"Rosanna Castus was an elusive figure. Even when she was treated as an outcast by her mother's family, the Maures, nobles who can glimpse her within the mansion speak of two things — how her snow-white hair glistened like silver threads in the morning light, and her clear blue eyes shone brighter than the skies. It was a beautiful face that was as comely as its owner; giving off the impression that she could do no wrong."
-About Rosanna Castus, The Black Rose Wiki
***
As the headmaster of Cyrilla Academy, Horace Pryor held every student to high standards — chastising the way they dressed, spoke, and even the way they formed their connections in class. This was because Cyrilla Academy was the most prestigious school in the empire — known to produce graduates that serve the Imperial Court, and on rare occasions, the Imperial Family themselves. Horace Pryor had been one of those lucky graduates, as the game liked to emphasize. With his trademark coat, black wooden cane, and world-weary eyes, Horace Pryor marked the typical strict headmaster - and he was.
However, his exceedingly high standards held a special clause when it came to Rosanna, as he bent the rules countless times just for her. Throughout all endings, Horace Pryor had consistently saved Rosanna from several red flag events: like clearing her name in an alleged cheating incident, vouching for her in court, and testifying against Rosanna's rival, Viola Adelais.
The game lore offered no motivations for this ridiculous favoritism aside from the Headmaster's past, which seems to reflect Rosanna's struggles in the Academy. Bullying, discrimination, being underestimated just because of social statuses - all of these were recurring themes in Tales of the Black Rose, both in the main plot and monthly events. Still, objectively speaking, Horace Pryor had nothing to gain by siding with an orphan whose household influence had long declined. But he did so anyway, probably because of Rosanna's protagonist halo. In these types of games, everyone can't help but love the protagonist, and it would only make sense for that ability to extend to NPCs.
Amelia hated him for it. She always wished she had someone who backed her up in everything she did, much like her blockmates who knew all the right people in college and eventually used it in getting jobs. It didn't matter how hard Amelia worked or how late she stayed up at night. Because of people like Rosanna and the headmaster, diligent people like Amelia always got the short end of the stick.
But while Amelia hated this preferential treatment in-game, she was grateful for it now. Given all the abuses she's set to experience under the Maures, the Headmaster actually appeared at the right time, for whatever reason that Amelia couldn't care less about. Perhaps she could sneak off his carriage and run away before the blasted plot unfolds, set out and pursue a completely different story — the possibilities were endless.
"Did you really have a fever, dear?" Headmaster Pryor asked once they were left in the privacy of closed doors. Felicia Maure had begrudgingly ushered them into one of the mansion's drawing rooms upon the Headmaster's request, leaving them with two maids serving under the Maures, and the Headmaster's secretary.
The request was under the pretense of the Headmaster discussing education-related matters with Rosanna, all while her little brother snored away in the bedroom. They even prepared tea and snacks for the two of them to consume. However, only Amelia ended up eating them, unable to stop herself from inhaling the scones. She blamed Rosanna's fever-ridden body - what kind of heroine allowed herself to get so hungry and so sick?
"Well?" The Headmaster prompted again.
She had been so busy devouring the pastries that she didn't realize the Headmaster had asked her a question and had been waiting for her response. The spoon almost cluttered out of her grasp.
Amelia glanced at the maids, then to the Headmaster's Secretary. The woman gave her a little nod, as if to say, it's okay.
"I-I did have a fever," She whispered, putting down her utensils. She hoped her voice sounded every bit as the in-game Rosanna should have — delicate — fragile, even.
Truth be told, the moment she woke up in Rosanna's body, her fingers and limbs had taken a while to regain their feeling. Her throat burned (it still does), and there was a chill in her bones that no amount of tea can wash away.
Almost as if the chill from that Christmas eve had followed her all the way to the next life.
The Headmaster simply smiled. "I see," he said. "It seemed that your aunt is telling the truth this time. How are you feeling? Do you think we need to call for a doctor?"
Like this, Horace Pryor was every bit of the doting Headmaster the player base labeled him as. He appeared to be genuinely concerned for her, like a father looking out for his daughter. Amelia's hatred for Rosanna suddenly intensified.
First, the protagonist gets a cute little brother, and now she gets a caring mentor?
Unfair.
Back home, she could bet that no one in her workplace gave a damn about Amelia Sola - not her coworkers, not her subordinates, and certainly not her boss who thought it was okay to let her wok during the holidays. Amelia Sola had frozen in the cold, alone, while Rosanna gets almost everyone around her to fuss over a simple fever.
Just like a weak, pathetic little flower, she thought.
Amelia watched as the Headmaster's Secretary began piling up papers in front of her, each written in a language she can't read nor recognize. Her blood ran cold. As Rosanna, she's expected to be able to read and write at this age, and with flying colors too! The main character was a genius, skilled with the arts, etiquette, arithmetic, and all things Amelia wasn't. It wouldn't make sense if she suddenly regressed to a blank slate.
Unless...
"Do you recognize these papers?" The Headmaster popped in as if reading her mind. There was an expectant look on his face, one that reminded Amelia so much of her coworkers in the office when they asked Amelia whether or not she had prepared this month's pitch.
She initially planned to fake amnesia, but who was she kidding? Between acting dumb and acting like she knew what was going on, it was obvious which one was easier for Amelia.
"Of course," she lied.
She immediately regretted her decision as the Headmaster straightened up, shedding every inch of whatever caring figure Amelia thought of him as.
"Good," he said, handing the papers to Amelia. "I suppose you understand what needs to be done from this point onwards, Rosanna. This is everything you need to pass the exam. Once you're finished, you are to burn these papers and never speak of them to anyone."
Wait—are these answer sheets? So Rosanna didn't pass her exams effortlessly?
Amelia skimmed the papers — as expected, she couldn't understand a fucking thing — but one thing was certain.
"Are you helping me cheat, sir?" She asked, unable to keep the indignance in her voice. Regardless of how much the Headmaster favored Rosanna, this is too much. What about the Academy's reputation? His duty as a teacher? Even as a mundane person in her previous life, Amelia never resorted to academic dishonesty!
"I'm not helping you," the Headmaster crossed his fingers over his lap, unperturbed. "I am only fulfilling my end of the deal, paid in advance. We cannot afford complacence. Once you take your exams, you're on your own."
Amelia looked at the Headmaster's secretary, wondering what she made of all this. Surely she must have some opinions about her superior's actions. But their eyes didn't even get to meet — somewhere around them, the Headmaster's secretary had developed a new interest in the pastries, and the maids have made themselves scarce.
What deal is he talking about? Amelia thought frantically. Why is this allowed? Was the protagonist halo THAT strong? Did she somehow amplify Rosanna's charms? Is she getting free passes in life from now on?
"I-I can't promise anything, sir." She blurted out. "I can't even guarantee that my aunt will let me take the exam, and I can't leave my brother—"
"No need to worry, young mistress. " the Headmaster's Secretary cut her off. "As I said, I will be tutoring him during your time at the Academy — I'll make sure no harm ever comes his way. You have my word."
In the original game, young Maximillian had stayed in the care of the Maures, right until his tragic death around Act III. Now Amelia didn't harbor any particular feelings towards Rosanna's little brother — she hardly cared about the MC herself — but when she thought back on that adorable kid that slept in her bed...somehow she couldn't bear the thought of any harm coming his way.
Maybe the Headmaster's secretary tutoring him will make a difference, just as Amelia's sudden transmigration had begun affecting the plot in ways she can't even imagine. First was the Headmaster's arrival, then the cheating, and now, the Headmaster's Secretary. These never happened before.
"As long as my brother remains safe, I suppose I can accept your offer," Amelia told them. It was the truth. As much as the word 'brother' remained foreign in her tongue...that little kid had cried for her. It was probably already way beyond what Amelia Sola got in her old life.
Amelia cleared her throat. "I'll leave him in your care, miss...?"
The Headmaster and his secretary exchanged looks.
"Diana Quintus," the secretary offered her hand, in a business-like way that Amelia immediately recognized out of habit. She shook the lady's hand, firm and steady.
"Thank you, Miss Diana Quintus." She said. Whoever you are. Amelia swore that there was no such person in the game, and now all of a sudden she got to meet a new character!
The Headmaster clapped his hands together, signaling the maids to begin cleaning up the table. They were surprisingly attuned to every bit of his demands, almost as if they were his own servants instead of the Maures'.
"Splendid," he smiled at Amelia, slipping back into his old persona like the past few minutes never happened. "In this case, the next time we meet, I will be your Headmaster, and you, one of my students. I am looking forward to your performance, Rosanna. Do your mother proud."
Amelia held the papers close to her chest, forcing out a smile. She absolutely had no idea what he was saying, but it when it came to performances, Amelia had never served anything less.
"I'll do my best, sir."
***
"Something's changed," The Headmaster murmured, toying with the carvings on his cane.
Across from him, his secretary hummed in approval. The carriage made little noise as they left the Maure Estate — soundless, almost like the falling snow. They received an aristocrat's welcome upon arrival, but given their treatment towards the Lady of the House, it only made sense for them to be ushered out like uninvited guests. Felicia Maura has, after all, has her reputation and pride to uphold.
"My dear Rosanna has so much life in her eyes today," the Headmaster continued, unbothered by the Maures rather offensive goodbye. He stared out at the window with a small smile on his face, which indicated that the visit could be considered a success. "I wonder why that is?"
The lady seating across from him had no answer. So much life, so he said, yet Rosanna Castus looked as pale as a corpse. Even her fingers were tinged a little blue, still yet to regain their warmth.
If the Headmaster noticed this, he didn't let on. "She can't even remember your name. Do you think the Maures are up to their tricks again?"
This time, Diana Quintus finally looked at the man across her, contemplating how someone could sound so sincere yet fake at the same time. From the outside, it probably looked like he was genuinely concerned about the well-being of his godchildren — making sure that they adjusted well despite the death of their parents. But Diana Quintus knew in her many years of working under him that this man held no love in his heart, save for the desire to topple the kingdom to its feet. He would stop at nothing just to get what he wanted...even if it meant using two innocent children for his schemes.
Correction: one innocent child, because Rosanna Castus is anything but that.
"Perhaps the young mistress is preparing for her new role," she said, meaning it. "Perhaps she was practicing — you know how she is."
She wondered if the sickness was a part of the preparation. After all, if there was anyone that rivaled Horace Pryor's two-faced mask, it would be the saintess Rosanna Castus, who lied as easily as she breathed.
Pretending to be sick and acting surprised as if the papers had not been your idea. Diana Quintus thought begrudgingly, remembering the young girl's lost expression. Ah, young mistress. Your parents would turn into their graves if they can see what you've become.