'She won't leave?' he thought, walking through the mansion as he stopped at the window and gazed at the girl standing just outside the gates.
It had been three days since he arrived here. The place was empty—the entire mansion was vacant. It seemed the duke had been serious about taking away all his privileges. Well, he wasn't left completely to his own devices. There was a maid who came from time to time to prepare his food. He didn't know where she came from, but he always saw food on the dining table, three times a day.
He sighed and ignored the maid standing outside the gate. According to his memories as Anderson, she had been with him since childhood, and strangely enough, she was the only maid who had ever approached him. For some strange reason, all the other maids, from the moment she became his personal maid, had avoided him like a plague. It had gotten worse with the degenerate behavior he had adopted. Even at this moment, his body seemed to be craving that carnal pleasure so intensely it was affecting his reasoning. Anderson had become addicted to sex at this point—about the only thing he did since his body had begun responding to such urges.
Tsk.
Annoying.
He had to find a way to get this body under control. He had to shed some of this weight and control these overwhelming urges. This was one of the reasons he wanted her far from him—he didn't want to do something to her. She was the closest thing to family Anderson had ever known. Though Anderson had been an irredeemable scumbag, he could never bring himself to do anything against her. In a way, he saw her as a friend, or rather, a sibling.
So his scummy attitude had been reserved for when he hung out with his 'friends.'
From what he could sense from Anderson's memories, the young man had been somewhat happy whenever she was near him, and that was probably because she was the only person who had ever shown him a bit of kindness and care, even with that cold front she always maintained.
Just leave. Please, he thought and walked down the stairs. Arriving at the main hall, he walked toward the left, which led to a corridor. From there, he was able to find a dining room, and atop the large table sat his 'modest' meal.
"Quite efficient," he nodded, then walked toward the table. His body still felt like dead weight, but he was getting used to it.
He had been thinking of ways to reduce this excess fat, but he still had no solutions.
"Mmm," he sighed in relief as he finally sat down, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
He opened them after a moment, then smiled slightly, gazing at the delicacy before him. It was always nice to have a good meal—that was the only thing he actually found himself anticipating these days.
Tsk.
It seemed he would be stuck this way for a while.
He looked at the dish in front of him. It was mostly meat, meat, and more meat. Not that he hated it—in fact, he actually enjoyed the varied taste of different meats that had been prepared in various ways. But then again, it was exactly these kinds of meals that were the reason for Anderson's current predicament, so he couldn't eat too much without making it worse.
He grabbed the fork and knife and began cutting away at some strange meat he was seeing for the first time.
He sighed.
Elvira.
That was Anderson's fiancée—the reason he had gotten into this mess in the first place. She had hated him... no, she completely despised the young man, and with every face-to-face meeting, she had always made it abundantly clear. She had traumatized the young man so much that he had become afraid enough to risk his life in a duel against his brother, who not only possessed ether but also a sypha. Anderson had nearly died in that fight, but he hadn't cared—all he had wanted was for the engagement to be broken.
He sighed again.
The Academy.
He had to find a way to reduce this excess weight before it began, or he would suffer greatly.
And there was a certain memory of Larson's that kept troubling him—a certain memory of a game.