The Cici Manual and the Art of Deflection

The suspicion I had barely managed to swallow surged back up. The circumstances were just too convenient, and it was driving me crazy. I’d actually spoken to this kid more than I had to the Crown Prince.

Part of me desperately wanted confirmation on whether “she” was truly a girl, but asking a clearly adorable young girl, “Hey, you don’t happen to have something dangling between your legs, do you?” would get me treated like a complete lunatic.

Actually, given how dazed she was, she might just give me a straight answer. The problem was that even if I heard it from her own mouth, it wouldn’t clear the unsettling feeling. It would have been better if I didn’t know this was a BL novel. I felt a fleeting sense of regret before snapping out of it. Are you insane? It was a blessing I knew the genre and story; otherwise, I might have fallen into some guy’s trap and ended up rolling around in bed with him. And what’s with this “regret”? The kid is barely ten years old. I called the Crown Prince a pedo, but am I becoming one now too? You trash!

Contrasting my internal rage, my voice came out sweet. I was surprised by my own tone; if Dylan or Erkel had seen me, they would have been horrified.

“Do you mean… you want to see me again?”

A nod.

“Well, I’m not sure…”

I practically commuted to the palace, so I’d see her if she came back. But I hesitated to say that. It was fine to deal with a calculating guy like Elliot, but getting deeply entangled with a 4-D space-cadet beauty felt burdensome. Even if her dazed look was cute. Even if her face was lovely. Even if her glistening eyes were pretty.

Cici turned mopey. Her expression didn’t change, but the air around her seemed to sag into gloom.

She brightened slightly when I consoled her, saying we could meet at the upcoming banquet, but she still looked disappointed as she toyed with the hem of her skirt. Apparently, that was what she did when lost in thought or upset. She was simple enough for me to pick up on her habits in such a short time. Then, as if remembering something, Cici looked up. She unfastened a necklace that had been hidden under her clothes by its long chain and handed it to me.

[If found, please contact Rebecca Luxteal. Please call the child ‘Cici’.]

The sincerity was palpable in the neat, block letters, a stark contrast to fancy cursive. It seemed even her guardian thought she was dazed enough to get lost. When I touched the back of the necklace—somehow—a holographic-like window popped up. It was a “Cici User Manual.” Likes sour things; surprisingly eats bitter things but can’t handle spicy. Needs to be spoken to often…

So this is…

“An anti-lost necklace?”

Cici, looking proud of herself for handing over her contact info, blushed. “Can I… send a letter?” I couldn’t ignore the effort it took for her to speak a full, proper sentence for the first time, so I nodded.

“She wasn’t on the list. If a Dimension or a Klein were there, I would have told you.”

Erkel was sprawled on the sofa, tearing into a chocolate choux. He was eating with a savage intensity, like he was ripping meat off a bone. He looked ten years older than he had just a day ago. He had to maintain imperial dignity among the kids, be kind, and lead them well, all while not standing out too much in Annette’s eyes. He certainly had a lot of missions.

I toyed with the necklace Cici had left behind. Why leave this if she was going to write first anyway? I was overthinking it, but in cases like this, a simple judgment is often better. There was a high chance she just didn’t think much of it at all.

“What about Rebecca Luxteal? Is she a relevant character?”

“Dude, please. I finished writing this seven years ago. If I remembered every minor character’s name, I’d be in MENSA.”

Erkel grumbled but thought it over. “Luxteal, Luxteal…”

“If it’s Luxteal, it’s that family. The patrons.”

“Patrons?”

“Yeah. They sponsor artists in Robenus. That area doesn’t interact much with the capital, so the name isn’t well-known here, but I think I heard they’re famous in Robenus. Nobles sponsoring young artists are a dime a dozen there, but they say if you catch that person’s eye, your success is guaranteed. In Korean terms, maybe a massive entertainment agency?”

“Then is she a Luxteal?”

“Could be. What names have ‘Cici’ as a nickname? Elizabeth?”

“I’ll look into the Luxteal family tree for now.” Erkel, having shoved the rest of the choux into his mouth, reached for a cake. It was nice that the food stayed warm with magic so we didn’t have to keep calling servants. If I could take this back to Korea, I’d make a fortune.

“I get why you’re uneasy. It’s a total first-love gimmick.”

“First… are you crazy?”

Who are you calling a perverted pedo? When I recoiled in horror, he chuckled.

“You said she was cute and lovely. You don’t usually say stuff like that.”

“It’s just a fact that she’s pretty. Hey, shit, if I were the type to fall for a face, I would have folded for the Crown Prince ages ago.”

“Probably because Cici is a girl and the Crown Prince is a guy. If she really turns out to be a boy, do you think you’ll still find her cute and lovely?”

Probably not.

I imagined a certain something dangling under Cici’s dress. Ugh. If I found out she was a boy who’d grow thick bones and a beard, I definitely wouldn’t be able to think of her as “pretty” like I do now.

“And ‘first love’ is a light, cute term. Don’t be so lewd; think of it as something pure.”

“Argh, it’s not like that! Am I even in a position to be having a first love? Besides, the Crown Prince’s first love in the book was so damn obsessive.”

“That’s because he’s a creep.”

We laughed over things that would get us executed if overheard. Badmouthing a common enemy is always fun.

“I never wrote a cross-dressing setting for the kids… but since this is before the original story starts, who knows. I’ll look into it too. So, you… hey, you jerk. Don’t ditch me again.”

I had nothing to say to that. “I’ll try…” I mumbled. He glared, but his face was too soft to be truly intimidating. I could slip away if I wanted to, but I had some sense of loyalty.

Erkel started venting about Annette again as his stress returned. “If she wants power, she should do it herself! Why drag me into it? Tell her to do it with her six-year-old son!”

“You don’t think Cici is a lead?”

“Nope.”

“But you said you were uneasy.”

“I am, but… none of the leads have the kind of personality to put a baby bird back in its nest. They’re all trash.”

“Among the characters I poured my affection into, there are ‘lesser trash’ and ‘greater trash,’ but there are no non-trash!” I was dumbfounded by his proud declaration, but I had to admit it made sense. For context, Kim Min-ji’s motto back then was: ‘My heart only flutters for garbage.’

05. The Gift

What is even happening right now?

I had Elliot on my left and Helena on my right. Elliot stuck to me like a magnet, and Helena was clinging to my arm. Elliot is right there, so why me?

“Llewellyn, I’ve been thinking, calling each other by our full names is so dry. How about we use nicknames? How does ‘Lin’ sound? You can call me ‘Ella’ too.”

Helena pronounced “dry” slowly. It was a word far too difficult for a nine-year-old. I was certain that line came straight from Elliot’s head. Ah. This was the aftermath of his “just you wait.”

“I’m fine. I’ll pass.”

“Didn’t you say you shouldn’t refuse a lady’s request?”

“Exactly. El and I are already using nicknames.”

“It’s so nice to see you two using nicknames. Wouldn’t it seem more special if it were just the two of you, Helena?”

Helena, whose cheeks turned redder than her hair, let out a tiny squeal. Elliot, who had cooked her up and stuck her to my side, persuaded her with a voice that was sweet and gentle, while gripping my forearm firmly.

“But if you miss this chance, you might lose the opportunity to use nicknames forever. We don’t know if the gatherings will continue after the banquet. At the very least, we won’t see each other as often as we do now.”

Elliot lowered the ends of his brows as if he were heartbroken. He had the face of an environmentalist worrying about global warming. Helena listened to him as intensely as a student in the front row of a lecture, nodding along. “Right, right,” she chimed in. The two of them were perfectly in sync.

“Lin might not even go to the Academy. Maybe the next time we see each other will be after we’re all grown up.”

“Gasp!”

“Don’t call me nicknames so casually, Elliot.”

I tried to counterattack, but the ‘Helena-shield’ he chose was stronger than I expected. Helena grabbed my arm and shook it, whining—no, persuading—me, asking why I wasn’t going to the Academy and saying she had been looking forward to studying and playing together there. I’ll say it again: the lovely Helena talks a lot.

Only after I promised to meet her at the Academy did a satisfied Helena vanish to mingle with her cousin, Lucia. I felt like half my soul had been sucked out.

“Lying is a bad habit, Lin.”

“Elliot…”

“Aren’t you going to call me ‘El’? I only wanted us to be close; I’m hurt.”

Elliot’s face was more refreshed than ever. That annoying brat.

As I headed for a corner to leave him behind, he followed me like a shadow. “What?” I snapped irritably. “What if you slip away alone again?” he replied.

“I won’t. Don’t worry.”

“Really?”

“Yes. So why don’t you go back to Helena’s side? You two made a great pair.”

His relaxed face instantly stiffened. With a look of genuine disgust, Elliot shuddered. “Don’t talk nonsense.” It seemed his frustration had reached its limit. If I found it exhausting to deal with her for a short time, Elliot—who was Helena’s target—must have been mentally shredded already. At least I didn’t hate kids, but Elliot, despite being one himself, didn’t like them at all.