That World of Otome Games is Tough for Us - Volume 2 - Chapter Pr

Prologue

IT’S DIFFICULT TO ACHIEVE the future we desire, especially when fate takes us down a path that we don’t want, and we lack the means to resist. No matter how carefully we make choices and conduct ourselves, reality can be a harsh, cruel mistress.

As people poured into their local temple, they appeared better groomed than usual at such an early hour. Everyone was in formal wear—suits and dresses—ready to celebrate the joyous occasion. Gray clouds loomed in the skies above, but everyone inside the temple was smiling.

From crowded pews, people kept their eyes glued to a young woman clad in a pure-white wedding dress. Her name was Marie Fou Lafan. Her voluminous hair was carefully braided and pinned, and a veil fell across her face, hiding the makeup that had taken considerable time to perfect for the day’s event.

Marie gazed out through her thin veil at the temple’s stained glass windows. This building’s architecture reminded her of a church from her previous world. The image in the stained glass portrayed the Saint, who had been deeply involved in founding Holfort Kingdom. She, too, wore a pure-white dress and was depicted with her three holy relics: a bracelet, necklace, and staff. There was a deep fondness in the Saint’s expression. It contrasted starkly with Marie’s, which was clouded, like the skies outside.

This would’ve been a happy occasion, ordinarily. The weather was beyond anyone’s control, but Marie had never gotten to indulge in a wedding itself during her previous life. She’d always wanted to see her and her groom’s families gather to watch their ceremony and celebrate. That was one dream she’d desperately hoped to achieve on this second go-around.

Her mood had plummeted to a heretofore unforeseen low.

Life’s just hopeless, isn’t it? Marie wanted to curse her fate. She was being forced against her will into a wedding before she’d even finished her first full year at the academy.

She snuck a glance at her relatives in the pews. All their faces wore joyous smiles. Normally, they never even counted her as a proper family member, but today every single one of them had attended. Marie knew her parents, specifically, were excited, though not out of a genuine desire to celebrate their daughter’s marriage. Most aristocrats, Marie not least among them, were loath even to class the Lafans as proper nobility; nonetheless, they had good reason to be here.

Viscount Lafan, Marie’s father, sat beside her mother. He was a lanky man, thin beyond what was considered normal. That could probably be attributed to his alcoholism; his appearance reflected his unhealthy habits. The unnaturally ruddy hue of his cheeks suggested he’d already started drinking today.

“Hard to believe our useless youngest girl managed to fetch such a high price,” said the viscount, a little too loudly. “At least now our problems are solved.”

Beside the viscount was a plump woman—Marie’s mother. She was already draped in presumably newly purchased jewelry. “Such a show of filial piety, marrying to resolve our debts,” she purred. “If we’d known how much she’d do for us, we would’ve doted on her a little more.”

Marie hadn’t wished for this wedding. Her family had sold her off to a man in whom she had no interest.

She dropped her gaze to the floor. Not one to wallow, she instead channeled her emotions into rage at her family for their part in this. They’ll rue the day, I swear! She ground her teeth, practically vibrating out of her skin with righteous indignation.

The bridegroom strolled toward Marie. The man heaved an exaggerated sigh as he stopped beside her, wrinkling his nose in an obvious display of disgust. Eyeing him, she cursed him inwardly. Why do you look so miffed? I’m the one who feels cheated here!

Marie’s betrothed was an uncomfortably overweight man in his thirties. Despite the years he had on her, he was like a petulant child who refused to mask his dismay over being here. He wore a crisp top-of-the-line suit, but his lack of natural grace made it look ill fitting.

The man peeled his gaze away from Marie, as if refusing to so much as look at her, and grumbled, “Why do I have to marry this half-pint? I prefer women with proper curves. Her looks completely miss the mark.”

Marie’s blood boiled at his audacity. As if his behavior wasn’t bad enough, he had the nerve to openly denigrate her. Your family came to mine, asking for this marriage!

Mentally, Marie was much older than she appeared, since she had memories of her past life. In a physical sense, though, she was only sixteen. Per this world’s laws, she was an adult of marriageable age. But whether this union was legal or not, Marie hadn’t wanted it. She didn’t love this man, and she certainly didn’t love being robbed of what should’ve been an enjoyable student life at the academy. Traditionally, if a woman married early, she dropped out.

Never in a million years could she have imagined her family would sell her off like this. The marriage itself was difficult to stomach, too.

This is total bull! How can such a miserable, unwanted wedding happen in the world of a freakin’ otome game?! I wanted a proper ceremony with a man I love!

Ever since Marie reincarnated into this otome game, her life had been nothing but hardship. As she polished her healing abilities, the only dream she’d had to cling to was the academy. All the effort she’d put into her magic had come at the cost of her body’s growth; learning that had been a considerable shock.

Marie had never told her family about those healing abilities. Thinking she was useless, they were already happy to sell her off. Who knew how they’d exploit her if they discovered her hidden potential?

She didn’t trust them.

These people were far worse than her family in her previous life. They were, after all, happy to pawn her off on a rich house in exchange for the promise that their debts would be paid.

Do you jerks have any idea how much misery I had to endure to get here? I finally enrolled at the academy, and although things didn’t work out like I imagined, it’s been pretty fun! Now you’re ruining it!

A temple priestess came up to the couple, smiling. She wore a golden necklace and bracelet, and carried a similarly golden staff in her hand. The priestess had doubtless overheard the bridegroom griping. The only reason she didn’t knit her brows in disapproval was presumably the considerable remuneration his family had offered for the temple’s venue and services.

“It is such a blessing that your houses are to unite on this most glorious day. It must be the divine work of the Saint herself. Now then, are you both ready to proceed with the ceremony?”

The bridegroom pulled a face. “Hurry up and get this over with.” He had no interest in this marriage, nor in the wedding ceremony itself. After all, he hadn’t asked for this, either.

The whole point of this union was to bind their families, regardless of what they actually wanted. The rest of the aristocracy disdained the groom’s family, as they were new money. Thus, they sought to incorporate a real aristocrat into their line, but not Marie specifically.

As for why the groom’s house was going to such an extreme, that boiled down to the unique way in which they’d risen to power. For the most part, their peers either despised them or consorted with them only to serve their own ends; none would discuss any marital alliance. That was why the house needed real noble blood—to gain legitimacy—and they could also have done so via any noblewoman other than Marie.

The priestess’s smile strained a bit at the bridegroom’s boorish demand, but that disappeared almost instantly. She’d seemingly reminded herself just how much money the temple had received from his family.

“Very well. Let’s hurry along, then. Drawn-out speeches must be quite a bore to the younger generation,” the priestess said sweetly, focusing all her attention on the bridegroom. She gave Marie only a fleeting glance. Marie’s displeasure at this unwanted wedding must’ve been plain as day on her face, yet the priestess’s eyes held not a mote of sympathy. She was probably used to these arrangements.

In this particular otome game, the protagonist had ­enjoyed a storybook romance with her love interest. At the end, she and her beloved tied the knot, and the bride and groom were warmly celebrated at their wedding. Yet, in this fantasy world, such a thing was also a fantasy—a dream achievable only by a protagonist.

This world is sickeningly harsh for an otome game. I mean, couldn’t it stand to be a little nicer to me? I can’t believe I’ve gotta marry this pig. In a single glance, Marie had figured out her future husband. He’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and had never experienced hardship. He wanted for nothing, since his parents lavished him with everything, and he’d grown up selfish and conceited.

This was the man she was supposed to marry? She could already picture how their marriage would go. After the ceremony, they would live as a loveless husband and wife. As soon as she gave birth to a child for him, the odds were good that he and his family would see her as a tool that had served its purpose. Thereafter, they would treat her like excess baggage.

My last life was an absolute failure, so I swore to myself I’d do better this time around. I vowed to find happiness. This is so freakin’ unfair! Marie hadn’t struggled and clawed her way this far only to land in such a miserable position. Her eyes shimmered with tears of frustration.

But there was nothing she could do.

However she responded to this predicament, she couldn’t wriggle out of it, no matter how intensely she wished it could be otherwise. Her mind sought to escape reality, imagining that someone might swoop in to save her. The first face to fill those thoughts was hazy, indiscernible: the face of her older brother in her last life.

Ha ha. I can’t believe I’m still thinking about him after all this time. Her inner voice was self-deprecating, but Marie genuinely believed that her brother would’ve thought up some way to save her if he were present. Only in hindsight had she realized how reliable he always was. Save me, Big Bro.

In her previous life, Marie had mostly just called him “Brother” or “Bro,” only whipping out the entreating, childlike “Big Bro” when she wanted something from him.

As Marie silently pleaded for her brother’s help, her mind wandered back to the beginning—back to how all this had started.