"And I'm guessing that's the end of that," the system's voice came.
Stephen watched from the side of a narrow alley, eyes locked on the back of the grand banquet hall. From there, he had a clear view of the courtyard where Tello stood, or rather lay, now pinned to the ground by royal guards.
"It was good while it lasted though," Stephen muttered, stepping further into the alley.
"Still, hurts to see the boy done like that," the system admitted.
"He's a smart kid. He'll figure things out." Stephen replied, still moving.
"What was even the reason you took him in?"
"I'll eventually need an architect for the job... and honestly, I was thinking about ways to bring him along. But at the end of the day, that's how it goes. Sacrifices have to be made."
"Is that so?"
Stephen nodded. "Yeah... I was trapped in the banquet. Putting him on the swivel was the only way to get out of that mess."
Then, quieter. "He'll be fine, though. As long as he pins it all on me, says I threatened his family or coerced him or something. He shouldn't get into any real trouble."
"So this is your way of looking out for him."
"Yeah." Stephen glanced one last time toward the banquet hall, catching a glimpse of Tello's figure through the cover of darkness. "He's better off alone... I'll find a way to get him some money later, enough to take care of him and his mom. Before I head to Rennes."
The system didn't reply. It simply listened.
Stephen turned and began walking down the alley, arms folded. "Building the brothel and getting it running should take about two or three months. Though there's still the issue of finding a noble whose name I can build it under."
He exhaled. "Then, there's finding another architect. And a manager trustworthy enough to wire the funds while I'm in Rennes for Claris's route."
He scratched his head. "This is... a lot."
He kept walking, lost in thought. Around him, the only sounds were the chirps of crickets and the soft croaks of frogs beneath his feet, but other than that. It was silent.
The system's voice broke that momentary quiet.
"Can I ask you a question, Stephen?"
Stephen slowed, but kept walking. "What?"
"I went through your memories during your displacement at the banquet. And while I couldn't see what you hadn't... like the moment of your parents death. I saw how it changed you."
Stephen didn't respond.
"It turned you into a loner. You went to class, then headed straight back to your dorm. You never talked to anyone. And I've always wondered, for someone with so much charisma here... why were you like that back there?"
"What are you getting at?" Stephen finally asked.
"Why do you suck at making friends?"
Stephen twitched. "I so do not."
"You have horrible social awareness, you can't understand context clues and while you have proven you understand how people think, you sure as hell have no idea how they feel."
"Is this because of Tello?"
"Of course it is," the system snapped. "The boy obviously wants to understand you. He wants to follow you. And you're trying to push him away."
"I'm going into risky territory. There's no reason to drag him into that kind of mess."
"Even when he wants to follow you?" the system shot back. "Even if it's his decision?"
"Please." Stephen scoffed. "He's only here because I manipulated him into it. The brothel building won't be made for another two or three months, so there's no point in stringing him along any further."
"You think he's only here because of that first conversation you had?" The system muttered, "You think that's the reason he's followed you, and laughed with you and even shared a room with you?"
Stephen glanced to his side. The system didn't have a corporeal form, but still. It felt like he was talking to someone he could see.
"What else would it be?" Stephen said. "He wants money to help his mom. That's the only reason he's still here."
"You're more dense than I thought." The system's voice turned cold. "And for the longest time I blamed your parents death for making you a shut-in. But that was a lie. You've always been like this!"
"Why are you suddenly attacking me?" Stephen asked, coming to a halt.
"Because you're a socially inept gremlin who doesn't know how to read a room!"
The system sighed, voice softer now. "He wants to follow you because he wants to be your friend, because he wants to know the real Stephen, not the one tucked behind the charm and the wit. But the real you."
Stephen glanced at Tello. The guards were dragging him back toward the banquet hall, his heels scraping across the dirt. Even from this distance, with barely any light, Stephen could see his face, and the boy looked heartbroken.
"Even if that's the case!" Stephen said, looking away now. Cheeks slightly reddened. "I've put him in enough trouble as is, him going to prison is in his best interests. He can't be hurt in there and if he pins it all on me, they'll let him go."
"And what if he doesn't want to be safe?" the system pressed. "What if all that matters to him is being by your side?"
Stephen didn't say anything, he only continued looking at Tello.
"Do you think he's not prepared for the consequences of his actions? For the repercussions of the choices he made? You can protect anything you want Stephen, but you cannot control them."
Still, nothing.
"In a game, when a character dies, it doesn't hurt you. I mean, you could always reset, try again. But Stephen—" the system said, voice gentle, "the greatest things in life... are the ones you can't restart. Or control."
Tello was nearly at the banquet doors now, guards yanking him step by step.
"He made that decision to follow you. To see where your mad ideas and silver tongue would take him. That's what he wants." The system paused. "So who are you to take that away?"
Stephen didn't say anything, he'd been read like a book, maybe more literally than figuratively.
"And who are you to suppress what you want, either?" the system added. "You want him to follow you. You want to know him, too, don't you?"
Stephen hesitated. Then finally, "Maybe..." his voice barely above a whisper. His cheeks still warm.
"Then do what you want to do." The system said. "Your emotions are the truth, never try controlling that."
A moment passed, short but somber.
Stephen exhaled through his nose. "For a bodiless spreadsheet," he muttered, "you sure know what to say."
"Of course I do," the system replied with a smug tone, and if it had a body, no doubt both hands would be planted firmly on its hips like a superhero. "Before I was turned into a system, I was an infallible deity!"
"Guess you fell, eventually." Stephen chuckled.
"And this is where my advice ends. Jump off a bridge, you socially inept imp."
"How did we go from gremlin to imp?" Stephen grumbled, then sighed. "I'm sorry, okay? Sheesh."
"So what are you gonna do?" the system replied instantly.
Stephen blinked. "That was fast."
Then he turned his eyes toward the banquet hall, where the guards still pulled Tello along.
Even if Cruige, his instructor back at the palace was the most capable of them. A single royal guard was still a better fighter than he currently was, mostly due to the fact he hadn't invested much, if anything into his strength and magic.
Could he be blamed? In the main game, there weren't any battles he needed to make or take. It was a romance game and the most he ever came to fighting was during the palace training sessions.
"Seven of them," the system muttered. "Including Cruige... that's tough. How do you plan to break it?"
"I have no idea," Stephen muttered. "What about your real body? You're a deity, right? Can't you bring it out again and fight them?"
"It doesn't work that way. The sheer amount of mana needed to remake my body is atrocious. The only way it even manifested in that memory world was as an illusion."
"So you're useless." Stephen shook his head.
"You're equally as useless," the system retorted.
One of the guards left Tello and ran up the wide steps to open the grand entrance. As golden light began to shine through, Stephen glanced back at Tello, still in the other guards grasp, his face lowered to the floor.
"Did you capture him?" Lucien's voice rang out from within.
"Yes, sir!" the guard replied, then began returning to his group to help carry Tello up the stairs.
"Good," Lucien said. "As long as he gives us information on my brother, maybe he'll be useful."
Their feet hit the steps. One after another, they pulled Tello toward the banquet doors. But just as they reached the final step, the one that would carry them into the hall.
A slam echoed across the pavement. The sound of hooves, like gunfire, tore through the quiet. Closer and closer.
Tello heard the thump, but didn't raise his head. He could barely care about what was going on around him.
And then came that ever familiar voice.
"Look at me, Tello!"
Tello's eyes shot open. He glanced at his side, to see Stephen on horseback, barreling forward below the steps, hand outstretched.
Tello didn't say anything. He simply turned back toward the doors, letting the guards hasten their steps, dragging him in.
"I'm sorry for lying to you!" Stephen shouted. "I'm dumb and stupid and I thought I was doing the right thing!"
"CLOSE THE DOORS!" Lucien screamed. "He cares about the boy, this is my chance!"
Tello stood just at the entrance, golden light gleaming on his face as the doors creaked inward. The guards released him and bolted toward the handles.
Stephen rode past the middle of the steps, hand still outstretched as they locked eyes.
"I thought I understood everything," Stephen yelled. "What you wanted. What I wanted. But I didn't know anything at all. I'm sorry!"
And just before the horse passed the last of the steps.
"Please, Tello." Stephen said,
"I don't want to do this without you."
.
.
.
"That's all you needed to say," Tello muttered and with that, his heels kicked the floor and he dashed forward.
Lucien gave immediate chase, hand lunging toward Tello's back, fingers curling around the seam of his shirt.
The banquet doors were closing.
Both edges creaked in fast, nearly sealing, but just before they did. Tello slipped through.
He dove past the entire flight of stairs, hanging in mid-air for a moment, then slammed onto the back of the horse.
And the two sped off into the night.
"Open the doors!" Lucien screamed.
The guards struggled to push them back, and as they finally burst open, Lucien stormed through, racing out to the steps.
He stared into the dark.
"I think they're gone, Prince Lucien," Cruige muttered beside him.
Lucien didn't answer. His jaw clenched, hand doing the same. If it weren't for the hundreds of noble eyes watching him from the ballroom, his fist would've likely ended up in someone's face.
Instead, he turned, composure returning with a soft exhale.
Behind him, the nobles had all gathered at the edge of the balcony railings, some still lingering on the dance floor.
He should've never screamed, or lost his temper to begin with, it was unsightly of him, and Silviette, standing in front of the crowd let him know with her eyes.
Lucien stepped forward with a soft exhale, placing a hand over his chest, eyes lowered. Regret settled across his face like a veil.
"Honored guests of tonight's banquet," he began, his voice controlled to tremble just slightly. "I sincerely apologize for my outburst, for raising my voice and for making any of you feel unsafe in any way."
The nobles glanced among themselves, murmurs already beginning to ripple.
Another exhale.
"Unknown to the public is that my brother, the third prince... was kidnapped earlier this week," Lucien continued, perfectly somber. "I was tasked with finding and returning him safely to the kingdom. So when I saw him again..."
He paused. Just long enough for the silence to stretch.
"So when I saw him again," Lucien lifted a hand to his face, covering it. His voice cracked just enough. "I wanted him back so badly... I couldn't contain myself."
"Oh, Prince Lucien!" one noblewoman gasped. "You've been suffering in silence all this time!"
Another chimed in. "You had every right to be upset!"
Even Silviette stepped beside him, placing a delicate hand on his back, to help sell his regret.
But only she was close enough to hear what he muttered under his breath:
"The next time I see Stephen..." Lucien's gray eyes burned beneath his hand.
"...I'll kill him."