The Secret of a Borrowed Princess

Our first destination within the sprawling Merchant District was the Explorer's Guild.

Amara kept Elira and Elara close, her hands holding theirs as she navigated them through the bustling street. Though she was likely more than a dozen years their senior, she possessed a youthfulness that made her seem more like an older sister than a maternal figure. As had become routine, Kyoto’s cheerful attempts to claim one of the children’s free hands were deftly thwarted by Amara’s subtle, protective resistance.

I couldn’t fail to notice the way people’s eyes, particularly the men’s, followed Amara as we ambled down a side street branching off the main thoroughfare. It was hardly a new phenomenon. She had been the object of sly, appraising glances from the male aristocrats in the Sovereign District, and only moments ago, the patrons of the restaurant had made her the unwilling centerpiece of their attention.

“Amara, you’ve certainly gathered quite the collection of admirers,” I remarked casually.

“Indeed. Our princess is capturing every eye,” Kyoto observed, his own gaze sweeping across the onlookers. “We should start charging them a fee for every look,” he proposed, offering one of his typically ludicrous ideas.

I carried on speaking to Amara as if the comment were nothing out of the ordinary, but Kyoto’s sudden, absurd reference to her as “our princess” had already planted a seed of curiosity in the children’s minds.

“Is Miss Amara a princess?” Elara asked, tilting her head back to direct her questioning gaze at Amara.

“Mama… pwincess?” Even little Elira, her words still taking shape, stared up at Amara with wide-eyed, innocent wonder.

Amara was visibly flustered, clearly at a loss for how to respond. She shot another searing glare in Kyoto’s direction before turning to me, her eyes silently pleading for assistance.

“Now listen here, you two,” I said, squatting down to meet them at their eye level. “This is supposed to be a secret, but if you can both promise to keep it under wraps, I don’t mind sharing it with you. Deal?”

They both nodded with vigorous enthusiasm, their eyes shimmering with excitement. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amara’s expression tighten into an expectant scowl.

“Good, then listen closely.” I leaned in, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. They eagerly inclined their heads, straining to hear.

“She is a princess from a kingdom very far away, and we are her loyal attendants. Right now, we’re journeying across the world, disguised as common folk so she can see it all for herself. Sounds like a grand adventure, doesn’t it?”

The outcome was more potent than I ever could have imagined. Their wide, round eyes, now fixed upon Amara, shone with a newfound, genuine admiration. They tried to wrap their small arms around her in an embrace, but their diminutive stature only allowed them to reach her hips.

Amara, who had been too far away to overhear my whispered fabrication, could sense that the atmosphere had shifted but couldn't quite discern why.

Tugging on the hem of Amara’s dress, Elira gestured for her to bend down. Once Amara had knelt, the little girl whispered, “Mamel, lovely pwincess, and so kind! Lira is happy.” Her lisp, a charming product of her young age, only served to make the declaration more adorable.

“Yes!” Elara chimed in, her own eyes sparkling with delight. “I always thought that someone as beautiful and compassionate as Miss Amara had to be of noble status. To think you’re actually a princess… I feel so honored to be in your care!”

A conflicted yet gentle smile touched Amara’s lips as she regarded the two children, now gazing at her as if she were a figure from a fairytale.

As we resumed our walk toward our destination, Amara became thoroughly preoccupied with her two young admirers, which gave me the perfect opportunity to speak with the others.

“This princess of ours is remarkably beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Kyoto conceded with a surprising degree of sincerity. “She’d be any man’s dream come true, if only she didn’t glare so much.” Zephyra nodded in quiet accord. “With a face like that, I think she could easily be a supermodel or compete in some world-class beauty pageant.”

“It’s true. She’s an exceptionally beautiful woman. I don’t think many could hold a candle to her, aside from Zephyra here, of course.” At my comment, a faint blush colored Zephyra’s cheeks, a reaction that seemed strangely out of place on her mature, ageless features.

“Yep, yep. It’s practically a miracle we have two stunners like them in our group.”

“From your tone, it’s clear you don’t view her as a potential love interest,” I observed, turning my focus to Kyoto. “Why is that? It’s rare for a man to be so nonchalant about Amara’s looks.”

“I’ve already got a woman of my own,” he replied, though a fleeting trace of melancholy tinged his jesting smile. “My heart has already been claimed. It’s off the market. No longer for sale.”

“That sounds a lot like you. And yet, you don’t seem to have any desire to return to Terra, even with a loved one waiting for you. Is it possible that she’s…”

“Nah, I bet she’s alive and well.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“No, wait, I just said she’s alive and well.”

“I didn’t realize you were carrying the torch for such a powerful, unrequited love that you won’t even spare a glance for other women.”

“It’s mutual, dammit!” He took the bait perfectly.

“Alright, I get it. I’ll stop making jokes about your love life,” I relented. “I was just making sure you weren’t gay or something, since you barely seemed to register other women as potential partners.”

“I’m straight!”

“I know, I know. How about you, old man?” I directed the question to Voktah.

“I have a grandson already,” he replied succinctly, his tone leaving no room for follow-up.

“I see. You already have a family. That certainly explains it.” Voktah simply nodded. The old man was clearly a family man at his core; no further questions were necessary. He had a grandson!

“So what about you, then?” Kyoto retorted, turning the tables. “You’re asking all of us this out of the blue. Are you trying to make a move on her? Need a wingman?”

“Me? No, I don’t have a special someone. Most of my relationships have been one-night stands. Two, at the absolute most. Besides, I’m in no rush. I want to get my bearings in this new world before I even think about looking for something real.”

“That’s just pitiful,” Kyoto said, feigning sympathy for my romantic history.

“Boss, I thought you were a pimp,” Voktah added, still stubbornly clinging to his old joke.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. It was just difficult to maintain a relationship in my particular line of work,” I said, my mind drifting back to my life as a rogue agent.

“I understand,” the old warrior remarked sagely. “Finding a good woman would indeed be a challenge with your profession.”

He had completely misunderstood my meaning, but it didn’t matter.

“Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” I said, deliberately shifting the topic to something more pressing. “How do you know so much about this world? You correctly guessed about the Explorer’s Guild, the Goddesses, the abilities… Have you been here before?”

Despite being raised in a remote institution, I’d been introduced to the outside world in my early twenties. I was perfectly comfortable with modern technology and knew my way around common culture. I’d even seen famous fantasy films like the Parry Hotter saga and The Lord of the Circlets trilogy, but nothing I had ever encountered mirrored the situation we now found ourselves in. I was intensely curious as to how Kyoto knew all of this. It would certainly explain his adamant refusal to eat the Grokk steak—he must have known something about them. I needed to know more, to prepare myself for whatever lay ahead.

“Oh, that? It all comes from books. Mostly N-Lits.”

“N-Lits?” I echoed. “I assume the ‘N’ stands for Nihon. Care to explain what they are?”

A knowing, almost smug smile spread across Kyoto’s face. “Sure, I’d be glad to.”

He went on to explain that stories centered on being transported to another world—whether through reincarnation, a summoning ritual, or simply being spirited away—was an incredibly popular genre in Nihon-Lits, or Japanese Light Novels. This was entirely new information for me. He elaborated that many of these stories shared common elements, such as the transported character receiving a powerful “cheat” ability upon arrival, a detail that sounded disturbingly similar to our own circumstances. These books, he continued, often described worlds governed by gods or goddesses, and organizations like Explorer’s Guilds were almost always a staple feature. The existence of other intelligent, non-human races was also a common trope. These elements, he explained, were all part of a “template”—a standard framework for stories set in another world.

According to him, being summoned as a hero was a particularly frequent pattern, and his stories often warned against blindly trusting the kingdom that performed the summoning. I had suspected as much from the very beginning.

“Right. First rule of survival: never trust strangers. Especially when you’re in a foreign land you know nothing about.”

I then recounted to him how I’d been imprisoned over a “slight misunderstanding.” Despite my supposed offense, I was still classified as a hero candidate. It was bizarre that the King had simply sentenced me to a month in prison and then moved on, summoning another hero as if I were nothing more than a disposable tool.

“Exactly,” Kyoto said, nodding emphatically. “It’s a common trope for the summoned hero to be used, coerced, and even betrayed after they’ve outlived their usefulness. The fact that they dismissed you so easily just highlights how callous the summoners truly are.”

“Do you know where I could find these stories? I’d like to read them myself to get a better handle on all this.” This wasn’t just fiction anymore; I was living it. This kind of information was worth taking the time to study thoroughly.

“Cool, but can you read Nihongo?”

“No,” I admitted. “I can barely speak enough for a daily conversation.”

During my days as a rogue, a mission involving their special forces had required weeks of preparation in Nihon. As a consequence, I had managed to pick up just enough of the language to get by.