Pen and Paper Translations

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Lev looked at his thumb, finally freed from the stifling bandage. The nail bed was still darkly discolored.

He pressed it lightly with his other hand. There was a bit of pain, but nothing especially sharp or bothersome.

“I should be fine now, right?”

He spread his hand wide to show Marco as he spoke. But Marco only wore a hesitant expression and didn’t answer.

“Why?”

“Um… please ask His Majesty!”

“Ah…”

Lev let out a long sigh as the biggest obstacle came to mind. His gaze naturally drifted to the door that connected to the imperial study.

For the past week, Lev hadn’t been allowed to go to work. The Emperor had forbidden it, using the injured thumb as a pretext.

Like a convict, he had to report every time he left his room, and he had to be back within a set time.

Marco was even summoned to the chief attendant again and again, and asked petty questions like what Lev was doing, what he’d eaten, how his health seemed, and so on—so much so that Marco became utterly convinced the Emperor had an enormous interest in Lev.

Lev, on the other hand, had seemed somewhat listless lately, lost in thought.

‘Maybe because I’ve been away so much lately.’

Unlike Lev, who stayed in his room and barely moved around, Marco had only gotten busier.

Besides reporting to the chief attendant, the senior attendant kept calling him away to assign tasks.

Such a twisted personality… It seemed he just couldn’t stand to see anyone take it easy for even a moment. As a result, Marco was spending less time with Lev, which Lev already felt bad about.

“His Majesty should be in the study now. Should I go ahead and check the situation?”

Marco glanced at the door to the study, hesitated a little, and spoke.

“Oh, should you?”

“Yes! Please wait just a moment!”

Marco hurried out of the room. When the Emperor was in the study, the corridor usually held various attendants and knights waiting, aside from the chief attendant who always stayed near the sovereign.

But now the corridor was empty. Or rather, the one person Marco least wanted to meet spotted him and his eyes gleamed.

“Marco, perfect timing! Come here!”

Marco saw the senior attendant, Ivan, crooking a finger, and let out a deep sigh inside. What bothersome errand would he be forced into this time? But with their eyes meeting, he couldn’t ignore him and keep walking.

“What is it?”

When Marco reluctantly approached, Ivan lifted his chin and said,

“There’s a message that Master Michel is coming to the palace. So go clean the first-floor parlor at once!”

“That’s not my—”

Marco started to say that wasn’t his job. But Ivan jabbed him in the forehead first.

“Ow!”

“No backtalk. Go now!”

While Marco grimaced from the sudden sting, Ivan spoke in a high-handed tone.

“I can’t! I have to deliver Sir Lev’s message to His Majesty!”

But Marco couldn’t back down this time. The task Sir Lev had asked of him came before any order from the senior attendant!

Ivan only twisted his lips in a sneer.

“His Majesty is meeting foreign envoys with the foreign minister in the audience chamber right now. So quit yapping and do as I say.”

Of all times to be receiving envoys, it had to be now!

Knowing there was no way around it, Marco said to wait a moment with a glum face and went back into the room.

“Sir Lev.”

As Lev had been waiting, idly inspecting his hand, he tilted his head at Marco’s face, which had noticeably darkened in just a moment.

“Marco? What’s wrong?”

“Sir Lev…”

Called by Lev, Marco’s face crumpled into a near-cry as he mumbled that the Emperor was in the audience chamber meeting guests, and that the senior attendant had given him work so he had to go.

It sounded almost like a whine, and a smile touched Lev’s lips.

“Then you’d better go. Go on.”

“Yes. I’ll tidy up quickly and be right back. Sir Lev, I’ll tell His Majesty as well. Please wait just a little!”

“All right.”

With a determined face, Marco left the room. Left alone, Lev wondered what to do for a bit, then remembered the hnefatafl set he’d left on the floor by the bed and brought it over.

Playing alone was a little dull, but there was nothing better for passing the time.

He had just finished setting the pieces and laid his hand on a black piece when the door flew open without a knock and Ivan and another attendant barged in.

“What is it?”

Lev asked, and Ivan answered with a mocking curl of his lip.

“We’re cleaning. Step out.”

For something said to the Emperor’s consort, the tone was grossly rude. Lev narrowed the space between his brows, and then smoothed it.

‘Here we go again.’

Whenever Marco was away this past week, the harassment began right on cue: bringing tea loaded with salt and pushing him to drink it, making him eat burned cookies, or “pouring” tea only to spill it on his trousers. These were childish little skirmishes you’d expect from kids.

‘What am I supposed to do about this…’

He couldn’t very well tell the Emperor, and he didn’t want to burden Marco with it either.

“It’s fine. Marco takes care of that every morning.”

He started by refusing. He certainly didn’t expect them to back off politely.

“Oh really? You must be so easygoing that this is nothing to you.”

He didn’t even try to hide the sneer. Ivan flicked his eyes at the attendant beside him. The attendant’s eyes gleamed with malice as he pulled something from his breast and tossed it all over the floor.

“What the—ugh!”

An acrid stench rose, and Lev clapped a hand over his nose. The floor and the toes of his shoes were smeared with a viscous liquid. It was food waste, a mess of odds and ends.

“What do you think you’re doing!?”

Lev glared at Ivan with sharpened eyes. Ivan, acting innocent as if he hadn’t done anything, said blandly,

“Well now, the floor’s dirty… and the smell is terrible. We’ll have to clean it right away. Out, please.”

Lev let out a deep sigh and stepped around the garbage to walk up to Ivan.

When the taller man approached, Ivan theatrically tipped up his chin. The attitude said, The Emperor doesn’t even favor you—what do you think you can do?

“Cut it out. Yeah?”

Lev tapped Ivan’s shoulder, right at the height of his own nose, twice. For now, he could let it slide. But his patience was wearing thin. The tap was a warning: push me further and I don’t know what I’ll do.

He could feel Ivan glaring daggers into his back, but he didn’t bother to look.

Driven out, Lev stepped into the corridor with a baffled expression. Where was he supposed to go?

If he wandered the palace and happened to meet the Emperor, it might invite pointless suspicion; if he went somewhere else, he didn’t know any other places.

‘Let’s go to the Water-Lily Garden.’

At least people were scarce there. He probably wouldn’t run into anyone.

Having decided, Lev left the palace. It was still morning, but the sun was already hot; by midday it’d be sweltering.

Following the shade cast by the avenue trees, a cluster of flowers with an exotic look caught his eye.

‘What’s this? I’ve never seen it before.’

Lev had always been interested in plants. Back when he worked part-time at the café, he’d filled the place with pots even though it wasn’t his café. He loved how they shone on the sunny windowsill. Wiping dust, fussing over them so they wouldn’t die… Sure, it was his job, but none of it felt like a hassle.

The sad part was that in his semi-basement studio he couldn’t see this kind of lushly blooming flower.

‘They haven’t all died, have they?’

The thought popped up, and Lev tried to count how many days he’d been here but soon gave up. Who knew if time even flowed the same? What was the point of fretting.

“It looks like a rose… or a freesia?”

But the blossoms were smaller and the stalks shorter. Before he got stuck in this world, he could have just searched the internet. A shame.

“That’s Kalanchoe blossfeldiana.”

At the sudden unfamiliar voice, Lev’s head whipped up.

A young man who looked to be in his early twenties stood in the blazing sunlight. Gold hair bright enough to melt, clear and spotless green eyes and a delicate, lovely face to match.

Lev recognized him at once. Michel d’Albret.

“Uh…”

“It originally grows only in far-off tropical regions, but as you can see, the flowers are beautiful, so a horticultural cultivar was brought into the Empire a few years ago.”

Michel’s eyes curved as he went on, and the world seemed to brighten around him. Lev stared blankly, and then suddenly remembered where he’d heard the name.

He’d seen it when he went to a plant nursery with a girl friend, not a girlfriend. He’d been told it was native to some African island and had been improved and imported.

‘Huh. Putting that trivia to good use.’

He found himself impressed at something so random.

More to the point… Michel d’Albret? What was he doing here? Lev hid his discomfort and spoke.

“You must be very interested in flowers.”

“Yes. Tending gardens is my hobby.”

Silly as it might sound, it fit him perfectly.

In the original story, too, the protagonist’s hobby was gardening. Every time he came to the palace, he’d bring a bouquet or a potted plant as a gift for the Emperor.

And those would be displayed on the Emperor’s desk, stirring the villain consort’s jealousy. Naturally, the villain consort couldn’t leave them alone and “accidentally” broke them every time.

‘So childish. Why even touch them?’

As if that would make the Emperor’s heart change. It only shredded his own reputation.

“I see…”

And how was he supposed to handle this awkward situation? Contact with the protagonist, of all people. Lev was not thrilled.

This was the person most closely tied to his death. It would be best not to cross paths at all and now here they were, getting acquainted.

“Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Michel D’Albret.”

Unlike Lev, who wanted to make a quick escape, Michel cheerfully gave his name. Lev swallowed a sigh.

“…I’m Lev.”

Since the other had introduced himself, Lev couldn’t just say nothing. But he couldn’t give his family name, so he offered only his given name.

“Sir Lev!”

Michel clapped with a radiant smile. His reactions were like an overenthusiastic audience member.

“Thanks for the flower name. I’ll be going now.”

Unmoved by such ardor toward someone he didn’t especially want to grow close to, Lev gave an awkward smile and took his leave.

“If you’re walking, would you mind if I joined you?”

Michel was persistent.

‘Aren’t you here to see the Emperor? Why follow me?’

Lev stifled the urge to scream and sighed inwardly. Michel’s eyes drooped, as if he’d taken it as a refusal.

“Is it inconvenient?”

When a beautiful person asked in a crestfallen voice, Lev’s heart wavered again.

“No, not… exactly…”

This was why being a sucker for looks was dangerous. The words slipped out on their own.

“You’re all right? I’m glad.”

Michel’s face brightened in relief. Lev snapped back to himself.

“Master Michel, weren’t you here for other business?”

Lev prodded, gently hinting: aren’t you busy?

For example, meeting the Emperor. Or lunch with the Emperor. Or tea with the Emperor. Or a walk with the Emperor.

“Yes. I came to see His Majesty, but he was engaged in other matters, so I’m looking around the gardens while I wait.”

“Ah…”

Lev remembered Marco saying the Emperor was meeting envoys from abroad. Michel must have come out to stroll for the same reason. They were in similar straits. Not that he could say that out loud.

“I was just thinking it’s dull to walk alone. Let’s go together.”

Michel smiled fresh and bright, and invited him again. Lev hesitated but then nodded. Maybe this was an unexpected opportunity to build a natural rapport with the protagonist and look for a good way forward.

Things rarely went as planned, but since the other side was showing interest, there was no need to erect a wall.

“Sir Lev?”

As they walked quietly, Michel called to him in a tentative voice.

“Yes?”

“Are you going farther? Um… this looks like a dead end.”

He pointed ahead. Lev didn’t need to look; he knew what Michel meant.

It was dense undergrowth. At a glance it looked like the path ended.

“Beyond that.”

“Pardon?”

Without further explanation, Lev flashed a grin and moved ahead. Michel blinked rapidly. That smile, curling his cool eyes with a playful glint, clung to Michel’s eyelids and wouldn’t fade.

While Michel stood dazed, reminiscing, Lev disappeared into the greenery. Left alone, Michel started and hurried after him.

“Sir Lev!”

With leaves stuck all over his hair and clothes, Michel called out—and then fell silent. Beyond the seemingly unkempt trees lay a surprisingly modest and charming garden.

A small pond that mirrored the sky’s perfect blue, spread over with violet water lilies. And a picture-perfect little pavilion.

“This place…”

Lev glanced at the admiring Michel and walked up onto the footbridge. Michel looked around, eyes shining then quickly followed.

In the meantime, Lev checked the table and chairs, now dusty white after just a week, grabbed a fallen branch with leaves, and brushed them off. Even that little effort lifted the pale dust, leaving the place clean.

“Please sit.”

Lev sat and gestured to the chair opposite.

“Thank you, Sir Lev.”

Michel beamed as he took his seat. Across from him, Lev gave him another once-over.

He was certainly a protagonist-worthy beauty.

‘Right, at least that much.’

Someone with a sharp temper like Lev was suited to a bit part, a passing speck at best. Ideally, a role that could vanish without leaving a trace.

‘Since it’s come to this, I might as well find a way to keep my neck.’

There was a bit of that intention in Lev choosing to accompany Michel. Though he didn’t yet have a brilliant plan.

In any case, the conversation flowed less awkwardly than he’d feared. Since both cared about plants, their topics stayed firmly in that realm.

“The palace gardens get more impressive the more I see them. Even in the heat of summer, not a single rose seems wilted, all so fresh and you can even spot southern flowers that are fussy to keep, like kalanchoe.”

“Right.”

Lev chimed in quickly. He hadn’t seen much yet, but he could tell everything was meticulously maintained and arranged.

“From what Father said, I thought the palace was nothing but grim and frightening, but perhaps not. If summer’s this splendid, I can’t wait to see autumn.”

Did he mean the birthday celebration banquet in the fall? Lev considered asking, then steered elsewhere.

“Frightening?”

“Yes. There’s been so much happening here lately.”

Michel ended the sentence with a smile that implied—don’t you know who’s responsible? Lev took the hint.

Things had indeed been harsh since the Emperor’s accession. He’d cleared out all his rivals, even dismissing the late Empress and the Crown Princess. It was natural to find him frightening.

“But the gardens are beautiful and meeting someone as wonderful as you is nice as well.”

Michel smiled again. Lev looked at the pretty youth opposite with some surprise.

‘Great reactions, and smooth compliments too. Was he always like this?’

No. He’d thought the type was pure and delicate, the very image of a blameless lead.

‘Well, whatever. It seems I’ve made a good impression, and that’s good for me.’

Lev congratulated himself on his earlier decision. The closer he grew and the more he helped Michel near the Emperor, the better. That was the decisive reason he’d agreed to walk with him.

“Same here.”

When Lev spoke a touch more warmly than before, Michel’s face brightened further.

After talking more about the gardens, they eventually left the Water Lily Garden when Michel said he should head back. It was about time for Lev as well.

Who knew whether the room had been cleaned properly and if Marco came back to find him gone, he’d fret again.

Walking with Michel, Lev stopped at a path lined with cypress trees.

“Master Michel, take care. I had a lovely time, thanks to you.”

“Oh, Sir Lev, you’re leaving?”

“Yes. I think it’s best we part here.”

When Lev offered his farewell, Michel couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“I wish we could talk a bit more—what a pity. Let’s meet again.”

Lev only gave a troubled smile in reply. Whatever he made of it, Michel looked a little hurt, but didn’t press further and turned back.

Even after being left alone, Lev stood there for a long moment, then slowly walked back toward the palace.

That night, when the Emperor learned Lev had slipped out, Lev had to weather all kinds of scolding and barbed remarks. The door was left open as he was berated, so every attendant and knight standing in the corridor heard it all.

Unable to say it was because his attendant had driven him out, Lev simply stood and took it and the next day, rumors spread all over the palace that the Emperor had been berating his consort.

That quickly reached the d’Albret household.

“As I thought.”

It was only natural for Marquis d’Albret to smile with delight. He summoned the butler and ordered him to prepare Michel to go to the palace.

Since the Emperor seemed interested in his son, he had to send him in often.