Episode 2
“Since we worked hard this morning, let’s eat something tasty!”
It was finally lunchtime.
I walked up to John Smith’s desk, leaned in with a big smile.
He smiled back, though he had slight dark circles under his eyes.
Ah. My heart hurts.
‘He’s so tired… but still so handsome.’
He had loosened his collar a little, and the veins on his rolled-up sleeves were visible.
Everything about him was just… too charming.
“Sure. Is there something you want to eat?”
“Hmm, something super, super spicy? They say spicy food is the best for stress.”
“Spicy, huh… I think a nearby place just added a spicy stew with bread to the menu.”
“Perfect! Let’s go there. But… can you handle spicy food?”
“I’m willing to test my limits today.”
So, we sat down at a stew place near the palace. While we waited for our food, we chatted across the table.
“Hmmm.”
Smith looked around the restaurant, his eyes sharp and serious—like he was carefully observing everything.
“Mr. Smith, what are you doing?”
“Surveying the people’s livelihood.”
“…Huh?”
Smith could be a bit random sometimes.
He’d ask restaurant owners questions for his so-called “research,” or buy a bunch of groceries during lunch breaks to check food prices.
“I think you can understand the struggles of merchants just by looking at restaurants near the palace.”
“If someone saw you, they’d think you were the emperor.”
Smith was silent for a few seconds, then smiled.
“Well, they do say to work like you own the place.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that. Especially since the actual owner doesn’t even care—why should I?”
It seemed like a lot of other people in the restaurant felt the same way.
While we waited, we heard sighs and complaints from other tables.
Most of the customers worked in departments near the palace.
“I had to turn someone away from the temple today! What was I supposed to do when His Majesty refused to meet them?!”
A middle-aged man, probably from the foreign affairs department, yelled while shoveling stew into his mouth.
“Ah! So hot! This stuff is really spicy.”
Then a middle-aged woman beside him complained.
“Don’t even get me started. I need an answer about the new tax policy, but His Majesty ran off with the royal seal!”
“What?! You saw the emperor?!”
Everyone looked at her like she’d just found a four-leaf clover or spotted a rare animal.
“Of course not. That’s just what the royal guard told me. Cough… But wow, this is really spicy.”
“Oh… I see.”
Why do you all look so disappointed?
Anyway, if even those departments are struggling, how bad must it be for us, his direct assistant team?
“Food’s ready!”
Just then, our bubbling, spicy stew was served. With a dash of pepper, it had the perfect kick.
“Warm food really does help. How is it, Mr. Smith?”
Smith took a bite of stew, rested his chin on his hand, and looked at me. His eyes were watery.
“Ahem… huff… Miss Rose Foy, do you like spicy food?”
His tone sounded a bit intimidating.
But his voice itself was warm, so in the end, it always felt like he was just a caring senior.
I rubbed my tired eyes and muttered,
“Yes. I’ve loved it since my previous life.”
“…Previous life?”
Suddenly, I snapped to my senses.
“Ah—No! I mean, I love it so much, it’s like I’ve loved it since my past life! Just a joke! Haha!”
“…I see. Then we’ll have to come here often.”
Whew, that was close. My heart almost dropped.
Did stress from work make me lose it? I almost let it slip that I reincarnated!
The truth is, I’m living inside the world of the novel “Empress Adeline”, which I read in my previous life.
I realized this when I was nine years old and jumped off a balcony wearing a cape… and passed out.
The empire I live in—Greenmelody—is the setting of a touching story where a moody emperor meets a bright empress and finds love, turning his life around.
That story ended long ago. Empress Adeline is now married and has a son.
And that son is the lazy tyrant I serve.
But come on! No one said the heroine’s son would grow up and go on strike! How is this a happy ending?!
…Then again, Adeline’s sudden death a year ago wasn’t in the original either.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
“Oh, nothing! Wow, this is delicious!”
Trying to distract myself, I exaggerated my reaction to the food.
The fiery taste burned my tongue and instantly melted away my stress.
Mmm. I hope our lazy emperor gets to taste this spicy stew from hell.
“We should come here often!”
“Y-Yeah… sure.”
Smith’s hand trembled.
He was barely managing to eat one spoonful at a time, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
He’s doing his best. We’ll definitely come here again.
Now, if you’re wondering why our emperor went on strike… well, that’s a long story.
Like, maybe… 369 days long?
“Aaah! Again?!”
I screamed in the middle of the quiet office.
But none of the other assistants said anything. They either agreed silently or stayed quiet because I was their senior.
What? You think I’m a senior even though I’ve only been here a year?
Well, that’s because everyone who joined with me quit before three months passed.
Which meant that, after Chief Assistant John Smith, I was the second most senior person in the office.
But what good did that do?
“Three days! He hasn’t approved anything for three whole days!”
Today marked the third time I’d been turned away.
“If we don’t send this diplomatic document by the afternoon, it’ll be too late!”
I could understand this country’s slow working pace… to a point.
I’d even dealt with delayed replies in the European branch of my last job in Korea.
But this was too much.
As a former Korean office worker who needed everything done fast, I finally snapped.
“I mean it this time! I’m going to stamp it myself! Don’t stop me!”
I had taken the official assistant seal from John Smith’s desk while he was out on a half-day business trip.
My junior coworkers rushed in, panicked.
“Miss Foy, no! Just wait one more day!”
“This is an official foreign policy document! It must have the emperor’s seal!”
“I know! I know! That’s why I went to see him three days in a row!”
If the document was important, His Majesty usually stamped it after a day or two.
“But now he’s not even doing that!”
When the nation stalls, it’s the assistant’s duty to make it run.
I had lost it. I was swinging the seal around, ready to stamp.
“I’m doing it right now.”
Surely the other country will understand if I tell them the emperor didn’t stamp it himself.
My juniors looked like baby chicks crying as they tried to stop me.
“Just wait half a day longer!”
“Sniff… His Majesty is really too much. What kind of emperor just disappears?!”
Our emperor used to be a good ruler.
Even though he was young, his first five years on the throne were great—so much that people thought the empire was entering a golden age.
There were probably two big reasons why he fell apart.
Of course, no one knows for sure. He never explained it.
First, his mother, the former Empress Adeline, suddenly died a year ago. Cause unknown, but possibly poison.
Second, his close political ally, Count Meyer, was falsely accused and executed by other officials.
After losing two important people back-to-back, the emperor locked his doors and stopped showing himself.
As if protesting the world itself.
“But how is that my fault?! Why do I have to suffer?! I wasn’t even one of the people who betrayed him!”
The struggle continued—a fierce battle between those trying to stamp the paper and those trying to stop me.
“Miss Foy! Mr. John Smith is back!”
“What?”
Just as I was about to press the seal to paper, I heard that familiar name.
I turned in excitement and waved at my beloved boss.
“Mr. Smith!”
Then I froze. Because of what he was holding.
“Wait… is that—?”
With a dazzling smile, Smith nodded.
“Yes. It’s His Majesty’s seal.”
The royal seal?!
The very thing I had been desperately looking for… was in his hand.
