What is a villain?
It was an incredibly profound, difficult question.
In the past, he’d had a set goal and things he had to do, so all he needed was to act in ways that fit whatever situation was flowing toward him.
Now it was different.
For one thing, Sasha had no idea how things would develop going forward, and because of that, he also couldn’t know what kind of future his actions would lead to.
So shouldn’t he just keep acting the way he always had?
It wasn’t like he’d been acting nice even now. But when he recalled Rio Grenville’s reddened ears, he became certain this wasn’t enough.
‘This won’t let me stay a villain.’
He had to move more proactively.
First, with the mindset of taking just one step beyond the everyday, he caused an uproar from the morning on.
“You brought this for me to wear?”
He even picked at the clothes—identical except for tiny details—the whole way since arriving at the Imperial Palace,
“Too sweet. Bring a new one.”
and he sent back the macarons served as dessert, swallowing down tears as he did.
“Do you not clean?”
He even pettily pointed out the dust on the window frame, and still he couldn’t shake the feeling it wasn’t enough. Right now, didn’t he look less like a main villain and more like some bad-tempered extra?
It felt like he needed to do something more seriously evil.
Something villain-like he could do right now…
Sasha looked back and forth between the documents he was handling and Edward’s study.
Stealing documents from the emperor’s study and handing them to the enemy.
It was villainy 101, no matter how you looked at it.
Passing Edward’s information to the Grand Duke’s people and the deposed former Emperor’s people—those who’d already once gone wild without knowing their place?
That would make him a splendid villain, too.
Edward had entrusted Sasha with work, and Sasha would betray him.
It was too perfect.
The problem was that Sasha had no confidence he could handle the aftermath of doing something like that.
‘That’s too far in the other direction.’
If he got caught, he’d just die, wouldn’t he?
It was so perfect that Rio Grenville would definitely draw his sword again.
That wasn’t a guess. It was a conclusion based on facts.
After yesterday’s confession—You’re not as bad a guy as I thought, heh—Rio, apparently feeling comfortable with Sasha, answered Sasha’s questions with unsettling ease.
“Oh, that baron? Dead. Why? He passed His Majesty’s information to the Grand Duke.”
He’d been slashing around with his red pen like yesterday when he remembered someone who, even so, had actually been pretty competent at their work and asked where they’d gone. That was the answer he got back.
And that wasn’t all. Every time he asked anything, some horrific answer came back.
“That count’s dead too. That young noble too. Huh? Why are you like that every time you ask? That guy obviously got his head cut off too.”
Then talk about someone who didn’t die!
Everyone he knew had been alive right up until he left the capital was dead now. And the reason was that they’d betrayed Edward again.
‘It means if I slip even a little, I just die.’
He’d vowed to become a villain, but he hadn’t realized it would be this treacherous.
He’d thought Edward—the protagonist—was the embodiment of forgiveness and understanding.
In the original, Edward had saved countless people. It was easier to count the people he killed than the people he spared.
But after the original ended, Edward had become almost a butcher.
The people who died were definitely in the wrong, but before, he’d spared people who’d done worse. How can someone change like that? Why did he change the moment I decided to do something bad?
‘Is this what they mean when they say the seat makes the person?’
From what Edward had done for Sasha, there was no way Edward’s maddeningly kind nature had changed. So there was only one reason Edward acted like this.
Emperor.
A being with absolute power, and yet, paradoxically, an emperor couldn’t decide things however he pleased.
Because every single action he took would be interpreted by the nobles, by the people, as having meaning.
Once Edward became emperor, he had no choice but to move politically.
“Who else died again? There are so many I can’t remember… Do you want me to keep going?”
He had not a shred of tact. Sasha was about to sink into despair and gloom, and Rio was practically buzzing with excitement all by himself.
‘Are you happy people died?’
Is something wrong with your head?
Sasha looked coldly at Rio, who was bowing all the way down as he asked.
“Work.”
Maybe Rio could stand there doing nothing, but Sasha still had to keep moving his hand while imagining a pitch-black future. Yet Rio, unlike Sasha who was working, didn’t seem sorry at all—he grabbed at Sasha’s words.
“You asked first.”
You? Didn’t you say we weren’t friends? Why are your words getting shorter and shorter?
Sasha was flabbergasted, but he worried that if he kept talking, he’d end up being misunderstood again as ‘you’re still a nice guy.’ So Sasha decided not to talk at all.
“Don’t talk to me.”
He waved his hand at the hulking body lingering behind him, telling him to get lost—but Rio went one step further.
“Because His Majesty warned you? It’s fine. He stepped out, didn’t he?”
Ha. It was so absurd something childish slipped out.
“Don’t act like we’re close.”
But Rio Grenville was strong.
“I said you don’t have to worry. His Majesty won’t be back until after noon.”
Why aren’t you denying the part about acting close? And what, exactly, am I not supposed to worry about? If I’d known your attitude would flip this fast, I never would’ve asked. I should’ve just kept denying it! I should’ve left it alone!
Sasha had carved Edward’s warning into his head. But up until this moment, he hadn’t wanted to follow it. Like Rio said, Edward wasn’t here right now.
“That’s why I’m saying it. Shut your mouth.”
It wasn’t acting—he put a full hundred percent sincerity into it—and Rio burst into laughter.
“Wow. Isn’t that a little too harsh?”
“…….”
You’re the harsh one.
He had nothing to say. Why was he laughing? Like he’d done up until just a few months ago, shouldn’t he be throwing a glove in my face? Shouldn’t he be threatening me with that murderous look?
“I didn’t know, but you’re fun?”
In what way.
The corners of Rio’s mouth curved up, and there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm or mockery in it.
Now Sasha didn’t even want to respond.
He just shut his mouth. If he didn’t react at all, the other guy would get tired and quit, right?
“By the way, your handwriting’s kind of similar to His Majesty’s.”
Sasha let Rio’s words wash past him as he worked his brain.
For now, it was hard to do something villain-like right away.
The only bad things Sasha could do were tormenting servants or provoking Rio—yet the former made him look less like a villain and more like a person with a rotten character, and the latter felt like the more he poked, the stranger Rio’s reactions would get.
“Especially the way you finish your strokes here is similar.”
And stealing Edward’s information, or stealing the reports on his desk right now, was also impossible.
That was an express train to the underworld.
‘It’d be nice if some incident would just happen.’
Then Sasha could do more varied, nasty things while being less at risk. But incidents didn’t just pop off because you wanted them to.
‘And it’s not like I have the power to influence an incident, anyway.’
Once he’d lost his strength and authority, the range of things he could do shrank drastically too.
Sasha was realizing, all over again, that becoming an excellent villain required a lot of conditions. The Marquess of Ambrose had really had things going for him.
“Even you think His Majesty’s handwriting is cool, right? I tried to copy it too, but it doesn’t really work for me….”
Sasha was desperate because no matter how he thought, there was no breakthrough—yet Rio kept babbling without end. Sasha forced down the urge to snap back and put strength into the hand holding the pen, and then he heard something even more unbelievable.
“I can’t exactly ask His Majesty to teach me. Will you teach me?”
Are you kidding?
“Young Duke, do you not see that I’m work—”
BANG!
Before Sasha could finish, the study door flew open with a violent crash, and Edward—who hadn’t shown his face once since yesterday afternoon—appeared.
“Sasha Ambrose.”
A cold voice, a face set hard.
And eyes like a beast, staring straight at Sasha.
Sasha slowly exhaled the breath that had been trying to burst out in uneven gasps, and steadied his breathing. It felt like all the air around them was being sucked into Edward.
Was this what it felt like to face a lion in the grasslands or the jungle with no weapon at all?
The fine hairs on his skin stood on end, and cold sweat slid down his back.
But Sasha masked himself with an indifferent face and rose from his seat.
Then he met those impossibly deep golden eyes, tracking his every movement without missing a thing.
“His Majesty, you’ve returned?”
As if he hadn’t noticed Edward’s oppressive presence at all, Sasha greeted him brightly, stretching his smile long.
“I’d like to ask if you’ve been well, but it doesn’t seem so.”
At a glance, it sounded like a light, soft voice—almost like he was teasing.
Oh dear. When Sasha gave a small shake of his head and clicked his tongue like he felt sorry, it looked like perfect mockery.
Somewhere outside, the sound of someone dropping a pen rang loudly through the still space.
But no one inside the study reacted.
Chill golden eyes and cold blue eyes, mixed with a trace of laughter, collided.
How long had they been locked in that silent stare-down?
Edward turned away sharply and commanded,
“Follow me.”
This wasn’t the time to pretend he didn’t know who that was addressed to.
Sasha ignored Rio, who was cursing Edward with his eyes, and left the study.
A tidal wave was rising inside Sasha’s chest from that brief exchange with Edward, but at least on the outside, he would look cool and haughty.
Wiping his sweat-sticky palm lightly against his trousers, Sasha followed after Edward with light, measured steps.