Noah’s hand trembled slightly as it stroked Rosé. Rosé instantly understood: once again, Noah was struggling to contain his anger.
Rosé’s thought: “Oh, come on! Someone stop touching Noah already!”
As a mother who’d crossed continents and driven off a crown prince to protect her son, respect might be due. Still…
Rosé’s thought: “Seriously, enough already.”
Ever since Noah ascended the throne, Melissa’s interference had crossed every possible line.
Draped in countless heavy jewels, Melissa glowered at Rosé.
Rosé’s thought: “She may be his mother, but hands off my butler!”
Melissa snapped, irritated: “You look down at him just for touching a cat?”
Noah—eyes narrowed in warning—wasn’t the only one bristling. The insult hit home.
Melissa continued, furious: “You’ve pigged out, haven’t you?”
When she finished, she shifted her glare from Noah to Rosé, as though the cat were entirely to blame.
Rosé’s thought: “Can’t she see a little extra fluff is cute on a cat? You don’t get it, do you?”
With pride, Rosé stuck out the chubby belly—cats only get cuter with a few extra pounds, and Noah clearly agreed.
Melissa returned to the attack: “You weren’t supposed to keep it. I heard lightning struck the five-hundred-year-old lindentree—symbol of the Karalain Empire—and rumor says that cat was resting there when the strike fell. It survived by sheer luck? It should’ve died.”
Rosé’s thought: “How dare her say that!”
Her expression as graceful as Noah’s, Melissa voiced more insults: “Watch your tongue.”
Noah sharply replied: “A cat understands more than you think, Empress! Your son’s cat—that isn’t a toy!”
Rosé rallied in her own defense: this was no time for squabbles over a cat.
The thunder of Melissa’s anger and the tension had distracted Rosé—suddenly remembering the novel’s plot: Noah had now been emperor for two years.
Rosé’s thought: “Two years in, spring comes, the original protagonists arrive… and Noah loses his throne!”
Her mind raced: “If Noah falls… what happens to me?”
There was no time to marvel at having such a devoted butler. If Noah is dethroned—or worse… *
Rosé shivered at the memory of hostile stares she endured upon arriving at the palace a month ago, the rumors of his red eyes stirring death prophecy. That month was sheer luck.
Again, Melissa pressed: “I’ve told you before: if you can’t part with that cat, you’d better take a new Empress! Otherwise I’ll never leave Waist behind.”
Noah retorted: “Stop there, Mother. Even a mute animal senses dislike—your disdain speaks louder than words.”
Melissa scoffed again before storming off. But the tense energy around Noah lingered.
Anxious, Rosé licked Noah’s hand; his breathing eased noticeably.
Rosé’s thought: “Right. I recall: novel described he loved his cats like his own breath.”
Regardless of the novel’s lack of detail, his affection was as clear as day now. That fragile cat was his only safe haven in the cold palace.
“Calming his heart with a cat,” thought Rosé. She resolved: “So this is where I intervene.”
Later, during dinner…
Back from a long midday nap in the garden, Rosé sat before nightly beef, recollecting the novel’s plot:
The villains—Noah’s mother and the wicked woman who appeared each spring—rose during his second year as emperor. He became a tyrant and was overthrown in the spring.
Rosé thought: “They made him a tyrant, but I can reverse that before the villains appear. I can keep him good.”
Rosé planned to prevent his downfall by carefully managing his image. Rather than battling unknown future forces, she’d focus on what she could change now: help Noah become a beloved ruler.
The last revelation came from overhearing the maids: “Rosé doesn’t want beef for breakfast and dinner—must be bored of the menu.”
She saw her chance: a small detail, but enough to nudge change and curry favor—with beef, the beloved emperor, and saving both him and her own fate.
