That World of Otome Games is Tough for Us - Volume 4 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

The Dinner Party

WINTER BREAK WAS NEARLY OVER, and the new school term would soon be upon us.

I—Leon Fou Bartfort—had unfortunately been reincarnated into this absurd otome game. At present, I found myself spending time in the region formerly governed by Earl Offrey. My older brother, Viscount Bartfort, had recently been installed here, and he was now busy with all the preparations that inevitably faced a new lord taking over administrative duties.

The Holfortian aristocrats who presided over territory could generally be divided into two categories: lords who possessed their own mainland domains, and lords whose domains were located on independent floating islands. My father, Baron Bartfort, fell into the latter category. However, there were many benefits to the former category, though it often entailed frequent skirmishes with neighbors. I supposed that it made sense that those with independent territories were less susceptible to such petty squabbles.

In any case, Viscount Bartfort’s territory also placed him into the latter category. They had a new station among the nobility, but that didn’t entail all the usual downsides one might expect, thanks in part to their connections.

My brother, Nicks Fou Bartfort, came from an arguably minor, largely unheard-of barony. However, his betrothed was Dorothea Fou Roseblade of the esteemed House Roseblade. Therefore, although this viscounty was newly established, the couple possessed a long noble lineage. Some nobles would still scorn them as upstarts, but they had the full support of the Roseblades, who had history, tradition, and power on their side. No one in high society could disparage the viscount and viscountess openly, at least.

That’s what I was told, anyhow. I didn’t know squat about high society or its conventions myself. Deirdre Fou Roseblade, Dorothea’s younger sister and my new relation through the marriage, had filled me in during the break. When we spoke, I found myself exasperated, thinking, Only nobles would care about this crap.

Well, whatever.

The point was that Viscount Bartfort and his wife were now in charge of the former Offrey territory. As I said, they should’ve been busy with preparations. However, Nicks was raised by parents of simpler means, and he was loyal to his family. Thus, he asked me and my fiancée, Marie Fou Lafan, for dinner.

Nicks had always been a stand-up guy, but I couldn’t help worrying about him.

“Are you sure you should be inviting us to dine with you when you have so much else to focus on?” I asked. “You’ve got powerful officials living here who you should be wining and dining to make your future rule easier.”

Inviting those officials and listening to what they said would’ve been a much better use of his time. Although he and Dorothea were now in charge, the rest of the local administration hadn’t changed at all. The general populace probably felt anxious about their new lord. Winning over the old administration would go a long way toward improving relations with everyone.

That, by the way, was all knowledge I’d gained at the academy. I never figured it’d be useful to me. I only memorized it because I thought it might appear on a test. Who knew I’d ever land myself in a position to convey that information to my older brother?

Nicks’s smile vanished. “Unlike the upper classes, we in the general class don’t learn those sorts of things. I guess I should be glad to have such a reliable younger brother to offer me advice.” There was a hostile undercurrent in his voice.

I avoided his gaze and forced a smile. “‘Reliable’ is my middle name. You can turn to me whenever you need anything.” I shrugged at him, sounding a little too smug.

Nicks let out a bark of dry laughter. “You’d be far better suited to ruling this land than me. How about it? Want to be viscount here?”

“I’ll pass.” I shook my head. “I’m not cut out for such a high position.” I was trying to be modest and build him up.

He wouldn’t have it, though. “The humble act isn’t fooling anyone, coming from a guy who sold out his own brother,” Nicks spat at me.

“Sold you out? You make it sound so uncharitable. I was thinking of your happiness.”

“Liar!” 

Nicks seemingly didn’t understand my kindness at all. It was cruel that he’d paint me as a villain when all I’d done was push this unwanted title off on him.

“Who cares about the viscount title?” I scoffed. “You’ve got a beautiful, devoted woman like Miss Dorothea as your wife now. Isn’t that a big-enough boon?” 

I shot a glance at the woman beside him, who gracefully attended to her meal. She was as beautiful as a painting, with long blonde hair cascading past her shoulders and bangs cut in a neat row on her forehead. Dorothea had a tiny waist and voluptuous curves, her chest well-endowed and her bottom perfectly round. She never missed a day of exercise, which kept her slender and fit. The only complaint one might make was how cold she came across as she sat there quietly. She was like an ice queen, not speaking a word as she nibbled her food.

She let out a light, airy laugh. “Ah ha ha! Darling, you mustn’t worry about a thing. When it comes to your administrative duties, I’ll be right by your side through all of them, supporting you.” She put special emphasis on being “right by his side.”

Dorothea’s expression had been neutral until she spoke, but as her gaze turned to Nicks, her cheeks flushed and she smiled joyfully. As for her “darling,” Nicks, he dropped his gaze without any sign of embarrassment at her loving pet name, looking horribly fatigued.

“I’m scared of owing you any more than I already…” He cut himself short and cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Miss Dorothea. What I meant was, I depend greatly upon your support.” 

His voice had grown quiet and timid, which Dorothea couldn’t abide. She shot up from her chair, and the rattle of a chain echoed around the room. “We’re married now, so you must stop using such titles with me!” She probably didn’t like how meek he was being.

Nicks tried to protest. “B-but your family is a league above mine, Mi—er, Dorothea. You get that, right? I’m in no position to be assertive with them or you. I essentially married into your family, not the other way around.”

Both families were offering what support they could, but the greater burden fell on the Roseblades. I couldn’t blame Nicks for feeling indebted to them.

Dorothea clenched her fists at her side. “Don’t say such things!” she snapped. Then, a little calmer, she added, “Let’s make this land flourish together.” She approached him, clasping one of his hands in both of hers, and gazed at him with deep tenderness and care.

“Miss Dorothea,” he muttered in surprise.

“Dorothea,” she corrected him. “Please, darling. No need to be reserved with me.” She truly loved him from the bottom of her heart.

I didn’t doubt for even a minute that their relationship was genuine. Well, mostly. They were gazing into each other’s eyes, holding hands, which was romantic enough. The sticking point was the chain that bound them together, either end latched to collars around their necks. This would’ve been an endearing sight—a wife reassuring her vulnerable husband—if not for the collar and chain, which really kind of ruined the whole thing in my mind. It felt like something out of a TV comedy sketch.

I silently returned my attention to my meal, digging in with my fork and knife. “This boiled beef is delicious,” I said. It was tough enough that it didn’t fall apart when my fork stabbed it, but it absolutely melted in my mouth the moment I took a bite. Amazingly, the dish kept its shape properly on the plate—yet the moment I tucked it in, juices gushed over my tongue and the meat came apart, soft and tender.

While I resumed my meal, Nicks and Dorothea were lost in their own world. Nicks had bemoaned his many perceived misfortunes, but in the short time he’d been married to Dorothea, she had already twisted him around her finger. He was a changed man. To me, though, he looked all the happier for it, so I was glad for him. If this was the relationship they wanted, I was loath to advise them otherwise.

I swallowed the bite of beef, which I’d barely needed to chew, and turned my attention to Marie. She’d been silent through the entire exchange. When my gaze landed on her, she’d just finished scarfing down the last of the meat on her plate.

“I thought it was odd that you’d been so quiet,” I told her. “You must’ve been too focused on the beef.”

They had served us generous helpings, but Marie stared at her empty plate forlornly, as if she hadn’t received enough to eat. “I was surprised at how perfectly it was cooked. I’ve prepared beast meat before, you know, but it’s not the same. Anyway, I’d like another helping.” Marie was less concerned with proper manners than with filling her own stomach.

I smiled tightly. This was just like her. “I envy you sometimes. It must be nice to be so focused on your gluttony that you can ignore the tension in the air.” I turned to my brother. “Nicks, sorry to ask, but could you get some more of that meat for Marie?”

Nicks broke eye contact with Dorothea. Still clasping her hand, he shifted his gaze to me. “Sure. I think we can do that.” He paused and glanced at his wife. “Do you, Dorothea?” Her name sounded awkward on his tongue.

Her cheeks flushed. I was shocked that she had any bashfulness left when they both wore collars with a chain binding them together.

“Certainly,” said Dorothea. “One of you servants, attend to our guest.”

The servants providing the dinner service paused, glancing at one another hesitantly.

Dorothea’s brow furrowed. Assuming that the servants were displeased with her for making the unusual demand—insisting on more food than one had been given was poor decorum—she repeated her orders with more emphasis. “Did you not hear my orders? This lady is part of my family now, and there is no need for propriety between family members. She should be given the second serving she desires.”

A man whom I assumed to be their butler strode toward Dorothea. His lips were pinched together, as if reluctant to elaborate on the servants’ lack of willingness. “My lady,” he said haltingly, “we actually…already gave the young lady all the meat we had prepared.”

“Excuse me? Surely you made more than what you put on our plates,” Dorothea shot back, shaking her head in dismay.

The man stole a glance at Marie, mopping the sweat from his forehead with a white handkerchief. “No… I mean, we already gave her seconds. And thirds. And fourths.”

“What?” Dorothea blurted.

She and Nicks turned to Marie. I found myself staring at her, too.

Marie poked her tongue out and knocked her fist against her forehead as if this were a minor slipup. “I, uh, actually asked for more while you three were locked in conversation earlier.” The way she spoke and acted was adorable, but what she’d said had all three of us reeling. 

As her betrothed, I had to scold her. “You seriously asked for more without conferring with the host first? Learn some self-control, would you?” I heaved an exaggerated sigh, annoyed.

“I couldn’t help it! The food was delicious!” Marie protested. “Since leaving my family, I’ve sampled all kinds of delights, but let me tell you, this meat dish is in my top three of all time.”

“Your family…” Dorothea leaned forward, intrigued. “You mean the Lafans, yes? I heard a bit about them from Deirdre. It seems that you had an awful home life.”

Marie had more or less been treated like a servant by her family. Worse, actually, when you considered that servants were at least paid and fed. 

Any ordinary person would’ve been reluctant to revisit the details of such childhood trauma, but Marie reflected nostalgically, “Thinking about it now just makes me mad. My older brother and sister were treated so much better than I was. Today, I realize that part of why they misused me so badly was because our servants had run away. They needed someone to do household chores, or their whole lives would fall apart. I had just reached an age when I could do most of those chores, so maybe that’s why they treated me as they did.” Marie shrugged. “Well, doesn’t really matter now.” She acted so nonchalant about being used as a maid by her own family.

But Dorothea couldn’t dismiss what she’d heard as easily as Marie wanted. “It doesn’t matter?!” she repeated, outraged on Marie’s behalf. “You were their child, the same as your siblings, and you were discriminated against. Shouldn’t you feel more resentment? More rage at their foul exploitation?”

Marie tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling as she racked her mind for those memories. “It does piss me off,” she acknowledged. “But they’re strangers to me now, so who cares? I mean, the worst part of it all was that they didn’t feed me. They’d make sure they had food, of course, but they never provided me any! Isn’t that completely ridiculous?” She dropped her gaze to Dorothea, seeking agreement.

“Y-yes,” Dorothea stammered back. “It’s most certainly inexcusable.” She hesitated and added, “Though I don’t think that’s the most inexcusable part, it’s certainly unjustifiable. A parent should feed their child. If…if I may ask, how did you survive?” Her voice’s pitch dropped a bit lower, as if she knew that what she’d asked was insensitive but couldn’t control her curiosity regardless.

Neither Nicks nor I could interject. We were both stricken by the grisly details of Marie’s upbringing. Marie, however, seemed oblivious to our anguish on her behalf. She cheerfully went on and answered Dorothea’s question, describing her days in the Lafan household.

“From a very young age, I ventured into the woods surrounding our house to find my meals!” she declared. “I pored over the books in our library on edible wild plants and memorized them all.”

Dorothea’s mouth fell open. “Y-you ate weeds?!” she cried, shocked.

Marie gave her a judgmental look and wagged her finger. “There’s no such thing as a weed. Not really. Each plant—save for, perhaps, newly evolved ones—has its own name. Oh—but there are a bunch that aren’t really edible, even though they aren’t poisonous. I can’t tell you how many times I found myself on death’s door.” She sighed, then stared off into the distance.

Meanwhile, I felt like I’d heard a traumatic horror story I’d have preferred never to know.

Marie must’ve noticed the sympathetic looks she was receiving. Flustered that she’d dragged down the atmosphere, she tried to employ a more cheerful tone to lighten the mood. “Oh… But as soon as I was old enough to go deeper into the woods, I could at least eat meat. And once I got better at hunting, my diet really improved. I could finally eat wild animals. It was a real pain needing to take them down, though. A lot of effort on my part.” She tried to make the tale humorous, adopting a joking tone.

Nicks covered his face with one hand, a sob escaping his lips.

Dorothea sat there, brow wrinkled and lips taut. “You…taught yourself to hunt?” she clarified.

“I did. No one else was going to teach me. I read books and studied,” Marie said.

“I-I see.” Dorothea gave her a bewildered look. She’d probably had no idea that her curiosity would wind up exposing the darkest periods of Marie’s life. Her expression was contrite, as if she was genuinely sorry for pressing Marie, but the worst was yet to come.

“Actually, speaking of hunting, the most delicious thing I caught was squirrels,” Marie went on. “I mostly hunted those because they were one of the safest things.” She licked her lips, remembering the taste.

Dorothea gaped at her in disbelief. “Squirrels?! Y-you mean those cute little woodland creatures? A-and…you ate them?!”

Beside her, Nicks stared at Marie wide-eyed. We Bartforts had certainly been impoverished, but we’d never lived in the brutal conditions Marie faced as a child. Hers had been far worse than ours ever were. 

It was strange, then, that she had a look of pure bliss on her face as she recalled her roasted squirrels. A tendril of drool very nearly ran down her chin as she replied, “I was always so excited when I found a squirrel in one of my traps. They’re a great source of protein, and they taste good. What could be better?”

That’s all she sees when she looks at a squirrel—a great source of protein?!

“Animal pelts sell for a good price, so with the money I earned from them, I could afford to buy myself secondhand clothes,” Marie explained. “But there were many times I faced danger in those woods. Boars and bears are ridiculously strong, you know. It’d take me half a day just to kill one.”

She battled boars and bears out there?! Suddenly, I understood why Marie’s fists packed such a punch. Still, I had to ask. “Did you really kill boars and bears on your own?”

“Of course not. Not on my own. You can’t take on one of those without risking injury to yourself,” Marie clarified. “I’d go after ones that got caught in my traps. That’s what I meant, though. Even injured and at a disadvantage, they took half a day to kill. But it was worth it for their delicious meat. Better yet, I could sell their hides and nab a brand-new set of used clothes.”

What the hell does that mean? If they’re used, they can’t be brand new!

Dorothea pressed a hand over her mouth and beckoned a servant over. I was startled to see that our hostess’s cheeks glistened with fresh tears. It took a lot to make someone like Dorothea cry.

“Y-yes, my lady?” said the servant. 

The help were as taken aback as us by Marie’s stories. Some of them had dissolved into tears, too.

“Please have more beef prepared for the young lady—Rie, I mean,” Dorothea clarified, now addressing Marie by a pet name. “Boiling anything to make it tender would take too long, but you could come up with a steak quickly enough, couldn’t you?”

Bashful, Marie scratched her head, her cheeks flushed. “Do you really mean it? Aw. I feel bad, like I strong-armed you into this.” She apparently felt guilty for imposing.

That wasn’t the issue! Your traumatic childhood was! Anyone would pity her after what she’d been through. Not only had she not received parental love like a normal child, she’d been treated as less than a servant and forced to fend for herself. I’d never known that it was quite that bad. 

I stared at Marie, lost for words.

Nicks unfastened the collar around his neck and shuffled toward me. He put a hand on either shoulder and squeezed a little too tight. “Leon!” his voice boomed.

“Wh-what? That hurts, by the way,” I said.

Nicks gave me a conflicted look. Some part of him was still furious at me for landing him in his current situation, but he seemed to swallow his hostility. “Look. There’s still a lot I’d like to say to you. I really wanted to pummel you. In fact, that’s why I invited you to dinner. I figured I’d throw a bunch of passive-aggressive barbs at you, then end the meal by smacking you.”

That would have been incredibly uncalled for. I was his adorable younger brother. How could he entertain such ill intentions toward me?

“But…!” He inhaled deeply, trying to rein in in his fury. “I’ll set aside my grievances.”

“Uh, okay?” I said.

“In return, you have to make Rie happy,” Nicks went on. “That’s all I ask.” A few stray tears traced paths down his cheeks.

Honestly, he didn’t have to ask; I genuinely wanted to make Marie happy. Although, frankly speaking, how mentally tough can one person be? After all I’d heard, I realized how resilient she was, having grown up without any real support. She looked fragile, but she was tenacious. Like a military commander from the Warring States period.

When a servant came in carrying a plate of steak, Marie’s face lit up. As soon as they set the dish down in front of her, she took a knife and fork in either hand, ready to dig in. “Yay!” she exclaimed. “I can’t wait!” She began cutting into the steak, tucking chunk after chunk into her mouth.

Dorothea slipped out a handkerchief and dabbed away her tears. “Eat as much as you desire.”

Despite having reduced our hosts to weeping, Marie was completely preoccupied with her steak. She didn’t seem the least bit upset over all the trauma she’d detailed to us. How tough was she?

I decided then and there not to let her revisit her past again with others. She’d been too unfortunate, both in this life and her previous one. If what she’d said was entirely true, then as I understood it, a guy she’d dated in her previous life had killed her. She’d apparently had a daughter, too, though the two were forced to live apart. What could she possibly have done to warrant all that bad karma?

At one point, I’d thought to myself—jokingly—that Marie must be cursed. But having heard the depths of her family’s depravity, I started to think that there was no joking about it. She was cursed.

Yet, despite everything she’d endured, Marie grinned ear to ear, cheeks bulging as she chewed her steak.

I should’ve asked the priests on that Japanese-inspired island we visited to exorcise her, just to be safe.