As expected, the photo experience shop was a photo booth that took four-shot instant pictures.
The problem was that our group numbered six in total, including a Dragon.
Among the humans was Liolikin, who boasted an enormous physique.
To fit everyone into the small four-panel frame, we had to press close together.
Since it was everyone’s first time taking photos like this, the process of striking poses and arranging composition was eventful.
Still, not a single person got annoyed; on the contrary, everyone seemed to be having a great time.
Laughter broke out repeatedly, and those moments were perfectly captured and printed in the photos.
In the pictures, everyone was smiling brightly as if they were genuinely happy.
Everyone except one person—me.
There were those who urged me to smile when taking the photos.
In fact, everyone encouraged me to at least lift the corners of my mouth.
But I couldn’t follow their words.
Because it would be breaking character.
‘Besides, I’ve insisted all along that I’m not friends with these people, so it’s too contradictory to smile happily while squished together taking photos.’
Though I couldn’t smile as everyone wished, I still did my best not to spoil the mood.
Even if I wore a sullen expression and grudgingly cooperated, I never openly frowned, made an unpleasant face, or stormed out of the photo booth.
“It would’ve been nice if Kar had smiled…”
Vigdis expressed her regret as she looked at the printed photos.
No matter how much she said that, I couldn’t tell her anything.
It wasn’t like I could suggest retaking the photos with a smile this time.
So I kept quiet until Reysir suddenly butted in with a reckless comment.
“Still, it’s better than Karvald standing out alone. It looks like he’s having fun but pretending not to, so it’s not so bad, right?”
“Now that you mention it…! It really does look like that!”
Those two must have seriously twisted eyes.
I gave Vigdis and Reysir a stunned look before turning my head sharply, making it clear I didn’t even want to respond to such nonsense.
***
While I clammed up completely, the others seemed to have plenty to say about the photos.
On the way to the Board Game Room, everyone chattered nonstop about the pictures.
Then someone suggested that next time we go out, we should take photos again.
But I only half-listened.
After all, I thought this was the first and last time our group would go out together.
“Anyone want to play a particular board game?”
Upon arriving at the Board Game Room, Reysir looked around and asked.
Naturally, Liolikin, Vigdis, and I, who had never been to a place like this, remained silent.
Though each table had a booklet with the game’s name and a brief explanation.
Since Yor was among us, we had to avoid games requiring complex language skills, but there was no note about that.
Because of this, it was Hailga, who had many friends, who chose the board game.
She called the staff over and ordered the chosen game along with drinks and snacks.
Since the food took time to prepare, we listened to the staff explain the game rules while waiting…
‘The game package design is way too modern?’
I’m certain that’s a real board game that exists in reality.
Probably the other games we didn’t pick are the same.
Mentioning actual product names positively in novels is usually not a problem.
But since it wasn’t important to the story, I’ll skip naming the games.
Along with that, I’ll also skip the scenes of us playing the games, so readers can imagine however they like.
“We really lost track of time while playing, huh?”
As we left the Board Game Room, Reysir asked everyone cheerfully.
Hailga, Vigdis, and Liolikin all agreed it was fun.
Yor also nodded in agreement with a soft “meow.”
“Karvald, what about you? Did you enjoy it?”
“Not really.”
Though that was my answer, honestly, I did feel some enjoyment.
‘Why was it fun? Well, the point of board games is to be fun, right? So the fun was from the game itself, not from playing with them. Don’t get confused!’
***
While I tried to rationalize this, Reysir spoke up again.
“But you seemed really into the game, showing a competitive side too.”
“If there weren’t penalties, I wouldn’t have tried so hard.”
“The penalties weren’t that bad. Eating spicy food sold for penalties, drinking sour drinks, getting flicked on the forehead, singing a song, saying ‘I love you’ to everyone, adding a nasal consonant to the end of every sentence for 10 minutes… What else was there?”
Reysir rattled off the penalty roulette list as he remembered it.
What seemed trivial to him was more than enough for me, especially the singing penalty.
As Reysir nonchalantly mentioned it just now, I was lucky to avoid the singing penalty.
I hadn’t escaped penalties altogether, but the worst were a shot of calamansi juice and a few flicks on the forehead.
Really fortunate.
“Enough about the past, just lead the way to the restaurant we reserved.”
“Changing the subject again? Is it that hard to just say you had fun?”
Reysir probably didn’t understand how difficult it was for me to say such a simple, easy phrase right now.
But since I couldn’t reveal that, I stayed silent.
Reysir sighed, shook his head, and said casually, “Well, whatever. Maybe someday you’ll be honest.”
“……”
As long as I have to live as Karvald, I don’t think that will ever happen.
I didn’t voice that thought and quietly averted my gaze.
Reysir didn’t say anything else for the time being, maybe waiting for that “someday” to come, and we moved on.
The restaurant we arrived at was different from the one we’d gone to for lunch, but it was similarly a private room-style place with separated tables.
The food was also quite expensive, just like before.
But considering the allowance my possessed body receives, it was pocket change. So I ostentatiously ordered the most expensive dish.
‘This way, those being treated don’t have to worry about price and can comfortably pick what they want.’
***
After everyone finished ordering, the conversation about board games resumed.
We hadn’t stuck to one game but switched between several, so there was plenty to talk about.
With the penalties thrown into the mix, the dining table was much livelier than at lunch.
‘They don’t seem to get tired at all.’
Listening to them wasn’t boring, but I was getting tired.
Because I had to maintain a delicate balance—neither spoiling the mood nor being swept up in it.
After the meal and on the way back to the Academy, I wished there would be nothing I needed to worry about.
At that moment, a topic about me slipped from Hailga’s mouth.
“By the way, how did the nicknames between you and Prince Karvald come about?”
“Huh? Our nicknames?”
“Hailga calls the prince ‘Kar,’ but he just calls her by her name.”
“Ah…! W-well…”
Vigdis revealed a vivid look of embarrassment and glanced at me as if seeking help.
It seemed she had no idea this question would come.
With no choice, I answered, since I’d anticipated this moment.
“Vigdis seemed to have trauma about being called by a nickname, so she decided to hold back.”
“Trauma? About me…?”
“Are you unaware of it?”
“Huh? What do you mean…”
“You always looked frightened and shrank back whenever I called you by a nickname.”
“Me…?”
Though she should have noticed I was making a flimsy excuse, Vigdis just nodded, looking more puzzled than agreeing, as if wondering what on earth I was talking about.
Instead of that, it would have been better to glance at Hailga, Reysir, and Liolikin’s confused faces and make a pitiful expression.
‘Our teamwork is so off!’
I clicked my tongue inwardly and nudged her leg under the table.
Only then did Vigdis catch on and change her attitude.
“Hah..! Y-yeah…! Kar used to call me ‘Disil’ obsessively, which still scares me… He doesn’t obsess anymore, but the memories come back?”
“I thought so.”
“But I think I’m getting better…? If I keep being called by the nickname, maybe I’ll get used to it…?”
It was good she changed her attitude, but in the wrong direction.
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
“W-well… Kar is my fiancé, right? So switching from a nickname back to my real name feels… kind of… unusual? I worry others might find it strange…”
“What others think is not important.”
“You know it’s important to me…”
Whether Vigdis or Disil, it’s just a character name to me.
I don’t intend to put too much meaning into nicknames.
But since there’s no guarantee the other person feels the same, it’s best not to say those things aloud.
It’s just the way of the world that when one stays quiet, the other approaches and the distance closes.
“Later. When I’m sure no matter what happens that I won’t obsess over you, I’ll start using that nickname again.”
“In that case, can’t you call me that nickname now…?”
“Not yet.”
“Ah… okay…”
Vigdis nodded reluctantly, looking like she wanted to ask, ‘How long do you plan to keep using that excuse?’ but decided to let it go.
When we signed the Disengagement Contract, she had been terrified and tense whenever I mentioned “obsession.”
But it’s only been a little over a month since then, and apparently, that fear has already faded.
That means it’s good for her, but for me, I lost one of my almost foolproof excuses, which is a bit disappointing.
“Karvald, you…! You say such incredible things so casually?!”
Just as I was relieved we had the contract signed, Reysir suddenly said something meaningless.
“What nonsense are you spouting all of a sudden?”
“And what’s with your reaction?”
“……?”
“To put your words into simple terms: You like Vigdis so much that you can’t control yourself. Because of a small trigger, your feelings overflow, and you fear you might obsess over and hurt her again. So you’re even reluctant to call her by a nickname.”
I was simply saying I didn’t want to get too close to Vigdis and therefore didn’t want to use nicknames.
I have no idea how that got twisted into such an outrageous statement.
That’s not an explanation— it’s a distortion. Worse, it’s like knitting a completely different thing altogether.
“Oh my, oh my…!”
Hailga blushed, looking between my and Vigdis’s faces and Reysir’s with disbelief as if she believed his botched interpretation.
Liolikin let out an impressed “Oh…” as well.
Reysir’s words must have sounded quite convincing.
But still.
“W-was that really what you meant?!”
‘Shouldn’t Vigdis have known better than to take Reysir’s sloppy interpretation at face value?’
We even signed the Disengagement Contract.
It couldn’t have meant that.