ECPK 02🤴

CHAPTER 02

“So, she really is Sonetine.”

That alone explained everything about her identity.

A pale, small-faced girl with ashen blonde hair loosely braided down.

This woman was Sonetine—the last princess of Izaris. The only remaining Sonetine in the world.

Her appearance matched exactly what Claude had always imagined a “Sonetine” would look like. He was quietly stunned by the uncanny resemblance.

He found himself about to be captivated by her almost mystical beauty when, unexpectedly, the princess—who had been staring at him the whole time—opened her mouth first.

“Are you really Claude?”

The question shattered his focus like glass breaking in his mind.

She didn’t use a title. No “Sir,” no “Governor,” no family name. Just his name, plain and direct.

Momentarily thrown off, Claude quickly collected himself, rose from his seat, and dropped to one knee before her.

“All the world’s wonders begin in Izaris.”

With that, he extended a hand in formal greeting, inviting her to allow a kiss on the back of her hand—the highest gesture of knightly respect toward a lady.

The princess tilted her head, then murmured after a pause, “Oh… you want my hand?” And without ceremony, she simply dropped hers into his palm.

‘Well, that’s new.’

It wasn’t exactly an offering—it felt more like the absent-minded boop of a cat. Still, for some reason, it made him a little happy. Like being unexpectedly acknowledged by something aloof and untouchable.

“Your hand is quite small, Princess.”

Claude lightly kissed it and discreetly measured the size. It confirmed his earlier suspicion: the bloody handprint found in the forest hadn’t been hers.

“It is an honor to meet the descendant of the great Archmage. I am Claude Devonshire, Holy Knight of Valloran. I have been guarding Izaris in your absence. Our Emperor has taken a deep interest in this region’s wellbeing.”

He chose the word “guarding” carefully. In truth, his presence here was closer to unlawful occupation, so he did his best to frame things neutrally.

“The Emperor always says: when a mountain is left without a master, the army must occupy it without delay. I hope you understand that my staying here is not by my own will.”

In other words, he was throwing his own emperor under the bus—fully exposing the greed behind their expansion.

Whether she understood or not, the princess simply blinked her clear, bright eyes, looking dazed.

Izaris, a land ruled by mages since ancient times.

It was once called the cradle of arcane civilization, but the kingdom had destroyed itself—not through war, but through a tragic mistake by its last king.

The rumors said he had violated a divine taboo and been cursed. Some called him “the Mad Mage.” Whether any of that was true, no one could say.

What was true, however, was that monsters—the cursed beings—now ran rampant in the Black Forest at the heart of the fallen kingdom.

‘And his daughter…’

The princess who had fled for her life during the chaos of the curse.

“…Princess?”

Claude grew uneasy under her continued, unwavering stare.

There was wonder in her eyes. A kind of quiet awe.

‘I expected hatred. Maybe disgust.’

He hadn’t prepared for this kind of reaction.

He was, after all, a man who had marched into her kingdom and claimed control in her absence. From her point of view, he was nothing less than an invader.

“If I’ve made any offense…”

“Are you really Claude?”

“Yes, I truly am Claude.”

She spoke as if greeting an old friend, still calling him by name so casually that it left him once again disoriented.

“Do you… know me?”

That would be the only explanation for such familiarity. In the worst possible light, he was a thief—a conqueror. Yet she seemed completely at ease.

“No, it’s not that. I’m just… happy to see you.”

“Happy…? What?”

Claude was speechless this time. His voice cracked, unable to mask his confusion.

How… how could she say that? That she’s happy to see me? Doesn’t hate me? Doesn’t loathe me?

He had even braced himself for a drink to be thrown in his face.

But she didn’t care about any of that. Her eyes were sincere—bright.

To Terry, it was like watching a statue she’d admired come to life, walk toward her, speak to her, and even kiss her hand.

Because this was Claude Devonshire.

The protagonist of the game. The very knight she had been controlling just a few hours ago from her monitor.

He looked exactly as he should—tall and handsome, clad in pristine white robes befitting a holy knight, with contrasting black hair and piercing gray eyes.

‘Of course, all protagonists are overpowered. Cold and beautiful, good at everything… the classic “cool male lead.”’

But Terry knew better.

Despite his composed exterior, Claude had the personality of a grumpy boy. He seemed flawless, but the game had revealed his very human flaws—flaws no one else was supposed to know.

‘Looks like a top student, but he’s really a tsundere. I mean seriously… I’m actually sitting across from a tsundere male lead drinking juice with him. What is my life right now?’

That’s when reality hit her again.

This man in front of her clearly existed in this world.

But she—what was she?

‘I don’t even have a role in this game. What am I supposed to do?’

In the game The Dark Forest of Izaris, the “Princess of Izaris” didn’t exist. The kingdom itself was just part of the setting—already in ruins. The protagonist had always been Claude, knight of Valloran.

The entire story was about Claude’s journey to defeat monsters and lift the curse. It was a difficult RPG designed to challenge players with tough battles, culminating in a fight against a dragon. The princess? She wasn’t even a character.

There had never been any place for her in the story.

No one could say whether she was meant to exist or not—but what was certain was that she had never appeared in the game.

‘Of course there’s no place for me. This world doesn’t have a role for someone like me.’

If people hadn’t started calling her “Princess” or “Sonetine” as soon as they saw her, Terry might still be confused about who—or what—she was.

When she had wandered out of the forest into the nearest village, the people had gasped and recognized her at once—those striking orange eyes were unmistakable.

—Oh my god! The princess has returned!

They had called her the very same princess who, on the day the great curse fell, was smuggled out of the kingdom by the last loyal mages.

But even so—could she really say she was that princess?

Terry tilted her head slightly.

“Um… hey, Claude.”

Still rattled by her earlier friendliness, Claude’s brow twitched when she called him by name again.

“Please address me as ‘Governor.’”

“Ah, sure. Whatever you prefer, Governor.”

‘Whatever you prefer’?

Here he was, internally going through a hundred emotions—and she casually brushed it off?

A flicker of emotion passed over Claude’s face, but he pushed it down and replied.

“‘Governor’ will do. Speak freely—I’d rather not be seen as a rude brute toward royalty.”

He had chosen his words carefully, respectfully—but once again, the princess just nodded without hesitation.

“Alright.”

“You seemed like you were about to ask something earlier?”

“Oh, right. Do you happen to know my name?”

“…”

Every time he thought the conversation was back on track, she threw him another curveball. Claude rubbed his temple.

“My apologies, but I do not.”

“Thought so.”

“May I ask why that concerns you?”

“Well, everyone here just calls me ‘Princess’ or ‘Sonetine.’”

When they were friendly, it was “Princess.” When they were wary or hostile, it was “Sonetine.” Claude had guessed that Sonetine was the royal family name—but no one ever said her first name. And it wasn’t that they were avoiding it—they genuinely didn’t seem to know.

That suspicion was confirmed by Claude’s reply.

The character Terry had been inserted into… had never existed in the first place.

She didn’t even have a name.

Nothing about the princess had ever been decided. Her role was a blank slate.

‘…I guess that’s actually kind of a relief.’

Maybe it would be easier to find a way back if nothing was locked into place. After all, once Claude defeated the final boss—the dragon—the game would end. Maybe that would be her “exit.”

Still, the absurdity of it all made her chest tighten again. She sighed deeply—once, twice, three times.

‘Live by the game, die by the game, is that it?’

She was a world-class pro gamer with multiple championship trophies. Wealthier than most baseball players. An Olympic gold medalist in eSports.

And now, she was stuck inside a casual side-game she’d played just to blow off steam.

Sure, she’d never had a family. No loved ones. No attachments. If she died tomorrow, there’d be little regret.

But this? She hadn’t signed up for this.

“…Should’ve written a will and left my stuff to charity.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself. Anyway, thanks for answering.”

It was ridiculous. She’d fought so hard to crawl out of a crushed life—only to end up possessing a background NPC in a video game.

Terry chugged her juice like it might fix everything.

Meanwhile, Claude hadn’t even taken a sip. He looked deeply troubled.