Some Context

Diane wasn't entirely sure how exactly she made it home; she was lost in her own thoughts, scouring her memory for any hints on what happened in the game.

The main character attended a school for magic and sorcery, which were two different things. Apparently. There was another subject, but it was just forgettable enough for Diane to not remember it at all. Shit. Some kind of potions class?

Wait.

Magic had been banned in Etienne. There had been a whole war against it with the Magic Tower's archmage; Diane had read three whole books about it, all of them painfully biased against the Magic Tower.

The former Emperor, Gladius's father, had outlawed it for whatever reason, and the violent crackdowns against magicians and sorcerers pushed them to create their own country. The Magic Tower Sovereign Territory was built upon what had once been an enormous plain just north of Ustoff, the country that dominated the continent's south.

But then the Archmage redrew maps by raising mountains out of flat ground, and how could anyone go to war against someone who literally moved mountains? It had happened at the very beginning of Gladius's reign, and that...

Must have been a severe blow to his pride. Even if Etienne wasn't formally at war with the Magic Tower, there was no way that the two nations were on good terms.

So why exactly was the game set in a school for teaching magic? It didn't make sense. Was the school even in Etienne?

No, Diane couldn't get sidetracked by the politics of the matter-- she needed to remember what happened in the game.

'Player Character goes to magic academy,' she scribbled down on a loose sheet of paper in English-- there was no way she'd risk having someone read her notes. 'And then???'

And then, if she remembered correctly, the Player Character met four male leads-- and a fifth one, hidden until all the other routes were complete.

The first, as she was well aware, was her fiancé Theodosius D'Etienne. Crown Princes were always male lead fodder in these kinds of things-- power and good looks tended to seal that particular deal. The player character had charmed by being innocent and... maternal, right?

Right! A whole plot point had revolved around her baking him homemade cookies, which Lilith...

Crushed under her heel. Nothing new there; the whole reason why Diane abandoned that game was because of how overdone it was, to the point of being cheesy. At the very least it was predictable.

Next, there was some mercenary who'd managed to enter the academy for the purpose of becoming a knight. He... ran Lilith through with his sword, if she remembered correctly, and fell in love with the player character for her gentle demeanor and delicate frame. Of course.

Then there was an alchemist-- that was it, alchemy! It covered potions and poisons and antidotes, because in that route Lilith tried to poison the player character, and was caught by that male lead. Diane couldn't help but wonder why exactly Lilith was such a bitch to this player character, when her route had nothing to do with Lilith's own relationship in the first place.

Whatever-- anyway, the fourth target had been a teacher, which allegedly wasn't weird because all the characters started at this academy at the age of 20. Diane still didn't buy that: why would a teacher, regardless of age difference, romance a student? Wasn't that just an abuse of his own power? Ew. Sure, she'd dated one or two of her advisors back in law school, but that was different.

Maybe. She may or may not have scored an internship for it.

Anyway, fifth one... the fifth one, she still couldn't quite remember. A prince from another kingdom, Diane knew, still struggling to figure out why he'd been a hidden target. He had something to do with Lilith, more so than the other characters, but what, exactly, she still couldn't parse.

She still had no idea what any of them looked like. Handsome, probably; twinks, definitely, but what male lead in a romance game wasn't? That was part of the fantasy. Regardless, if she wanted a long life in this bizarre fantasy world, it seemed that the best course of action was just... not bullying the player character.

Diane leaned back in her chair, facing the ceiling of the library that had become her second home. That couldn't be everything to it. Was it really this simple? 'Don't be a bitch'?

She wrote down 'Don't be a bitch' in her notes, if only to have her thought process written out. She was missing something; but then again she still had five months before the beginning of the game.

Plenty of time to prepare.

___

After over a month of living as Lilith Seraphine, Diane was invited to a family dinner. She strongly doubted that it would be enjoyable-- if she had any other family aside from her father, they'd made no attempt to visit or contact her after she'd awoken from a fever, and that...

Was sad, actually. No wonder Lilith's character had clung to the Crown Prince so much in the game; if her own family treated her like this, who else did she have?

But she wasn't Lilith anymore. Diane had no attachments to the people who ignored her for a month. They were strangers, as far as she was concerned, and that gave her the advantage.

The dining hall was as luxurious and spacious as she had imagined, with flickering chandeliers and a long table built for parties. Even family dinners had to be stuffy and formal, then.

She was the last to arrive, finding Lilith's father, red-headed and tired looking, along with two younger people, a man and a woman-- siblings, maybe. Diane took the empty seat.

"Is the Crown Princess finally deigning to join us?" Asked the man, another red-head, with green eyes and a sneer. Already choosing violence-- so this was how dinner would go.

"I'm sorry," Diane began, fully milking her lack of memory, "May I ask who you are?" She turned her eyes toward the woman, a fellow red-head, noting just how... homogeneous the group looked. So Lilith was the black sheep.

The maybe-brother looked aghast, turning toward Lilith's father. "Seriously?"

Duke Seraphine sighed, before taking a sip of his wine. "I believe I told you about this, Donovan. Lilith, this is Donovan, the duchy's successor, and Camilla."

Ah. So that was that. Hell of an introduction. Donovan, as he was apparently named, turned toward Diane, confused. "You don't remember me."

"My apologies."

"What about Camilla?" Donovan gestured to the woman, who only stared down at her plate, expression blank.

Diane knew that kind of expression-- a quiet passivity that begged to be ignored. Perhaps Lilith wasn't the only black sheep. "I'm sorry," Diane began, sincere at least to Camilla, "I'm afraid that I remember nothing. We're related?"

A silence descended upon the table; servants took that moment to set their plates down for the first course. "You're our sister," Camilla finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes never left her plate. "We're family."

"'Family' is a strong word," Donovan scoffed, "We happen to be related by blood."

Oh, okay, so Donovan was going to keep starting fights. Two could play at that. "That would be the definition of family," snarked Lilith, taking a bite of her salad, "But if you're that adamant about it, I'll allow it."

This seemed to only set the brother off further. "You'll 'allow' it?" he began, stabbing a piece of lettuce with his fork. "Just like how Father 'allowed' you to take Mother from us?"

Did this boy not understand the meaning of 'amnesia?' "Apologies, I'm not aware of that story, either. If you could please enlighten me as to what I did?"

God, was Diane just poking at him at this point? Donovan bristled, visibly furious. He slammed his fist on the table, and his sister flinched. "Our mother died giving birth to you; and here you are, a carbon copy of her. It's like you're mocking us."

Wh-- seriously? Lilith was twenty years old. He'd kept this flame going for two whole decades? Shit, Diane thought she could hold a grudge. "So I'm guilty for the sin of being born." Her voice took on the flat tone of a person who knew they were speaking with a fool. She used it often with her clients, back as a lawyer.

"You murdered her," Donovan seethed, glaring daggers at her.

Did he think that she'd be cowed by a mere glare? Diane had handled worse in court. "Murder requires intent," she countered, "Do you believe that an unborn child is capable of murderous intent?"

Camilla stifled her laugh with a cough, and in that moment Diane realized that she had a silent comrade. It was a comforting feeling. She took a bite of her salad as Lilith's idiot brother contemplated her very simple question. "Don't twist my words," he managed, "You killed her."

"Childbirth is a common cause of death in people with uteruses," Diane shot right back, "I take it that you blame all of those motherless children for their circumstances, as well?"

Donovan scoffed, seeming to have found a good comeback. "You think we're common? Like some commoners?"

Oh, dear. This man was to be the successor to the family when he couldn't even parse between two different words? Suddenly the future for the Seraphine duchy looked bleak. "Donovan," Duke Seraphine finally spoke up, staring his child down, "Let's not insult the Crown Princess, especially seeing that tonight is an occasion for celebration." He raised his hand toward a maid, who presented a wooden box embossed in gold. "The Emperor sent this as a gift to the Seraphine family," the duke smiled, and how fascinating that a gift sent to Lilith specifically had been designated for the family as a whole.

Diane had had more than her fair share of credit given to others back at her law firm: she still felt red hot fury whenever she remembered how Christopher Turin had made it to partner based on her evidence, her industry experts, and her questioning of witnesses. To think that all that lost sleep had been for nothing; the smarmy 'thank-yous' he'd shot her way was just salt on that wound. She felt her hands clasp her silverware, hard.

The Duke gleefully opened the box, green eyes sparkling as he discovered its contents. "Children," he said, breathless, "Look."

Turning the box around, Diane saw two heavy-looking pieces of jewelry: one tiara, with delicate metalwork and enormous emeralds that shimmered in candle light; and one necklace, strung with lavender pearls with one enormous tear-shaped opal at the center.

"Just look at these," Duke Seraphine cooed, gingerly lifting the tiara from the box and turning toward Camilla, "You should wear this at the next royal gala."

Unbelievable. The unabashed favoritism at play-- Diane wanted to stand and leave then and there, but was glued to her seat by decorum. At least Camilla had the decency to be uncomfortable, glancing Lilith's way. "Father, those... I don't believe that those are for me."

Duke Seraphine turned to Lilith, realizing his mistake. "Oh. Right, of course." He set the tiara back in the box and touched at his already-immaculate hair. "My apologies, Lilith."

"It's fine," Diane lied, thankful to be a stranger to this dysfunctional family, "If I'm not wrong, those pieces belonged to the Second Empress."

"Typical," Donovan scoffed, "Of course you remember jewelry over your own family."

"I read about them two weeks ago, in the library," Diane retorted with a smile, "Which is where I am, all the time, when I'm not in my room. You would know that if you have 'deigned' to visit me." A pause, so that Donovan could savor the taste of his own medicine. . "Then, perhaps I would have known who you are."

Once again, Donovan was lost for words. Still-- what a gift. In that box were two pieces of history, hundreds of years old. Diane still remembered the tale of the Second Empress. She was a genius sorcerer, before sorcery had been outlawed, and had been killed by demon from the myth of creation; devoured by the very demon she'd summoned.

...Just as Lilith had been devoured by a demon, Diane realized. Bile rose to her throat, thick with horror. In every single solitary ending of the game, Lilith's character had been overtaken by a demon and turned into a war machine.

She stared at the tiara and necklace in a new light. They glimmered in the low light, and rather than entranced by their shine Diane grew disgusted.