Today is my, Mistia Arlen's, 10th birthday.

Even if I call it a birthday, the night has already deepened and the day is about to end. All's left for me is to sleep now. As I turned my face towards the direction of the time-gouging ticking of the second hand (of the clock), I saw a shadow of a huge clock. The top of that clock is engraved with the rose crest of the Arlen family, but since the lights in the room have been extinguished to make falling asleep easier, I can't see its details.

Each time my parents would catch a glimpse of that crest, no, that rose, they'd repeatedly emphasize that our family came from a "high-bred lineage of n.o.bles".

My mother would tell me about how our ancestors were not only the n.o.bles but also imperial knights, who had distinguished themselves with their military exploits and my father would add that some of them even served as s.h.i.+nto priests. My grandfather and grandmother were pretty much the same.

And so, my parents would always treat me as a "special child", but ultimately, I am neither an imperial knight nor a s.h.i.+nto priest.

I am just a mediocre child, who is by no means superior to anybody else.

An ordinary girl born in a long-established Arlen family by chance. That is I, Mistia Arlen.

The birthday party for my 10th birthday was held grandly, in stark contrast to my mediocre self.

Meat dishes as well as many delicacies such as fresh fish dishes, despite the fact that we're not even located close to a coastland. Beautiful ornaments inlayed with blindingly bright jewels and uncountable number of guests.

The flashy, gorgeous and magnificent party was of such a scale that even I, who was being congratulated, shrank back. Perhaps that afterglow is the reason why I can't sleep right now.

To be honest, I'm questioning if there was any need to hold such a grand birthday party. I'm pretty happy about the fact that my birthday was celebrated. A day when you bring joy to everybody just by being alive. That is a birthday.

However, I think that should only involve people within Arlen family. A grand party is held year after year, but personally I would prefer the kind of party, where my parents and familiar people, those who usually work in the mansion, would sit together with me at the table and eat the cake.

I'm very grateful for luxurious meals and decorations, and many guests, but if you asked me whether it was necessary, my answer would be negative.

Albeit, this is something that shouldn't be said. If I say it, if I convey it, I will end trampling the feelings of my parents.

Just last week, when my parents asked me what I wanted this month for 159th time, having forgotten my own birthday, I carelessly answered with "I only want mother and father to be healthy" And made them cry with my boorish reply.

I should have taken their parental love and the desire to celebrate the birthday of their only daughter into account and answered with more concreteness, but I completely missed the chance. However, I do want my parents to be healthy.

"It's no use."

Unable to sleep, I left the bed and opened the window and the curtains. Even though it's spring, the night wind is still cold. There is a waxing moon in the sky.

Today I'm really tired from endlessly greeting my parents' friends and many others. When you're tired, you should start feeling sleepy, however, it seems that when people exceed their limits, their sleepiness is instantly warded away. I don't feel sleepy at all.

1 person greeting 300 people is almost on the scale of a battle. It's not surprising that I would get so tired. I looked over my moonlit garden outside the window. It's well-kept and beautiful no matter how many times I look at it. Flowers and trees are lined up perfectly, almost like graphics in the game.

"…Graphics…game?"

Even though I'm the one said it, I don't understand the meaning of those words. What is a "code"? It's been like this all the time recently. Even though neither board games nor card games are related to the garden, I keep feeling like I have seen it in some game.

I have never actually played board games in the garden, and those two have no common contact to start with.

Suddenly, when I averted my eyes from the window, I realized that there was something s.h.i.+ning on the window frame. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be my hand mirror.

Oh right. In the morning, I was called by Father when I was checking my appearance so I left it here and left the room. While recalling the sequence of events, I took up the hand mirror and just in case checked if it was cracked somewhere.

My face was reflected in it as a matter of course. My face that I always looked at. That's how it should have been but I felt indescribable unease. There is no mistake that this face belongs to me, Mistia Arlen, the daughter of the Arlen family.

"Yes, Mistia…"

From the moment I whispered that name, my head started to hurt and as if using that pain as a signal, images and sounds ran about in my head.

Everything I had seen, heard and felt before in my life became clear.

I, who went to school clad in uniform. I, who chatted with my younger sister on our way back home. I, who rolled in my bed and played a game. And Mistia, reflected in that game…Mistia Arlen.

"I'm…Mistia."

Reflected in the mirror was a black-haired girl I knew well. It was the face that I had always been looking at from the other side of the screen.

"I'm Mistia!"

I am definitely Mistia Arlen. That's unmistakable. However, at the same time, I am not her. Thus, I despaired.

"Why…am I…Mistia…?"

At the reality that this was the world of an otome game.

—

Notes:

Oh Mistia, why art thou Mistia?

I had the og version ready for a long time but looks like author went back and changed some things so I had to do some tweaking too. Here's the to raws.

I'm leaving this as a teaser for now. If it interests me, I'll continue. If it doesn't, well, you can guess what happens at that time.

Notify me about mistranslations, typos and weird grammar.