An Otome Game’s Burikko Villainess Turned into a Magic Otaku Vol 3 Chapter 4

Note: Please don’t read it in the little pop-up for the reader. For some reason it doesn’t reflect my later edits (which I often make a lot of after publishing), so please click ‘view original’.

Today is my older sister Déborah’s wedding ceremony. Despite constantly talking to me about marrying into power, she married a solder of commoner’s birth. My stepmother and stepbrother were against this marriage, but my father was on Déborah’s side and realised her wish.

That Déborah was wearing a normal wedding dress, and not her usual lantern-like dress was a little relief for me. It seems that Désirée’s tastes have also gone from lanterns to normal dresses recently. I wonder what on earth happened to my two sisters…

Well, let’s leave that aside… Today, Camille was wearing a refreshing, ice-blue high waist dress. I’m bothered that it’s a little short, but it suits her quite well. Her normal clothing is usually a robe, so it’s a rare chance to see her wearing a dress like today. Today, her magic tattoos are gone. They were gone during the entrance ceremony as well, but… Once Camille erases her tattoos, the fact that men immediately turn their gazes to her is boundlessly unpleasant. Even though they normally don’t even pay her a glance. In particular, the groom’s friends who probably don’t know about her are sending her gazes, bold to the point of obviousness. Camille is still Camille, you know. Even though it’s be fine if she ignored those gazes… why is she looking back at them each time? These guys have enough momentum that it seems they’ll approach Camille at any moment now, so I embraced her and restrained them.

After the wedding ceremony, the reception was being held at our villa. Until the reception begins, a c.o.c.ktail party is being held in the garden… But. Camille who’s walking beside me is acting suspiciously. The fact that she’s been glancing at the c.o.c.ktails for a while now has not escaped me.

“I-, I’m not going to drink, you know. I’ve already decided not to drink anymore, after all.”

It seems that she’s recalling that incident at the entrance ceremony. However, seeing the desirous gaze she was turning to the c.o.c.ktails, it might just be a matter of time before she retracts her statement. I decided to get her something else to drink before that happens. Fortunately, there’s a table with non-alcoholic c.o.c.ktails prepared nearby. I’d have have Camille wait a bit, and I’d procure a drink for her I decided.

Since it was right there, I expectedly thought it’d be okay, but… Having gone to get a drink for Camille, I was splendidly surrounded by n.o.bles’ daughters. For them to be fine with this kind of thing even at my sister’s wedding is… I gave my tongue a small, unnoticable click. Of course, these women know that I’m engaged to Camille. That’s why these women… are probably aiming for the position of the future Marquis Rhodolite’s mistress. There are many n.o.bles with mistresses like my father in this country. Earlier, even Camille said that it would be fine to keep some mistresses, after all; it’s that common a thing. It’s not rare even for both husband and wife to have other lovers.

“Hey, Achille-sama. Won’t you have a little chat with me?”

Go away. Camille’s waiting for me nearby, but you can see that, right…? They probably have too much confidence in themselves. Camille is also a beautiful girl, but normally she acts like a weirdo so the daughters of n.o.bles probably don’t even bother with her.

“Sorry, my fiancée is waiting for me.”

“Isn’t it fine to talk for just a little?”

“To be married to an oddball marquis’ daughter, Achille-sama is pitiful…”

This is how normal society sees me. Even though I’m the one who pushed for the engagement, for some reason people sympathise with me wherever I go.

“It’s a beautiful gathering, so n.o.body would blame you even if you let down your hair a little.”

No, this is my sister’s wedding, you know? To do that in a gathering of n.o.bles, how bold you’d have to be.

“Sorry, I also have things to do, so at some other time.”

“Geez, please don’t say something so cold!”

One of the n.o.ble daughters clung to me even more. In truth, after bringing Camille, I have to go greet people you know… I am technically Déborah’s younger brother, so I have to go around and greet the guests. I did so before and after the wedding ceremony, but there are still others left. Even though this is small scale, we’re still n.o.bles so the number of guests is no joke. Thanks to my stepmother’s showing off, even n.o.bles we aren’t even close to are attending in huge groups. This n.o.ble’s daughter is one of them. As you’d expect, His Highness didn’t show up, but he sent words and a gift of congratulation.

“Achille-samaa”

The stubborn n.o.ble daughter wrapped her hands around my arm. Was she the second daughter of the Wazzurri viscount family, again…? If I remember correctly, amongst the n.o.bles’ daughters, she has the nicest face, but her pridefulness and pushiness practically spills out of her. You could say that it’s hatred for my own kind, but at the very least, I can do things a little better than her.

“We did get this rare chance to meet after all… Isn’t it fine?”

As if it’s fine! Seriously, give me a break; what are you going to do if Camille misunderstands? Even while this was going on, I was still worried about Camille, so I unconsciously turned my eyes her way but…

“…Not there.”

Camille wasn’t there.

“Camille?”

It couldn’t be that she got jealous and walked off somewhere?

“…It’s nothing surprising. It’s Camille after all.”

But then I’ll be worried about where she disappeared to. Could it be that she’s gone to talk to the soldiers from before, or could it be…?

“Mn?”

On the table, right where Camille was sitting, was an empty drink gla.s.s. I got a bad premonition.

“Hey, Achille? The fiancée who’s in the way is gone, so let’s go.”

While I was worrying about Camille, Viscount Wazzurri’s daughter continued talking to me without giving up. All the other n.o.bles’ daughters have been pushed back by her good looks and forcefulness.

“Please let go, Miss Wazzurri.”

“My, you don’t have to speak so distantly. Please call me Elenore.”

…I probably won’t call you that all my life.