78

The Duke did not appear at the TWCR for some time after that.

I, secretly curious about his love life, probed Mr. Bull a little, but he knew nothing. In truth, I couldn’t even schedule proper appointments because of overtime, so there was no way to learn more.

Imperial officials are on a fixed salary—no matter how much overtime they put in, there’s no extra pay.

“Things like this were definitely better at the Marquis’s residence.”

It felt like I was buying dinners far pricier than any overtime could justify, but that wasn’t enough to shake my determination to leave work.

So, his romantic affairs aside, I needed to fix this problem first.

Seraphina Empire Chancellery. Business hours.

“Coco, you’re here again.”

Elysia, who had started getting a bit friendly, called my pet name in a small voice as a signal. I, absorbed in the administrative regulation reform, raised an eyebrow and looked up.

Again?

A tall man with cool, violet-gray hair swept neatly to one side strode in.

“Secretary Cornelia, are you busy?”

I stood and greeted the Duke of the Seraphina Empire, the Next Archduke and head of the Ministry of Justice, with the proper respect.

“Hello, Supreme Justice. No, I’m not. What is it?”

His red eyes, as if coldness dripped from them, fixed on me.

“Requesting cooperation. Come to the Ministry of Justice this evening.”

Small sighs rippled around the room. I glanced at the calendar on my desk.

How many weeks had this been? No, months?

My patience was beginning to wear thin.

“Yes. Understood.”

Like a veteran of office life, I replied with a flawless smile. It was almost instinct. After he left, dissatisfied murmurs broke out.

“What, do they think Chancellery staff are subordinates of the Ministry of Justice?”

Lucius, usually mild-tempered, sighed in disbelief.

“Exactly. Even if the acting Chancellor and the Minister of Finance permitted it, it’s not just a day or two—this is too much.”

Lukan chimed in as if he’d been waiting for the chance.

“Look at the secretary’s complexion. Who works overtime every day for weeks without a break?”

“It’s been over two months… that’s crossing the line.”

Elysia pushed up her horn-rimmed glasses and shot a sharp look.

“And it’s for another team’s work!”

“It’s all because the secretary is exceptional. So many cooperation requests come in. These days the Supreme Justice almost monopolizes them, though.”

One of the assistant clerks sighed deeply and said gloomily, “We can’t refuse. How can we turn down the requests of the Next Archduke, the Duke, the youngest Supreme Justice…”

Everyone voiced dissatisfaction without a solution. I thought differently.

“Why can’t we? Just do it.”

The Chancellery stared as if their eyes might pop out. When I smiled brightly and looked them squarely in the face, Lucan and Lucius put their hands to their foreheads, Elysia’s eyes sparkled, and a few newer clerks blinked in confusion.

At first I judged there were areas we could reasonably help with, so I cooperated. I was also curious how capable the empire’s top catch actually was. Had he not appointed me directly, our ranks would have been too far apart to work side by side like this.

“Perfect. Good work, Secretary Cornelia.”

A rare smile crossed his normally icy face. It was pleasing to see him satisfied with my work. I enjoyed admiring his statue-like features, but that was as far as it went. I had seen enough of a celebrity’s face.

I’m about to die of overwork, after all.

The youngest Supreme Justice, oblivious to my state, picked up a thick stack of documents beside him.

“I think it would be good to discuss this work together tomorrow.”

By rough estimate, it would take at least a week’s worth of overtime. What bothered me was whether someone from the Chancellery—me—was truly necessary to this extent. Judging by the content, most of it seemed manageable by Ministry of Justice staff alone; the Chancellery would probably only need to do a final confirmation.

I stared at him for a moment and said, “I’m sorry, Supreme Justice, but I don’t think I can help—I don’t have the time.”

He replied calmly, “Alright, then let’s do it the next day.”

“I think it’ll be difficult then, too.”

“Then the day after that.”

“I’m sorry, but that day is difficult as well.”

He hesitated and asked again, “Is that so? Then when do you think you’ll be available?”

I smiled as if making casual conversation and answered, “I think it’ll continue to be difficult from now on.”

“…What?”

The hand flipping through the documents froze. I began tidying papers into neat stacks and said, “Isn’t it abnormal for Chancellery staff to be doing the Ministry of Justice’s tasks every day? It’s interfering with my primary duties. At this rate I’ll have my own desk at the Ministry of Justice.”

For a moment he seemed stunned, not because he couldn’t move but because he hadn’t expected such a direct refusal. Such was the difference in rank.

But since I had helped without complaint until now, I had no intention of backing down.

“Rather than making another team’s staff work overtime like this, it might be better to bring a reliable subordinate into the Ministry of Justice. Unlike the Supreme Justice, you know I value life after work, right?”

“….”

“I’ll still help sometimes. Once a month or so—that’s me being generous. See you tomorrow then.”

I gathered my bag, bowed politely, and left the office. Saying what had been bottled up felt like a relief.

Exiting the building and hurrying toward the main gate, I heard footsteps running up behind me. When I turned, it was the empire’s sole Next Archduke.

“Supreme Justice?”

He kept his lips tightly shut, an expression of disbelief on his face. His usually confident, arrogant gaze wavered like a candle.

“…What will you do after leaving work early?”

His voice sounded forced, like a phrase he’d been holding back.

What will I do after leaving work? Too many things. No matter how sadly he looked at me with that handsome face, it wouldn’t change anything.

Still, we’d grown a certain rapport through our collaborative projects. I offered the easiest excuse with a small grumble.

“I’m going on a date with my boyfriend.”

For some reason the Supreme Justice had no reply. His face seemed to pale.

“…You had a lover? Could it possibly be that guy?”

When his voice finally broke after a long pause, it trembled.

Is it that shocking I’m dating someone? Who is “that guy”—Deputy Commander Girion?

He had someone he liked too, so why was he reacting like this?

He soon corrected himself to avoid needless workplace gossip; he didn’t want to make trouble for someone who’d been polite.

“I’m about to make one. I’ll leave early to do it.”

“Ha.”

The empire’s top catch let out a long sigh. To him, who considered himself the best at everything, my wish might’ve seemed petty.

He kept sweeping his hair back in a crooked posture, then slowly approached. No matter what he said, I had no intention of doing overtime for work unrelated to the Chancellery anymore. My stamina was gone.

Though the moonlight highlighted his bold yet delicate features and drew admiration, I was unmoved. After two months of seeing him, I was somewhat immune. He gently placed both hands on my shoulders as if embracing me. I was slightly surprised but stayed calm.

“I’ll gladly be that lover.”

“…Sorry?”

My mind blanked for a moment.

“I’m saying I’ll be your lover.”

Without meaning to, my poker face collapsed and an unfiltered response burst out.

“Are you crazy?”

Meanwhile the Next Archduke seemed to have fully regained his composure and wore a satisfied smile.

“You said you wanted someone handsome, with a good voice, a great body, tall, capable, wealthy, athletic, faithful, affectionate, healthy, and family-oriented. I don’t think anyone is more suitable than me.”

Those arrogant words tumbled out and my head became a chaos stew. Could he really list off things like that just because he was handsome?

“The Supreme Justice definitely…! Gasp.”

The rumors I’d heard at the TWCR began to click together like puzzle pieces.

So that meant… me?

Heat and shame washed over me. Even so, I couldn’t believe it.

Why me?

I ended up thinking it was absurd—that his response to being denied overtime was to launch a confession.

“Even if you say that, I won’t do overtime. I won’t!”

His confusion melted away and his gaze cleared. He tilted his head back slightly and let out a refreshing sigh.

“You don’t have to do overtime anymore. Now I know.”

He smiled.

“I like you.”