Chapter 6
Clyde curved the corner of his lips into a stylish smile. The situation suddenly felt familiar.
She had seen that smile earlier—in the office.
Right before the document summary test, that exact smile had appeared.
It felt like a sign that something ominous was about to happen. Like a poisoned apple—tempting and glossy, yet giving off a wicked aura.
Sure enough, he pulled the bell cord that hung decoratively at the corner of the wall.
“My apologies for boring you. I know how hard it is to fight off drowsiness. To ease that struggle, I came personally to bring you some work.”
As if they had been waiting outside, several palace attendants immediately responded to the call and entered. They carried in heavy boxes, stacking them neatly near the desk.
She didn’t need to check to know how exhausting their contents would be.
The boxes kept coming. The attendants made several trips, piling them up until an entire wall was filled.
“Your Highness… this—”
A complaint—Isn’t this excessive?—rose to her throat.
But no sound escaped her lips. At just that moment, that familiar wicked smile flickered across his face.
If she complained, how would Clyde respond? Whatever scheme lay behind that smile would surely do nothing for Edith’s peaceful future.
Should she take the risk and ask anyway, even with such a bad feeling? Like a fish wavering before bait, she struggled between biting or not biting the wriggling worm before her, forcibly calming her wildly pounding heart.
“What exactly am I supposed to do with all these documents?”
Unable to suppress her curiosity, she finally asked.
His flawless smile deepened, the sharp, lean planes of his cheek forming a striking curve.
Damn it, he’s ridiculously handsome. What on earth is he planning?
“Well, first you’ll need to review them.”
“…All of them?”
“Is it too many?”
Was he joking? Even seeing this with his own eyes, how could he say something so absurd? No matter how much she’d dropped excessive honorifics with the crown prince, she couldn’t bring herself to say that out loud.
Instead, hoping he might go easier on her if she looked pitiful, she carefully formed watery, kitten-like eyes.
“Your Highness…”
But she seemed to have chosen the wrong opponent.
“If you work using only a side table and a hard chair, you’ll tire quickly. We should bring in a proper desk for you soon, Edith.”
As his gaze swept the room, there was no hesitation in it—no mercy at all.
“No, a desk alone won’t be enough. Work is important, but rest is just as vital, so I’ll prepare a place for you to relax as well.”
“Um… I appreciate the thought, but wouldn’t it be enough to work reasonably and then go home?”
Just how hard was he planning to work her, if he was arranging both a workspace and a resting place?
“A bed… might be excessive? Then perhaps a large couch—big enough to lie down and sleep on.”
Dropping her useless pitiful act, Edith recoiled in shock and stepped closer to the crown prince.
Standing so near, she had to tilt her head far back due to the height difference.
Her eyes widened instinctively as she stared at him.
“Why would I sleep here?”
She asked seriously, but he replied offhandedly, in a tone that made it impossible to tell whether he was joking or sincere.
“Think about it. Just a moment ago, you said you wanted to finish quickly and go home.”
“Well, that’s—”
Does that even make sense? Your joke has gone too far.
Those words swirled uselessly in her mouth.
Even opening just one of the stacked boxes to review it would take days.
Reading a novel of that volume would take years, let alone combing through dense, headache-inducing official documents. It was practically telling her to live here.
That might actually be his plan. Clyde might intend to keep her trapped in the crown prince’s palace and work her like a slave.
Naturally, the original novel never mentioned trivial things like a minor character’s commuting schedule.
How Edith had managed such a rapid promotion in just two years was left entirely to the reader’s imagination. If she’d been shut away in a side chamber like this, burying her youth under piles of paperwork, it actually made sense.
What was the point of transmigrating into another world just to drown in work?
This time, she looked up at Clyde with a genuinely pitiful expression.
Since she couldn’t voice her true thoughts, she screamed them silently in her head.
Please, let me get by doing the bare minimum. I beg you… My life goal is to be a salary thief.
While her mind schemed, her mouth appealed to emotion.
Thinking quickly, she fabricated an excuse on the spot.
“Your Highness, actually… my back isn’t very good. I studied too long in the academy library.”
Clyde perked up.
“The library?”
Oh—this is working.
Judging by the way he tilted his head, he was clearly interested in her hastily made excuse.
Perfect.
Edith hurriedly added details.
“My family wasn’t well off, so without a scholarship I couldn’t have attended the academy. I had no choice but to bury myself in books…”
Even to her own ears, it sounded convincing. Though entirely made up, it had a certain logic.
It was true that she desperately needed scholarships, and she did visit the library often. The difference was that the books she read were about this world’s history, culture, and customs.
Fortunately, Edith’s original character was brilliant enough that she didn’t actually need to sit in the reading room all day.
Clyde, who had no way of knowing her academy life, briefly showed a trace of sympathy—then erased it.
Heartless crown prince. With a backstory like that, shouldn’t he have felt at least a little compassion?
Regaining his firmness, he lifted his elegant chin.
“In that case, it’s better to properly set up your work environment before starting.”
“Really?”
Success. Was this her escape, at least for now?
“It wouldn’t do for my first attendant to be constantly unwell. We have many days ahead of us together, Edith.”
Who decided we’d have many days together?
Please reserve that kind of line for the main lead.
With that dazzling face spouting rosy words, she knew it just meant let’s work hard, yet her heart still thumped unnecessarily.
Still, something about her job title sounded odd—strangely demeaning.
“Attendant… you mean a personal attendant?”
She asked with a sour expression, imagining herself fussing over an arrogant royal. He hadn’t actually behaved that way, but her imagination ran wild.
“You could say an attendant who assists with official duties.”
It sounded exactly like a regular attendant, yet he insisted on emphasizing the term.
She couldn’t openly show her displeasure, so she complained inwardly.
Clyde chose a term ripe for misunderstanding, named the position without hesitation, and casually swept his hair back.
Thinking it over, it made sense. There was no way Edith would be assigned petty chores like fetching water or cleaning. Duties related to serving the crown prince were meticulously divided—there was even a separate attendant just to dust ornaments.
Yet despite having dozens of palace staff at his disposal, Clyde intended to appoint someone specifically to assist with his official work. Edith couldn’t quite grasp his intention.
Even earlier in the office, the number of attendants handling imperial affairs had been overwhelming. It wasn’t as though Clyde worked in just one room; along the long corridor were rooms filled with attendants and officials.
“But…”
“I know what you’re thinking, Edith. Still, I’d like you to trust me and follow my lead for now. There’s something I need to do, and I want to form the exact team I have in mind.”
In an organization, when someone at the top gives an order, you obey. At this point, there was no choice but to follow his decision.
Working in a side chamber next to his bedroom was unsettling, and his true intentions were unclear. Still, drawing on her real-world office experience, she wrapped things up smoothly.
She added plenty of positive remarks like You must have a deeper plan and I’m really looking forward to it.
* * *
With a few days of leave granted, Edith stayed briefly at her bleak, echoing home.
She never once saw her father. In the vast mansion, the only people she encountered were a handful of servants who barely managed to clean her room and prepare three meals a day.
Edith had lost her personal maid early on, when the family’s finances began to decline.
Her father, indifferent to his daughter’s comfort, cut costs by dismissing the highest-paid staff first. Among the butler, attendants, and maids, her maid was the first to go.
As a result, Edith learned to do everything herself—a habit ingrained in the original Edith.
Coincidentally, even before transmigrating, she hadn’t liked relying on others either, which was a small mercy.
For example, when it was mentioned that there weren’t enough people to assist with bathing, Edith said she’d rather do it herself. After the servants filled the tub and left, she washed using the bathing tools on her own.
Normally she would have worn a chemise into the water, but with no one around, she locked the door and stepped in naked. Washing with soap made from natural ingredients left her feeling wonderfully refreshed.
They say people in the real Middle Ages bathed only twice in their lives, but perhaps the original author valued cleanliness—people in this world were set to bathe quite often.
After bathing, eating, and lazing about all day, a thought suddenly struck her.
Oh right. If I don’t want Clyde constantly riding me, I need to attach Adrian to him as soon as possible.
Imagining herself soon buried under heavy workloads, dark circles swallowing her cheeks, gave her the motivation to lift her body from the bed and couch where she’d been sprawled.
Edith already knew Adrian.
They were academy classmates and had shared a few classes.
Whenever they happened to cross paths, she pretended not to know him. Just as she wanted to avoid getting entangled with Clyde, she tried to keep her distance from the main lead as well.
Still, Adrian likely knew Edith by name. She’d been a full-term scholarship student and frequently ranked first during exams, her name posted on notice boards—he probably remembered her.
Though she’d ignored him for three years, his reputation was impossible to escape.
His looks, radiating a different kind of beauty from Clyde’s, were widely admired, and his gentle personality and empathetic nature only fueled his popularity.
The number of people who followed him could probably circle the grand training field and then some.
She even knew that Adrian’s nickname was Arti.
People chanted Arti, Arti from all directions so often that she eventually felt as though he were practically her friend.
