A Flat-Chest Believer Reincarnated in a World Where Women with Small Breasts Aren't Treated as Women ~ I Ended Up with a Flat-Chested Harem. - Chapter 9

I was in the backyard of the Gustique mansion in the royal capital, making another batch of “Holy Water.” Even during my stay in the capital, this daily task remained unchanged.

Each time a barrel was filled, the transport workers loaded it onto the cart.

“That’s the last one. I’m counting on you for the delivery!” I called out.

“Understood!” replied the transporter in a loud voice as he got the cart moving.

When I make Holy Water in the capital, the quality for use within the territory declines due to the transportation time. On the other hand, for shipments outside the territory, it’s easier to distribute from the capital, and the quality remains high. This is just one of the quirks of personalized magic, and there’s little I can do about it.

“Folca!” someone called out to me just as I finished seeing off the transport team. I recognized the voice instantly.

“Hey, Brother Al! Long time no see!” I turned around and greeted the familiar voice.

It was Alvy Periste, the eldest son of the Periste marquis family, ranked fourth among the nobility. His magical affinity was ‘Fire 10,’ and he had striking red hair and a well-defined, handsome face.

I called him “Brother Al,” though we weren’t actually related. When I was four, Alvy, who was five at the time, told me, “Call me brother,” and ever since, I’ve been calling him “Brother Al.” In short, we’ve been close childhood friends.

“I heard you’re getting married to Princess Risty. Is that true?” he asked.

Yesterday, my engagement to Princess Risty was made public. On top of that, they announced the extremely rushed schedule for the wedding to take place in just one month, causing quite a stir throughout the capital.

“Yeah, it’s true,” I confirmed.

“You’re not confusing her with Princess Felicie, are you?” Alvy asked, still incredulous.

“Nope. It’s Princess Risty. You know, the Risty from our ‘Miracle Three Years,’” I replied with a grin.

The “Miracle Three Years” was a term used in the Rolique Kingdom to refer to the time when five individuals, including myself, Brother Al, Princess Risty, and the sisters Selena and Lasha from the Quitunen Count family, were all born with exceptional magical talent, one after another. By referring to her this way, I knew Alvy would get what I meant without misunderstanding.

“I see… What on earth happened? We’re close, so I’ll help however I can,” Alvy offered, genuinely concerned.

It was obvious why he was so worried—being engaged to a woman with small breasts was enough to trigger sympathy in this world. The remnants of the ancient virus plaguing this society were truly unforgivable.

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t forced into this or anything,” I reassured him.

“…If you say so,” Alvy replied, still looking unconvinced.

I leaned in closer and whispered, “I’m only telling you this because we’re friends, but… I don’t mind small chests.”

Alvy’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?! You mean you’re one of those rare, one-in-a-thousand guys?”

I nodded vigorously. In this world, while there weren’t many flat-chested women, there were even fewer men who could, well, perform with them. In large cities, there were specialized male prostitutes with that talent, so their existence was known, but they were incredibly rare.

“So… you’re really okay with it?” Alvy asked, still concerned. Just because someone could perform with a flat-chested woman didn’t mean they actually liked it. Many of those specialized male escorts were rumored to fantasize about busty women to get the job done. Alvy was worried that even if I could, I might still be doing it reluctantly.

“Yeah, I’m totally fine with it. Besides, aside from her chest, Princess Risty is perfect!” I said with a beaming smile, hoping he’d understand my feelings.

Judging from Alvy’s relieved expression, it seemed he finally got it.

“Well, you don’t look like you’re lying… I’m glad to hear that. Congratulations, then!” he said with a big smile.

“Thanks,” I replied.

“Still, you should be careful. There are people making all sorts of assumptions and feeling sorry for you. Watch your back,” Alvy said seriously. He was right—regardless of the truth, perception and reputation are crucial in aristocratic society.

“Thanks for the warning. But I’m not sure what to do about it,” I admitted.

It was a tricky situation. I needed to figure out how to make people understand that I wasn’t being forced into this, and that I genuinely liked Risty.

“Brother Al, could you let Marquis Periste know that I’m marrying because I want to?” I requested.

“Of course,” he replied.

“Thanks. That’ll help a lot,” I said gratefully.

With that, I knew the Periste family at least would be on board. As for the rest of the nobility, I’d have to come up with a plan later.

“By the way, is Lyla not here?” Alvy asked.

“She should be on her way. She’ll be here tomorrow, so come by then,” I said.

Now that the engagement was officially announced, my parents and I were staying in the capital for an extended period, so my two younger sisters were currently en route to the city. Alvy had a thing for my younger sister, Lyla, and he always seemed concerned about her. Since I trusted him personally, and he was competent and well-off, I supported the idea of them being together.

“Alright. I’ll definitely come by,” Alvy said, waving as he left.