The royal salon was a trap.
It was a beautiful trap, of course. Filled with the soft glow of a hundred candles, the sound of a string quartet, and the sweet scent of blooming lilies arranged in crystal vases. Nobles in silks and velvets drifted through the room like expensive, perfumed ghosts, their laughter as light and airy as the pastries carried by silent servants.
I stood near a marble pillar, a glass of sparkling wine in my hand, feeling like a wolf who had accidentally wandered into a sheep convention. My new, expensive clothes—a deep blue tailcoat with silver embroidery—itched. Klaus's body was used to them, but my mind, Null's mind, recoiled from the pointless opulence.
This was my first real test. A mandatory "informal" gathering for the academy's elite students. The game's plot was beginning to move. And all the key players were here.
My glitchy interface was working overtime, flickering in the corner of my eye like a nervous tic.
Lord Fancy-Hat: Favor: 15. Corruption: 55.
Lady Gossip: Favor: 10. Corruption: 60.
Most of the stats were variations on the same theme: mild, shallow favor and moderate corruption. These people were playing their own game, one of status and alliances, and I was just a minor piece on their board.
Then I saw him.
Prince Cedric stood near the throne dais, surrounded by a small circle of admirers. He looked every bit the storybook prince, with his silver hair and emerald-green eyes. He was listening to an older duke speak, a polite, attentive smile on his face. But my interface saw something else.
Prince Cedric: Favor: 12. Corruption: 15. Obsession: 0.
His Favor had gone up two points since our encounter in the courtyard. A small victory. He didn't see me as an immediate threat. I needed to keep it that way. I took a slow sip of my wine, forcing myself to look relaxed. The goal tonight was simple: be a wallpaper. Be boring. Be forgotten.
A shift in the room's energy, a subtle drawing of breath, made me turn.
She had arrived.
In the game, she was just a collection of pixels and text. Here, in person, Lady Violet was… magnetic. She wore a simple, lavender dress, humble compared to the jewels around her, but it made her seem more genuine. Her chestnut hair was styled simply, and she had a slightly nervous, but determined, look in her amethyst eyes. She was the one fresh flower in a garden of plastic roses.
My interface flickered.
Lady Violet: Favor: 18. Corruption: 5. Obsession: 0.
Her Favor had also risen. She remembered my small act of kindness. A part of me, the part that was still Null, noted this as a successful manipulation. The larger part, the part that was terrified of dying in a ditch, felt a genuine spark of relief.
I watched as Prince Cedric broke from his circle and moved toward her. The classic meet-cute. This was where, in the original game, Klaus would have swooped in, insulted Violet, and cemented his role as the rival. My fingers tightened around my glass. I did not move.
I saw Cedric offer her a slight bow. I saw Violet blush and curtsy. Their stats didn't change, but the air around them seemed to shimmer. It was like watching a key scene from a movie play out in real life. I was an audience member, not an actor. It felt… strange. Right, but strange.
My plan was working. I was invisible.
And then I saw her.
She was standing in a shadowy alcove, partially hidden by a large, potted fern. A woman in her late forties, perhaps, with severe gray hair pulled into a tight bun and a dress of unadorned, dark gray silk. She held no wine glass, only a small, leather-bound ledger. While everyone else watched the prince and the commoner, her sharp, hawk-like eyes were scanning the entire room. Calculating.
I focused on her. My interface stuttered, a sharp pain pricking my temple. The text that formed was clear, but the numbers were alarming.
Treasurer Elara: Favor: 0. Corruption: 75. Obsession: 98.
I nearly dropped my glass.
Obsession: 98. And it wasn't directed at a person. As I watched, her gaze fell on a portly baron boasting about his new racehorse, then dropped to her ledger. Her eyes narrowed. The obsession was for numbers. For accounts. For the kingdom's wealth. Her Corruption was high because she would crush anyone who threatened the royal treasury. She was the most dangerous person in the room, and no one even noticed her.
This was new. This wasn't in the game. Elara had been a background name, a bureaucrat. Here, she was a predator.
I quickly looked away, my heart thumping. I couldn't let her notice me. A young noble with suddenly changed behavior would be a variable. And people who loved numbers hated variables.
For the next hour, I played my part. I made small, bland talk with a few people. I complimented a painting. I nodded along to a story about a hunting dog. It was mind-numbing. My interface showed tiny, boring fluctuations in Favor. +1, -1, +2. Nothing significant.
I thought I was succeeding. I thought I was safe.
Then he found me.
"Viscount Herrmann," a smooth, cold voice said beside me. "You are unusually… quiet this evening."
I turned to face Sir Roderick, the knight captain. He was a mountain of a man, his academy uniform traded for the formal regalia of the Royal Guard. A sword hung at his hip, and his expression was as hard as the steel it was made from.
Sir Roderick: Favor: -8. Corruption: 20. Obsession: ???
His Favor had actually improved by two points. But the terrifying column of question marks next to his Obsession remained. What was he so obsessed with? Honor? The Prince? Something else?
I gave him a slight, polite bow, just deep enough to be respectful without being subservient. "Sir Roderick. I am merely observing. It is a skill I am trying to improve."
His eyes, the color of flint, bored into me. He was searching for the arrogant boy he despised. "Observing," he repeated, the word dripping with skepticism. "And what have you observed?"
This was a test. A direct confrontation. My old instincts, Null's instincts, screamed at me to deflect, to manipulate. But Klaus would have gotten defensive and arrogant. I had to find a middle path.
I gestured slightly with my glass toward the center of the room, where Cedric and Violet were now talking with a small group. "I observe that the Prince is… a gracious host. He makes our guest from the countryside feel welcome."
It was a neutral, diplomatic answer. A safe answer.
Roderick's stare didn't waver. The question marks in his stat block seemed to pulse. He was looking for a lie, for a hidden barb. He found none.
After a silence that stretched too long, he gave a single, sharp nod. "Indeed." He didn't say another word. He just turned and walked away, his armor clinking softly.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. My hands were trembling. I set the wine glass down on a passing servant's tray before I spilled it.
That had been too close. Roderick's suspicion was a different kind of doom flag—one that could lead to a dungeon cell, not just a disinheritance.
I needed to leave. I had achieved my goal. I had been present, unremarkable, and had survived an encounter with a key player without raising my Corruption or lowering my Favor any further.
I began to make my way toward the large, ornate doors, offering polite nods but not stopping to talk. I was almost there, the cool night air a promise of escape, when I passed the alcove.
Treasurer Elara was still there. And as I passed, her hawk-like eyes snapped from a countess's overly large diamond necklace directly to me.
Our eyes met for less than a second.
Her gaze was not suspicious like Roderick's. It was… assessing. It was the look a jeweler gives a gem, determining its weight and value. She looked at my new, expensive tailcoat, at my face, and then, I could have sworn, her eyes flickered down to my boots, as if calculating the cost of the leather.
My interface flared, a silent scream of pain in my head.
Treasurer Elara: Favor: 0 -> -5. Corruption: 75. Obsession: 98.
She didn't like what she saw. A young noble spending money. It was a simple, brutal equation for her.
I broke the gaze and walked out the doors, the cool air hitting me like a physical blow. I had escaped the party. I had avoided the obvious traps set by the prince and the heroine.
But I had a new, chilling fear. I had drawn the attention of the one person who could see the one thing I was trying to hide: the fact that I was no longer playing by the rules. I had money now. And Treasurer Elara, with her 98 Obsession for accounting, had just noticed.