Chapter 3: “The Spark of Jealousy”

The Redwyne estate's grand hall was a spectacle of opulence, with crystal chandeliers casting prismatic light across polished marble floors. It was here that Lord Redwyne hosted his monthly gatherings, inviting neighboring nobles to discuss politics, trade, and—most importantly—marriage alliances.

Aizen, now six years old, stood in the corner of the hall, holding a tray of hors d'oeuvres. His tiny stature made him nearly invisible among the towering adults, which suited him just fine.

"Master, your posture is atrocious. You resemble a disgruntled garden gnome," Vermis remarked, its telepathic voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm a servant, not a statue. Cut me some slack," Aizen shot back, adjusting his grip on the tray.

Stephanie, dressed in a frilly pink gown, flitted between guests like a butterfly on a sugar high. She was the center of attention, as always, her laughter ringing through the hall like a wind chime in a hurricane.

"Aizen! Over here!" she called, waving him over.

He sighed and shuffled toward her, dodging a noblewoman's voluminous skirts. "Yes, my lady?"

"Try this!" She held out a bite-sized pastry. "It's delicious!"

Aizen eyed the pastry warily. "I'm on duty, my lady. I can't—"

"Eat it!" she demanded, shoving it toward his face.

Reluctantly, he took a bite. The pastry was indeed delicious—flaky, buttery, and filled with some kind of magical fruit that tingled on his tongue.

"Good, right?" Stephanie beamed.

"It's… adequate," Aizen said, though his taste buds begged to differ.

Her smile faltered. "You're so boring sometimes. Why can't you ever just enjoy things?"

Before Aizen could respond, a commotion near the entrance drew everyone's attention. A group of newcomers had arrived, their presence commanding immediate respect. At the forefront was a boy around Stephanie's age, his silver hair gleaming like moonlight and his piercing blue eyes scanning the room with an air of regal indifference.

"Master, that's Elias Draycott—the game's first capture target," Vermis informed.

"Great. Just what we need—a pint-sized prince charming," Aizen muttered.

Elias's gaze landed on Stephanie, and he approached with the confidence of someone who'd never been told "no."

"You must be Lady Stephanie," he said, bowing slightly. "I've heard much about you."

Stephanie tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "And who are you?"

"Elias Draycott, heir to the Draycott duchy. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Aizen resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he's smooth. He's probably been practicing that line in front of a mirror.

Stephanie, however, seemed unimpressed. "Hmph. You're late. The party started an hour ago."

Elias blinked, clearly not used to being challenged. "My apologies. My carriage was delayed by… unforeseen circumstances."

"Unforeseen circumstances? How inconvenient," Stephanie said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Aizen bit back a smile. Atta girl.

Elias recovered quickly, flashing a charming smile. "Perhaps I can make it up to you. Would you care to dance?"

Stephanie glanced at Aizen, her expression unreadable. Then she turned back to Elias and smiled sweetly. "No."

The hall fell silent. Even the musicians seemed to pause mid-note.

Elias's smile faltered. "I… beg your pardon?"

"I said no. I don't dance with strangers."

Aizen could practically hear the sound of Elias's ego shattering.

"Master, this is highly irregular. In the game, Stephanie is immediately charmed by Elias," Vermis said.

"Guess the script's already changing," Aizen replied, feeling a strange mix of pride and dread.

Elias, to his credit, took the rejection in stride. "I see. Perhaps another time, then."

As he walked away, Stephanie turned to Aizen. "He's weird. I don't like him."

"He's a noble. They're all weird," Aizen said.

Stephanie giggled. "Not you, though. You're my weird."

"Master, her attachment to you is intensifying. This is concerning," Vermis warned.

"Tell me something I don't know," Aizen thought, watching as Stephanie grabbed another pastry.

Later That Night

Aizen's duties didn't end with the party. After the guests had left, he was tasked with cleaning the hall—a tedious chore that involved scrubbing wine stains and picking up discarded napkins.

"Master, your efficiency is abysmal. At this rate, you'll finish by dawn," Vermis said.

"I'm six years old, Vermis. My arms are approximately the size of toothpicks."

"Excuses are the refuge of the weak."

Aizen was about to retort when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see Stephanie, still in her party dress, holding a plate of leftovers.

"I brought you food," she said, holding out the plate.

"My lady, you shouldn't be here. It's past your bedtime."

"I couldn't sleep. Besides, you looked hungry."

Aizen hesitated, then accepted the plate. The food was cold but still delicious—roast meat, cheese, and a slice of cake.

"Thank you," he said, sitting on the floor.

Stephanie sat beside him, her skirts pooling around her. "Do you like working here, Aizen?"

The question caught him off guard. "It's… a job. I don't really have a choice."

"But if you did have a choice, what would you do?"

Aizen thought for a moment. "I'd travel. See the world. Maybe learn more about magic."

Stephanie nodded, her expression serious. "When I'm older, I'll take you with me. We'll go on adventures, just like in the story."

Aizen smiled faintly. "That sounds nice."

For a moment, they sat in companionable silence, the only sound the crackling of the hearth. Then Stephanie leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Aizen… promise you'll never leave me."

The words sent a chill down his spine. Here it is, he thought. The first red flag.

"I'll stay as long as you need me," he said carefully.

"Good. Because if you ever leave… I'll find you. No matter where you go."

Her tone was light, almost playful, but Aizen knew better. The seeds of obsession had been planted, and they were already taking root.

"Master, this is highly problematic," Vermis said.

"Yeah, no kidding."

As Stephanie drifted off to sleep, Aizen stared into the fire, his mind racing. The game's storyline was unraveling faster than he'd anticipated, and he was running out of time to steer it in a better direction.