I Will Break Off the Engagement Because I'm Jealous - The Untalented Villainess Who Rejected the Prince Searches for a Safe Haven with the Cheat Heroine - Chapter 6.11

“Cheers!”

The banquet began with a toast. Wooden tankards clinked together roughly. Plates were crowded onto several tall tables, with numerous barrels of alcohol lining the walls. The corner of the castle had become like a town tavern. Companions moved about, clinking glasses, each beginning to eat the food. There should have been several noble daughters present, but all of them were completely lacking in restraint or ladylike behavior. The garden members who had been waiting in the castle and preparing this banquet mixed in, creating a boisterous atmosphere.

Notably, my superior (Dian) wasn’t present. I’d expected him to sneak in somehow, so this was surprising.

(As expected of an otome game. They have a toast custom. The contents are ale, I suppose? Not chilled beer or anything. More importantly…)

“Emilia, drink up!” “Never had alcohol before?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

I answered without thinking.

(…Should I really be drinking this?)

I gulped audibly with a dry throat. Staring at the tankard’s surface, I furrowed my brows. Emilia is currently 16 years old. By kingdom law, drinking is NG; by empire law, it’s gray area; but for “Emilia” who’s fudging her age, it’s OK—that’s the situation.

Emilia’s earnest reason sounded the alarm: “You shouldn’t drink.” Despite everything, she was raised to become the queen, the epitome of a noble lady. As a kingdom princess, she couldn’t disgrace the duke and duchess who raised her, nor the king and queen. Her hand holding the tankard trembled, and Emilia clenched her back teeth.

(Hah—! That’s not it. Right now, I’m “Emilia,” so I have to drink it! Otherwise, my lie will be exposed!)

Emilia’s eyes glittered strangely. She twitched her nose at the sour scent of alcohol.

(That’s right, this is for infiltration! To hide my identity! I must drink! Here goes, otherworld booze! Bottoms up!)

As a reincarnated person, she was ready to take on any drink. The tankard’s rim approached her mouth. Slowly tilting it. Her lips moistened. Liquid touched her teeth. Her tongue savored the smooth sensation.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm!”

Like a broken dam, a massive amount of alcohol poured down Emilia’s throat all at once.

“Whoa, impressive drinking!” “Don’t push yourself, Emilia!”

Unconcerned by her companions’ cheers, Emilia continued pouring the tankard’s contents from her throat to the pit of her stomach.

(The alcohol content is low! Lukewarm, with zero throat sensation! But it’s thick and tasty! Alcohol! It’s hitting my brain hard!)

Slamming the tankard’s bottom onto the table with a thud, Emilia rudely wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. With steady eyes turned toward the wall, she headed straight for the barrels. Pouring her second drink generously into the tankard.

(Gwaaah! Alcohol is delicious!)

The reason of the epitome of noble ladies, the kingdom’s beautiful princess had been utterly defeated by alcohol in no time.

☆ ☆ ☆

(I drank too much. The barrel’s empty.)

Emilia rubbed her stomach. She’d eaten and drunk following her instincts. While the food’s taste couldn’t match Iris’s, the ingredients were plentiful, and the alcohol went down well. Apparently, this was also a “use-up party” for “ingredients that couldn’t be distributed to the city,” making her feel that the food situation in the blockaded imperial capital wasn’t as bad as she’d thought.

(It was luxurious or rather, my first alcohol. I wish Iris were here. I messed up! If it were alcohol with her cooking, it would’ve been much more delicious. Iris, Iris…)

Emilia let out a big sigh. Slightly aware of her drunkenness, she oddly wanted to act spoiled toward Iris, who wasn’t here. With her current feelings, she might have honestly accepted and stopped her yesterday—thinking such things, her face reddened.

Tilting the tankard, she drank the last alcohol poured from the barrel. While tilting her head at her inexplicable resilience, she turned her slightly reddened eyes toward the venue. In her previous life, she wasn’t that strong with alcohol, but it seemed this “Emilia” body had high alcohol tolerance.

(The food is finished too. After this, we’ll probably disband naturally.)

Empty plates were piled up everywhere. The garden members seemed to include many heavy drinkers and big eaters. As the alcohol ran out, her liver started working, and her mind rapidly cleared. With a refreshed, stress-free head, Emilia sank into thought.

(Abilis city had ingredients themselves, but there were disparities in provision. Because social division occurred based on skill presence… that’s why. The imperial capital has slightly more power, so they can suppress that division and stabilize society. Thinking that way, power isn’t about skills but rather “people.” Skill absolutism will reach its limits sooner or later, and not just Dian but the garden members all seemed to understand that too.)

Emilia looked around at her colleagues in the banquet hall. Some were talking quietly, some were being helped to their rooms, others were still sipping slowly—various scenes.

“What will you do ‘after it’s over’?” “I’ll return home and try to make companions. How about you?” “I’ll try a bit longer around here. I want to see what happens.” “I see. Take care.”

Such subdued conversations reached her ears. Everyone seemed to understand “the end” and were concerned about “what comes after.”

“How was today? Emilia”

A graceful woman blocked her view. Garret. She carried a glass bottle and two glasses in her hands. Emilia accepted the offered small glass. The contents being poured directly from the bottle were transparent, with a strong alcoholic scent.

The two clinked glasses softly. Emilia brought it to her lips and drank it all in one go. The strong alcohol of distilled liquor burned her throat pleasantly. The transparent aroma spread from her mouth to her nose, making her imagine a northern cold lake.

“If you mean the patrol, it was a strange feeling.”

Emilia let the words slip out with a sigh. Looking beside her, green eyes were curved happily as if saying “as expected.”

“Why?” “It had no relation to skills and roles. But everyone handled it.” “You too. Your scouting and reconnaissance had become quite polished.”

(Thanks to those thrilling days I spent with His Highness in the past…)

The work of the “Skill Garden” had no relation to skills. Apparently, based on the idea that “those blessed by spirits are highly capable personnel,” they assigned work based on knowledge and experience. Skills weren’t considered.

(I’ve heard that the previous empire’s skill preference policy was a society that forced skill usage anyway. But the current imperial capital’s pinnacle that advocates skill absolutism should be this garden, yet. Rather, they don’t actively utilize skills, or something.)

During the daytime patrol, Emilia did draw her holy sword when they encountered enemies, but other combat personnel immediately stepped in to fight. Of course, they weren’t skill holders suited for combat either. Still, they boasted fearsome combat abilities, not even being challenged by intermediate monsters.

“‘Skills are blessings from spirits, and therefore must be absolutely respected. Using up skill holders is absolutely unacceptable.’ That’s skill absolutism… though it’s my interpretation.” “Even the Spirit Church doesn’t go that far. But why?” “You don’t understand? Skills are mental power. The more you use them… the more they corrode the user. You too, right?”

Being answered so quietly, Emilia was startled. Skill holders’ “quirks” and their power are closely connected. If the “quirk” is stimulated, the skill manifests more strongly. If skills are abused——.

(The holy sword’s “Sword.” The more I use it, the “hazy feeling”… feels like it’s getting stronger and bigger. Indeed, there’s some truth to that.)

“You can’t escape from skills. Not using them is impossible. But overusing them will make you mentally ill. I…”

Words filled with personal experience were exhaled along with the scent of alcohol. Emilia raised her gaze, waiting for what those green eyes would tell.

“I once broke my mind from overusing my skills for Lord Herrick’s sake.”

The words flowed smoothly, leaving no room for argument.