Chapter 15
“Roy, are you done yet?”
“Ah—j-just a moment! I’m picking three books to read in the carriage!”
Startled, I yelped and shoved Altair’s letter deep into my pocket, then quickly stuffed my own letter between the shelves. Glancing at Tessarion, I bowed slightly as if to apologize and placed the Astronavigation book back where it had been. Then I grabbed the nearest book and opened it, flipping through the pages to make it look like I was browsing. I sneaked another glance at Tessarion.
Tsk. Tessarion clicked his tongue and frowned.
I better hurry.
I lowered my eyes to the book I was holding—and froze.
“…!”
An illustration of entangled bodies. Beside it, suggestive poetry. And next to that—two men wrapped around each other…
Pfft—cough, cough!
W-what the hell is this?!
My face burned red. I quickly slammed the book shut and looked at the cover.
The title, faint on its tattered leather surface, read: “101 Erotic Positions for Excellent Offspring.”
Why was this kind of explicit book in the sacred Claremont library? Was it some sort of secret Claremont family heirloom on… bedroom techniques?
I peeked over at Tessarion while hiding my mouth. The romantic fantasy male lead stood at the library entrance with his arms crossed, glaring at me with an aura as oppressive as a guillotine.
“…Heheh.”
A wicked idea popped into my head.
Someone once told me—
Male leads in romance novels, once they’ve “done it,” just keep going for days like tireless beasts.
I don’t remember if it was a girl friend or my mom’s daughter (??), but she said it while pointing at a sub-male lead with soft, deer-like eyes, drooling over his maternal appeal.
—
“Him too?”
—
The girl scoffed and, mid-beer sip, raised an eyebrow.
—
“Of course. Virility is the minimum requirement for male leads. Even the ones who look weak have chiseled abs and superhuman stamina once their shirts come off. But obviously, they can’t compare to the main guy.”
—
Suddenly I had heartburn.
Anyway, a male lead bursting with yang energy, sparring morning and night—surely that was sexual frustration manifesting physically.
I mean, sure, men who are close might bathe together, maybe even share a bathroom… but even close friends don’t help each other with that.
“……”
The image of sharing a bed with him flashed through my mind and sent blood rushing to my cheeks.
I-it would be hard.
It must be hard.
For him. Alone.
I wiped my heated face and took a deep breath. Think good thoughts. Clean, wholesome thoughts. My cozy room, steaming hot meals, the game console I just bought… even if I barely remember any of it!
Focus, Kim Roy.
…Well, I’m not even sure if my last name is Kim. But still! To reach the true ending of this story, I needed to break free of Tessarion ASAP. Why the hell was I sleeping in his bed when the female lead was on her way?
Lately, the looks I’d been getting from the old steward and others were weird. Not the kind reserved for lazy freeloaders—but the kind people gave to degenerates.
I had to stop Tessarion before gossip turned ugly. What if the princess got the wrong idea?
I’m the sub-male lead! I’m supposed to be the loyal knight attending Princess Berieta, dammit!
I steeled myself and tucked “101 Erotic Positions” into my coat. Then, after asking a librarian, I picked two romance novels currently popular with noble ladies, and a poetry collection supposedly good for flirting.
Before meeting Princess Berieta, I’d emotionally charge the male lead with romance—then talk with him deeply about love.
Plan A: provoke natural desire to love and be loved. If that failed? Move to Plan B: charm magic.
Wow. I’m being so genre-faithful and thematically consistent. I’m amazing. I’m proud of me. This time, I might actually go home.
Feeling lighter, I walked toward the male lead. Tessarion glanced at the books I brought and tilted his head.
“Not magic books, huh.”
“No. Have you read Laureline on the Hill? I heard it’s so famous it was adapted into an opera in the capital. People say it’s incredibly moving.”
“I was busy bleeding in the trenches last month, so no.”
“Then how about reading it with me now?”
“……”
Tessarion’s reaction was cold. I cleared my throat and opened the novel to the first page.
—
“On a bright moonlit night, Laureline Daph could not sleep. The wedding gown and veil in the corner of the room looked pale, like a burial shroud. The date had finally been set. Her mother said love didn’t matter in marriage—but isn’t that what makes it truly tragic? How could she love a man she’d never met, while another already occupied her heart?”
—
I read with passion and emotion. Tessarion stared at me with glazed-over eyes, then shook his head and walked right past.
“…So what?”
Hey! I’m reading peak romance fantasy here!
Listen and feel, dammit! If you’re a male lead in a romance fantasy, at least show some emotional intelligence! Pay attention!
—
“‘Laureline…’ A familiar voice called her name. She flung the window open and clutched her aching chest. In the shimmering moonlight stood her beloved. Laureline cried out, ‘Ah! Clovens!’”
—
I forced out a voice trembling with emotion, even though I felt like crawling into a hole.
“……”
Tessarion just looked down at me with a deadpan face. I blinked, tilting my head. Omo, perched on my head, also chirped in.
Tweet?
Sigh. Tessarion widened his stride, clearly annoyed. I bit my lip to keep from laughing and called after him with even more pathos:
—
“‘Why did you only appear now?! Was I just a passing spring breeze to you?’”
—
I practically sprinted to block his path, reading the next line. Tessarion waved me off like swatting a fly. I sidestepped with uncanny reflexes and stood in his way again.
—
“Clovens’ throat burned with the flames of longing. Would Laureline’s tears quench him? He climbed the vines to her chamber… Holy sh—next page.”
—
“Roy.”
“Your Grace! This scoundrel just crept into the bedchamber of a bride-to-be like a filthy rat! Clovens must be the sub-male lead. What kind of real male lead would pull a stunt like that, right? Right, Your Grace?”
“……”
“I knew it! You think so too, don’t you? I bet the real male lead is her fiancé.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“If Your Grace says nothing for five seconds, that counts as agreement.”
“What?”
Tessarion scrunched his brow and raised an eyebrow.
“Because if you disapprove of something, you always say it right away. No hesitation.”
I licked my finger and turned the page.
By the time we reached the dining hall, I’d circled around Tessarion reading ten pages. Though he looked thoroughly annoyed and exasperated, he never told me to stop.
As the food began to arrive, the story reached its climax.
—
“Through his fading vision, Clovens saw the face of the woman he had longed for. ‘Ah… Laureline. My heart…!’”
“Roy. Ah.”
“Ah… cough. ‘How can I die and leave you be…’”
“Eat first, then read.”
“Yes, sir.”
