Sixth year into this world. Things were quite alright. Well, aside from having to smack a specific brat for trying to be a pervert. At first I wasn’t going to interfere since it’s part of their story. But it didn’t sit right with me. So, I gave him a head chop.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Do you need to ask? That’s not how you treat a girl!”
“Wait, what? Huh?”
“Hah. I’m sorry about my fool of a brother, Sylphiette.”
“Wait, he’s a she? Ow!”
Well, considering it wasn’t on purpose, you can’t really blame him. Still, how did he even manage to mistake Sylphy, of all people?
Still, things had been peaceful. Until a damned old man decided it was way too peaceful.
As night befell the people of the Asuran Kingdom, my eyelids opened as my heavy body tried to crawl up for a midnight snack. However, it was too heavy, and so I decided to float downstairs. But for some reason, I was feeling off.
There was this weird feeling that something was wrong with the house. However, as I turned around to see if there was any ghost or something, obviously there wasn’t. So I shook the feeling off and floated away, nearing Lilia’s room and towards the kitchen. That’s when the door to her bedroom suddenly swung open, and a man walked out of that room.
“…”
“… Christ on a stick.”
I inevitably spat. What’s with me showing up at the weirdest and most awkward moments in this house?
“L-Laurel?”
“Ah, for fucking Jesus Christ sake of a gun, Can’t you stay alive without thinking with your lower half to cause trouble?”
“…”
…
Morning rose. I sat there, in the opposite direction of the two culprits of my dissatisfaction, sitting inside my room. I sat on the bed as if I were an emperor staring down at my subjects. Paul was on the ground kneeling, and Lilia looked entirely pale standing beside him. Where do I even start? Ah, holy fuckery. We’ll start from the beginning of it all.
Paul was a horny piece of trash and a complete loser when he was younger. And Lilia was his teacher’s daughter. When Paul ran away from his home, he was taken in by Augusta, Lilia’s dad, with the intent of having him marry Lilia and take over the dojo because of his talent in the sword.
The Paul back then wasn’t the Paul, now. As in, he was the worst. He was beat up by other guys, and Lilia took care of him. He fell for her, and one fine night he snuck into her room to do lovey-dovey things and drove her to tears with joy... Except she wasn’t enjoying it but instead was utterly horrified, disgusted, and in pain. In fear of repercussions, Paul escaped, the same way my respect for the man ran away from reality.
“… Fuck.”
“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.”
“It’s expected. I shouldn’t remain in the house.”
“No, Lilia, you stay. … Ha.”
I rubbed my temples. Calm down, Laurel. You can fix this. I thought, but honestly I just want to punch him. But being a mere six-year-old meant that my punches aren’t going to do damage. So I’ll leave that punch in my debt list. So, how am I going to break the news to Zenith?
I could just tell her as is; I mean, it’s not like things would go badly. After all, despite all his flaws, Paul is a reliable person, at least in Zenith’s eyes—Ah. Oh shit.
The memory of Zenith bawling out crying the day I returned home flashed. Would she really think of Paul as reliable?... Tch. Damn it, Laurel. Why did you have to make such a mess over something so trivial?
I scrunched my face, thinking of the other option. Then again, I could let this slide and leave everything under the rug. After all, Paul was trashy, but he wasn’t the utterly irredeemable type. Paul would definitely keep his words, and nothing would follow, leaving it as an uncomfortable memory that no one wants to talk about.
That said, the subtle reality that Lilia might have gotten pregnant by now remains. Considering that Zenith was pregnant from the first shot, this sure-shot daddy has a high chance of having already planted the seeds.
… I mean, I could punch her in the gut with a cleansing spell and it’ll be the end of it, but the thought of having a little reddish-brown haired girl running around calling me as big brother is… Ehehe. I wonder what would having a younger sibling be like? Ah, wait. No. That's not the point here.
The point was that for a happy ending, Zenith had to be aware, and despite being aware, she had to somehow wholeheartedly agree to forgive Paul… while letting Paul marry two wives—despite the fact that Zenith's Milis faith was telling her the complete opposite… Fuck. I feel like trash. But what else can I do?
After all, letting this family break down wasn't an option. Well, maybe someone would say just do it, but I can't. I wasn't exactly supposed to be here in the first place. So it's wrong to change the original novel to my whims. I am, after all, a spectator.
I thought about the words I have to articulate to get the result. Now that you mentioned it, when was the last time I had this sort of complicated philosophical talk? Ah, right, that time we had a conversation about it and my conversation partner… suicide. I swear I could feel sweat dripping down like bullets.
“Right, I have a Rudeus!”
I jolted up from the bed, startling both Paul and Lilia. Right, why should I be worried? I have the protagonist to save my ass. I stiffly walked outside of my room. But just before walking out of my room, I returned and gave Paul a kick.
“I’m not doing this for you; I’m doing this for Aish—Ow! Damn it. Why are you so hard? Urgh, whatever."
And I left, heading towards Rudeus. We had this long-ass conversation where I myself claimed that I was a prophet who could see the future and that Paul had already impregnated Lilia and that our family was going to end. More than half of the conversation was a lie, but it did its job.
What came later was a conversation between Zenith and Rudeus in the room where it happened, which was something that I—an entirely socially awkward person with nearly non-existent social skills—could only admire.
The door to the room opens, and Rudeus walks out.
“Hey Ru—"
“Laurel? What are you doing here?”
… Only that person wasn’t Rudeus but Zenith.
“Mom, what brings you here?”
I said, my voice cranking like a duck. Fuck. I messed up.
“… Nothing. I had a little chat with your brother. That’s all.”
She said with a smile, but she wasn’t exactly happy.
“Laurel”
“Yes, Ma'am!"
“…”
“…”
… Fuck.
“Where’s your father?"
I pointed the way, selling Paul out without an ounce of guilt or hesitation. Paul deserved it anyway. The fact that we managed to escape this hurdle without severe consequences was, in itself, a miracle.
Karma is a bitch that takes more than it gives. I pray that you survive your own ordeals, Paul.