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Vespera couldn’t for the life of him identify the feeling. He was simply annoyed by someone loitering around her—Aidan, that Lukan, or whoever else pretending to be friendly with Cornelia.

There were times she acted in ways he couldn’t explain. When his mentor asked whether she had a lover, his ears pricked and he found himself checking whether she fit that criterion. He felt sick when he learned a date invitation had been accepted while he was away at a royal event. He even demanded overtime under the pretense of work cooperation to prevent it.

“I’m insane,” he thought. She highly valued leaving work on time, and though he secretly liked that she was willing to help, this wasn’t right; even he thought it pathetic. He wasn’t in his right mind.

Unable to resolve it himself, he sought help on Those Who Can’t Resign.

Those Who Can’t Resign was mostly a place to unload workplace worries. Someone called Master Quokka listened well and gave precisely tailored advice for any situation, so the forum was trusted.

He’d been shocked by the truth behind the overtime recently, but thanks to it he understood his subordinates much better.

Although this wasn’t strictly a work problem, he thought someone there might understand what he was feeling.

“That feeling you described sounds like romantic feelings,” Master Quokka replied.

His heart dropped. He’d never considered that direction—he wasn’t interested in romance and had no experience with it. In fact, people of the opposite sex often showed interest without effort, which was why he hid his looks when he went out; it was tiresome and had only dampened his curiosity.

Many nobles wanted to link their houses without his seeking them out. In his view, marriage was nothing more and nothing less than a political relationship arranged by one’s family.

So Vespera found Master Quokka’s assessment hard to believe.

“How can you be so sure?” he snapped, but Master Quokka’s reply—almost disdainful—left him deflated.

“Then think about it. Have you ever felt uplifted and happy just talking to that person? Do you find yourself wondering what they’re doing when they’re not around, thinking they’re cute, or feeling suddenly upset and anxious when another man approaches them—have you ever felt any of that?”

It was as if Master Quokka had opened his mind and pinpointed the doubts he hadn’t dared name; he was speechless, unable to deny it. He said he’d think about it, but inwardly he refused to accept it.

He comforted himself that the feeling would quiet down with time.

But he was the type to act quickly.

Before he could sort out his feelings, she methodically countered his work-cooperation excuse and prepared to leave. “Rather than making other teams’ staff work overtime like this, I think it would be better to bring a reliable subordinate into the Ministry of Justice. You know I, unlike the Supreme Justice, consider life after work important now.”

When she greeted and left first, his mind only thought: I mustn’t let her go like this—I have to hold on to her.

He hurried after her and called out. In the dark corridor, the sight of her turning around filled his vision with light. He could only acknowledge it with his heart, not his head.

“…What will you do if you leave early?” he blurted, desperate to hold her a little longer.

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

His stomach plunged. The thought of that other man—the one from the royal gathering—rushed in. He tried to soften his words, but what came out was clumsy and impulsive, the panic making him act before he thought.

“Then I’ll make myself your boyfriend. By leaving early,” he said, the words tumbling out.

It felt like surfacing for air after plunging into deep water. He didn’t expect relief, but there it was: clarity.

“I like you,” he confessed.

She panicked and hurriedly left. Acting so impulsively wasn’t like him, but in that moment he had to speak—it was animal instinct.

He didn’t want to see her suffer for his sake. His feelings were his own, and hers were hers. From what he’d observed—even if unintentionally—he believed she had never considered him as an object of romantic interest.

That flattering face everyone praised felt useless in the end; there wasn’t even a trace of affection in the eyes of the person who mattered. When he received a sign of rejection his heart ached, but he showed as little of it as possible. He understood her; he had fretted over the class gap, but he appreciated that she expressed herself clearly.

I’ll work to get closer from now on.

Everyone had called him a genius since childhood, but much of his success came from a tenacious, persistent nature layered on top of basic talent. If effort is a kind of talent, he was blessed in that regard.

So he intended to wait. He was arrogant, yes, but realistic and strategic. From the moment he realized his feelings, he wouldn’t give up. He had no intention of relinquishing the intense desire to win someone’s heart for the first time. He planned to fend off the men lingering by her side and stay nearby without being overbearing.

I should meet Master Quokka, he decided. She would surely give appropriate advice. Since she’d helped him avoid losing the person he liked in vain, he ordered his butler to prepare a gift to bring.

But he didn’t want to be by her side like that.

Looking at her frozen on the bed, Vespera cursed himself.

You bastard, knowing how crazy he is.

It seemed the Crown Prince was annoyed by Cornelia’s exposure of corruption in the main road construction and her proposal for a noble asset registration system. The Emperor, intending to protect her in his own way, praised her publicly. Vespera and her mentor judged that solidifying her position like this was best, but it had come too late.

When Secretary Lucius told him the Crown Prince had summoned her, his blood ran cold. He pictured the moment she arrived and he had brought the carriage up to her lips.

If it’s too late… he couldn’t bear to imagine it.

He clenched the sheet until it seemed it would tear. Even if she hadn’t been killed, it would certainly have been dangerous. The withered flower confirmed his intuition: the Crown Prince was the sort to play such pranks without a second thought.

And all of it stemmed from his inferiority complex toward Vespera. The work Cornelia had handled brought credit not only to the Chancellery but also to the Ministry of Justice, which Vespera headed.

If he finds out I confessed, it’ll get even more dangerous.

She was the first person he’d loved. Looking at her like this, he wondered if he could ever give up. Could he pretend not to care, feign indifference, or act oblivious even when she said she was scared of coming out to the terrace at midnight—would he let the Crown Prince test that?

Obviously not. I’ll go crazy and head out.

He snorted at how predictable his own actions would be. There was only one choice he could make.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

I won’t run away, and I won’t let her run away either. That was all.

As soon as I returned, I ate a quick dinner, told them I was tired and going to bed early, and went up to my room.

Thud.

No sooner had the door closed than I sank down a few steps from exhaustion. The events of the past few days had overwhelmed me.

Just when I thought things had settled, another incident happened; when I thought it was okay, yet another. I barely steadied myself and tried to steel my resolve, but learning the identity of the person I’d been curious about pushed me to my limit.

Since when? Where? How? Did he know me from the start? Did he know everything?

Questions nested one after another. He wouldn’t have planned a calculated approach toward some country girl whose name he didn’t even know. It must have been a series of coincidences that led to now.

But if this was the beginning, the Duke’s feelings might be larger than I’d imagined.

I’m not a fool. And I know that I currently feel rational affection toward the Duke.

“But all of that… what good does it do…?” I asked the empty room.

When I raised my head, the full-length mirror beside the bed reflected me: a look of despair and misery.

A cute woman with black hair streaked with brown, snow-white and gaunt. A face I’d grown used to but had never thought of as mine. A body whose original soul had departed.

Sob. Sob…

Tears I’d been holding back burst forth like a dam breaking.

A life in this body with no promise of duration. It could return at any time, or perhaps slip into another body. I didn’t want to be hurt or to give love that would be taken away. I didn’t want to create close relationships; I knew too well how those left behind would feel.

But perhaps because I had been lonely in my previous life, I couldn’t refuse the affection offered. Cautiously, people who opened their hearts to me even a little began to appear.

Just when I wondered if that was okay, the Duke confessed—very sincerely.

I couldn’t answer him.

Because it’s false from the shell outward.

I couldn’t say I liked him.

Because I don’t know when I’ll disappear.

So must I live like this forever?

Things I had taken for granted became terrifying when they confronted me. If the original soul returned to this body, what would they think? Would they be unaffected?

I hated this and I hated that.

What would become of me next? It was a string of unanswered questions.

I could do nothing but sob quietly.

“Coco, are you okay? Why are you crying?” Aidan’s voice came.

When had he come in? I didn’t want to answer.

“If you cry that sadly, I want to cry too. Won’t you tell me what’s hard?”

After a long while I could barely speak.

“Just… life, living, it’s hard.”

He reached toward the door briefly, then lowered his hand and said, “No one can come in. Cry. Coco.”

As if that were the signal, I cried my heart out, and Aidan no longer asked questions and simply patted me.