* * *
Suddenly, I felt embarrassed.
Like a child whose childish wish had been found out.
Ateol’s hand slipped under my clothes.
I caught his wrist and pushed him away, shaking my head.
He obediently withdrew his hand and looked at me.
“I don’t want to.”
“Hm.”
“If I say no, will you actually listen?”
Ateol let out a soft chuckle.
“Of course. I’m starting to wonder what kind of person you think I am.”
“What kind—! Think about all the things you’ve done to me until now!”
“Well… from my perspective, they were appropriate expressions of affection.”
“What part of that was appropriate?!”
Thinking back to what Ateol had done to me in bed… well, actually… maybe it hadn’t been that forceful after all.
Feeling like I might have unfairly misjudged him, my face flushed red.
But Ateol said nothing more and stepped back.
“I’ll be going for today.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’ll tell your attendant that you don’t seem to be in good condition and to check on you often.”
I was fine.
My thoughts were just tangled.
Granted, when my thoughts get tangled, it often shows up in my body.
And Ateol really did stand up, straighten his clothes, bow politely, and leave.
[Event Failed……]
Can’t you trust Ateol?
…Half the reason I couldn’t trust Ateol was because of this damn status window.
I’d decided to ignore everything else and just trust the status window.
But come on—how could anyone do that?
Of course what he does seems suspicious.
Why is this thing trying to push me into Ateol’s arms?
Because I’m not the protagonist!
Eyes that say they want to melt in.
I felt deflated.
Ateol had seen right through me.
I did want to melt in.
Into Ateol’s world.
Ateol walked heavily down the long corridor.
At his toes, a winding staircase appeared, leading to the very bottom of the tower.
The stairs.
His words from that time really had been apt.
Like standing just one step from the destination after climbing thousands—yet no matter what, unable to take that final step.
That’s how he felt whenever he saw Yuri.
That suffocating, inexplicable frustration always lodged itself in his throat.
He was certain: just one more step, and a breathtaking view, untold riches, or an irreplaceable treasure lay ahead.
Yet he couldn’t step forward.
Something was missing.
His thoughts had changed from, “Not bad,” to “Rather cute,” and then kept growing from there.
Once you notice someone, feelings grow steadily, almost naturally turning into affection.
But there was something strange.
He kept dreaming about Yuri.
Endless dreams.
Dreams that didn’t feel like dreams at all, but another reality he visited whenever he closed his eyes, only to return to this one.
And in those dreams… he shared a daily life with Yuri.
But it was very different from the one they had now.
In the dreams, they were closer, sweeter.
Yuri was more relaxed, yielded to him more, and even acted spoiled at times.
He did the same.
In those dreams, they were like long-time lovers.
“Did he say he lost his memories?”
That seemed true.
Yuri really didn’t remember anything from long ago—like he’d read it from a book, just fragments of knowledge.
Then maybe the dreams were Yuri’s old memories.
Memories from a time he spent with someone else—someone who resembled Ateol.
That thought twisted something in him.
But Yuri also said that it wasn’t memory loss—he never had those memories to begin with.
That he wasn’t the real Yuri.
Yuri believed Siwoo was the “true master of the tower,” and that one day, when Siwoo regained his power, he’d come to erase him.
That fear had consumed him.
It didn’t seem like a lie—any more than the memory-loss claim did.
Then why? Who would do such a thing?
And if someone really could steal the tower master’s magic completely, wouldn’t that person be the rightful new tower master?
Why should a master who lost their power still be needed—by the nation, by the continent?
Even if he reclaimed it, what guarantee was there he wouldn’t lose it again?
And yet, watching Yuri use that as an excuse to keep running away filled Ateol with growing anxiety and anger.
Every time Yuri fled, Ateol searched desperately.
If Yuri ever found out the lengths he’d gone to, he would be horrified.
But Ateol couldn’t let him go.
Just thinking about Yuri made him impatient and impulsive.
He’d always had a reckless side.
Even when he was supposed to keep his head down, he’d occasionally cause trouble.
He praised himself for not crossing the line.
But with Yuri, he couldn’t hold that line.
If the dreams really were Yuri’s memories… then what if those sweet, blissful moments were with someone else?
Ha.
A hollow laugh escaped him as he stepped forward.
The world seemed to ripple for a moment—then he found himself on the last step at the entrance of the tower.
The guards and attendants bowed deeply at the sight of Ateol.
He looked up.
Just moments ago, he had descended from the top floor in a single breath, and it left him feeling strangely exiled.
It must’ve been because of Yuri’s attitude earlier—and the storm in his own mind.
With his cloak flaring behind him, Ateol turned and walked out of the tower entrance again.
In a flash, he passed through the maze and arrived at the place where the carriage waited.
He looked up again.
Yuri’s room was so high, half-hidden behind the clouds.
Now it felt impossibly distant, but that day—it had felt bizarrely close.
The day Yuri leapt toward him from that very place.
That day, how much…
“Your Highness.”
As the memory surfaced, Lessa called out to him.
Turning his gaze, she instantly sensed the chill radiating from her liege and stepped back as she spoke.
“Siwoo has been detained at the Imperial Library.”
“For what?”
“He apparently tried to remove a forbidden book.”
Ateol’s brow furrowed.
“A forbidden book?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I’m going to the Imperial Library.”
The carriage immediately turned toward the library.
Not, of course, to offer help.
Even from inside the carriage, the commotion at the library was evident.
And the moment Ateol stepped out, the noise doubled.
Even the most well-trained knights were clearly flustered by the Emperor’s sudden arrival.
“Where is Siwoo?”
“A-ah…”
Siwoo, previously hidden among the guards, timidly raised his hand.
Ateol’s gaze shifted toward him.
Siwoo’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, as if expecting something. It was absurd.
From the start, Ateol had disliked Siwoo.
Yuri said they looked exactly alike—but really?
Their features and build were similar, yes.
In appearance, it was true they resembled each other.
But in every other way, they were utterly different—from the atmosphere they exuded to the look in their eyes.
Siwoo lacked manners, was foolish, and acted without thinking.
If this was truly the Tower Master, then it was better to have none at all.
Still… it was puzzling.
He generally disliked people like Siwoo, but he’d never felt outright disgust like this before.
Even now, the way Siwoo looked up at him stirred a wave of revulsion.
That expression—as if he’d just found a lifeline.
‘What the hell is he expecting?’
Did he think Ateol was here to rescue him?
What a laughable delusion.
The very idea that Siwoo could be so mistaken was infuriating.
Ateol turned to the guard.
“What book was he trying to take?”
“This one, Your Highness.”
The guard respectfully handed over the book.
* * *
