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Chapter 48 "Wow...! Dale!!!" Enya gasped in admiration, clapping her hands excitedly. She fanned her flushed face as if trying to cool it down, continuing to marvel. Her expression was so animated she looked ready to bounce right out of her seat. "You must have experienced quite the first love!" "..." "Wow, wow, wow! When you say 'you,' it sounds like you're talking to me, and I almost got swept away!" "..." "You're still thinking about that person, aren't you?!" As Enya expressed her genuine delight and curiosity, Dale fell silent, caught off guard. He hadn't anticipated this reaction. ‌‌‌‌Enya always managed to surprise him. ‌‌‌No, he needed to clarify. It wasn't what she thought. There ‌‌‌had been a misunderstanding between them from the very beginning. Then Enya's fragrance drew closer. She ‌‌‌leaned in with an excited expression, pressing ‌herself near. Her ‌‌eyes sparkled like someone captivated by a fascinating story. "This is about ‌‌‌Dale's love life, right? Somehow, I never thought a man as kind and handsome as you would have no dating experience. It seems like you experienced quite a deep love!" "Miss Enya, that's not—" "I absolutely love romance novels!" "..." "Oh... sorry. I shouldn't be talking about myself. What were you trying to say? Was this about unrequited love?" As Enya's expression fell, her hand pressed to her chest where her heart had been racing just moments before, ‌‌‌Dale's mind went blank. Dale hesitated, then let out a troubled sigh. This couldn't continue like this. ‌‌‌"I..." Dale ‌‌looked at her seriously. "I actually..." Enya's eyes began to gleam with renewed brightness. She was holding tremendous anticipation for what he would say. Even so, now was the time— "...read it in a book." "Oh! A book! So you saw it in a book? Wow, I thought it was something you actually experienced." Dale couldn't resist Enya's sparkling eyes. Contrary to expectations, Enya seemed pleased with his answer. Her eyes, which ‌‌‌had appeared somewhat drowsy before, widened with renewed vitality. "But something like that wouldn't be in the history books ‌or economics ‌‌texts on Dale's bookshelf. Do you like poetry or novels? ‌‌Did you perhaps read romance novels?" "...Yes." Dale, his mind adrift, began answering carelessly. The disjointed conversation was connecting in bizarre ways. Dale suddenly realized this was what it felt like to want ‌‌‌to cry. "Really? I absolutely love romance novels ‌‌too. I've been reading them consistently since my previous life—well, even before that. What's the work that made the deepest impression on Dale?" "I..." This was ‌‌‌‌more difficult than when he first ascended to ‌the throne and faced the onslaught of the nobility. Dale had never encountered such a problem in his entire life. It was a question whose ‌‍‌answer he couldn't even deduce. He didn't know what the titles ‌‌‌of romance novels looked like. What format they took, what important elements they contained. He had already investigated that Enya enjoyed reading romance novels. But since he considered it an unimportant detail, he hadn't bothered to memorize the titles of the works she preferred. Then a light flickered in Dale's mind. One of his aides was an avid reader of romance novels. One day his eyes were so swollen that Dale looked at him, only to discover he kept the novel carefully stored in his bag. From what little he'd glimpsed of the title, it seemed like a work that required considerable philosophical reflection. The title ‌‌‌of that work was probably... "Why Did Lady Brittany Give Meat Only to the Stable Master James?" In that instant, Enya's expression turned sour. "...Really?" * * * "Hey, Getty." "What is it, Team Leader Soho?" "Be careful for a while. The Emperor ‌is trying to kill you." Getty, who had been enjoying ‌‌chocolate pastries on ‌‌‌‌the balcony with a colleague, spat out the madeleine he was eating. "Me? I didn't interfere with The Emperor and Adeline's love like you did, and ‌‌I'm a capable person who prepared the right path with my outstanding intellect. You must have confused me with someone else. You've been ‌‌‌‌forgetful lately because of stress, Team Leader." "Well, even if The Emperor doesn't step in, you're so rude that you'd get murdered by anyone. I forgot about that." "Then the ‌‌‌culprit must be you, Team Leader." Getty was also an aide belonging to Zeta Team, one of the two advisory teams. Zeta Team primarily managed The Emperor's private affairs. A team that constructed The Emperor's external image that shouldn't be ‌‌‌publicly known, elevated his dignity to make him unapproachable, and created the image implanted in the minds of the Empire's citizens. They were the closest ‌to him as a human being rather than as The Emperor, but not close enough to engage in trivial conversations like such grand words suggested. While Beta Team primarily assisted with duties as The Emperor, Zeta Team handled classified operations and alleviated his personal inconveniences. All of them took great pride in the fact that they were a select few personally chosen by The Emperor. Getty, the son of a house that Dale himself had restored, felt this especially keenly. "But hasn't the taste of the dessert ‌‌‌‌‌changed? It's become less delicious." Getty muttered while brushing off the fallen madeleine and eating it. Soho, his team leader, looked at him as if it were routine. "I sent the head ‌‌pastry chef to Grunvalt. I admit his palate is quite particular." "Is that so? Because Adeline wanted it?" "I don't know." Soho spoke while gazing at the office with its windows sealed dark. "The work is taking longer than the initial plan." "That's what happens when the first button is fastened wrong." Boom! Soho barely suppressed his irritation as he piled a stack of documents onto his troublesome subordinate's ‌head. "Since you're so capable, why don't you handle this too? ‌His Majesty asked me what a romance novel is. That's your specialty, isn't it?" "I do pride myself on my extensive reading and erudition. But if it concerns romance ‌‌‌novels, this must be related to Adeline." "Well...." "I'm not asking for a response. I already know. Just offer some supportive commentary. The only thing that could possibly disturb His Majesty ‌‌‌‌is Adeline." ‌‌"So...." ‌"Yes, I said I ‌‌‌‌already know." Getty finished his now-flavorless snack and wandered off toward the Advisor's office with a listless gait. Lately, no matter ‌‌how much he ate, he felt perpetually hungry and exhausted. He slept ‌‌‌‌and slept, yet the fatigue never lifted—he ‌‌‌couldn't ‌fathom why. Perhaps it was because His Majesty was making such a mess of his ‌‌‌‌romantic endeavors. 'The life of a capable aide is truly arduous.' Getty massaged his shoulders, offering himself sympathy for his pitiful circumstances. "Would a reading reflection suffice? Or should ‌‌‌I write an essay instead?" "You ‌really are something...sigh. You're capable of conversing with Adeline about romance novels as a topic. Just summarize the key points. About twenty works should be sufficient for now." "Yes, yes." ‌‌‌Getty yawned and returned to his desk. Left alone on the balcony, Soho watched his subordinate's retreating figure and clutched his head. Merely seeing Getty brought on a throbbing headache. ‌‌‌‌"That fool's going to meet ‌his reckoning one day." Soho offered a sincere prayer. He fervently wished that Getty would one day cross the wrong person and face severe consequences—he whispered this earnest desire in a small voice that belied his imposing frame. "Let him get what's coming to him." * * * "Has ‌‌‌Dale read that book too?" I lay sprawled across the reception room sofa, swinging my feet idly. With all the furniture finally in place, the house felt warm and inviting. The larger sofa I'd claimed occupied one end, and across the table sat Dale in his characteristically perfect posture. Dale always maintained impeccable ‌‌composure, never slouching—whereas I was perpetually draped across furniture or sprawled flat. The reception room table held the tea Dale had brewed and cookies the neighborhood ladies had gifted us. As expected, the people from the territory had visited to tour our new home. I was glad we'd decided on ‌‌just one bedroom. The elderly visitors had remarked how perfect the remaining empty room would be as a nursery. In any case, our plan was progressing smoothly. Just like now—holding a novel discussion group with Dale while living peacefully. It was perfect. "The ending of 【The Duke's Proposal】 was truly tragic. ‌‌‌The male lead dies in the end, doesn't he? What did you think, Dale? Wasn't it?" "I...." Dale opened his mouth after careful consideration. "Since he chose death for the female lead, I wouldn't call it a ‌‌‌‌bad ending." "Even though they couldn't be together?" "Being together isn't the only path to happiness, is it?" "Is that so?" I couldn't agree with Dale's perspective. I was a happy-ending person, after ‌‌‌‌all. But there was merit to Dale's thinking. I didn't know what kind of love Dale had experienced, but I was certain he would love tenderly. "That's an answer that makes sense coming from Dale." "...From me?" "You're so kind to your partner. You treat me this well, so imagine how tender you'd be with an actual lover." "...." "I can't imagine it, ‌‌‌‌but anyway, that's what I think." Dale's response ‌‌never came. When I glanced over, he was quietly watching me. "Oh. I've pried into your personal life too much, haven't I?" "...." "My absolute favorite is this book." I pulled out the volume whose cover I'd read until it faded and worn. The faded brown paper cover bore an illustration, but it had deteriorated so much that half of it had vanished. The book's title was 【Lover of the Night】.

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