A Side Character's Guide to Surviving an Otome Game

Cale POV

A/N: Heyyyyy....

Ahahahaha.

Yeahhhhhh.....

So it's been a hot second, hasn't it? I broke my arm after tripping over a duck and typing's hard to do when your right arm is like trapped in a sling. Also I had a brief case of writer's block, which may be why this chapter isn't the best. So here's the next chapter, kinda short, hope you like it!

Also. PSA: avoid places with geese. They are vicious and will chase you. Also ducks like to trip you, so be careful around ducks.

Also. Note: no ducks were injured. I was, though. Stupid geese and ducks.

Ambrose Finley was a truly fascinating individual.

He was lazy, to the point where he almost always seemed half asleep. He adored money, yet was selective on where he spent it, as if he was afraid his overwhelming fortune would run out. He was sweet and kind, trustworthy and caring, yet not hesitant to get revenge when someone landed on his bad side.

To Cale, Ambrose deserved so much more than what the world had given him.

He remembered the day his family heard the news- the Finley manor was attacked, set ablaze by an unknown villain, leaving all seven members of the Finley family dead. All, that is, except Ambrose, the youngest son and Cale's best friend. Cale could remember the day Ambrose was rushed into the Henituse manor, the way his father had immediately ordered for the kingdom's best doctors to come and save the boy's life. Ambrose was in a coma for over a month, suffering from dead mana-poisoned burns, before waking up with absolutely total amnesia.

Perhaps it was better this way, Ambrose not remembering the murder of his family.

Cale had stayed with Ambrose every step of the way during his recovery, insisting that his father allow Ambrose to live in the Henituse manor instead of letting Ambrose move into one of the Finleys' many properties throughout the kingdom. He was there when Ambrose learned he would never be able to properly walk again without help. He was there when Ambrose received his first cane. He was there when Ambrose began learning to walk again, catching him whenever he fell. He was there when Ambrose first accepted his father's title of Marquess and the responsibilities that came with it, becoming the youngest Marquess in Roan history.

He was there in almost every single one of Ambrose's memories since he woke up in that guest room five years ago.

Ambrose was his best friend, the only thing keeping him from going off the deep end.

The crown prince was not going to steal him away with honey-dripping words and fancy parties.

Though the prince didn't seem to know that, considering the heart eyes he was currently flashing to Cale's companion.

Cale glared at the blond-haired prince standing in front of him and Ambrose, his eyes filled with hate and promising vengeance should the prince attempt to separate the two friends.

Alberu ignored him as his bright blue eyes locked onto the silver-haired man next to Cale. "Marquess Finley. A pleasure to see you. I hope the journey was well?" He smiled his plastic-y smile.

Ambrose inclined his head. "A pleasure indeed, my prince. The journey was quite excellent for a teleportation circle. I thank you for allowing us access to the royal teleportation circle." Ambrose's words were formally polite, his entire demeanor one any nobleman's tutor would cry tears of joy over.

Alberu's bright smile seemed to brighten even more. "Of course! I couldn't possibly have the young Marquess Finley worsening his condition with a long journey via carriage, now could I?" He offered Ambrose a gloved hand. "May I have the pleasure of escorting you to your seat?"

Ambrose gave Alberu an even brighter smile, but Cale could see the annoyance in the tightness of his jaw. "I would love that, your highness, but unfortunately I already have an escort."

"I'm sure the young Lord Henituse wouldn't mind," Alberu pushed, taking a step closer and amping up his smile even more.

The two continued to smile brightly at each other. To the unsuspecting eye, it was an idyllic scene- the wealthy, handsome, and famously kind Lord Finley greeting the Crown Prince of the kingdom. However, Cale had grown used to these interactions between the two silver-tongued men, and he could see Ambrose's mouth beginning to tighten almost imperceptibly with annoyance and Alberu's eyes flashing with greed and amusement.

The two were having a complete conversation despite not even saying anything, something that Cale both hated and admired at the same time.

Cale would never be able to navigate court the way Ambrose did, being far too abrasive and opinionated and emotional to handle the delicate steps that court required, the sly interactions that seemed to come to people like Ambrose and the prince so easily and naturally.

Then again, he didn't particularly care for delicately sly wordplay.

Cale quickly took Ambrose's hand and lightly tugged his friend closer to his side. "I must apologize, your Highness. I'm afraid that, as Marquess Finley's escort, I am simply unable to abandon my duties. A noble's pride, after all." He flashed a blatantly insincere smile, one that screamed Mine .

Alberu's eyes darkened with dislike as he stared into Cale's eyes, the calm sky blue briefly shifting into that of a stormy sea.

Cale resisted the urge to shudder and back away, instead tightening his grip on Ambrose's hand and standing as tall as he possibly could, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in a dog-like smile.

Ambrose quickly smacked Cale on the shin with his cane yet again, the elegantly carved wood hitting the practically permanent bruise on his leg. Cale let go of Ambrose's hand with a gasp of pain. "My prince, the sunshine of the Roan Kingdom, pride of the land," Ambrose drawled, his voice sweet and polite and dripping with a poison only Cale could hear, "I would love to take you up on your kind offer. However, surely you must have princely duties and other nobles to greet, correct? It would be a shame for Lord Henituse and I to take up your time, would it not?"

Alberu's eyes tightened for a second, disappointment and annoyance flashing across his face for the briefest moment before agreeing. "Of course. You have an excellent point, Marquess Finley." The prince bowed his head slightly at the two. "I wish the two of you a pleasant time."

"Of course, my prince ," Cale said sweetly, feeling victorious as he took Ambrose's hand once more and helped lead him up the stairs and towards the table where the other northeastern nobles sat.

"I told you, that bastard's obviously hitting on you," Cale whispered as they entered the bustling hall.

Ambrose smacked him again with his cane. "Don't call the crown prince a bastard, you idiot. Do you wish to be executed for treason? And for the last time. He's. Not. Hitting. On. Me."

Cale yelped at the small jolt of pain. Ow . He was pretty sure his shins were just eternally bruised at this point. "Sure..." he drawled. "You are so oblivious, aren't you?"

He was rewarded with another painful smack on his already-bruised shins.

Cale looked over at his friend, whose face was screwed up in concentration as he carefully maneuvered through the crowd.

Ambrose Finley was mine, he thought with a thread of possessiveness.

His best friend.

His companion.

No one else's.

A/N: so how was it? good? i hope so. please tell me if i need to, like, burn this chapter (metaphorically of course, this is digital after all) or if it actually flows with the story. also, should i POV jump or just stay in Ambrose's POV with maybe the occasional POV jump? or no POV jump? please tell me what you think.