Luan couldn't bring himself to wake at the crack of dawn the way Kirian did. But he was cursed with eyes that snapped open the instant it was time to get ready for work. Which meant, roughly, seven in the morning.
Huh?
Feeling unusually refreshed, Luan opened his eyes and blinked slowly. Strange. The voice that woke him like a six o'clock alarm every morning hadn't come. He turned his head naturally and—
“Aaagh!”
“...You're awake.”
He let out a short scream. It wasn't the morning sun greeting him, but two blood-red eyes glaring at him.
He had no idea why Kirian, who'd insisted he would sleep on the couch, was here. Seeing him propped on one hand beside the bed, watching him, Luan recoiled in horror. The hollows under his eyes were sunken and the whites bloodshot, a clear sign he hadn't slept properly.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“Nursing.”
“This looks more like surveillance.”
Luan grimaced and dragged the blanket up. A chill ran down his spine. Was the genre actually a thriller?
But Kirian only smiled, satisfied.
“You slept well. Your breathing was steady, so I felt reassured.”
“I'll get sleep paralysis at this rate.”
“You didn't seem to.”
“It's a figure of speech.”
He had no energy left to keep wrestling with the man. Luan ignored him and got up. His body felt clear. When he touched his cheek, the swelling had gone down considerably, thanks to the ice packs. Feeling around his mouth, he found the scab where his lip had split. The cheek that had turned a dark red yesterday would take a while longer to fade too, so even without a mirror he knew he looked a wreck.
Whatever. I don't have to go to work anyway.
Once he'd used the anemia excuse, Kirian had stopped making him work. Apparently the man's conscience pricked at the idea of putting him to work in such a frail state. That, Luan welcomed.
“Eat. It's porridge.”
This, however, he did not welcome. Watching Kirian pick up the spoon as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Luan furrowed his brow.
“I'll feed myself. My hands are perfectly fine.”
“No. Open your mouth.”
“Skipping breakfast settles my stomach better.”
“Patients don't get a choice. Open your mouth.”
Luan stared at the spoon in his hand for a moment. If he refused, the man would get angry, then try to persuade him, and it would drag on. The conclusion was that simply accepting the spoonfuls was the most efficient option.
It's not like it's baby food.
Even as he thought it, Luan mechanically opened his mouth. The porridge went in. He chewed a few times and swallowed. It tasted fine, but he felt nothing. If anything, his mental fatigue only climbed.
“You're eating well.”
Still, Kirian's expression eased a fraction. He was satisfied that Luan's will to live hadn't yet vanished. Even coughing up blood and unable to hold himself upright, the man had stood against his own father and kept eating his meals faithfully, refusing to throw his life away.
When the porridge bowl was half empty, Luan finally refused to eat any more. The bowl had started to look like a washbasin. When am I supposed to finish all that?
Fortunately, Kirian seemed to think he'd eaten enough and set the tray down on the table beside the bed without a word. Then, without hesitation, he laid a hand on Luan's forehead. It was a hot, rough hand. Luan didn't pull away and stayed still. Pulling away was a waste of energy too.
“No fever. Your face...”
Should I just kill him after all? Kirian, who had been mentally drafting an assassination plan for Duke Requies, recalled Luan's warning and exhaled.
“The swelling's gone down a lot.”
“You're pale.”
“My skin is naturally fair.”
“At least you've got the energy to talk back. That's a relief.”
When Kirian carefully withdrew his hand, Luan spoke. He'd eaten, so he might as well say his piece.
“Your Majesty.”
“What is it? Water?”
“No. There's something I need to discuss regarding my lodgings.”
Luan's voice was as dry as ever. The content, however, was not dry in the least.
“I should return to the Empress's Palace.”
“...Return?”
Kirian's hand stilled. Luan pressed on regardless, delivering his point. Frankly, he couldn't take it anymore. It felt like being admitted to a hospital. In which case, he ought to file for discharge.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why, you ask. Because that's where I live.”
“No.”
“It's the proper arrangement by the rules.”
Kirian's eyebrows shot up. The expression that had finally softened turned sharp again. He folded his arms, leaned back against the chair, and crossed his legs as if daring Luan to go on. Look at that arrogant posture. But Luan was never one to back down.
“Legally, we are within the divorce cooling-off period. It's said to be a time for repairing the marital relationship, but in principle it means living separately.”
After all, they'd lived apart even before the divorce, and he'd only been dragged here because of the man's fickle, boiling-pot moods. He'd lived here a month, which was plenty. But Kirian only stared at him as if waiting for more. You think I can't keep going?
“This place is where the Empire's secrets pass through. It isn't appropriate for someone slated for divorce to reside here. It's a security violation.”
He'd been processing documents in defiance of that very security until recently, but still. Frankly, who actually likes working? It had been a spinal reflex.
But even this drew no reaction from Kirian. In that case, he'd go with this.
“And I'm a patient. What a patient needs most is rest, so please send me back.”
He'd already learned that appealing to emotion didn't work on Kirian. He had to dig in with logic. He laid out his case grounded in rules, facts, and efficiency. Part of it was that Kirian had grown quite a bit gentler toward him, so he figured now was a reasonable time to make the proposal.
“Denied.”
...Or so he'd thought.
“What?”
Oh, come on! What pigheaded nonsense is it this time?
Kirian cut him off flatly.
“During the cooling-off period, the couple's residence may be decided by mutual agreement.”
“I didn't agree.”
“I agreed.”
“Is one party's agreement an agreement?”
“I'm the Emperor. My word is law, and it's agreement.”
What kind of bullheaded skill is this? Until now, Luan had kept Kirian out of the category of insufferable cranks, but this was a manner of speech very close to one. No, it was the logic of a dictator.
“And security regulations? You think you'll smuggle out secrets because you're Requies's second son?”
Kirian smirked and leaned toward Luan. His red eyes gazed deep into the lilac ones.
“Go ahead and smuggle them. I don't care. I stopped fearing a mere ducal house a long time ago.”
Damn it. Well, after getting slapped yesterday, that wasn't really something he could argue with. Seeing that Kirian was even willing to order a summary execution, the balance of power had probably already tipped. Kirian went on.
“And you said you were uncomfortable?”
“I said I need rest.”
“Not my problem.”
Ah, hell. He's certainly got a consistent character. The truth was that the unease of not having Luan in sight bothered Kirian more than Luan's discomfort did. Kirian pulled the tray back over and picked up the porridge bowl. Luan recoiled. Here we go again.
“Don't pretend to be all logical. You can't even walk from the pain. Where do you think you're going?”
“The injury isn't to my legs.”
“You collapsed last time.”
“That was anemia—”
“Quiet. Just finish eating.”
The conversation wasn't getting through. In the end, Luan shut his mouth. Logic really didn't work. Maybe Kirian had the makings of a malicious complainant himself. In times like these, the answer was simply to give the man what he wanted and send him off quickly.
Luan mechanically opened his mouth again and accepted the porridge. The movement was robotic, soulless. Kirian, pleased by his obedient demeanor, wiped the porridge from the corner of his mouth with his thumb.
“Good boy.”
Luan accepted the touch with a blank face, but inwardly he was aghast. Now he really is seeing me as a child. Who's the actual child here, you green little brat...!
“If you're done eating, take your medicine.”
This time Kirian produced some medicine. The smell was so foul it had to be good for the body. Luan took it and asked.
“What medicine is this?”
“It's medicine to bring down the swelling and restore your strength.”
“What on earth went into it to make it smell like this?”
“Don't question it. Just drink.”
“No, but still—”
“Drink.”
Kirian pressed the bowl of medicine to his lips. Damn, it tastes like dog crap. Not that he'd actually tasted dog crap, but that was the impression. Still, when a piece of chocolate slid naturally into his mouth after, his mood lifted a little. He knows a thing or two.
“Rest. I'll come again at lunch.”
“At lunch my arms will still be perfectly fine.”
“Your mouth certainly is.”
Kirian gathered up the tray with the empty bowls and stood. Before leaving, he glanced at Luan one more time.
“Don't even think about running.”
Damn, I should've slipped off to the Empress's Palace without a word.
“I don't have the energy to run.”
“Good. Stay put.”
Kirian closed the door and left. Well, at least he closes the door for me now. But from the direction of the corridor came an ominous sound. The footsteps of the knights guarding the door had noticeably multiplied.
Luan stared blankly at the door, then lay back down. Come to think of it, isn't there nothing to lose here? If he left this room, he'd only end up working anyway, so he might as well lie down and stay comfortable.
Luan pulled the blanket over his head again. He'd stop thinking and just sleep.
Knock, knock, knock.
After several days of what amounted to confinement, Luan finally heard a sound from the outside world.
It came from the door dividing the Emperor's and Empress's rooms. Kirian was, as ever, here to keep watch over him, so it was obvious who it was.
“Your Majesty, it's Kael.”
The goldfish dropping.
“I have an urgent matter to report.”
“Come in.”
Why do you have to do that in my room? Luan turned his head to look at Kirian. Ah, right, because of him.
The moment Kirian gave permission, the door opened and Kael came in. The instant he saw Luan's face, he flinched, then bowed deeply. It wasn't hard to understand. The swelling had gone down, but the color was all blotchy and rather dreadful to look at.
“I failed to protect you. The fault is mine.”
How exactly was the guy tacked onto Kirian as an accessory supposed to protect me? Still, genuine guilt rang in Kael's voice. Luan slurped the spoon he'd been using to scoop pudding and replied indifferently.
“It's fine. How were you supposed to stop that man?”
“But...”
Kael blinked, flustered by Luan's dry reaction. After a few days, Luan's face looked even more like a patient's, the scab at the corner of his mouth thicker and the cheek risen a dark, bruised purple. Yet he was negotiating with Kirian for one more pudding as if it were nothing. Meanwhile Kirian was telling him no, since he'd be eating a meal shortly.
“You said it was urgent. Report first.”
If Kael, who'd reportedly been sorting documents in the office in tears because he couldn't bear to look at Luan's face, had come in person, it had to be no ordinary emergency. His gaze had already shifted into that of an Emperor's aide. Kael hardened his expression and pulled out several newspapers.
“Duke Requies's side... has begun a public opinion campaign.”
“What?”
Kirian took the newspaper. It was one of the tabloids. And as tabloids always do, it bore a sensational headline splashed across the page in enormous print.
Shocking! Emperor Confines and Beats Empress? Even the Duke's Request for a Visit Refused by Force!
Inside Testimony Claims to Have Witnessed the Empress's Injuries!
“Ha.”
Kirian let out a flabbergasted, dry laugh. The newspaper crumpled in his grip.
“They're pinning this on me?”
It was the height of audacity. Luan looked at the article with a wistful expression, slurping his spoon. If he weren't the Empress himself, he'd have been asking where the next chapter was. The headlines were superbly written.
“The rumors among the nobility are ugly too.”
“Tell me.”
“They say Your Majesty, enraged at the Empress for demanding a divorce, took private retribution—”
“...I really should have killed him after all.”
Killing intent began to pour off Kirian's body. The thing that stopped him from charging straight for the Duke was Luan's voice.
“This isn't my father's handiwork.”
“What?”
“He doesn't particularly care for behind-the-scenes maneuvering like this.”
Is he defending the Duke? After what was done to him? But upon hearing what came next, Kirian withdrew his brief suspicion.
“This is Lucien's touch.”
Lucien Requies. The name of Requies's eldest son spilled out. Luan spoke with detachment, as if to say that if you're going to wreck someone, you ought to aim properly.
“What made you judge it that way?”
“My brother prefers to stir things up loudly through the tabloids. He enjoys watching the other party's honor drop to the floor.”
He's a pervert. For some reason satisfied by Luan's words, Kirian quietly pushed the pudding over to him. Reclaiming his stolen pudding, Luan smiled gently. It was a smile that lifted the mood all on its own.
“He wants me to charge in like a blindfolded boar.”
“It would look like an admission that the rumors are true. And it's perfect for framing.”
“Framing, you say.”
“Call you a tyrant and people will be eager to take an interest, won't they?”
In the original story, there hadn't seemed to be much difference, but at this point in time Kirian was a fresh, green twenty-year-old emperor. Having just gained the upper hand in his tug-of-war with the Council of Nobles, he was still maintaining his composure. Besides, unlike in the original future, the element that would provoke him—Aiden—hadn't yet made his proper entrance.
“What should we do?”
Kael asked anxiously.
“Letting the nonsense stand isn't a good approach either. With rumors like this, the truth doesn't matter.”
Luan turned his head to look at Kirian. Isn't he the least bit indignant? Diligently applying ice packs, standing watch all night like a CCTV camera under the guise of nursing. The actual domestic abuser was Duke Requies, and getting the blame pinned on you for it had to be infuriating.
“What's the plan?”
This man really is a sly old fox. When Luan asked calmly, Kael's eyes lit up. Of course he came with all the answers ready. The fact that he'd raised the problem so confidently meant he'd worked out a solution too.
“Right now, a hundred words of explanation matter less than one clear action.”
Kael said.
“Simply letting people see the two of you being affectionate firsthand will be enough.”
“Affectionate?”
“This false rumor spread so fast partly because there are plenty of rumors about your relationship but almost no firsthand sightings of it.”
“So we show them directly?”
“Yes.”
Kael proposed with a solemn expression.
“The two of you go out for a stroll during the hours when nobles come and go the most.”
How ordinary.
“Arm in arm.”
That's a bit—
“Exchanging gazes dripping with honey, too.”
...That's gone beyond ordinary.
“If you show that the Empress is perfectly fine and that the two of you are on good terms, the rumors will be dismissed.”
In other words, they were to put on a show-window-couple act. He understood it. As Kael said, it was efficient. But Luan's brow knotted hard.
“A stroll?”
“Yes.”
“I'll pass.”
At the flat refusal, Kael's eyes widened. “Excuse me?!” As if a refusal had never crossed his mind, he was deeply shocked, and Luan pointed at his own face.
“I'm a patient. I'm on sick leave. I'll decline the outdoor duty.”
His return to the Empress's Palace had already gone up in smoke. It was also a small revenge against Kirian, who'd said his discomfort was no concern of his. They were getting divorced anyway, so what did a rumor of a bad relationship matter? It was far better than a rumor of a good one.
When Luan refused outright, Kael grew flustered.
“Your Majesty, please...! The dignity of the imperial family is at stake.”
“My dignity hit rock bottom long ago. I'm not doing it.”
“Are you all right with His Majesty being branded a tyrant?”
“What's it to me? We're getting divorced anyway.”
It was an iron wall. Bewildered, Kael looked to Kirian. Kirian's mood had soured considerably. Less because of the rumor and more because of that word, divorce.
Still, the rumor did need to be quashed. Why leave a rumor in place that would send the divorce-hungry Empress soaring off into freedom? Kirian pondered a moment, then played his trump card.
“An allowance.”
“...?”
“An outdoor-duty allowance. I'll give you one.”
The spoon poking at the pudding stopped. Since when have we communicated this well? Should've talked this way from the start.
“Let's get ready, then. What should I wear? How about matching couple outfits?”
Luan got up at once. He was the very monster capitalism had bred. Kael's jaw dropped, but Kirian smiled in satisfaction. The Emperor had finally figured Luan out.
