"Are you in love with Lady Camellia?"

My hand slipped on the thin handle of my teacup, and it went splashing across its saucer.

I attempted to mop it up with a handkerchief, trying to compose myself.

"What are you suggesting, Rixton?" I couldn’t believe that this buffoon with his dopey eyes and mop of unkempt hair had become so insolent.

He shuffled in his position in the doorway to my family's study, his shoulders raised to his earlobes.

It was an off day for both of us, as I had no classes at the academy that day, but he had knocked on the door several minutes earlier and dropped that question without much preface.

"Just…the way you look at her. It's different from the way you look at anyone else. You normally act a bit cold, but when you look at her…it's almost tender."

I couldn’t believe this was happening. "You're talking nonsense." 

“I only noticed because I’ve been watching closely.” He bit his lip. “I’ve never seen you treat anyone like this before.”

Rixton had only known me for several months, if you considered when I had taken over the heroine’s body, but perhaps the blanks of our childhood together had been filled in by whatever deity concocted our current scenario. 

"I don’t see how it is any of your concern.” Time to change the subject. “Anyway, are you free? I could use an escort into the city. I want to go shopping."

I didn’t really need an escort, and I didn’t really want to go shopping. I just needed some time to talk to Rixton and see if he wanted to overthrow my father. If he was impudent enough to question the lady of the house who he was sworn to protect, then he was impudent enough to question the king's reign.

Rixton’s face drooped, and I could practically see downturned puppy ears on his shaggy head. I could tell my apparent closeness to Camellia bothered him, but that was not my problem.

“Of course, my lady. I will always go wherever you need me.”

As the carriage jostled us, I took the time to examine Rixton, who was sitting across from me fiddling with the edge of his guard uniform. 

Although my opinion of Rixton was generally low, I decided to inject a little empathy into my thought process to try and understand him. It was a little sad that he had finally been adopted into a family, only to be made to hold the position of bodyguard from a young age. He was of common birth, so I supposed even the influence of the heroine’s father could not gain him the status of a noble. But still…to be made to look after a little girl while barely older than her yourself and train mercilessly day in and day out to serve and protect her…I would not be surprised if he secretly resented me.

I did not retain any memories of the heroine’s life before my soul ended up in her body. It was almost as if everything beforehand was indeed fabricated, that the game “began” as soon as Asa and I took our places like pawns on a chessboard.

But then, what about my own memories? My memories of being raised a prince, of discussing war strategy with my father, of slicing straw dummies in the rain with a sword too big for my childish body? Of noticing the pink-tipped ears of the girl who was to become my betrothed?

Was that all fabricated too?

I leaned on my hand and gazed out the carriage window. If we were pawns, who was controlling us? Was it really the owner of the mysterious voice Asa had spoken of? Or was there someone else working behind the scenes, trying to gain some greater outcome?

“Lady Raine?” I looked over at Rixton. His voice was anxious, almost pleading. “What are you thinking about?”

I pondered whether I should try and butter up to him to get him to reveal his secrets, but decided it was out of character in my current persona. “I was wondering if you resent me.”

His legs jerked as if he were prepared to stand in the moving carriage, suddenly leaning towards me. His butt was half out of the seat. “My lady! I could never!”

“You were adopted into our family, but you’re not treated like family. Your position is unstable. You are neither a commoner nor a noble, and you are forced to rely on the charity of my father. Do you ever aspire…to more?”

As in, did he want to become a noble? Did he want to become king of the country…?

Rixton’s eyes were trained on me, unflinching. The anxiety was still there, but there was something else flickering in their depths.

“Of course I aspire to more. If possible, I would become your knight…”

I remembered the books on knighthood I saw him paging through in the library, feeling relieved. Knighthood was a special sort of honor outside of the class hierarchy. Not only that, but it would require loyalty to the king.

“My lady, I…” He bit his lip. “I would be very troubled if we were really family.”

What was that supposed to mean? I turned my head and focused once more on the blurred scenery passing by.