Episode Seven

< Orelei

< Charisma 1/10

< Grace 0/10

< Dancing 0/10

< Music 0/10

< Speaking 1/10

< Knowledge 0/10

< Alignment: Neutral>

The man with the white mutton chops stands as silent as a sentinel at the door. It's…unnerving. My father's nose crinkles in confusion, or, possibly, he truly does find me that revolting. "Ceremony? That ceremony?"

I feel mildly anxious at the words. Glancing to Eliza and our mother, I note that my mother looks rather angry, while Eliza looks rather pleased with herself, like a cat that was given its deserved cream.

I think my mother and Eliza are truly hoping that I'm about to become a human sacrifice.

"My good sir," I say, beseechingly, "Perhaps there has been some mistake…I know naught of any ceremony that you speak!" I smile, hoping that I look less nervous than I feel, though, I doubt it.

The gentleman, whom I do not recognize at all from the game I had been playing, sighs, as if he is very tired of having to explain something so simple to the simpletons. "My Lady Orelei…His Lordship wishes you to be wed this very evening. As the Archbishop is already here for his…" - he glances at Eliza, whose face is falling and clears his throat before continuing. "As the Archbishop Phillips is already here, His Lordship believes there is little point in delaying the wedding any further."

The wedding…that I thought he surely couldn't be serious about.

A wedding to the Lord of Death.

Oh, Orelei…what have I done?

In the game, Orelei had always been quiet and unassuming…she was the perfect daughter who would have married the Archbishop.

Instead…I had to go and open my big mouth, ruin Eliza's wedding, and throw off any potential I had of living out my time in the game as a mild, unremarkable side character, watching Eliza romance all of the desirable Lords of the land.

Eliza starts dramatically sobbing again, much to my annoyance. I turn to her to tell her to quiet down, but, she speaks first. "Please, Whimbly…please, tell Lord Corromoth to reconsider!" Whimbly's face is unmoved by her cries. She looks up from her hands, tears glistening on her face like diamonds. Still, no reaction is visible from the manservant as she wraps the rest of us around her finger and manipulates us.

Yes…this is beyond pathetic.

Somehow, she believes it is a fantastic idea to keep going. "Tell him I would be the perfect wife…I am unsullied and pure, unlike my sister! I would bear his children and do anything he asked of me…please…tell him to reconsider…I beg of you!"

The man - "Whimbly," I presume - clears his throat and looks back at me. "My Lady, we mustn't keep Lord Corromoth waiting…he has already order Ladies in Waiting to prepare your bath before the ceremony. We must make haste."

He bows, respectfully to me, as I turn back to my parents. "I will speak with Lord Corromoth. I will see that Eliza's marriage and honor are restored. I vow it, mother," I say, though the words come out more as if I am begging her. She sneers at me and turns away as Eliza sobs harder.

Whimbly holds out an arm for me to take and I allow him to escort me through the halls of the castle. My family now hates me, my sister's honor was ruined…at this point, what did I have to lose? And, it was the best opportunity I would have to speak with Lord Corromoth and beg him to marry my sister instead. Whimbley escorts me to the massive bathing chamber that I know His Lordship keeps. I have had to drag and heat many buckets of water here to fill his bath before.

…er…Orelei did…Not me…

Whimbly gently lets go of my arm and bows before me, though not as low as he likely does for the General of the Dead. "If I may, my lady," he gently speaks, his voice a whisper to make sure no one else can hear our conversation. "The Lady Eliza would not be a good wife for His Lordship…she is gentle and kind. She wants nothing more than peace for our kingdom…His Lordship is not the same."

I blink at him, his meaning slowly creeping up on me. His Lordship isn't a good person. He would be too rough for Eliza…He would hurt her…all her quests for perfection and he only would choose war.

And, if I don't marry him…

I nod to Whimbly. He could be lying. But, I have the feeling that, of the few people whom have spoken to me, he is the most kind. I have to accept that and trust my instincts.

If I go through with this wedding, I risk a gruesome, horrible death.

If I don't go through with this wedding, I risk a gruesome, horrible death!

There really aren't a lot of good options in this scenario.

But, the option I know I have to chose is simple: marry the Lord of Death and find Eliza a proper suitor.

Oh, if only this had happened in my playthroughs, maybe I would have more guidance…

As if on command, the System hears me. In it's overly cheery white and pink screen, the happy beep startles me.