0.
I transmigrated into a novel.
Of all things, into a romance fantasy whose title I could barely remember.
The original plot?
I know it, roughly. The problem is that it’s only roughly.
I think the protagonist was a blond count’s daughter,
and the rival was a black-haired villainess.
Honestly, that’s all. I tossed the novel aside midway through volume one.
Instead, there are two things I know for certain.
That the former owner of this body was the fourth son of a ducal house.
And that I can use “hypnosis.”
Though calling it hypnosis makes it sound like more than it is. It’s only enough to lace my voice with a slight suggestion.
Putting people to sleep, helping them relax.
I merely opened a shop that added massages on top of that.
……But.
***
“Sir.”
The maid from a baron’s household, my very first customer. Right after her session, she spoke with her face slightly flushed.
“May I introduce a friend of mine to you? She’s been sensitive lately too…”
The friend she brought.
The friend’s older sister.
And even the count’s daughter who was that older sister’s mistress.
“Um, Counselor?”
She had come again today and was standing at the door.
Her eyes looked haggard. She clearly hadn’t been sleeping.
And yet, there was a strange heat mixed into her voice.
“Would it be possible to book another session…”
“Your last one was three days ago.”
“Yes.”
“And the one before that was five days before.”
“…Yes.”
“Lady Levantia, daughter of the count, that isn’t counseling. That’s addiction.”
“No.”
She took a step closer.
“If it were addiction, I wouldn’t be trembling like this.”
“If you’re trembling, that’s exactly addiction, what are you—”
She didn’t give me time to speak.
She simply drew close to me and whispered in my ear with a face that looked almost pleading.
“After I receive a session, all my fatigue melts away. My skin has gotten better too. My shoulders don’t hurt anymore.”
“……”
“But strangely, your face keeps coming to mind, and I can’t sleep.”
Ah.
This wasn’t what I intended.
“So you have to take responsibility.”
Beneath her languid smile, I quietly closed the counseling room door.
I thought I’d be able to live decently enough.
But perhaps it won’t be merely decent.