The Vaillness' Faithful Dog II vadtd x M.y/n II

⸢Prologue⸥

Everything seemed perfectly fine.

Even with me living alone, in a house nearly fit enough for one person, that I've spent almost my whole childhood dreaming about.

The fact that I had to work multiple part-time jobs at a time also wasn't an important matter to me.

After all; I've finally escaped from the hell-like orphanage and got myself some freedom. It was something I'd smile thinking about, happy, it was enough to make me go happy.

I only need to get my twin sister back; yes, I'll talk to her, and we'll finally be able to live happily after. Together.

But,...

"Your grace; you've received an invitation from the royal palace. Should I burn it, like always-...?"

A man who I assumed was a butler spoke to me.

'... Royal... Palace...?'

His closed eyes and cautious tone of voice were like that of a used-to-violence man.

It was then.

A white chart appeared before my gaze.

And I could see the words written line by line in the chart.

1. Should I tell you, hmm-? Foolish filthy commoner.

2. (Strangle him) You dare interrupt me for just this-?!

3. The Royal Palace, you say...?

'...What's this?'

I was going to ask what this was. However, as if the words died in my throat, I couldn't let out a single sound. None.

The man's voice broke the silence once again, when I just sat there without uttering a word.

".... Your grace-?"

My headache got worse in response, clenching my fists unconsciously - just shut up, will you-?!

However; he won't if I don't give a clear answer.

Slowly reaching out my hand, I pressed number 3 on the white chart.

"The Royal Palace, you say...?"

The same words written before my eyes, were automatically spoken through my own mouth without my will.

'What the-. What's this shit about-?!'

I frowned, eyes widening in the process; still not believing those were my own words. Spat out by my own mouth.

I couldn't take guess what kind of situation I was in right now.

I was in an unfamiliar place when I opened my eyes, surrounded by unfamiliar people who all wore fancy clothes like some dammit roleplay.

I simply couldn't think straight, as if I was merely a drunk who just woke up on a sidestreet.

"Yes, your grace. His Royal Highness; the crown prince, has asked for a meeting with you personally."

The butler replied, head still held low. He seemed to not be getting up any time soon until he got a straight-up command.

It was then that the former sentences were eventually replaced by new ones in the chart.

1. Do not reply, and simply throw it away.

2. You may stand, put it on my desk, and leave.

3. (Throw the nearest vase at him) Fuck it-! This son of a whore isn't seeing me anytime soon.