6 a.m.
The birds chirped without reading the room, and the sun rose, needlessly brilliant.
The empire's diligent, conscientious ruler, the young Emperor Kirian Eckart, had already risen and finished even his swordsmanship training at the drill grounds. Freshly showered and refreshed, shaking off the water, he threw open the door connecting to the next room.
“Empress, rise! It's morning!”
His spirited voice rang resoundingly through the room. But all that came back was a heavy silence. The white lump rising in the center of the wide bed didn't so much as twitch. Somehow it was a scene not so different from the one he'd seen yesterday.
“…”
Kirian frowned and approached the bed. The only thing poking out from beyond the snow-white duvet was a tangle of platinum-blond hair. The hair, glinting translucent in the morning light, looked downright holy, but its owner was the very picture of a corpse. He thought he'd even seen an attendant tuck this duvet over him. Surely he hasn't been in this exact state since last evening?
“I told you to get up. In my domain, I don't tolerate sloth.”
Kirian mercilessly flung the duvet aside. And there lay Luan, in the very same pose he'd last seen the night before. Unable even to open his eyes, the man slithered like a snowman melting in the sun.
“…Ngh.”
“What was that?”
“…The illuminance is too high.”
Luan muttered dryly, covering his eyes with one arm. At the word choice slipping out even half-asleep, Kirian let out a scoff. He couldn't help but marvel at the Empress, who never failed to show him something new.
“It's not illuminance, it's the sun.”
“…”
“Do you know what time it is?”
“I'd rather not know…”
“Get up. Breakfast is ready.”
Kirian grabbed Luan's arm and hauled him up by force. But the man's upper body came up limp as a boneless invertebrate and slid right back down onto the bed the instant his hand let go. The long, slender nape drooped along with his head and flopped down.
Dumbfounded, Kirian crossed his arms and glared sharply. Then Luan forced his unclosable eyes open and looked at Kirian. There was no focus in the hazily unfocused pale-violet eyes. That dim gaze was less mystical than it was brimming with the emptiness of a man finding every single thing in this world too tiresome to bear.
Kirian looked at those eyes and thought:
Shouldn't he normally spring up in alarm?
This was, after all, a wake-up call from the Emperor himself. Was his majesty not getting through, or was that indifference some affectation the man adopted? Don't tell me he's ignoring me? It was an attitude that oddly provoked the competitive streak of the just-turned-twenty Emperor.
No—the fact that he was being provoked by something this trivial was itself a blow to his pride.
“Wash up and come out. I'll give you ten minutes.”
Kirian dropped Luan like a sack of cargo and walked out. Luan once again became one with the bed, buried his face in the pillow, and rained down curses.
“Damned morning person.”
In a past life or this one, a diligent boss is the enemy of all mankind.
Twenty minutes later.
On the dining table sat freshly baked bread, a crisp salad, and a steak running with juices. Kirian began his breakfast, working his knife with elegance. He observed Luan, seated across from him.
Even now, Luan—who'd dawdled and arrived just barely in time not to get yelled at—sat half-melted into his chair, dressed in the clothes the attendants had put on him. One had to credit him for managing to stay upright at all. His platinum-blond hair, roughly combed back, had a few strands spilling over his forehead, and his pale face hadn't a trace of color. He looked like a doll whose soul had run off.
“Not eating?”
Kirian asked. Luan had stopped his spoon midair and was staring blankly down at the soup. What's the point of a staring contest with your food? Just as Kirian was about to say one more thing, Luan's pale lips parted.
“The act of mastication is too much trouble.”
“…What?”
“I'd rather not expend energy on the process of chewing and swallowing.”
At the claim that even moving his mouth was a bother, Kirian slowly closed his eyes and opened them. Don't tell me this is supposed to be a joke? But the man went on in earnest.
“If you'd permit it, might I just make do with drinking it down?”
At the eyes looking at him so earnestly—plaintively, even—Kirian found himself answering, “Do as you like,” before he knew it. The moment permission dropped, Luan lifted the soup bowl like a teacup and slurped it down. It was preposterous. A meal that tossed table manners to the dogs. Going by the talk of energy, it was at least efficient.
Is that defiance, or a protest?
Far from fearing him, the man's conduct was brazen beyond measure, at odds with his looks. Not a speck of tension to be seen. If anything, it was an attitude that read as you summoned me, so you can hardly complain about having to witness this sorry state. Then again, the man probably didn't even think that much.
“Empress.”
“Yes.”
“You slept well last night, it seems. Not a sound out of you.”
“Yes. The bed was excellent.”
“Aren't you a touch too carefree?”
He hadn't searched for listening devices or sought out an escape route—he'd just sprawled out and slept the day away. Kirian threw out the pointed remark and watched for Luan's reaction. He'd lobbed it out half-accusing the man of having some hidden agenda, but Luan set down his water glass and replied indifferently.
“If I'd done anything suspicious in the room right beside Your Majesty's bedchamber, would Your Majesty have simply let it slide?”
“…”
“Trusting in Your Majesty's surveillance abilities, I slept soundly.”
When the man went on to say there was no need to keep his guard up with the empire's finest security system right beside him, Kirian was flabbergasted. Is he serious?
Luan stared straight at Kirian with sleepy eyes. The listless gaze held not a trace of fear or fluster. It was merely a request brimming with weariness: Could you stop poking at me and let me eat?
Kirian was, for a moment, lost for words. Security system. No one in his life had ever treated the Emperor like his own household guard. And yet, rather than being offended, the sheer absurdity of it made laughter bubble up.
He has a talent for leaving me speechless.
Kirian propped his chin on his hand and smiled crookedly. The Empress, properly faced for the first time in five years, had more interesting facets than expected.
“Fine. You want to conserve your stamina—I'll show some consideration.”
“Thank you. Then I'll get back to bed…”
“In exchange, you'll have to use your head a little.”
At Kirian's gesture, the chamberlain approached carrying a thick stack of documents.
Thud.
A mountain of paperwork piled up on the dining table. Luan's sleepy eyes opened wide for the first time. His pupils shook wildly. What ominous business are you pulling at the breakfast table?
“…What is this?”
“The Empress's duties.”
Since when did such a thing exist? No—it had existed, but since when had it been assigned to him? When Luan stared at Kirian, the man pulled the corner of his mouth up.
“Things that have piled up over the past few years, since the position was vacant.”
And whose fault was that vacancy? It was a brazen remark beyond measure. Luan replied calmly.
“I'm a man who'll be divorced soon, though.”
“Until the divorce, you're the Empress. You ought to earn your keep, shouldn't you?”
Kirian smiled wickedly.
“Get all of it done by the end of today.”
What kind of workplace harassment is this? And to be told to handle it without so much as a single handover—did he have to go through this even after coming to a fantasy world?
“If you can't… you know, don't you? That our shared chamber door has no lock.”
It was plainly a threat. At the same time, it was also a ploy to test Luan.
He'll surely make a sour face and say he can't, or beg for mercy. Or else light a fire under himself searching for information only the Emperor can access.
But what Kirian got to see was the Empress, Luan, heaving a deep, deep sigh. He neither made a sour face nor lit up his eyes. He looked up at the towering paper mountain on the dining table with bone-dry eyes. It was the gaze of a man looking at waste to be disposed of.
“…Ha.”
A short, deep sigh. It wasn't fear. With the eyes of the most work-averse man in the world, yet more in earnest than at any moment before, he looked up at the Emperor.
“…Do I get overtime pay?”
Since when does an Empress get a stipend? That would have been the proper reply, but in that instant even Kirian couldn't bring himself to say it. For in that moment, Luan looked less like an Empress than like an aide who'd just pulled a week of all-nighters.
