After gathering her dignity, Helen glared at me.
"As you said, since I've become an accomplice, I suppose I can't exactly go around telling people Uris was watching something this... perverse."
"A wise conclusion, My Lady."
"To think she was watching such lewd things while acting so perfect on the outside... I'm disappointed in you, Uris."
Her face was a deep crimson as she pulled her clothes tight and took a step back. "...You didn't see it, did you?"
"See what?"
"That. The illusion I saw."
"Would you like the truth, or would you prefer a comforting lie?"
"...No. Don't answer. I know exactly what you're going to say."
She was sharp. She immediately realized I had experienced her illusion vicariously.
"I truly hope the Lady of Sylvestra becomes a regular. As you can see, we aren't exactly overflowing with customers."
"Wh-why would I ever come back to a place like this?"
"Did you not... enjoy it?"
"D-don't be ridiculous! It wasn't enjoyable at all!"
"For someone who says that, you certainly—"
"What?!"
She cut me off, her voice rising in defensive panic. I decided to stop there. There was no need to provoke her further. Whether it was her "taste" or not, the fact remained that she had enjoyed herself toward the end. Silence was the better tool here; pushing her further would only turn her into a true enemy.
"Very well. Please feel free to visit anytime. I'll offer a 50% discount on your second visit."
"You'll never have to honor that. I'm never coming back."
"Then it is a shame our service was so lacking."
I watched her back as she paid the fee and fled the shop. The process was turbulent, but the result was satisfying. I had suppressed the threat of her reporting us to the radical reformers or blackmailing Uris. And despite her protests, I knew she'd be back. Just like Uris.
'But I need better data for the next one.' The "loser" in her illusion had been a generic extract from her memory. To make a truly immersive masterpiece, I needed to know exactly who this boy was, how he was treated, and the nuances of his existence.
"It looks like I'll be paying a visit to the Imperial Academy for the first time."
Reality and Residual Heat
Back at her estate, Helen felt a wave of relief seeing the maids and the butler greet her as the Lady of Sylvestra.
'I haven't been abandoned.'
The fear that had gripped her in the illusion—the terror of being discarded by her family—evaporated. Yet, the image of the loser sneering at her while pinning her down wouldn't leave her mind.
"Butler," she asked quietly. "What would happen... if I lost my ability to command spirits?"
"What a strange question, My Lady. Regardless of your abilities, you are a Lady of the Sylvestra line. Our pride and joy."
She summoned her spirits—a high-ranking wind spirit in the form of a lynx and a muscular earth spirit like a great ape. They appeared instantly, tilting their heads in confusion at her sudden call. Seeing them, Helen finally breathed a sigh of relief.
'It was just an illusion. None of it was real.'
But when she stepped into her bath, assisted by her maids, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her mind instantly flashed back to the "whore" in the reflection—the girl with her legs spread, frantically seeking pleasure from her own touch.
"My Lady? Is something wrong?" the maids asked, noticing her sudden gasp.
"It's... nothing."
She hurried into the water to hide the fact that her body was already reacting to the memory. The aromatic oils and warm water were luxurious, but as she soaked, a terrifying thought crossed her mind.
'Something... is missing.'
The Encounter
The next day at the Academy, Helen tried to bury the memories. As she entered the classroom, she saw him—the "loser" from her memories. Propard. He was surrounded by the same thugs who had mocked her in the illusion.
"St-stop it..." Propard whimpered as they shook him down for his allowance.
"Stop it~!" the thug mocked. "You think we care? This is protection money, you brat."
Normally, Helen wouldn't have cared. But the phantom sting of the slap she had received in the illusion made her blood boil.
"That's enough," she snapped.
The thugs froze. "Lady Sylvestra?"
"Have some dignity as students of the Imperial Academy. Act like nobles."
Knowing they couldn't cross a Sylvestra, the thugs grumbled and retreated. Propard looked up, trembling. "Th-thank you."
When their eyes met, Helen flinched. It was a reflexive, bodily response—a flicker of fear. But Propard didn't notice.
"I-I'll pay you back for this, I promise," he whispered.
The panic in Helen's heart cooled instantly. Right. This is reality.
"Pay me back? Do you know who I am? I am Helen of the House of Sylvestra. A man from a lowly family like yours has nothing I want."
"I... I'm sorry..."
"A loser should act like a loser. Stay in your corner and don't you dare speak to me again."
Her words were sharper than usual, a desperate attempt to re-establish the hierarchy that had been shattered in her mind. Seeing Propard shrink away in fear comforted her. This was the correct order of things.
'He's nothing like the man in the illusion. What was I even expecting?'
She turned toward her seat, trying to focus on the upcoming lecture. But then, she saw someone through the classroom window walking through the main gates of the Academy.
A man who absolutely did not belong here.
The Illusion Mage.