* * *
The man always acted with certainty in everything he did.
Not once had he ever acted on impulse.
That was why, even when he opened his eyes that morning, he had never dreamed that he would end up doing something this pointless.
Truly.
“Good night, Henry.”
There was satisfaction in the voice of the person who firmly believed he was a servant.
He wanted to wake him up and ask what exactly he had done to feel so proud.
Hadn’t all they done the entire day been eat and talk about this and that?
And yet, when he met those round, gentle eyes, he could only smile helplessly.
It was not a forced smile.
It slipped out naturally.
“…Yes.”
Before long, even breathing could be heard.
The man opened his eyes in the darkness.
Jedrier was curled tightly into himself as if he were cold, looking both pitiful and adorable, like a baby animal abandoned by its mother.
He turned onto his side and stared quietly at Jedrier’s face.
Then he lifted a hand and brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen forward.
Even when he lightly tapped Jedrier’s cheek, there was no reaction.
The sight was absurd.
“You said you were a light sleeper.”
When he had refused, saying there was no way a servant could sleep in the same bed as his master, Jedrier had thumped his small chest proudly.
‘I’m a light sleeper, so if someone comes, I’ll wake you up right away! So you don’t need to worry about anything!’
Remembering that confident yet innocent voice made the corners of his lips itch.
A light sleeper?
Someone could carry him off and he still would not notice.
He wound Jedrier’s pink hair around his finger.
It had looked soft, and just as expected, it felt exactly as it looked.
Hmm.
What should he do about this?
He had planned to return before sunrise, but it seemed he would have to postpone that a little longer.
It had been quite… entertaining.
He was curious what kind of expression Jedrier would make if he disappeared without saying a word, but he decided to save that for another time.
“Hamin.”
“Yes.”
The man who emerged from the darkness showed no surprise at the sight of Henry buried beneath a pile of clothes.
He merely remained hidden in one corner of the darkness, keeping his breathing quiet.
“Look into it.”
There was no need to specify the target.
There was only one living creature in this room breathing away without knowing anything.
Hamin’s gaze briefly shifted toward the bed.
All he could see was a pile of clothes, but he quickly lowered his eyes again.
“Yes.”
“And find out why he’s living like this.”
“Understood.”
Jedrier Olson was quite famous within the palace.
People had placed bets on when Jedrier Olson’s head would fall.
A small minority, however, said he might survive by seducing the Emperor with that ‘extraordinary’ appearance of his.
In the imperial palace, even the sound of someone breathing eventually reached the Emperor’s ears.
So of course the details of that bet had reached him as well.
‘Hmm… Is he really that pretty? Considering that old man, I doubt it.’
Hamin knew the question did not require an answer, so he wisely kept his mouth shut.
Thinking back on it, keeping silent at that moment had probably saved his life.
After briefly becoming lost in thought, Hamin spoke.
It was not his place to decide whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.
He only had to follow orders.
“I will investigate Young Master Jedrier Olson.”
“No, no.”
“…Yes?”
The reaction was unexpected, and Hamin made a mistake he normally never would have made.
The man before him hated being questioned.
“Jedrier Olson?”
“…….”
“It should be Jedrier Jefferson.”
“…Yes.”
And he also hated people who could not read the situation.
In less than a minute, Hamin had managed to do every single thing the Emperor hated most.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
The emotion the Emperor—his liege—held toward Count Olson’s youngest son was clearly ‘interest.’
He should have realized it earlier.
From the moment the Emperor began pretending to be a servant.
Normally, he would never have touched food like that, much less eaten four bowls of it.
He would never have lain down on a filthy bed covered with old clothes.
And he certainly would not have allowed Jedrier Olson to touch him.
Everything had been obvious.
How had Hamin only realized it now?
“Leave.”
“…Yes.”
Hamin disappeared without a sound, just as silently as he had entered.
The Emperor did not even spare him a glance.
Instead, he blocked the moonlight spilling across Jedrier’s face.
He had no idea what Jedrier found so cold that he had to tremble like a squirrel.
“How is it possible…”
How could someone not recognize the Emperor’s face?
And not even know his middle name?
If he was stupid, then he was astonishingly stupid.
And if he knew everything and was merely pretending not to, then his acting skills were exceptional.
But either way, it did not matter.
If he was stupid, then he was cute in his stupidity.
And if he was acting, then that was adorable in its own way.
“…for you to be this insignificant?”
The man, Carlisle H Jefferson, let out a low laugh.
Unlike the public reputation that said he swung his sword first whenever something displeased him, Carlisle was actually a man who planned even the smallest details before putting them into action.
The rumors that he was savage, consumed by madness, and insane were things he himself had encouraged.
It gave him far fewer restrictions on how he could act.
When nobles began talking about concubines in an attempt to shove their children into the palace, he had warned them as well.
He had told them that he would accept concubines as they wished, but could not guarantee what happened afterward.
That threat, too, had been made with those rumors in mind.
What deranged noble would send their own child somewhere they were likely to die?
The people who best understood that his words were not empty threats were the ‘nobles’ themselves.
And yet they had still gone so far as to send someone in as a concubine.
An unfortunate sacrifice, or a well-trained spy.
It had to be one of the two.
“What are you?”
He was too stupid to be a spy, and too pure and untainted to look like an unfortunate sacrifice.
Perhaps he was simply impossible to read….
“You said you were a light sleeper, Jeri.”
He lightly tapped the lips of the sleeping person who knew nothing.
“Did you dare lie to me?”
Coming to meet Jedrier had been a form of amusement.
He had wondered just how beautiful the boy had to be for people to say even he might be captivated by his appearance.
And he had also wanted to see Count Olson’s offspring with his own eyes.
Would he be a monster ‘worse’ than his father?
Or a ‘lesser’ monster?
Would he really be as pretty as the rumors claimed?
Honestly, he had not expected much.
The things idle gossips said were hardly reliable.
And rumors were always exaggerated.
That was all it had started as.
‘What is this place?’
There was a palace this poorly maintained within the imperial grounds?
The exterior looked as though it would collapse into nothing if someone so much as touched it, and the inside was equally miserable.
The stairs made a chilling noise every time someone stepped on them, and cobwebs covered the place.
The thick layer of dust sitting on every windowsill looked enough to give someone an illness they did not already have.
Carlisle frowned.
No matter how much he disliked Count Olson, and no matter how displeased he had been about taking concubines….
This was too much.
How long had the kid been here again?
And they had simply left things like this?
That ‘Olson’ had?
His surprise lasted only briefly before irritation surged.
‘Without going through me….’
So there were people handling matters on their own.
Was it overstepping their authority?
Or loyalty?
Or perhaps the work of someone blinded by money?
Whatever it was, they had ruined any hope of enjoying a peaceful retirement.
If it was overstepping their authority, they naturally had to pay the price.
And if it was loyalty….
Could something equivalent to spitting in their sovereign’s face truly be called loyalty?
Carlisle’s lips twisted.
For something that had begun as nothing more than a whim to visit a concubine, he had uncovered quite a lot.
As he mentally went through the faces of the people he would need to deal with one by one, he soon noticed a small lump buried beneath a pile of clothes.
Whenever the figure shifted, pink hair gleamed between the fabric.
At that moment, acting purely on impulse, the man had taken off the clothes he arrived in, tossed them into the corner of the shabby wardrobe, and pretended to be a servant.
He still could not understand why he had done it.
But he knew that even if time were turned back, he would do exactly the same thing again.
‘Pretty.’
Now he understood why the palace servants had made such a bet.
His soft, curly pink hair looked as though spring itself had been melted into it.
His harmonious features, each placed exactly where they belonged, shared not a single resemblance with Count Olson, who argued with Carlisle over every little thing.
The boy was far more beautiful than the rumors claimed.
And he was just as lovable as he was beautiful.
“Right. There’s no way you’re a spy.”
Jedrier Olson—
No, Jedrier Jefferson—
was transparent.
It was easy to see exactly what he was thinking.
There was no way a spy could be this careless.
‘Should I give you more? More?’
And then there was the way Jedrier had thought of him despite looking half-starved himself.
Throughout Carlisle’s entire life, there had never been anyone who genuinely took care of him.
Everyone watched his mood while thinking only about how they might take advantage of him.
Carlisle chewed on the revoltingly tasteless vegetables.
Even the horses in the imperial stables probably ate better vegetables than this.
‘It tastes better than you expected, right?’
But in order to meet Jedrier’s expectations, he nodded.