An unwilling muse

"Fate? You offend me, Rosie. After all the strings I pulled and cut just to see you, and you call it fate?"

-Sebastian Verde to Rosanna Castus; Secret Route

***

The next few days in detention were spent doing odd tasks.

So far, Rosanna had cleaned the hallways, written three more papers on business-related affairs and analysis on courses offered by the Academy (the professor kept assigning her different topics from everyone else), and was able to learn how to prune weeds from the Academy's premises. All disciplinary measures somehow translated to manual or mental labor — although Rosanna couldn't blame the Academy for wanting to be efficient.

On a personal level, she understood why the activities were supposed to make them "repent". All of these kids were raised in aristocratic households — aside from the papers, physical chores were beneath them. It was no different from watching privileged kids get acquainted with the struggles of the real world and to be honest, Rosanna was living for it.

There was something about watching these puffed-up nobles get down on their asses and work. Sure, Rosanna was still included in the punishment, but this was nothing compared to what she had to endure at the Maures.

And compared to her first life…well, this was paradise.

"You seem awfully delighted for someone being punished," Viola said, during one of their lunches. Since the incident, Viola had taken it upon herself to sit at Rosanna and Vincent's table.

Naturally, this meant that Damian and Leo joined them too, as the Crown Prince continued to "live out a normal life" unbothered by the trifles of royalty. Whatever made him think that sitting next to the main characters would help him disappear from the spotlight had to be made of pretty strong stuff, because Rosanna saw it, there was no way anyone could be THAT stupid.

"It's not that bad," Rosanna gave up trying to understand him, turning her focus back on Viola. She didn't want to tell the villainess that she thrived on seeing other students cry over something stupid, like prickling their dainty fingers with a splinter or complaining about aching feet. But maybe that would give them something to bond with. Rosanna wished they could.

"I heard they were making students do work," Leo added, ever the fixture in Viola's side. He'd procured a slice of cake out of nowhere — freshly baked, from what Rosanna can see.

She reached out with her fork to take a bite, only for her to be smacked away by the butler. The plate slid next to Viola, in a very aggressive manner that says 'no touch'.

"It's nothing compared to the work I do back home," Rosanna puffed up her chest in pride, trying her best to make it seem like the past few minutes never happened. She didn't even like cake. Or what looks like a very delicious slice of red velvet.

Viola seemed to notice this and proceeded to slide the cake to Rosanna. "I see," she said, with a somber look on her face that Rosanna couldn't quite comprehend. "In that case...does Isabella and her friends still bother you?"

The butler stared Rosanna down, challenging her to take up his lady's offer.

'Do it, his expression seemed to say. 'I dare you.'

Rosanna faked her tears and used her fork to take a huge bite out of the cake. "Well, they haven't exactly bothered me..."

The whole table waited. Rosanna deliberately took another bite of the cake, which made Leo's eye twitch in anger.

"...but they seemed genuinely afraid, Miss Viola," Rosanna said, her voice coming out clear despite being mid-chew. One of the graces of being used to the hustle, she supposed, having to take calls in-between lunches in her old life. "They're under the impression that I have hired help at my disposal, ready to make them disappear upon command."

Rosanna could laugh about it now, but she would never forget that fear that ran through her body when Isabella and her goons cornered her that one afternoon. They had been in the middle of pruning, and despite her best attempts to mind her own business, the girls still somehow found a way to get her alone.

Isabella herself carried a huge pair of garden scissors, while the rest of her goods carried a wheelbarrow and a shovel. At first, Rosanna thought that her time had come and that she was going to die a second time just like this - to be used as fertilizer for the Headmaster's garden.

Imagine her surprise when the three girls sank to their knees (down to the muddy soil too!) and begged for Rosanna to put in a good word for them, claiming that they have been 'good girls' who learned their lesson. That there was absolutely no need for another 'nightly visit' from the so-called helper, and if possible, could Rosanna please just forgive them and forget about their existence?

"It's crazy," Rosanna said, inhaling the rest of the cake. "They sounded so distressed that I wanted to help them, but the girls didn't want to take it to the Headmaster, or anyone else. It definitely couldn't have come from me. Mister Royal Guard would've already found me out, no?"

Vincent choked at the nickname, to the point that the Crown Prince had to tap his back just to help clear his airway.

"Someone's harassing them under my name," Rosanna concluded. There was no other way around it. "It's probably a secret admirer or some sort, wanting to defend my honor—"

It was Leo's turn to choke on the air.

"—or it could be a hater," the Crown Prince interjected. He looked at Rosanna the same way a scientist might refer to a particularly questionable specimen. What a coincidence, that he would now decide to take part in their conversation. "Don't tell me it never crossed your mind that someone might be trying to frame you as some kind of mastermind."

He had a point. But the Crown Prince had missed one, crucial detail:

"Impossible. Everyone loves me," Rosanna spoke with certainty, in the same manner, she would declare water as wet.

She was already eating lunch with the villainess, for fuck's sake — who else could've harbored such ill intent?

This time, Leo finally found it in himself to laugh, as though Rosanna's statement was so blasphemous that it melted whatever was choking him in the first place.

Damian cut in:

"Your jokes are too funny, Miss Castus," he laughed along with Leo, so good-natured and lighthearted. Rosanna didn't get it. Since when did she joke?

Thankfully, Viola was quick to help her restore her dignity. "Miss Castus," she began, "pardon me if this would sound a little too intrusive…but do you know anyone else who might have been following you?"

Rosanna stared at her now empty plate, debating whether or not it was possible to ask for another serving. "I don't know…" she said.

It was the truth.

The idea of a secret admirer was…flattering at first, and there was the feeling of living a fantasy she's always indulged in as a teen — a silent protector rooting for her in the shadows. But the way the Crown Prince put it made Rosanna all too aware of the million possibilities that could be lurking around the corner, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

Now that Rosanna and Viola were friends…what if another villainess shows up as her foil? What if, just by sitting here and eating lunch with everyone, Rosanna has somehow opened up a secret route that went beyond her knowledge of the game?

"Could it have anything to do with that Sebastian person you're looking for?" Vincent broke the silence. He sounded so concerned that Rosanna almost felt bad for using him to get in someone else's route.

Almost.

Leo jolted from where he sat, slamming down his utensils so hard that people around them turned their heads. The look he gave Rosanna was sharp — feral, even — as though accusing her of a crime.

"I thought you said you didn't know him?!"

"I don't!" Rosanna shot back, keeping her composure despite the million questions running through her mind. The drinks spilled from their table, little streams of water flowing in her direction. She didn't even realize Leo had gotten up from his seat until she was straining her neck to look up at him.

She blurted out: "But you do, don't you?"

This made the butler sit down, probably growing conscious of the attention he was getting. To be fair, Rosanna wasn't thinking as she said it, but now that she had - it made sense. Maybe there was some backstory behind him and Sebastian? Some easter egg she missed out on?

Leo's mouth set into a hard line. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Rosanna wasn't stupid. She'd always known that Leo didn't take her presence kindly, but she would have to be dense as fuck not to wither just a little bit at the murderous glances she'd send her way from time to time. The way he'd panicked as if he immediately knew Rosanna had a reason to turn the tables on Viola back at the hot chocolate incident, the skepticism which he always showed with Rosanna, then to the charged questions, he'd ask once in a while, clearly indicating some hidden past…

Could it be that he was aware of his status as an NPC?

Rosanna only smiled, keeping a tight lid on the multiple possibilities bursting at the top of her head. "It has to do with everything."

Leo opened his mouth to say something, then, after apparently noticing the presence of other people at their table, thought otherwise. He stabbed his food with a fork. "I-I'm only taking precautions." He lowered his voice, "Everyone knows the Verdes are…"

He let his voice trail off, probably out of consideration for his status as a servant. The Crown Prince only nodded like he understood, while Rosanna and Viola only looked at each other in confusion.

Vincent suddenly spoke up, "Well, upon checking, I did hear some questionable rumors…"

This caught Rosanna's attention.

"…most of it is related to their jurisdiction at the empire's high court. Some people say that Sebastian Verde only passed because of his father — the Chief Justice — pulling ranks on the headmaster demanding for his son to be accepted." Vincent whispered, careful not to let anyone hear. "And that's not the worst part."

The royal guard did another double-take on his surroundings before he continued: "I heard…he has this weird habit. Always sketching headless maidens, like he was fantasizing about beheading one. I saw it myself. I would hate to agree with Mister Cassius, but…he's right."

Rosanna opened her mouth to speak, but decided against it. Technically, it's exactly how Sebastian was in the game, but the way Vincent described it put some things into perspective.

She never considered the possibility of that person being more fucked-up than he was in-game, the same way Leo turned out to be an unromanceable little shit, and the Crown Prince was heavily prejudiced against the idea of marrying. How worse could reality be?

"Pardon me for asking," Leo intervened, shifting the attention back to Rosanna, "but may we know what are your connections with a person like that, hm, Miss Castus?"

'Petty', Rosanna thought. 'What a petty, petty man.'

Rosanna laughed nervously. "I just happened to hear about him." At this, the butler's face went deadpan.

"What, am I not allowed to partake in gossip?"

"Quite a difficult feat, I imagine," the Crown Prince added. "Given that most of the gossip has been about Miss Castus these days. They even have a nickname for you, now. Would you like to hear it?"

This made Rosanna sit at the edge of her seat, excitement flooding through her entire body like a burst of caffeine. No one's ever given her a nickname before! In her old life, she would be lucky if people remembered her name, instead of her position.

Viola was called the Ice Princess, Damian Vespera was the Crown Prince (incognito), and Rosanna was…

"—Cyrilla's black rose."

Rosanna dropped her utensil. Across from her, Leo had gone as pale as chalk.

She met Leo's eyes, and there was no mistake: there was a hint of recognition there, perhaps even fear.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

"Sounds like a pompous title," Viola joked, breaking the silence. Everyone laughed along with her, except a certain butler.

***

The next time Rosanna went to serve her time in detention, Isabella and her goons already picked their next victim.

At least, that's what it looked like at first glance — Rosanna had automatically assumed that these girls had nothing else to do but harass other students. The three of them had encircled a poor student at the corner of the classroom, crowding them.

It was supposed to be their last day doing community service, and Rosanna had prepared herself for everything including a silent afternoon turning in another one of those 'reflection essays', to plucking the weeds surrounding the dorms by hand.

She did not prepare to be surrounded by easels and paints, bringing back her memories of half-hearted attempts in pursuing the arts back in 9th grade. It was a short-lived dream, thinking that she could draw her favorite characters, but she supposed she never really had what it takes to go pro, the same way she never had the guts to go after anything she wanted in her first life.

Rosanna plopped at one of the chairs, doing her best to appear put out. Maybe, if she pretended not to like the activity, the professors would make her do it more.

"…you really shouldn't," she could hear one of Isabella's goons saying, their voices growing louder by the second.

"…but I had this activity arranged just for that," another voice replied. Whoever it was sounded frustrated like they'd already spent a long time arguing with the girls. Rosanna pitied them a little bit.

"Believe us! That girl is nothing but trouble! Haven't you heard—"

"—oh, I heard plenty. That's exactly why I'm here. If you may, please just let me—OH!" There were shuffling noises until a student emerged from the little vulture circle Isabella and her goods had going on.

"Hello!" A boy brushed past Isabelle and made his way toward Rosanna.

An uncharacteristic smile broke out of what Rosanna usually recognized as a somber, and cold face.

"Miss Castus! Over here!"

"I-what—"

He put a hand on Rosanna's shoulder like they were old friends meeting each other again after a long time. His dark eyes sparkled.

"Don't be such a stranger, Rosie! It's me! Sebastian!"