Chapter 7
“It’s okay.”
The words she repeated to herself weren’t meant for him.
They were a desperate attempt to steady her own heart.
He knew that.
Because it was her.
Because she was the one saying it.
And because of that, he could never offer her some hollow comfort.
Without a word, he loosened his stiff posture and gently drew her into his arms.
Then, words she had once murmured in a dream drifted through his memory.
“You know what? They say that just hearing someone else’s heartbeat can calm a person down.
I don’t know if that’s scientifically proven, but… maybe it’s like how even a baby crying as if the world’s ending falls asleep when it hears its parents’ heart beating.
Me? Hmm. I don’t really like being touched by others, though…”
Back then, in that dream, she had been pressed right up against him, not even a sheet of paper between them.
A dream.
He had existed only in her dreams.
So, perhaps that’s why he hadn’t counted as that “someone.”
Still, he wished—he hoped—that even now, he would not be included in that “someone.”
He only wanted his beating heart, loud in his chest, to bring her even the smallest bit of comfort.
Thump.
And again—thump.
His deep, solid heartbeat echoed by her ear, soaking slowly into her chest.
Strangely, or perhaps miraculously, their heartbeats began to synchronize.
Before long, even the rhythm of their breathing matched.
She didn’t push him away.
Eyes closed, she listened to the sound of his heartbeat pounding against his hard chest.
She no longer whispered I’m fine.
Because, for once, she truly was.
It was unclear how long they stayed like that before she finally opened her eyes.
Still nestled in his arms, she tilted her head up slightly and murmured,
“You’re hard.”
“And you’re soft.”
They said it without thinking, describing what they felt as they held each other—then burst into laughter.
Burying her face in the bed, she laughed until her bright red hair spilled messily across the white sheets.
Lying on her stomach, she let out a long sigh.
“Crying, shouting, startling myself, blurting out nonsense from nerves… I really did everything tonight.”
“That wasn’t too different from your usual behavior.”
“Not this bad!”
She pouted, lips sticking out in protest, and he gave her a dry, unimpressed look.
She quickly turned her face away from him.
Acting childish despite her age—it was something that only happened in front of him.
Something that only felt natural when she was with him.
He slipped his hand under her arm and lifted her lightly.
“Your neck will hurt like that.”
“Mm.”
She wriggled and cocooned herself in the blanket.
Bundled up like a caterpillar, she yawned loudly without realizing it.
Her swollen eyelids felt unbearably heavy.
Maybe the alcohol was finally kicking in, or maybe she was just sleepy—either way, she wanted to collapse right there and sleep.
With him beside her, the sensation of endlessly falling into darkness vanished as if it had been a lie.
Of course, just because she felt better didn’t mean the situation itself was solved.
It wasn’t something that could be solved.
She didn’t even know what the real problem was, let alone how to fix it.
And even if time passed, it might still be something she could never resolve on her own.
She nuzzled the side of her head against his palm as he slipped a pillow under it.
“Sleep now.”
The way he said it—tossed out casually, yet so tender—made her smile weakly.
It was just like in her dreams.
“I’ll stay with you.”
The quiet whisper that followed made her giggle outright.
“Who in their right mind calls you a villain or a mastermind?
I’d like to punch that idiot’s mouth and kick their ass while I’m at it.”
“Then I suppose the emperor and crown prince will soon have their asses on fire.”
“Emperor and crown prince. Got it. I’ll remember that—better keep your butts ready!”
Ashili gritted her teeth in mock determination, unnecessarily serious.
He lightly tapped her forehead and murmured again,
“Go to sleep.”
He lay down beside her as she yawned repeatedly.
The bed was large—large enough that even with both of them there, there was still plenty of space left.
Blinking slowly, she suddenly spoke as if remembering something.
“Come to think of it, Ashili?”
“Yes. Ashili.”
“That’s my name, isn’t it?”
Ashili.
She mouthed it silently—it didn’t sound bad.
It was the name he called her by.
The name he had given her.
Truly…
Not bad at all.
“If I’m Ashili…”
She yawned again mid-sentence, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye.
Her voice grew small and drowsy, softer than a whisper.
“Then your name… your name is…”
Through her blurring vision, she saw his face—frowning faintly, smiling that same gentle smile again.
If you’re going to smile like that, she thought hazily, you might as well give that face to me instead…
Her silly thought faded as his low laughter brushed against her ear.
“Ludwig.”
When Ashili fell asleep—almost like she’d passed out—
none of the three aides dared open their mouths.
A silence heavier than any before pressed between them.
Night had deepened past all reason; dawn was drawing near.
The pile of documents awaiting review had grown into a mountain,
but with all of them frozen still as statues, it was clear that finishing tonight’s work on time was impossible.
Hours slipped by, wasted.
Finally, the youngest aide broke the silence.
“Do you think the sun will rise from the west tomorrow?”
“The moon rose from the east just fine tonight. The sun should rise from the east to—”
The middle-aged aide, who normally rebuked every word from the younger one, trailed off mid-sentence.
Because after what they’d just witnessed, he wasn’t so sure about anything anymore.
Wait a second—
“Oh my god, what time is it?”
After sitting in the same position for so long, he jumped to his feet—and promptly stumbled forward.
The young aide, startled, stood up as well—and immediately tripped the same way, landing beside him within seconds.
The eldest aide clicked his tongue as he looked down at the two perfectly aligned heads.
“It’s just past 1 a.m. We’ve been sitting here far too long.”
Though his voice was calm, his fingers nervously twirled a pen.
The other two, hearing the time, silently groaned at the thought of the throbbing pain in their heads—and the mountain of paperwork still waiting for them.
The youngest aide planted his hands on the floor and pushed himself up.
“What on earth just happened?! His Grace, the Grand Duke, was with a—! Mmff, mmmph!”
“Stop shouting like a fool. We all saw it. And my head is pounding.”
The aide beside him clamped a hand over his mouth. The muffled whimper of protest faded into the tense stillness.
Then, the eldest aide spoke in his usual, flat tone.
“His Grace the Grand Duke was… in the bedchamber with a lady.”
Saying it out loud made it sound even less believable.
The pen in his hand began to spin faster and faster.
The Grand Duke. And a woman. In the same bedchamber.
“This has to be a dream!”
“For once since you started working under His Grace, I agree with you.”
“Get a grip. It’s not a dream.”
The eldest aide shot them a sharp look and straightened up, joints cracking loudly.
Groaning, he rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled toward the towering pile of documents.
Reaching the Grand Duke’s desk, he pulled one file from the topmost, highest-priority stack.
List of Candidates for the Grand Duchess Selection Party.
Even an old man with failing eyesight could read the bold title.
“The party’s the day after tomorrow—or rather, tomorrow now, since it’s past one in the morning. This is the guest list of young ladies attending, isn’t it?”
“There were four… no, five whose accommodations weren’t confirmed yet, right?”
The other two aides, dragging their weary bodies over, leaned their chins on the elder’s shoulder and muttered until they fell silent.
Grand Duchess.
The Grand Duke’s future wife.
It was an issue His Grace cared less about than a speck of dust,
so the three of them had struggled endlessly to make this event happen.
They had endured his icy, desert-dry stares through every stage of preparation.
Just remembering the ordeal it took to organize this damned party made their eyes sting with tears.
“This… this party actually happening—it’s ridiculous, isn’t it?!”
The youngest aide’s voice trembled, then rose to a near shout.
“To think His Grace insisted on marrying before the Crown Prince! The Crown Prince, who won’t even marry in the next ten years—!”
“You never know how things might turn out. Especially after what we saw tonight.”
The elder aide cut in quickly before the middle one could get carried away.
But it was no use—the young aide went on, voice full of righteous indignation.
“Why does His Grace have to get married first just to stir the Crown Prince’s nonexistent interest in succession?!”
His voice boomed across the quiet night, echoing in the even quieter study.
The middle-aged aide patted the young one’s shoulder sympathetically, nodding in solidarity.
The eldest aide narrowed his eyes and said in a low voice,
“Just to be clear, what you’ve said is entirely your personal opinion and in no way reflects His Grace’s stance.”
Then, even lower:
“Of course, I wholeheartedly agree with you. That lucky, brainless brat forcing our Duke to play the villain—every single hour of every single day, it makes my blood boil.”
It had been such a ridiculous imperial order, they could still remember it vividly even now.
