If someone is sleeping that uncomfortably, shouldn’t they come in and wake him up?
When Sasha woke up in the morning and found himself with his legs hanging off the bed while only his ass and upper body were still draped over it, he couldn’t believe it.
If the bed hadn’t been so good, his back would have been wrecked.
And that wasn’t all. If it was already evening, shouldn’t someone have at least brought him food?
How miserable. Seriously.
So this is what it is now? He wasn’t a marquess anymore, sure—but he was still nobility. And they couldn’t even be bothered to feed him properly?
Back when he lived in the capital—especially during that last year—stress had ruined his appetite. But in the territory, he’d eaten nonstop every day without giving his stomach a moment of rest. Now, an empty belly was worse.
Even three years ago, when Sasha “hated” Edward as part of the setting, he hadn’t starved him. Yet here he was—going without dinner, and then without breakfast too—pitiful enough to make him want to laugh.
His face might look like this, but he wasn’t a fairy. He couldn’t live on morning dew.
Sasha was so hungry his stomach had gone numb, so he filled it with water.
At least give me a snack.
But the servants fussing over him—because he had to go out soon—made it hard for him to even drink water in peace.
Do they not know I haven’t eaten?
How could they not know? If they didn’t bring a meal, then I didn’t eat. Don’t tell me I’m only a “guest” in name and this is actually a prison?
He couldn’t say the possibility was zero, so he started feeling anxious for no reason.
As he wet his lips again, he spotted a servant hovering near the door—and a faint afterimage flashed through his mind.
In his half-sleep, he’d felt like someone was watching him.
“Hey.”
“Y-yes?”
The servant who had been brushing Sasha’s hair jumped and answered.
“Did a guest come last night?”
“Huh? N-no!”
This was the first time Sasha had seen a servant who couldn’t hide their emotions this badly. The problem was it was so extreme that Sasha couldn’t be sure whether that trembling was fear of him, or proof someone really had visited.
When Sasha just stared silently, the servant blurted again.
“I swear—really! No one came!”
“Yeah?”
“You were sleeping, so we didn’t want to disturb you…”
The more desperately they denied it, the more it felt like there really had been a night visitor. And Sasha caught it—the strange movement of the other servants exchanging looks with each other, just for a split second.
“So I hallucinated?”
“…I didn’t mean that.”
The servant looked like they were about to cry. Anyone watching would think Sasha was bullying them because he couldn’t control his temper.
“Am I tormenting you?”
Like this.
Sasha smiled brightly at Rio Grenville, who had just thrown the door open and walked in without permission.
“I’m the one getting my hair ripped out right now.”
The servant who had been trembling let out a small squeal and snatched their hand away. A few fine strands of hair fell from their fingers, gleaming faintly—and a heavy silence settled over the room.
“I-I’m sorry!”
Sasha’s scalp stung. If his acting had been even slightly weaker, he would’ve screamed without dignity.
Is it bleeding?
Sasha kept the smile on his lips as he looked at Rio.
“I can’t even get angry, with our Young Duke being so scary.”
If the servant had any sense, they would have stepped back or left the room at that point—but they just stood there, frozen. Thankfully, a far more experienced servant hurried over, pushed the other one aside, and offered Sasha an apology.
“We truly apologize.”
Sasha turned back to the mirror without a word, and the servant quickly smoothed his hair again.
Feeling the room’s chill like a blade, Sasha spoke to Rio.
“Not busy? You’re even escorting a viscount nobody like me.”
“…Consider it an honor.”
The moment Sasha’s attention shifted to Rio, the servants who’d been rigid as ice finally started breathing again.
You’re the ones who messed up—why are you acting like that?
Rio must have felt it too—or maybe he thought Sasha was going to take it out on them—because he stepped closer and asked the servants,
“How much longer?”
“We’re nearly finished.”
Good. After waking up, he’d been forced to sit through this for a full two hours.
Maybe they weren’t used to dressing someone. It took them twice as long as the servants who used to dress him when he was a marquess—yet the result was disappointing.
Sasha stared at his reflection with an unhappy look. They hadn’t styled his hair back; they’d just brushed it until it shone. No makeup, either.
The clothing was made from expensive material, but the design was painfully plain. And the jewelry was nothing special—one long dangling earring in a single ear, and one bracelet. That was it.
Where was the brooch? The tie pin? The cuff rings? There wasn’t a single accent piece on his outfit.
Watching his hair drift and sway naturally lowered his confidence.
From head to toe, a perfectly put-together outfit was Sasha’s armor.
When he wore the skin of “Sasha” from the original, his trembling and fear calmed down, and an unjustified confidence bloomed.
He even had the ridiculous thought that his face itself was “plausibility” and “legitimacy.”
The more important the occasion, the more Sasha polished his appearance to perfection, hiding himself behind a glamorous exterior.
But today he didn’t even have half of that.
Maybe dressing too lavishly wouldn’t look good now that he wasn’t a marquess anymore. No—on the contrary, shouldn’t he dress more carefully because he wasn’t?
He didn’t have the halo of his title anymore.
They won’t wait for me.
If it were up to him, he wanted to throw a tantrum and demand they redo everything, but he couldn’t.
The servants hadn’t explained who Sasha was meeting, but with Rio here, it was obvious.
“His Majesty makes you do all kinds of things, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t speak carelessly.”
Sasha watched Rio’s eyes sharpen and asked,
“Then you came to get me of your own free will?”
Instead of being frightened, Sasha rose with a mocking smile. Rio Grenville couldn’t answer a single word—he just strode out of the room.
Even his back made it obvious how furious he was.
“Let’s go, Viscount.”
Sasha followed him, a string of servants trailing behind.
Rio, unable to control his temper, walked far ahead—then turned back and glared at Sasha as the distance widened.
“Hurry.”
Was he telling Sasha to run with the servants?
A group sprint?
What did he think people would say if they saw his whole entourage stampeding down the halls?
Sasha didn’t answer. He walked at a pace that was neither fast nor slow, until he came up beside Rio again. He curled his lips into a rounded smile and looked up at him.
“This palace is too big. It’s exhausting. Want to carry me?”
If you’re so busy, then carry me.
As if he truly wouldn’t be embarrassed at all, Sasha waved both hands cheerfully—despite the fact that Rio would bolt the moment Sasha actually crouched down and offered his back.
Rio’s jaw bulged. His lips twisted grotesquely, and Sasha could see the swallowed curse he couldn’t quite spit out.
Why pick a fight you can’t win?
Sasha hid his triumphant glee and started walking again. Rio pressed in close and warned him in a harsh voice.
“Don’t act like that in front of His Majesty.”
Sasha didn’t bother responding to something so obvious. He just let out a faint laugh.
“And don’t even think any stupid thoughts. Why in the world does His Majesty even—”
Rio Grenville’s chattering voice continued beside him, but Sasha let it go in one ear and out the other.
How much did he change?
Edward Lacarte.
The protagonist of the novel—and now, the Emperor.
What did the protagonist look like after the story ended?
Did he still look like a protagonist?
Or did the story ending mean he’d become just an ordinary person?
Ordinary, my ass.
How does an Emperor become ordinary?
Someone who shone like that wouldn’t change in just a few months.
When Sasha first went down to the territory, he sometimes imagined Edward’s coronation—the one Sasha hadn’t been able to attend in either the original or this changed present.
The novel’s ending.
A coronation that hadn’t existed, and that still didn’t include Sasha even now.
Bright noon sunlight.
Edward, dressed more gorgeously and nobly than ever, presenting himself to the people.
He would have worn that crown that had seemed excessive and heavy on the deposed Emperor, and walked boldly before the citizens before entering the palace.
After enduring every hardship and trial, Edward standing at the highest place, looking down over everyone—he must have looked impressive.
And that was still true now.
Since arriving, Sasha hadn’t met many people yet, but the palace’s discipline was firm.
Meaning: Edward had the palace completely in hand.
…They’re not flawless, but they keep their mouths shut.
Sasha glanced back at the servants following a few steps behind. Given time, they would get more skilled too—and they wouldn’t make mistakes like today.
In fact, the very act of taking the former traitor Sasha in as a “guest” inside the palace was proof that Edward’s imperial authority was strong and stable.
I’m looking forward to it.
He already knew Edward would still be extraordinary, but Sasha was curious anyway.
Did that man—who had received every reader’s support—stay happy for a long, long time even after the novel ended?
Are you still shining?
The answer was waiting beyond the door.
“Young Duke Grenville and Viscount Ambrose enter!”
Feeling his heart tremble pleasantly, Sasha lifted his head.