Chapter 11.
1. Becoming the Villain’s Secretary (11)
Unfortunately, the brothers’ barrage of questions didn’t end with lunch break.
“Hey, didn’t you say during work hours, we should work!?”
When I finally exploded and yelled, the brothers flinched and leaned back like startled cats.
“I already finished today’s assignments though.”
“I can only work once my secretary reviews my approvals.”
“Then please shut— I mean, please sit quietly so I can give His Majesty work.”
I almost told them to shut up.
Phew. Good job not saying it. I deserve a medal.
The brothers exchanged a glance, and then Helwid cleared his throat.
“Working nonstop must be tiring.”
…And what kind of nonsense is coming this time?
“So you should take a short break.”
“…Your Majesty. Seriously, what is wrong with you today?”
Helwid smiled softly, leaned close to my ear, and whispered.
“I realized that instead of being tense all the time, building trust with the Crown Prince is more efficient.”
“Well… that’s true, but…”
“So I’ll be counting on you.”
Indellis rolled his eyes as if asking what Helwid meant, but Helwid simply waved it off and stepped back.
Then he covered his lower face with his hand and mouthed silently:
“I’d rather not bother a busy person, but I have no choice.”
He sure looked like he was enjoying this way too much though… hmm.
I quickly ran the calculations inside my head.
In the original story, the Crown Prince overthrows the emperor—driven mad by Gloomi—and becomes emperor himself.
I’m stuck as the emperor’s personal secretary. Quitting seems nearly impossible.
If the emperor meets Gloomi and goes insane, and the Crown Prince stages a coup like in the original plot…
as the emperor’s secretary, I’ll be dead.
One good thing: at this point in the timeline, the Crown Prince seems open to mending his relationship with Helwid.
So, what should I choose to survive—quietly and for a long time?
Obviously, I need to help the emperor and the prince become friends, and prevent the coup altogether.
Once I made up my mind, I put down my pen.
“…Fine. Just for today.”
“Yay!”
“As expected of my secretary. Quick-witted.”
Indellis was genuinely happy. Helwid… definitely had ulterior motives.
“So? Ask whatever you want.”
And thus began the Legal Salary Leeching Q&A session.
“What’s your favorite food?”
“What’s your least favorite food?”
“I told you, I don’t really dislike anything. Next.”
And it was true—I wasn’t picky about food. Personal preference aside.
“Favorite dessert?”
“Favorite tea?”
“I eat anything. Lately, I only drink the coffee His Majesty brews for me. Next.”
“What field of study interests you?”
“I used to like astronomy. Next.”
“What do you do on your days off?”
“Roll around in bed without thinking. Next.”
“Any hobbies?”
“I used to like reading, but these days I just sleep whenever I can. Next.”
The questions were basic, but endless. To satisfy them, my mouth couldn’t stop moving.
Rapid-fire Q&A.
After ten minutes of questions and answers, my throat was dry.
“Wait. I need a drink… let’s drink something while we talk.”
“My secretary enjoys the coffee I brew these days. Therefore, I shall personally brew another one.”
Helwid looked way too pleased with himself as he prepared coffee.
Indellis was too young for coffee, so he got a grape ade.
When I took a whiff of the coffee Helwid brewed, the two exchanged glances again.
Now what?
Indellis cleared his throat.
“Then… what’s your ideal type?”
“…Why?”
“Well, when chatting, nothing beats talking about the opposite sex.”
“We were chatting?”
I stared at them in disbelief. Helwid waved dismissively, as if saying to overlook the little things.
Little things? YOU nitpick every tiny detail.
Anyway—ideal type?
Suddenly, chills ran down my spine. My ancestors were signaling a 64-bit RED ALERT.
I took a sip of coffee with refined elegance.
“Someone who eats well, I guess?”
When the question feels dangerous, answer generically.
But the brothers’ reactions were absurd.
“Oh, I’m hungry. Maybe I should eat this paper.”
“I’m feeling peckish. Perhaps I’ll snack on this napkin.”
And they started tearing paper and napkins into bite-size pieces.
“No— I didn’t mean goats! I still prefer humans.”
“A person who eats anything would eat napkins too. Not that I do, of course.”
“Right, someone who eats everything occasionally snacks on paper. Not that I do.”
Helwid smiled and pretended he was really going to eat the napkin. Indellis mimicked him.
Have they lost their minds!? They barely ate lunch!
I shot up from my chair, snatched the paper and napkins away.
“Ever heard of joking? JOKING?”
“Oh, that was a joke? I was sincere.”
“I was answering sincerely too. Therefore, you should respond sincerely.”
Helwid drooped his eyebrows pitifully, while Indellis scolded me sternly.
Something is very wrong.
As I sighed, Indellis asked:
“Then what else is your ideal type?”
“Another ideal type? Uh… uh…”
What can I say to stop them from being insane?
I looked between the two, then suddenly—brilliant enlightenment.
“My ideal type is someone with a C-cup or larger.”
At least that eliminates you.
I smirked confidently.
“C–C cup?”
Indellis grabbed his own chest, looking defeated. Just as expected.
But then—
“Bring a measuring tape.”
“…What?”
“Bras can be adjusted by band size. It’s convertible.”
Helwid had a servant bring a tape measure and measured his chest right in front of me.
Sir. Your imperial dignity is GONE.
“What use is flaunting anything less in front of my secretary?”
Helwid smiled dazzlingly as he showed the numbers: 40 inches.
Around 101.6 cm.
“A C-cup conversion. Valid, isn’t it?”
Snap— the tape folded shut.
My knees buckled.
“I brew the coffee you love, I eat well, and I have a chest size over C-cup.
Therefore… I must be your ideal type.”
Helwid looked outrageously pleased with himself.
Meanwhile, Indellis puffed his cheeks, insisting he just hadn’t grown yet.
This was a total disaster.
“No! This is fraud! That’s not chest—just thick muscle!”
“I may sit here and work with you now, but I’m quite physically capable. If you’d like, you may touch.”
Helwid smiled kindly and moved as if about to remove his clothes.
“Touching over the clothes wouldn’t feel right.”
“A–ARE YOU INSANE?!”
I was dying of embarrassment.
Indellis muttered from the side, sulking.
“This doesn’t apply to me…”
Since when was my ideal type a competition?!
I cut it off coldly.
“Any more ideal type answers are paid content.”
“Paid…?”
And of course, Helwid reacted weirdly again.
“How much?”
He smiled lazily, as if asking whether I dared charge the emperor.
Oh god. I forgot for a moment because he was measuring his chest—
He’s the emperor. The wealthiest person in the empire.
My brain sped up.
“O… Oh… the diamond mine on Mount Tilen?”
The second-largest diamond mine in the empire.
A massive, national asset.
“…And I just casually suggested it.”
“Alright.”
“…Huh?”
“From this moment on, the Tilen diamond mine belongs to my secretary.”
“…Excuse me? A–are you insane?”
A nationalized mine. A resource that by law cannot belong to a private citizen.
Just… handed to me?
Seeing me in shock, he smiled gently.
“We’ll call it a reward for catching the intruder.”
No, no, no— even so, a mine that enormous—
“So. What’s your next ideal type?”
I saw it then, in those dark villainous eyes—the silent message:
“I paid a high price. Now give me value.”
Ancestors… you were warning me…
I considered 23 possible ways to stop Indellis from causing a scene and finally said:
“…I suppose… Your Majesty is my ideal type.”
