What Happened When I Gave Everything to the Girl Who Sold Herself as a Prostitute After Losing It All - Chapter 1.1

Chapter 1.1

I reincarnated.

And not just any reincarnation.

I was the third prince of the great Azvorde Empire.

The emperor’s blood.

Vast wealth.

A status I was born into.

Power that promised me the future.

On top of that, my magic power was off the charts.

As a baby, I laughed inside my cradle.

(Heh—hahahaha!)

I won.

I beat life.

In my previous life, I’d been ordinary.

No, maybe that’s rude to the word “ordinary.” I had no special talent, no money, no luck—just the kind of guy who slowly got ground down in the gaps between society’s gears.

And now, in this next life, I had everything from the very start.

I could do whatever I wanted.

Do the things I felt like doing.

Eat what I wanted to eat, see what I wanted to see, get what I wanted to get, and just play around with the whole world.

Little me was thrilled about the future.

—And then fifteen years passed.

“…This is boring.”

I was sprawled on a luxurious chaise longue, and I muttered it from the bottom of my heart.

Outside the window lay the imperial capital.

Polished stone pavement, rows of pristine white buildings, and the distant spires of the imperial castle. Today, just like every day, it was a picture-perfect scene of prosperity.

But my heart didn’t race at all.

Whenever I got invited to tea parties, the noble kids all put on the same fake smiles.

“As expected of Your Highness!”

“No one is as gifted with the sword as Your Highness!”

“Your Highness’s insight is truly awe-inspiring—”

Shut up.

At sword tournaments, nobody went all out until the finals.

Even the teachers in class watched my face for every little reaction.

The maids and attendants all made sure not to upset my mood first and foremost.

The nobles my age acted like friends, but in their heads they were only thinking about building connections with the third prince.

The adults were the same.

One wrong move meant disrespecting the imperial family; a good move could be their ticket to promotion.

No one who talked to me while carrying that kind of baggage could ever treat me as an equal.

If I cleared my throat, the air would freeze. If I cracked a joke, everyone would laugh.

Whether it was actually funny didn’t matter.

They laughed because I said it.

…To be honest, it was hell.

Back when I didn’t have any of this, I’d envied the people who did.

But once you have everything, the process of getting things stops existing.

If I wanted something, I just had to order it and it appeared.

Every contest was over before it even started.

People were already on their knees from the beginning.

Where was the fun in any of that?

“Your Highness. Are you feeling unwell?”

Butler Gareth asked in an overly gentle voice.

“Yeah, it’s bad. Really bad. I’m so bored with life I feel like I’m gonna die.”

“I see.”

“Don’t make that straight face. At least act a little shaken up.”

Gareth didn’t even twitch one of his gray-streaked eyebrows.

“Your Highness telling jokes like that is perfectly normal.”

“But I’m not joking?”

“Then it’s even further beyond my ability to handle.”

This guy had served me for years, so the usual fear of the imperial family had worn pretty thin.

That was actually valuable, but he was an old man. He could never be a real equal friend.

I looked up at the ceiling and let out a big sigh.

“Hey, Gareth.”

“Yes.”

“What do you think I need?”

“Perhaps some humility.”

“Wrong.”

“Then self-restraint.”

“Wrong.”

“It must be patience.”

“Do you want your pay cut right now?”

Gareth bowed deeply.

“What Your Highness needs is someone who won’t treat you as Your Highness.”

“…”

I slowly sat up.

“What did you just say?”

“Someone who doesn’t fear you as the third prince, doesn’t flatter you, and approaches you without any hidden motives.”

“That’s it!”

The moment I stood up without thinking, the tea set on the table jumped.

Gareth caught it silently.

“That’s it! That’s exactly it!”

“I’m glad.”

“Why didn’t you say that sooner!”

“Even if I had, Your Highness would probably have asked where such a person could possibly be.”

“…Yeah, I probably would have.”

That was exactly right.

There was no way anyone would treat a member of the imperial family as an equal.

At least not from the start.

But—what if it wasn’t from the start?

What if there were no preconceptions?

What if it was someone who didn’t know my status, my wealth, or my power?

Or what if I just gave them all the same things I had?

The moment that thought hit me, it flashed through my mind like lightning.

“Gareth.”

“Yes.”

“I hear there’s a big slave market opening soon.”

“…That is not a very admirable hobby.”

“No, no. Not like that.”

I snapped my fingers.

“Buy one person around my age.”

“Yes.”

“After buying them, free them from slave status.”

“Yes.”

“Then give them money, status, education, and authority.”

“Yes.”

“Raise them up to the same level as me.”

“Yes.”

“That way I’ll have someone I can talk to as an equal!”

There was a short silence.

For the first time, Gareth narrowed his eyes just a tiny bit.

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t doubt me now.”

Gareth put a hand to his mouth.

“…I understand the logic.”

“Right?”

“But, Your Highness. People aren’t objects. Just because you give them things doesn’t mean they’ll turn out exactly as you hope.”

“Of course. But it’s worth trying.”

“What if the other person becomes obsessed with you?”

“No way. If anything, they’ll definitely be wary.”

I snorted.

“Imagine suddenly getting bought, then freed, then told you’ll get education, money, and power. Anyone normal would think there’s a catch. That’s exactly why it’s good. They’ll doubt me without holding back and bite back without hesitation.”

“I see.”

“That’s the kind of person I want.”

I clenched my fist.

“Someone who won’t flatter me.”

“Yes.”

“Someone who won’t fear me.”

“Yes.”

“Someone who’ll talk back to me straight.”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that the best?”

Gareth gave me a look that was downright pitying.

“What Your Highness wants is, in short, a friend.”

“You could say that.”

＊＊＊

The next day.

I had disguised myself and come to the big market in the southern district of the imperial capital.

Of course, I had guards.

Two in the shadows. Three more keeping their distance.

There was no way the third prince would just stroll into a slave market alone. If I did that, my brothers would lecture me before my father even got the chance.

On the surface, I was just the son of a rich noble.

I’d hidden my hair color, taken off the imperial crest, and worn plain clothes. …Well, plain, but the tailoring was still obviously high quality.

The market was full of noise.

Merchants stroking beastkin fur like it was merchandise.

Men showing off their strength, former bodyguards.

Kids lined up for menial labor.

Farmers brought in as debt collateral.

Former criminals.

It was a disgusting sight, and I thought so honestly.

Maybe because I still had my previous life’s sense of ethics.

But in this world, it wasn’t anything rare. Since it was openly allowed, the only way to get rid of it was to break the system itself. Today wasn’t the day for that.

“Your Highness, is there anything that catches your eye?”

The merchant acting as my guide sidled up with a sticky voice.

“Watch your mouth. If you call me that here, I’ll have your head.”

“Hii…! M-my deepest apologies, sir!”

…Yeah, this is what always happens.

I swallowed a sigh and let my eyes wander.

What I needed wasn’t looks.

It wasn’t obedience, either.

Someone healthy, sharp-minded, and who wouldn’t flatter me.

Preferably around my age.

Since I was fifteen, give or take a year.

I saw a few.

But they were no good.

The ones completely terrified would need their hearts rebuilt from scratch.

The ones with only greed glittering in their eyes would probably self-destruct the moment I gave them power.

The ones who’d given up and gone completely lifeless weren’t right either.

“Oh?”

At the edge of the street.

In front of a slightly shabbier tent than the others, one cage caught my eye.

Inside was a girl.

She looked about the same age as me, or maybe one year younger.

She was thin, but not unhealthily so.

Her ash-silver hair was cut even at shoulder length, and her clothes were worse than plain—they were ragged.

But her posture was strangely good.

And above all, her eyes weren’t dead.

They weren’t the eyes of someone lined up in a slave market.

Not the eyes of a beast waiting for prey, nor a weak person begging for help.

They were just quietly, coldly observing everything around her.

“…What about that one?”

“Ah, that one is a bit of a special case.”

The merchant lowered his voice.

“She sold herself.”

“She did?”

“Yes. Her family fell apart, she has no parents, and she wanted to feed her younger siblings. Her background is clean enough, but she has no charm and doesn’t try to flatter buyers, so she’s been left over a bit.”

“Her name?”

“Fine.”

Fine.

I walked right up to the cage.

The girl looked up at me.

She didn’t hurriedly bow her head like the others or put on a fake smile.

She just looked at me, sizing me up.

Good.

Really good.

“Aren’t you scared of me?”

When I said that, the girl blinked once.

“I am scared.”

“You don’t look at it.”

“Even if I showed it, the price wouldn’t go up.”

My mouth loosened without thinking.

The merchant went pale.

“Y-you, girl! Talking to the customer like—”

“Shut up. This is the good part.”

I crouched down and met the girl’s eyes through the bars.

“Did you come here by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“To feed your siblings?”

“Is there any other reason to sell yourself on purpose?”

Her voice had almost no inflection.

But there were thorns in it.

It was the voice of someone who had no intention of humbling herself more than necessary, no matter who she was talking to.

I kept going.

“Your family?”
“Father failed in business and made debts. He couldn’t pay them back and died of illness. Mother followed soon after. What was left was the house and belongings seized, plus my hungry little brother and sister.”

In the same matter-of-fact tone, the girl said it.

“I looked for work, but you know how much they’ll pay a child. So the only thing to do was sell the one thing that would fetch the highest price. My body is mine, after all.”

“…”

That wasn’t something most people could say.

It was more dry than brave.

She had probably long passed the stage where crying would change anything.

“Didn’t you think about what would happen after you got bought?”

“I did.”

“And you still came?”

“If my brother and sister could see tomorrow, I didn’t care what happened to me.”

For the first time, the girl lowered her eyes just a little.

“That’s the calculation.”

That single sentence left me strangely impressed.

It wasn’t self-sacrifice.

It wasn’t love for humanity or playing the tragic heroine.

She had properly calculated the gains and losses and come to sell herself.

That was exactly why she was strong.

“Interesting.”

“That’s the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

“I’m not trying to pick you up.”