As they approached the wooden doors with golden engravings around them, the two maids stopped — one bowed, while the other opened them before bowing as well.
Realizing it was his room, Granbell entered.
The prince's chambers dripped with decadence. Crimson drapes cascaded from the ceiling like waterfalls of blood, trimmed in gold thread and bound by chains instead of cords. The marble floor gleamed with the reflection of chandeliers shaped like hanging crowns, each candle burning with a faint red tint.
Weapons—ceremonial, polished beyond use—lined the walls beside portraits of the prince himself in fake victory. Every corner of the room screamed arrogance: a mirror taller than a man, framed by carved lion heads; a bed so vast it could fit three, draped in silk dyed the color of gold; and a desk buried under scrolls of unfinished decrees—or more so, tasks he'd never do—sealed with wax before anyone could dare touch them.
Even the air reeked of luxury — myrrh and rose oil clinging to every inch, disguising the faint metallic scent of steel. His plain silverish armor rested on a mannequin like a statue of war itself, the cape still bearing faint ash stains from his last campaign — in which he was merely a decorative figure before the game's start.
This wasn't a room meant for sleep, but a shrine meant to flatter one man's ego — Granbell's ego, who was now, in reality, Nathaniel.
Incredible.
Something like this, I'd only see in soap K-dramas.
Playing the game, I was constantly on the battlefield, so I never even saw this room. Man, missed out on some great roleplay…
"Well then, M'lord." The maids entered just behind me, half closing the doors. The brown-haired maid already started unbuttoning her black corset, which in turn supported her white maid's dress.
Granbell raised his hand to cover his eyes almost immediately. "Y-YOU—WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"
She curiously raised her head while the other maid closed the doors and turned around with a tired look.
"Of course, M'Lord. Is it not time for Master's entertainment?"
"Entertainment—What kind of entertainment..?" he asked, not realizing what was happening as she continued undressing.
She bluntly said, "Sex."
"WHA—!?" He yelled out, making both of them flinch back.
"M'Lord?
He covered his mouth, realizing his mistake. Sex? He wasn't expecting something like that. As he took a few steps back, his legs intertwined, making him fall down onto the bed.
Crap— I can't act out of the ordinary..
The maids got closer and closer. His heart quickened with excitement and fear. Of course, an actual tyrant prince—or someone who'd want to cosplay as one—wouldn't mind in the slightest.
As the brown-haired maid put her leg between his thighs and leaned in, he couldn't help but overthink how to avoid this predicament. Since everything up until this point was an act — all in vain for his people to not realize something, someone had changed.
Because then, he'd lose the only leverage for survival he had.
Fear.
Nathaniel—No… Granbell… Take a step back, think rationally. You just commanded the whole court to get ready for war, you can lie your way out of something as stupid as this—
As the maid moved her lips closer, he closed his eyes.
THINK— What would Nathaniel playing as Granbell do? What would I have done if this were a game?
…Wait, that's simple.
As he closed his eyes, he moved in closer, his heart still hammering against his chest as her gentle palm hovered over it.
That's right, stop thinking so hard. All I need to do is think as Nathaniel, playing as Granbell. And if that's the case, then…
I'm finally losing my innocence today!?
As their lips touched, he felt a slight stutter — just a faint tremble.
Opening his eyes, he noticed that the maid's brown eyes were half teary.
In an instant, he gently pushed her back and smiled, throwing a blanket against her half-naked body.
Even if I were playing as Granbell… I'd never force a cute girl to do something like that. What a bad hobby, that's what Loli223 would do…
Besides, get it together Granbell, you don't have time for this.
"M'Lord, did I do something… wrong?" she asked, her whisper trembling as she gripped the blanket tightly. The other maid raised her eyebrow, stopping with her skirt halfway down, her chest already visible.
"No, not in the slightest. Yours, both of yours…" He glanced at the other maid, feeling a slight regret for stopping. "Services won't be needed today. I need to be alone for the time being, would that be alright?"
She nodded as she stood up.
"Please, get dressed and you may leave."
They both bowed. "Yes, M'Lord."
Was Granbell supposed to do this sort of thing in the game before it started? I never really read his biography… I just liked that he was a fire-oriented offensive mage.
As they got dressed and prepared to leave, he tried ignoring them while looking around specifically at the plain armor, one last bow was given before the doors creaked open.
Feeling his throat a bit dry he raised his hand at them and coughed a bit
"Ah— A second please."
The brown-haired maid turned around, thinking it was a jest all along.
"Could you bring me something to drink, please? Anything works."
She stood silently, waiting for more. "Is that… all?"
He nodded.
Her face almost lit up with a small smile, making Granbell's heart skip a beat.
"Understood."
With that, they left. Granbell's fake smile immediately dropped into a frown. "Alright, finally. Alone. Now," He patiently waited before he could not hear their steps anymore, then-
"WHAAAT!? CROWN OF BARBARIANS HAAH!? ME!? WHY!? HEY ANYONE!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M SUDDENLY INSIDE THE GAME!? AND NOT TO SPEAK AS THE TYRANT PRINCE!? HELL, YEAH, I LOVED PLAYING HIM, BUT LIVING AS HIM IS A DIFFERENT KIND OF PUNISHMENT!!!"
He yelled out, pointing at the ceiling, pouring his frustrations out to—he hoped—God.
Realizing he wouldn't get an answer, he flopped face-first onto the bed.
"If they realize I'm not the tyrant prince… Hell, the starting date is one thousand two hundred and fifteen — the tyrant prince of Vermillion is the hardest path in the game since it's just a month before his execution… How am I supposed to survive this?"
Rolling around the bed, he realized it was incredibly soft as he climbed up to the pillow and leaned against it.
"Ah… Comfortable."
As he had only slept on the ground before, such bedding took away all his worries for just a second.
"How was I even transmigrated… Why me? Does that even matter? No… the only thing that matters right now is survival. Understanding, returning home… ahh, all that can wait after I survive the first month." He nodded to himself. "That's right, all I need to focus on is that."
His lips pursed slightly. "Sorry, Mom, Dad… I promise I'll find a way home. But for now… really, realllly… the only thing I can focus on is that."
Then his arm raised, palm open.
"And the first step towards it is…"
He hesitated. "…System."
A chime echoed — faint, yet heavy. The air rippled like glass touched by wind.
[System Initialization: User Identified — Granbell Vermillion, the crimson tyrant.]
[Loading… The crimson tyrant's system - 1%]