Reverse Harem

I was the heroine of an erotic novel, until the system dumped me into a chaste romance to reform me.

Please.

I went straight up to the male lead and said, “Hey.

Want to kiss?”

He had me thrown in jail for molesting him.

Later, he turned out to be even more outrageous than the men in erotic fiction.

I was born fickle and faithless.

Every man I met was my next great love.

Whenever I tired of one, I gave him a potion that erased his memories of loving me.

Until one day.

They all remembered.

The real princess consort was back.

It was time for me, the impostor, to go home and farm.

Before leaving, I gave everyone careful instructions.

When the vegetables in the back garden sprouted, they were to whittle stakes and put up supports for the vines.

When the fruit in the grove ripened, they mustn’t pick it all.

Leave some on the branches for the birds to get through winter.

Leave the swallows’ nest over the residence gates alone, too.

They would be back next year.

I said a great deal.

Everyone stood with their heads bowed, and no one answered.

Then I understood.

Ah.

Of course.

The princess consort came from a rich family.

Surely the money she had brought back would feed the entire household.

I no longer had to worry about keeping a dozen-odd people alive.

The steward asked, his voice thick, “Won’t you leave a word for His Highness?”

I thought about it.

“Well… tell him I hope he eats a couple more bowls of rice.”