IPDE 01

Chapter : 01

I’d Rather Not Take the Death Route, Even as an Extra (1)

“……Ugh.”

This was a situation I had never anticipated.

My previously buoyant mood vanished without a trace, replaced entirely by confusion.

‘What… is that…….’

Faced with a situation I hadn’t predicted even a little, it was hard to make a proper judgment.

Amid the chaos, the only thing that caught my eye was the hilt of a sword being drawn, as if in slow motion.

Shrrng.

A chilling sound rang out.

“Your Highness, surely you don’t mean—!”

“Iart!”

Those were the cries of Taron, his secretary, and Ruella, his fiancée.

Everyone in the room turned their gaze toward Iart.

Yet not a single person dared to approach him.

The sharply gleaming blade, along with its staggering owner, drew closer and closer to me.

My head was filled with thoughts of needing to run away, but my feet felt as though they were bound—I couldn’t move at all.

Then, suddenly, last night’s events flashed through my mind.

‘Damn it… that cursed book—this is what it was?’

Blink. Blink.

It was truly only an instant.

In the time it took to blink a couple of times, everything around me had changed.

“W-What is this?!”

I cried out without realizing it.

The space was unfamiliar and spacious—at least twice as large as my studio apartment.

And these clothes I was wearing—what were they supposed to be?

They weren’t overly extravagant, but they were clearly a dress.

Why was I wearing something like this, and why was I in a room like this?

Just a moment ago, I was definitely…….

“Did I… die?”

Then is this the afterlife?

No way. That’s ridiculous.

I let out a hollow laugh and shook my head.

It had been an ordinary day, but my walk home from work felt unusually light.

The reason was simple: the final chapter of my favorite romance fantasy novel, Evening Primrose, was about to be released.

With a pounding heart, I waited for the traffic signal and began reading the first page.

Everyone else had already abandoned it, calling it a terrible novel, but at least to me, it was the best story ever.

Why?

Because of Crown Prince Iart Carton—the villain.

“……Are you kidding me?!”

Following the people next to me, I crossed the street, then suddenly stopped and shouted.

My favorite character, Iart—Iart!

“He died! He’s dead!”

Sure, Iart was a villain, but none of the evil deeds he committed were truly of his own will.

How many times had I cried alongside him as he regretted his actions and suffered in silence?

And they killed him off in the ending like this.

Tears welled up at the sheer emptiness of it all.

HOOOOONK.

Then, a blaring horn tore through the air.

I hurriedly turned my head, but my vision was already flooded with white.

That was all I remembered.

It was such a fleeting moment that I didn’t even have time to think I was dying.

What’s more, I hadn’t felt even the slightest bit of pain.

Instinctively, I rolled up my sleeve and examined my arm.

“Huh… what? Was I always this pale?”

The strangely clean, fair skin and its smooth texture felt unfamiliar.

Touching my face yielded the same result.

I looked around the room, then walked over to the mirror hanging on the wall.

“……Who are you?”

There wasn’t a single thing about this face that resembled mine.

No, from the start, it was impossible for it to resemble me at all.

Reddish-brown hair cascaded down to the chest like gentle waves, and the eyes were a striking gold.

A round face, delicate features, and snow-white skin.

As I stood there blankly staring into the mirror—

Knock, knock.

“Eirenea, may I come in for a moment?”

A gentle voice accompanied the knock.

Eirenea? Was that a name?

“Uh—ah, yes……!”

The answer slipped out before I could stop it.

Soon after, the door opened carefully, and a woman with a wistful expression stepped inside.

“Eirenea, are you all ready?”

So Eirenea was my name.

While I stood there in a daze, the woman glanced around the room.

“Oh, so this is the bag. I’ll have it loaded into the carriage beforehand.”

“Th-Thank you.”

I had no idea what was going on, but judging by the size of the bag and the conversation, it seemed like today was a departure day.

The woman slowly approached me and clasped both of my hands.

Then, in a voice that sounded on the verge of tears, she said,

“You were so firm about it that I accepted it, but Mother is still worried.”

I didn’t understand a word without knowing the context, but I nodded anyway.

“And to think you’ll be serving as a maid in the Crown Prince’s palace… They say that madness can strike at any time…….”

As soon as she finished speaking, the woman—apparently my mother—began to cry.

In a situation where I felt like I should cry along with her, my heart started racing wildly.

For a ‘romance fantasy addict’ like me, I had just heard the words Crown Prince.

And madness, on top of that.

It matched the setting of Evening Primrose all too well.

“At least Edwin is in the knight order, so that’s a relief… You must rely on each other and live well together. All right, Eirenea?”

“Yes.”

I smiled brightly and nodded.

Still, neither the name Eirenea nor Edwin rang any bells.

There was so much I didn’t understand.

Well, I figured I’d find out once I got there.

With my heart full of anticipation, I left the room.

The imperial palace was far larger and more splendid than I had imagined—no, far more.

As I walked down the corridors, I could do nothing but marvel inwardly.

I’d thought the mansion I saw while boarding the carriage that morning was already impressive.

Compared to the palace, it was almost like a toy house—no exaggeration.

“Ugh… I feel sick.”

As expected, my first carriage ride was a terrible experience.

I wanted to ask them to stop and jump out several times, but I endured it stubbornly.

When I entered my assigned room, neatly arranged bedding and a desk immediately came into view.

“Why am I this tired over nothing?”

Grumbling, I forced my sluggish body to move and began unpacking.

“……A book?”

After taking everything out, I found a small book at the very bottom of my luggage.

It had a dark brown cover with a rose-vine-like pattern.

When I tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge at all, as if it were completely stiff.

“What is this thing?”

I tried again with all my strength, then gave up and was about to set it down when I noticed a small compartment on the back.

“Name……? Am I supposed to write my name?”

I rummaged through my bag, took out a small pen, and wrote my name.

“Waaah!”

The moment I finished writing and lowered the pen, light began to seep out of the book.

Floating slightly above my palm, the pages slowly began to turn on their own.

Clutching my pounding chest, I carefully read the words written inside.

[You have become the new protagonist who will change the story of Evening Primrose.]

Inside Evening Primrose.

The doubt I had feared was instantly confirmed.

But a new protagonist?

What was that supposed to mean?

[When the altered story reaches its conclusion, the protagonist will also face an ending based on the probability of death.]

[The probability of death may change depending on subtitle and keyword involvement.]

Probability of death? Keyword involvement?

I thought something incredible must be written, given how brightly it was glowing.

But still, one thing was now crystal clear.

This place was the Carton Empire—the setting of Evening Primrose.

Which meant—

“I can meet Iart……!”

The villain Iart doesn’t even appear on the cover.

The thought of seeing my favorite character in the flesh—someone I’d only ever imagined—made my heart race.

With a grin that looked like I was about to drool, I naturally turned the page.

[Prologue. Survival]

[Keywords: Dessert, Madness]

[Current probability of death: 99%]

Before falling asleep, I wondered if this might all be a dream.

But when I opened my eyes, the same space from yesterday greeted me.

After getting ready and standing in front of the mirror, the face I’d seen only once somehow felt oddly familiar.

And I liked today’s maid uniform far more than the dress I wore yesterday.

‘Meeting Iart.’

That single sentence filled my mind.

All the talk last night about being a new protagonist and changing the story barely registered.

Only the unpleasant-sounding 99% death probability bothered me a little.

But honestly, it didn’t feel real.

I simply savored the excitement of meeting my favorite character and headed toward the kitchen.

“Good morning!”

I greeted everyone cheerfully as I stepped inside.

Everyone looked busy with their own tasks.

What was I supposed to do?

Since I didn’t know anything, there was nothing I could do—but standing around doing nothing didn’t suit me either.

I decided to ask.

“Um… what should I do?”

I spoke to the maid closest to me, who looked about my age.

She had sharp-looking eyes and prominent freckles.

“We don’t need any help over here.”

“Oh… I see…….”

Her curt tone made me feel a bit awkward.

As I stood there fiddling with the hem of my skirt, a familiar face appeared.

“Head Maid!”

It was Sophie, the head maid who had briefly shown me around the Crown Prince’s palace yesterday.

“Oh, you’re here. What was your name again?”

“Eirenea.”

“Right, Eirenea. Today you can just help with some simple ingredient prep.”

“Yes.”

As I followed Sophie further inside, a loud noise suddenly rang out.

Crash!

“Kyaa!”

“What was that?!”

Sophie and I both jumped and looked toward the sound.

Dough and various ingredients were scattered all over the floor, and there stood the freckled maid from earlier, pale and trembling.

“I-I’m so sorry—”

“Can’t you pay attention?!”

It seemed she had spilled the ingredients while carrying them on a tray.

Before she could even finish apologizing, an older man—who looked like the head pastry chef—shouted angrily.

The freckled maid shrank back, shaking, on the verge of tears.

“Haa…….”

The pastry chef let out a deep sigh, frowning.

Looking at the table, it seemed only meringue was left.

I followed Sophie as she approached him.

“Is there nothing we can use right away?”

“Yes. We could make something, but we don’t have enough time.”

Their expressions slowly filled with despair.

Meringue.

Meringue cookies would work.

“Um…….”

“Eirenea, could you help Serena clean up in the back for now?”

“Oh—yes.”

Cut off decisively, I stepped back.

I went over to the freckled maid—no, Serena—and began picking up the spilled ingredients.

“Excuse me.”

“What.”

Serena replied curtly, glancing at me with reddened eyes as she fought back tears.

“If there’s meringue, couldn’t we make meringue cookies?”

“……What’s that?”

“You don’t know… what meringue cookies are?”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

She’d never heard of meringue cookies?

Did they not exist here?

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t really my problem.

But—

This was dessert my favorite character would eat.

Imagining Iart eating a dessert I’d made, I made up my mind.

“I’ll make them!”

I jumped to my feet and shouted.

“…What?”

Serena, the pastry chef, and Sophie all looked at me in surprise.

Pointing at the meringue, I said,

“I know how to make cookies with meringue.”

“Cookies from meringue?”

The pastry chef strode up to me and asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ve never heard of such a recipe. We can’t serve the Crown Prince an unproven dessert.”

“But it looks like there’s nothing else we can make right now……”

The pastry chef fell silent, seemingly unable to refute that.

“I’ll make them first—couldn’t you try them and then decide?”

“……You sound pretty confident in desserts.”

Of course I was.

Since high school, I’d worked part-time at a bakery, learning along the way and eventually earning certification. As soon as I became an adult, I got a job as a patissier.

My career wasn’t long, but I believed I had talent.

“Yes. Please try them first and then decide.”

“Hm.”

After a moment of stroking his chin in thought, the pastry chef nodded.

“Fine. Go ahead and make them.”