The ride back was surprisingly calm. Antoinette was freezing me out, sure, but who cared about that when her and Étienne were getting along so well? They discussed their favourite moments from the night, then other plays that had a formative impact on them: Étienne liked one (whose title I couldn’t even begin to pronounce) because it showed him what true honour was, and Antoinette circled back to Madame Saphir with Ophelia Ingenue, saying how it got her interested in fashion and taught her how appearances were vital yet deceptive.
Didn’t she tell me she was in a touring production of Ophelia Ingenue? Surely the play meant more to her than that.
I watched the city roll by, answering politely and unhelpfully when Étienne tried to pull me into the conversation. A veneer of politeness made their words taut and vulnerability was in short supply. Figured. Étienne was really private, so he wouldn’t push her. That was okay. For now. This night was a great start for the two of them, even if I’d fallen flat on my face when it came to my relationship with Antoinette.
But our relationship didn’t matter. Marie couldn’t save her from prison. All I had to do was stay close enough that she wouldn’t suspect me when I tried linking her up with all the guys until one of their relationships carried her safely past the ending of the game. Right?
When we returned to La Belle Lavande, Étienne dismissed his staff and we all seemed a little bit more like plain old students again as we walked to the dorm building. At the top of the enormous staircase, we parted ways.
I mentally twirled like Cinderella when Étienne gave Antoinette a kiss on the hand. I wasn’t so pleased when he kissed my hand, too.
“Thank you for your lovely company tonight, ladies.” He had a polite little smile on his handsome face, but I could hear the grin he was suppressing in his voice. What did he really want to say?
Antoinette read my mind. “Oh, don’t speak to me like I’m some cousin you were forced to dance with.”
He blushed. “I…I had fun.”
“I could tell. Once or twice, when you let yourself smile honestly, and what a smile it was.” Antoinette folded her hands and turned away. “So polite, Your Highness.”
Antoinette and I headed left to the girls’ dorms, Étienne right to the guys’. Antoinette took long strides to stay ahead of me. The potted plants that lined the hallway were bred magically and so were extra sensitive to emotions: as she passed, they curled their leaves defensively and shuddered.
I shot a glance back at Étienne. The plants in his hallway were blooming with cheery pink flowers.
I looked too long; he turned to watch us go and caught my eye. He smiled a sweet little smile and waved at me, a little awkward and pleased like any other young man.
I scurried after Antoinette. Ugh, figured! We hardly talked, but he was still smitten with me. Marie had unnerving powers as the protagonist of an otome game. She could be as bland, unengaged, and erratic as she pleased, and still, everyone fell in love with her in the way they’d fall off a cliff: suddenly, terrifyingly, and ignoring all the warning signs.
Antoinette and I stood at our dorm’s double sinks without speaking as we washed off our makeup and took our hair out of their complex styles. That first week with Antoinette had been chilly, but nothing like this. I could feel the brick wall between us.
Her moodiness sure seemed less caustic when I was only writing about it in a fanfic.
After we got into bed, Antoinette drew shut the custom curtains installed around her bed, and I snuggled up in my blankets behind the changing screen I’d set up to give us privacy. I said, “I’m going to read a little, if that’s okay?”
“Fine.”
I flicked on my light and dug out my journal from beneath my mattress. I learned a lot today about both Étienne and Antoinette that the game only skimmed over. I’d made progress! So why did I feel so lousy?
When I opened the journal, it was nothing like I remembered.
The pages were filled with colourful blocks and text and doodles–exactly like the character profiles screen in Love Blooming, except drawn with messy crayon and marker. The names were written on each person’s respective page in a hand that wasn't mine. Nor could I draw like their portraits.
I hadn’t seen the characters in their original, anime-style form in so long that they seemed so…wrong now. Not just the unrealistic proportions and colours. Everything. I looked at these portraits and saw flat archetypes plucked out of a heap of well-performing otome games of the past. Étienne with his princely sweetness, Rémi with his rough-around-the-edges grin, Louis with his self-conscious artist’s smile and big gooey eyes, and Sylvain with his perpetual grouchiness and air of sexy mystery.
Antoinette with her tiny dash of a nose, her lips (made of merely a swipe of a red airbrush pen) in a scowl, red hair a riot of shimmery waves around her face.
I remembered nights of scrolling through fanart, of making my own, of reading fic, everything. Antoinette might not have been popular with the fic-writing crowd, but her tags on Pixiv and Danbooru were flooded with gross fetish art–we’re talking toes flexed in ultra-shiny black nylons, too-short skirts, and our small-time version of MLP’s Cupcakes: a short comic where the guys take revenge on her at Marie’s behest. I will not define this comic’s version of revenge.
In this world, that part of my life sure seemed, all of a sudden…stalker-ish.
The words on the page were no better. They were more or less what appeared on the in-game profiles, written in Marie’s voice. They detailed how I met them and a vague sketch of their personality, plus Marie’s questions about them, like if Étienne would keep protecting her and if Sylvain would ever see her as something worth his time. Nothing useful…except Étienne’s summary noted how Antoinette was at the opera tonight…and they each had meters showing their approval points with me. Heart meters?
I flipped back a couple pages, chest tight.
Antoinette had no heart meter.
“Chloé?”
I jumped and slapped the book shut. “Wh-what?”
She scoffed softly. “I wanted to tell you something.”
“Of course, go ahead, Antoinette.”
With every silent second, I felt a huge weight push down on me, until Antoinette finally spoke.
“My mother last saw Madame Saphir with me when I was a child. They came from the same country, so a long time ago, she could see Madame Saphir in little garden parties or in churches. As she became more and more famous, my mother chased her around the kingdom to hear her sing. But once she married my father and left her country…she rarely got to hear Madame Saphir.”
I didn’t dare speak or even breathe, like it would spook her out of speaking.
“She was the first to hear that Madame Saphir would finally tour once more in Altolia. She…she was as cheerful as a little girl.” A small smile snuck into Antoinette’s muffled voice, like she was pressing her face into her pillow. “I had to buy tickets the instant they were announced, so we could go together. I even harassed the company helping her tour so I could guarantee our places. My mother was her biggest fan.”
Antoinette’s voice faded away.
Was. She didn’t need to say more. It must have happened recently, if Antoinette was planning on getting them tickets to see tonight’s show.
My tongue froze in my mouth. I found it so hard to speak that I was suddenly sure that I’d see a dialogue box appear above my head.
Sorry for your loss, was never right. How did it happen? was rude. Wait, do you mean she’s dead? was some sour!Marie kind of shit.
Finally, I spat out, “It…it sounds like the singer was very special to you, then.”
“Hmph.” I heard her turn over in bed, and she said sharply so I’d hear her perfectly, “I think tonight ruined her forever.”
~*~
The important thing: Romance Route! chapters will now be coming out twice a week, on Tuesdays and Saturdays! Chapter 8 will post on the 27th.
The extra thing: Thank you for reading, commenting, shelving...all that wonderful stuff. I'm a self-published eBook gal who never used Scribble Hub, so I kinda expected 2 people besides my friends to read Romance Route!. Needless to say, when I checked my stats on this site, it was kind of a jumpscare (in a good way!). This story is very self-indulgent for me, a brain-break between my serious high fantasy projects, so I'm glad to see that it can amuse others too.
As thanks, here's the first art I did of my beloved Miss Antoinette Delphine.
I'd like to draw some of the guys next, but I'll listen to you guys as to who you'd be most interesting in seeing ;)
See you next update!
The ride back was surprisingly calm. Antoinette was freezing me out, sure, but who cared about that when her and Étienne were getting along so well? They discussed their favourite moments from the night, then other plays that had a formative impact on them: Étienne liked one (whose title I couldn’t even begin to pronounce) because it showed him what true honour was, and Antoinette circled back to Madame Saphir with Ophelia Ingenue, saying how it got her interested in fashion and taught her how appearances were vital yet deceptive.
Didn’t she tell me she was in a touring production of Ophelia Ingenue? Surely the play meant more to her than that.
I watched the city roll by, answering politely and unhelpfully when Étienne tried to pull me into the conversation. A veneer of politeness made their words taut and vulnerability was in short supply. Figured. Étienne was really private, so he wouldn’t push her. That was okay. For now. This night was a great start for the two of them, even if I’d fallen flat on my face when it came to my relationship with Antoinette.
But our relationship didn’t matter. Marie couldn’t save her from prison. All I had to do was stay close enough that she wouldn’t suspect me when I tried linking her up with all the guys until one of their relationships carried her safely past the ending of the game. Right?
When we returned to La Belle Lavande, Étienne dismissed his staff and we all seemed a little bit more like plain old students again as we walked to the dorm building. At the top of the enormous staircase, we parted ways.
I mentally twirled like Cinderella when Étienne gave Antoinette a kiss on the hand. I wasn’t so pleased when he kissed my hand, too.
“Thank you for your lovely company tonight, ladies.” He had a polite little smile on his handsome face, but I could hear the grin he was suppressing in his voice. What did he really want to say?
Antoinette read my mind. “Oh, don’t speak to me like I’m some cousin you were forced to dance with.”
He blushed. “I…I had fun.”
“I could tell. Once or twice, when you let yourself smile honestly, and what a smile it was.” Antoinette folded her hands and turned away. “So polite, Your Highness.”
Antoinette and I headed left to the girls’ dorms, Étienne right to the guys’. Antoinette took long strides to stay ahead of me. The potted plants that lined the hallway were bred magically and so were extra sensitive to emotions: as she passed, they curled their leaves defensively and shuddered.
I shot a glance back at Étienne. The plants in his hallway were blooming with cheery pink flowers.
I looked too long; he turned to watch us go and caught my eye. He smiled a sweet little smile and waved at me, a little awkward and pleased like any other young man.
I scurried after Antoinette. Ugh, figured! We hardly talked, but he was still smitten with me. Marie had unnerving powers as the protagonist of an otome game. She could be as bland, unengaged, and erratic as she pleased, and still, everyone fell in love with her in the way they’d fall off a cliff: suddenly, terrifyingly, and ignoring all the warning signs.
Antoinette and I stood at our dorm’s double sinks without speaking as we washed off our makeup and took our hair out of their complex styles. That first week with Antoinette had been chilly, but nothing like this. I could feel the brick wall between us.
Her moodiness sure seemed less caustic when I was only writing about it in a fanfic.
After we got into bed, Antoinette drew shut the custom curtains installed around her bed, and I snuggled up in my blankets behind the changing screen I’d set up to give us privacy. I said, “I’m going to read a little, if that’s okay?”
“Fine.”
I flicked on my light and dug out my journal from beneath my mattress. I learned a lot today about both Étienne and Antoinette that the game only skimmed over. I’d made progress! So why did I feel so lousy?
When I opened the journal, it was nothing like I remembered.
The pages were filled with colourful blocks and text and doodles–exactly like the character profiles screen in Love Blooming, except drawn with messy crayon and marker. The names were written on each person’s respective page in a hand that wasn't mine. Nor could I draw like their portraits.
I hadn’t seen the characters in their original, anime-style form in so long that they seemed so…wrong now. Not just the unrealistic proportions and colours. Everything. I looked at these portraits and saw flat archetypes plucked out of a heap of well-performing otome games of the past. Étienne with his princely sweetness, Rémi with his rough-around-the-edges grin, Louis with his self-conscious artist’s smile and big gooey eyes, and Sylvain with his perpetual grouchiness and air of sexy mystery.
Antoinette with her tiny dash of a nose, her lips (made of merely a swipe of a red airbrush pen) in a scowl, red hair a riot of shimmery waves around her face.
I remembered nights of scrolling through fanart, of making my own, of reading fic, everything. Antoinette might not have been popular with the fic-writing crowd, but her tags on Pixiv and Danbooru were flooded with gross fetish art–we’re talking toes flexed in ultra-shiny black nylons, too-short skirts, and our small-time version of MLP’s Cupcakes: a short comic where the guys take revenge on her at Marie’s behest. I will not define this comic’s version of revenge.
In this world, that part of my life sure seemed, all of a sudden…stalker-ish.
The words on the page were no better. They were more or less what appeared on the in-game profiles, written in Marie’s voice. They detailed how I met them and a vague sketch of their personality, plus Marie’s questions about them, like if Étienne would keep protecting her and if Sylvain would ever see her as something worth his time. Nothing useful…except Étienne’s summary noted how Antoinette was at the opera tonight…and they each had meters showing their approval points with me. Heart meters?
I flipped back a couple pages, chest tight.
Antoinette had no heart meter.
“Chloé?”
I jumped and slapped the book shut. “Wh-what?”
She scoffed softly. “I wanted to tell you something.”
“Of course, go ahead, Antoinette.”
With every silent second, I felt a huge weight push down on me, until Antoinette finally spoke.
“My mother last saw Madame Saphir with me when I was a child. They came from the same country, so a long time ago, she could see Madame Saphir in little garden parties or in churches. As she became more and more famous, my mother chased her around the kingdom to hear her sing. But once she married my father and left her country…she rarely got to hear Madame Saphir.”
I didn’t dare speak or even breathe, like it would spook her out of speaking.
“She was the first to hear that Madame Saphir would finally tour once more in Altolia. She…she was as cheerful as a little girl.” A small smile snuck into Antoinette’s muffled voice, like she was pressing her face into her pillow. “I had to buy tickets the instant they were announced, so we could go together. I even harassed the company helping her tour so I could guarantee our places. My mother was her biggest fan.”
Antoinette’s voice faded away.
Was. She didn’t need to say more. It must have happened recently, if Antoinette was planning on getting them tickets to see tonight’s show.
My tongue froze in my mouth. I found it so hard to speak that I was suddenly sure that I’d see a dialogue box appear above my head.
Sorry for your loss, was never right. How did it happen? was rude. Wait, do you mean she’s dead? was some sour!Marie kind of shit.
Finally, I spat out, “It…it sounds like the singer was very special to you, then.”
“Hmph.” I heard her turn over in bed, and she said sharply so I’d hear her perfectly, “I think tonight ruined her forever.”
~*~
The important thing: Romance Route! chapters will now be coming out twice a week, on Tuesdays and Saturdays! Chapter 8 will post on the 27th.
The extra thing: Thank you for reading, commenting, shelving...all that wonderful stuff. I'm a self-published eBook gal who never used Scribble Hub, so I kinda expected 2 people besides my friends to read Romance Route!. Needless to say, when I checked my stats on this site, it was kind of a jumpscare (in a good way!). This story is very self-indulgent for me, a brain-break between my serious high fantasy projects, so I'm glad to see that it can amuse others too.
As thanks, here's the first art I did of my beloved Miss Antoinette Delphine.
I'd like to draw some of the guys next, but I'll listen to you guys as to who you'd be most interesting in seeing ;)
See you next update!
