Chapter 12
In the Enderos Empire, there was a beloved little sun. When that boy grew up and became a true sun, no one doubted that he would become a greater emperor than any ruler recorded in history.
The boy had been extraordinary since birth—a prodigy with a brilliant mind and an admirable character. Resembling his mother, the greatest beauty of the empire, his finely sculpted, dazzling features were one of his many shining virtues.
And that wasn’t all. His bright golden hair, like honey melted and poured, looked as though fragments of light had been scattered strand by strand. When he smiled freshly and gazed somewhere into the distance, it was like a scene from a masterpiece painting. His gentle voice sounded like a heavenly hymn to those who heard it.
Though he was only sixteen, noble ladies from prestigious families were desperate to catch his eye, eager to push their daughters into imperial banquets somehow.
Such was the perfection of Adrian Jeian Lonte Enderos, Crown Prince of the Enderos Empire. If a prince from a fairy tale were to step out into reality, he would look exactly like that.
“How troubling.”
And yet, that highly praised boy was currently deep in thought within a solemn atmosphere.
Spread out before him was a large map, with pins stuck into specific regions, indicating particular objectives. The attendants standing nearby handed him whatever he needed whenever he extended his hand.
One of the knights observing quietly—a man with the most solid build and upright bearing—approached the boy.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince, may I ask what troubles you?”
Adrian was currently holding a key position in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, carrying out important duties. It might seem questionable to entrust such responsibility to a mere sixteen-year-old, but royalty were judged differently. Even at a young age, they bore responsibilities beyond imagination.
Perhaps he sensed the loyal knight’s concern about failing to understand his young lord’s worries. Adrian lifted his head and smiled gently. Like spring flowers blooming brilliantly, his fresh radiance seemed to color the room.
“Sir Berion, it is nothing of great concern. Only—this place.”
The tip of his long finger pressed against a specific spot.
Everyone in the room turned their gaze to where he pointed. A flicker of confusion passed over Sir Berion’s face. On the fertile territory, a family crest was drawn to mark whose land it was.
“If that is a sword entwined with rose vines…”
“That’s right.”
Adrian’s green eyes curved softly like rippling water.
And within them flashed a distinct excitement that was difficult to interpret.
Hiding his fervor, the boy issued his command in a gentle whisper.
“The Duchy of Tinya. It seems we must pass through here.”
“Was the King of Shadows merely a symbol of fear and terror? He was the most outstanding and the strongest among his kin. Given their nature of serving only the strong, he was the perfect king.
The power he possessed touched half the realm of miracles and half the realm of gods. Many feared him, yet just as many respected him. The chaos that had once rejected him gradually turned into reverence beneath fear. Yet he could not be loved. His cold heart accepted no one else, and thus blood and death never ceased to flow around him.
Therefore, the appearance of the only woman who could restrain such a cruel being must have been like sweet rain falling after a drought.
The King of Shadows was like a lone wolf. And into his pack, he accepted only that one woman. Only one. How could that not be called true love?”
…A lone wolf, my foot.
I shuddered as I recalled the opening paragraph of Vasilisa’s side story chapter. Even though I had skimmed through it without much interest, it remained vivid in my mind.
“You look pretty used to brushing hair.”
“I learn everything well. I’m smart.”
“…Guess you learned how to brag well too?”
Swish, swish. Each time he ran his hand smoothly through my hair, his fingertips trembled slightly. As I rolled my eyes, I realized I had never actually been introduced to Vasilisa by name. Hey, you. That kind of address had its limits.
“You. What should I call you?”
It was a question I blurted out suddenly. If a noble girl who knew nothing showed too little interest in her new attendant—a mysterious boy who was also a Tilet—it would seem strange.
“Call me Vasilisa.”
“……”
“Hm? Why?”
I hadn’t expected him to give his real name so easily.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard.
‘Why say it so casually? Doesn’t he need to hide his name? At this point in time? Or is he just confident that even if someone finds out, it won’t matter?’
He didn’t seem like a fugitive.
As various thoughts ran through my mind, I felt his slow, observant gaze sharpen as if he sensed something. Ghost-like, really.
‘He’s impossible to predict.’
My head felt complicated. This moment did not exist in the original story.
I had subtly expressed to my mother that I wanted Vasilisa to stay, but I had never truly thought he would remain in this estate. Why would a character from the original story get entangled with a background extra like me? And I knew his personality well.
Yet here he was—one of the male leads—stuck to me as my attendant.
Seeing him humming while brushing my hair, he didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving soon.
‘What on earth is he planning?’
There were too many suspicious things. Vasilisa was famous for his rotten personality—so why was he brushing my hair? And also—
‘Why does he keep smiling like that?’
My heart wasn’t pounding like in a romance novel scene. I knew too well that the gentle-looking smile was nothing but a mask, and that knowledge only sent chills down my spine. If you mistook that sweetness for candy and swallowed it whole, it would clog your throat and choke you to death.
‘I need to stay on guard.’
I sharpened my senses.
And so, several days passed.
“My lady.”
I nearly screamed.
Whirling my head around, I saw the pretty boy standing there neatly, wearing his shameless smile.
Please—could you stop calling me “my lady”?
“If you don’t like that, then noona?”
He read the disgust on my face instantly.
“That’s not great either.”
“Then you there. Why are you dozing off like a sick chicken? Go inside.”
A sick chicken?
What kind of attendant speaks to his lady like that? Damn this reality.
I had just finished my lessons and was exhausted, sprawled on a bench in the garden. I blinked—and the boy who hadn’t been there a moment ago was suddenly standing before me, smiling brightly.
“There can’t be many noble ladies living as lazily as you.”
“Ugh.”
“Anyone watching would think you’re the only one studying in the world.”
“Stop being sarcastic.”
He didn’t panic at the sight of my nosebleed trickling down. Calmly, he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and swiftly wiped it away. He moved as if he’d already memorized how many times he needed to dab before it stopped. Soon, I felt it cease.
When I stared at him blankly, he twisted his lips arrogantly.
“What? Are you touched because I’m so good at wiping nosebleeds?”
“……”
I let his familiar boasting roll past and let out a helpless laugh. If one were being generous, Vasilisa’s personality was adaptable anywhere. If not—he was shameless.
I wanted to ask him. Why are you adapting so well? You’re not like this. Who compliments someone for wiping a nosebleed well?
Over the past few days, Vasilisa had shown adaptability worthy of someone born having already mastered the role of an attendant. With long limbs, a small face, and movements as elusive as a phantom—
“Drink, noona. I got it from the kitchen.”
“…Thanks.”
I accepted it reflexively, then bit my tongue in regret. As I groaned and frowned, he smiled faintly again, as if reading my thoughts. We weren’t even fighting, yet somehow I felt like I’d lost.
“Drink it before it melts.”
“I will.”
“Yes, yes.”
I shouldn’t get used to this. I really shouldn’t.
But honestly, Vasilisa was too comfortable to have around. In my hand was fruit juice with ice floating inside. I cautiously took a sip and smiled at the cool, sweet taste.
Ah. Heaven.
I slouched like a sloth and muttered dreamily, unaware that Vasilisa was looking at me like I was hopeless.
“Hey. Don’t steal too much of Sasha’s work.”
“Sasha? That maid noona?”
“Yeah.”
These days Sasha seemed to have moved past anger into depression. She’d come to me sniffling, mainly to complain about the annoyingly competent boy attendant who had suddenly popped into the estate.
Because Vasilisa was so outstanding, her workload had dropped sharply—and it made her sad. The once-angry Sasha was now jealous of him.
In a sorrowful voice, she had pleaded, “He’s stealing my time with you, my lady! A rolling stone is pushing out a settled one! I’m so upset! This isn’t right…”
‘As if I’d ever like him more than Sasha.’
Snickering faintly as I blinked drowsily, I noticed Vasilisa dragging over another chair and sitting down beside me. Then he stared at me intently.
Was he challenging me to a staring contest?
“…What?”
