't care less that it happened.
It just meant he had a second life after being killed; he didn't have any reason to complain, even if his new life was less than satisfactory.
Being a prince was still better than his old life of being a con artist.
[Perks: Honest (MAX)]
"Honest...?"
Ethan's eye twitched. There was no way he was given the power of persuasion in exchange for not being able to lie?
That was a ridiculous drawback, enough that it literally made his dream ability almost useless.
"I'm..."
He tried to blurt out a lie, something about being a dragon, his first name being Ross, anything that wasn't true.
But none of it left his thoughts; his mouth itself wouldn't allow him to utter anything that wasn't true.
"Okay... this isn't the end of everything, persuasion is still powerful, I could get past this annoying limitation."
He paced around the room, then an idea came to his mind.
If he were a bard, then surely he had attributes or new talents that would fit; maybe he had more hidden bonuses he hadn't known about.
'System.'
He muttered, following common tropes from more novels he had finished.
[Attributes:]
-Music: Level 5
-Seduction: Level 3
-Appearance: Level 4
'I have that, at least, in fact, it's perfect for me.'
He sat at the edge of his bed with his legs crossed. Although his current situation wasn't favourable at all, he had abilities that the original Ethan Cross didn't have.
Even if it wasn't an overpowered sword skill or magic, he could still change his fate, especially when coupled with his vague knowledge about future events.
"Who knew reading novels would actually help me out? Without it, I'd probably die again just from shock alone."
A knock echoed through the room.
Ethan froze.
Not because he was scared, well, maybe a little, but because he suddenly remembered something very important.
The Frail Prince was not supposed to be awake right now.
Nor was he supposed to be standing around casually, muttering to himself like a lunatic.
Another knock followed, firmer this time.
"Your Highness?" came a cautious voice from behind the door. "Are you… awake?"
Ethan swallowed.
'Think, think fast!'
In the novel, this was around the time servants checked on him because he'd fainted after another failed "talent awakening."
Which meant that if he said the wrong thing, he wouldn't just look useless.
He'd look suspicious, crazy even.
"Yes," Ethan said, choosing the safest possible truth. "I'm awake."
The door creaked open.
A young maid stepped inside, her posture stiff, eyes carefully avoiding direct contact. She wore the standard palace uniform, neat but plain, and her expression screamed forced politeness.
"I'm relieved," she said, though her tone suggested the opposite. "You collapsed earlier. The physicians were summoned."
He immediately noticed the contrast between her words and the way she delivered herself.
'I would prefer if you just insult me on the spot...'
"I collapsed?" Ethan echoed, brushing away his concerns about the maid who clearly would rather be anywhere else than here.
"Yes, Your Highness," she replied. "After His Majesty concluded the evaluation."
'…Right.'
'That.'
Ethan felt a dull ache form in his chest, not physical, but borrowed, residual emotions from the body's original owner. Shame. Fear. A familiar, crushing inferiority.
The Emperor.
His new father.
The evaluation.
The reason the Frail Prince existed at all.
"I see," Ethan said carefully.
The maid hesitated, clearly expecting… something. Anger, excuses, whining, whatever the original Ethan was known for.
Instead, she got silence.
"…Is there anything you require?" she asked at last.
Ethan opened his mouth instinctively.
'Say something reassuring, something confident, something fake.'
Nothing came out.
He winced internally.
"I require…" he began, then stopped.
He couldn't lie, which meant he couldn't request anything too recklessly or pretend everything was fine.
He also couldn't pretend he wasn't thinking about how badly things were about to go for him in the future.
All he could do was to ensure any future conversation he would encounter wouldn't naturally need answers that would risk his identity and safety.
So he did the only thing left.
"I don't know," he said honestly.
The maid blinked.
"…Pardon?"
"I don't know what I should do next," Ethan continued, surprising even himself with how calm he sounded. "That evaluation decided things beyond my control. If I ask for comfort, it would be dishonest. If I pretend I'm confident, it would be a lie."
'I'm already seen as useless, making myself sound more pathetic shouldn't negatively impact me that much for now.'
The silence stretched.
The maid's expression slowly shifted, not to pity, but confusion.
No prince spoke like that.
Especially not Ethan Cross, the prince who made up for his frailty with his brash and arrogant attitude.
"I…" she hesitated, then bowed slightly. "Then I will inform the steward that you are awake and… thinking."
"Please do," Ethan said. "And thank you."
She left in a hurry, the door closing a bit too fast.
Ethan exhaled and slumped back onto the bed.
"…Wow," he muttered. "This is going to be harder than I thought."
[Skill Notification]
[Persuasion (Level 1) has gained minor experience.]
Ethan froze.
Then slowly, a small knowing grin spread across his face.
"So that's how it works," he whispered.
It was a small victory, but it was enough to give him a small hope that he could eventually turn the tide.