Lev leaned his arms on the windowsill and spaced out. Maybe because he’d been wandering the maze, his body felt limp and heavy.
‘If I could just grab a quick nap like this.’
But his head was a mess. He doubted he could sleep if he lay down. The memory of those contemptuous eyes kept flashing up.
‘Either be kind or don’t.’
Don’t swing back and forth and confuse people. If he hadn’t, Lev wouldn’t have felt like he did a moment ago, that his brief gladness had been shoved into the mud. He was sighing inwardly when—
“Sir Lev.”
Marco, who’d been watching him anxiously since they entered the room, addressed him carefully.
“Yeah?”
“What on earth happened?”
“Ah, well…”
Lev trailed off and glanced at Marco from the corner of his eye. Marco’s expression soured, as if he’d already guessed what might be coming. If Lev told the truth, Marco looked ready to run out and confront the attendant who had abandoned him in the maze.
‘But that wouldn’t do Marco much good either.’
It had been the senior attendant, hadn’t it? When Lev was about to go for a walk, that person had deliberately summoned Marco away. Which meant it was planned. It was an order from above. If Marco got involved, he’d likely be the one to suffer for it.
“Nothing much. Before you came, I thought I’d stroll around a bit, wandered in by chance, and it turned out to be laid out like a maze.”
He left it at that, as if he’d simply taken a wrong turn. Since he couldn’t tell the truth anyway, there was no need to mention that an attendant had “guided” him.
“Do you know how complicated the Star Garden is? You went in there alone?”
“Uh—huh?”
“If you take a wrong turn, you can be stuck till morning! How could you go into a place like that without a guide!”
“Right… sorry.”
At least the excuse landed. Cowed by Marco’s force, he sounded like a kid scolding an older brother who’d messed up. Lev apologized meekly.
“Sir Lev, that could have been really serious!”
Marco’s eyes even began to water. Flustered, Lev stood at once and patted his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I just went because there was a path… I’m really sorry I made you worry.”
Tap, tap. Perhaps the patting loosened the dam, Marco kept crying for quite a while. Then he went further and let out the hurt he’d been bottling up.
“His Majesty is too much! With everyone watching… There was no need to treat you like that!”
“Well, that’s…”
“He’s been good to you till now. Why was he like that there!”
‘No, listen. That’s not what you think.’
Lev couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, so again he only patted Marco’s shoulder.
The memory of that contemptuous look and the way he’d been told to get lost rose again, and Lev gave a bitter smile.
“Imagine how anxious and upset you must’ve been. He could’ve offered a little comfort!”
“Comfort, huh.”
Lev hadn’t been asking for that. He only felt silly for being glad to see the Emperor the moment he got out of the maze.
He was biting down on a wry smile when he turned his head and the Emperor was planted in the doorway.
“I—I greet Your Majesty.”
Realizing too late that the Emperor was there, Marco went pale and bowed in a rush.
Lev, too, wore an uneasy look. Had he heard what Marco said? Guien, however, merely glanced at the bowing attendant and stepped inside.
Seeing Lev’s hand resting gently on Marco’s shoulder, patting him, Guien raised a brow and bit out, sharp:
“How bold of you… to try and run.”
The air in the room froze over.
“What do you mean? I never thought of that!”
Coming to himself, Lev shook his head hard. Guien’s eyes did not soften.
“You tried to run, lost your way, and wandered.”
“I did not!”
He denied the sneer sharply, but those cold eyes stayed full of doubt.
“If not, why did you send your attendant away?”
“Something came up for a moment, that’s all.”
Lev answered crisply.
“Something?”
Guien looked to Marco, as if to ask if that was true. Stiff with tension, Marco shivered under the Emperor’s keen gaze and answered,
“Y-yes, the senior attendant called for me, so I stepped away briefly!”
“While I waited I took a walk nearby and stumbled into some complicated garden, so I got lost. I wasn’t trying to run.”
Lev added with a sigh. Coming back exhausted only to face this suspicion doubled his fatigue.
“Then you should have stayed put.”
The icy air thinned, replaced by an irritated stare pinned on Lev. He let out an awkward little chuckle.
“Anyway, Your Majesty, let that anger go and head back, would you? I’d like to rest.”
Guien gazed down at the brown crown of Lev’s bowed head, refusing to meet his eyes. The unpleasant feeling wouldn’t fade.
Whether it was because he’d vanished without a word and then reappeared, or because he was averting his eyes now, Guien couldn’t say. He only knew it grated. He didn’t leave that feeling alone.
“Ah!”
His jaw was suddenly caught and tipped up; Lev let out a short gasp. He found himself face-to-face with the Emperor’s hard eyes.
“Be smart, Lev Schilly.”
“What…”
“Do you know whom I was meeting just now?”
Lev thought of Marquis d’Albret and the youth beside him, whom he’d seen right after leaving the maze. He hadn’t looked closely enough to recall details—only bright blond hair and a delicate face.
“The marquis’s second son.”
‘And?’
“I told him to attend the autumn banquet.”
Even after the follow-up, Lev still looked dazed, unable to see where this was going.
“What do you think?”
“Sorry? Think… about what?”
Meeting the marquis’s son and a banquet in autumn, what did his opinion have to do with that?
“What do you suppose you should do?”
Lev mulled over the Emperor’s words. Suddenly the original story flashed through his mind.
The son beside Marquis d’Albret —Michel d’Albret, the webtoon’s protagonist.
“Ah…”
He’d expected him to show up sometime, but not so abruptly.
And the Emperor had directly invited him to the autumn banquet… Wasn’t that the fated place where the two first met?
Twisted as things had become, it seemed the plot would still follow the original. A shiver ran through Lev.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. Do you… expect something of me?”
“You should be faithful to your role.”
Be faithful to your role. Meaning he was to deal with the protagonist as the Emperor’s consort.
‘So, what… put on a display at the banquet, harass him, act jealous?’
Scenes of the villainous consort raging flashed through his mind. The ending, of course, with that villain dying after every vile deed.
Absolutely not. Never. He declined.
Lev, who wanted to keep his life and part ways safely, racked his brain for how to link the two naturally.
“Why aren’t you answering?”
Did they really have to do this today? Granted, from the Emperor’s point of view, this was when he’d met the lead.
Lev only felt even more tired.
“Yes, well, if that’s what Your Majesty wants.”
He answered quietly, lowering his eyes; his chin was still in Guien’s grip, so he couldn’t bow his head.
Guien looked displeased at those oddly downcast brown eyes and spoke coolly.
“Not because I want it. Because it’s your job. It’s why I took you as my consort.”
“Ha… well… point taken.”
Lev’s mouth twitched up, then fell. Why had the Emperor chosen him as a consort? He didn’t know but this much was clear:
To use him as an excellent chess piece.
‘And if the master wants it, the piece obeys without complaint.’
That twinge near his heart returned. Lev bit the inside of his lip and let it go.
“Why are you making that face?”
Guien asked in his offhand drawl, eyeing the consort who kept displeasing him.
Sometimes he really didn’t sound like an emperor. Whether it’s from long years on the battlefield or just his nature.
“I’m wondering how best to fulfill my duties as your consort.”
Lev shot back just as curtly. Guien gave him a look: what a ridiculous creature.
He never ceded a word. It should have been irksome. Oddly, it wasn’t.
“And?”
“I haven’t thought of a good angle yet, so…”
Lev was about to say he’d think on it for a day, when the Emperor cut him off.
“We’ll summon a tailor and a jeweler.”
“What?”
Why that, out of nowhere? Lev blinked in confusion.
By contrast, Marco, who’d been watching the precarious mood, brightened at once.
“First, we’ll overhaul you from head to toe to be fit for the Emperor’s consort.”
Guien’s eyes swept Lev from head to foot.
“What’s wrong with how I look?”
It was the same line he’d heard right out of the maze. Lev protested at the belittling look. Sure, he’d looked a mess then; but now he’d changed and combed his hair.
“Must I spell it out? You’re provincial and slovenly. Who’d take you for the Emperor’s consort? Has your attendant been neglecting his duties? After I spared his life, no less.”
He tore down not only Lev but his attendant as well, even dragging up the past.
“Fine. What do you want done?”
He could take it, but why bring Marco into it? Bristling, Lev snapped and the Emperor, as if waiting, gave a lofty order:
“Fetch the tailor.”
Marco dashed off at the command and soon returned with a small throng streaming in behind him. Lev stared, dismayed.
At their head were a middle-aged man and woman—the man with a tape measure around his neck, the woman bearing an ornate jewel case. Tailor and jeweler, it seemed.
They approached the Emperor and offered elegant bows.
“We greet the shining sun of Antoine.”
“It’s been a while, Viscount Bellevue. Today, I’d like your best for my consort.”
“An honor, Your Majesty! I’ll devote my whole heart.”
The tailor, Viscount Bellevue, bowed, eyes shining. The door opened again; three attendants entered. Two carried armfuls of fabrics of every kind, and one bore several books with care.
“W-what is all this?”
As the group advanced on him, Lev stammered. Marco, by contrast, was beaming.
“Sir Lev, please stand.”
Lev looked across at the Emperor without thinking. Guien was smiling, amused. Whether Lev looked desperate or not, Marco told the tailor to take his measurements at once.
Why was the Emperor even part of this parade? In fact, Guien involved himself even more actively.
“No, not that. Use that one.”
He pointed to a scarlet among the fabrics the tailor had fanned out. Not just red but bright red. It hardly seemed like it would suit him.
“As expected, Your Majesty’s eye is unmatched. Indeed, this palette will suit Sir Lev very well.”
The tailor bowed gratefully. Lev, on the other hand, scrunched up his face.
‘What am I, a child in party clothes? That color—really!’
“I don’t really…”
“Sir Lev, over here!”
Before he could protest, Marco hooked his arm and dragged him over. The tailor swiftly draped the fabric around him.
“Wow… Sir Lev, you look beautiful. If we make it in this, it will suit you so well.”
Marco’s eyes sparkled. Led by his words, Lev looked down at the fabric on him.
At a glance the design seemed simple, but silver embroidery ran subtly through it, lending an elegant air.
…And it really did look like something to wear while singing on a nightclub stage.
“Not bad.”
The Emperor, too, looked him over and spoke. With that teasing expression, it hardly sounded sincere.
Yet the needless comment still tickled him. Lev absently scratched at his chest.
“Sir Lev! You’ll damage the fabric!”
“Oh—right.”
At Marco’s squawk, he hastily took his hand away.
“Ha-ha… it’s all right. No serious mark.”
The tailor looked stricken but forced a smile.
“How many sets?”
Asked by Guien, the tailor bowed and said he planned to make three or four.
“Not enough. He’ll need hunting attire for the autumn banquet and the harvest festival. And more for everyday wear.”
Marco and the tailor’s eyes lit up; Lev, by contrast, wore a blank, baffled look.
“There’s no need to make that many.”
“It’s preparation to be faithful to your station; cooperate.”
Lev took a deep breath to hide how irritated he was and tried again.
“Where would we even store them? What’s the point of churning out a pile like that?”
Guien gave him a look then turned to the chief attendant.
“Sir Lev does not currently have a dedicated dressing room. There’s an unused salon beside the bath; we could convert it for him.”
“Satisfied?”
Guien lifted his chin at the solution. At his swaggering air, Lev let out a breathless laugh and shook his head.
“We’ll do our very best!”
The tailor, watching the exchange, bowed deeply and answered in a ringing voice.
And so, until the sun went down, Lev was worn out trying fabrics, slipping on matching shoes and accessories, donning and pinning and draping.
The Emperor, apparently free of pressing business, watched from the side and even offered pointers. Lev wondered if this was some new form of torment.
After finishing the fabric selections and choosing jewels to match, the sky had already turned violet.
Naturally they ended up dining together. Every time Lev let pasta slip from his fork, the Emperor scolded him for being slovenly.
Lev couldn’t very well say it was because of the bandaged finger; he only bit his lips. Guien flicked him the folded napkin from beside his own plate.
Of course Lev grumbled inwardly—he could’ve just ignored it; why be so prickly about everything?
For whatever reason, after the meal the Emperor again came into Lev’s rooms.
“Why are you standing like that?”
Guien arched a brow at Lev, who stood there looking like he had a lot to say.
“Just tired.”
Instead of saying, Could you go now? I’d like to rest alone, Lev offered the safer excuse.
It wasn’t even untrue; his body felt heavy enough to dive straight into bed.
After wandering the maze garden all afternoon, being buried in piles of clothes till evening, and dining with someone who kept meddling and sniping… It had been a long, weary day.
“Fair enough.”
The Emperor nodded as if he understood. Music to Lev’s ears—now he’d say he was leaving!
“Shall we turn in, then?”
But at the next words, Lev’s head snapped around hard enough to crack.
“I’m sorry, what?”
He must have misheard, surely. But the Emperor was already walking to the bed.
‘Why are you heading there like it’s the most natural thing in the world!’
Lev gaped at the long back. Feeling his gaze, the Emperor looked back as if beckoning him over.
Lev dropped his eyes and walked over, stiff. Quick on the uptake, Marco dimmed the lights, and the room fell into darkness.
Lev blinked up at the dark ceiling. Beside him, the Emperor slept soundly.
Someone had driven him to turmoil and then slept easy. Lev felt a twinge of betrayal, but what could he do?
Forcing his eyes shut did the trick; when he came to, dawn light was greening the world.
He checked the space beside him. The Emperor was still breathing evenly, asleep. It was a strange sight.
Who would have dreamed of falling asleep next to a man this outrageously handsome?
Lev quietly studied the flawless face. Then he noticed a faint line between the brows. He couldn’t drop that temperament even asleep, it seemed.
Even as he cursed him in his head, Lev’s fingers twitched. He could just ignore it, leave it be—
And yet he reached out and gently rubbed the wrinkled brow. The Emperor’s smooth forehead creased.
‘Eek!’
Lev whipped his hand back and held his breath, watching. Had he woken him? He hadn’t.
“Phew…”
Frozen in place, unable to withdraw, he finally sighed inwardly in relief and lay straight.
He looked at the left hand that had rubbed the Emperor’s brow; then he raised his right as well, wiggling the thumb wrapped in white bandage. It didn’t hurt, but it was a bit awkward.
‘I really can’t figure him out.’
He was always this way and that. He was impossible to read. If only he could ask honestly.
But even if he did, there was no chance of a straight answer.
‘Forget it. What good would it do to know?’
He decided to stop thinking and closed his eyes. Perhaps because of the day’s ordeal, sleep soon pressed in.
Not long after, Guien’s eyelids lifted. He lay still for a while, then slowly sat up.
He gazed down at his consort, now fast asleep… or more precisely, at the fingers that had rubbed his brow.
“Impertinent, as ever.”
He said it, yet there was a hint of laughter in his tone.
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