* * *
There was a strange sense of déjà vu—until he realized it was something he’d read before.
It was the scene that took place a month after the victory banquet in Epentel.
Eren, unable to endure one of the sub-male leads’ sadistic sexual tendencies any longer, had secretly run away.
Having already suffered greatly, Eren ran nonstop until he reached the city.
There, he was nearly hit by a carriage and came close to being assaulted by drunken men.
He barely managed to escape, ending up in a secluded alley.
And there, he witnessed a flickering lantern on the verge of going out.
Just like now.
When the lantern went out in the original story, he would be found again by the sub-male lead and dragged back into that sadistic relationship.
If this sense of déjà vu was from the original plot—if nothing had changed…
His heart sank like a stone.
He desperately hoped it wasn’t the case, but the growing unease was unstoppable.
As anxious thoughts consumed him, his body froze, unable to move.
He should’ve run to another place to calm himself, but as if something was holding him in place, his legs wouldn’t move.
Eren prayed with all his heart that the lantern wouldn’t go out.
If it stayed lit, then maybe this fear was all for nothing—something he could just brush off.
There was no wind.
Yet, the lantern swayed.
Unable to bear the sight, he shut his eyes tightly.
And then—someone suddenly embraced him, startling him enough that he instinctively shoved the person away.
But they didn’t budge an inch.
“…Huh?”
Even before he opened his eyes, he felt a gentle touch.
Then came a familiar scent—one that had become somewhat recognizable.
Realizing the person before him was Ashard, tears welled up in Eren’s eyes.
“Your Grace…?”
His voice cracked.
Eren’s trembling voice barely managed to call out to him.
Holding back the tears that had filled his eyes, Eren urgently wrapped his arms around Ashard’s neck.
Their height difference was such that he could barely reach, even on his tiptoes, but Ashard bent down.
The warmth he felt from their embrace made it all feel real, and Eren clung even tighter to him.
“I told you… I felt like I was going to lose you.”
“…And you found me. You did, Your Grace.”
The lantern didn’t go out. It shone brightly.
From Eren’s perspective, he couldn’t even see it anymore.
As if saying there was no need to look, as if promising to protect him from everything—Ashard’s broad back had completely blocked it from view.
While Eren was finally feeling relieved in Ashard’s arms, a man in a black robe walked past them.
He paused briefly, watching the two, and then disappeared down the alley.
And then—the lantern went out.
A strange rumor had started circulating within the Trovien Empire.
What began as idle gossip quickly became accepted fact, enough to be printed in the newspapers.
[Duke Fridit’s Secret Lover??????]
That headline, plastered with an absurd number of question marks, was nonetheless printed in the largest, boldest font and spread across the entire empire.
The rumor began with the claim that Duke Fridit, who hadn’t ventured outside the battlefield, his estate, or the imperial palace, had secretly gone to a theater with “someone.”
The fastest and most accurate source of such gossip?
Servants in noble households—especially the maids who worked in close proximity to the aristocracy.
“Is it true? That His Grace Duke Fridit has a lover?”
“You work for that household, don’t you? Don’t you know anything?”
Small rumors usually come and go.
But this one was far too significant to be dismissed lightly.
Ashard Fridit—one of the most discussed figures in the Trovien Empire.
Not knowing his name was enough to get you accused of being a spy.
A noble among nobles, renowned and from an influential house, holding the title of Duke.
Add to that his almost impossibly beautiful appearance—enough to leave anyone breathless—and there was one reason why so much attention focused on him:
Despite being well past the age, he was still unmarried.
From young noble daughters and sons to commoners who endlessly dreamed of fantasy-like romances—if they were unmarried, they had at least once imagined him as a potential partner.
And now, word had it that Ashard had secretly gone to see a play—a location in Trovien not unlike an inn in terms of privacy.
The maids of House Fridit, already burdened by his public stature, were exhausted by the new wave of gossip.
“…There’s nothing. His Grace has been so busy with work that I haven’t even seen his face in days.”
The maid replied indifferently, and disappointment spread across the faces of the curious.
‘Liar.’
Why wouldn’t she have seen him?
They’d seen him more recently than ever before, more than in all their years of service.
The maids of House Fridit exchanged glances and sighed deeply in unison.
They were dying to talk, but there was a strict order from above to stay silent.
Even with a rumor this hot, they had to keep their mouths shut.
As one stood up, something heavy shifted in her pocket.
A jingling sound followed.
She subtly peeked into it—gold coins.
Seeing them, the maids sealed their lips once more.
The subject of the rumors paced back and forth inside a room, occasionally letting out heavy sighs.
He understood the original story perfectly well.
It was, after all, the novel that first exposed him to such depraved and filthy tastes.
He had only read it once, but the impression it left was seared into his memory.
Was the story still following the original plot?
To that, Eren could confidently answer: no.
The original events couldn’t be unfolding—because the prerequisite for the story’s beginning, the victory in Epentel, had never occurred.
More importantly, Eren was now in Trovien, not Epentel.
And for the original plot to unfold as intended, the main characters had to be present.
While Eren, the protagonist, was indeed here, none of the other leads—neither the main nor supporting ones—were by his side.
So it should’ve been impossible for the plot to progress.
He’d fled to Trovien so those crazy bastards would lose interest and go their separate ways.
That was the future that should have played out.
And yet—
‘Why does it feel like the same things from the original are happening?!’
Though it hadn’t followed the script exactly—Ashard showing up in the alley instead of “that man”—Eren couldn’t shake his suspicion.
While he instinctively avoided people like Carlyle or Julius, who were nobles from birth, it wasn’t the same for him.
Helid Yulta.
The man, who was originally a commoner, was the only one among the nobles to carry the keyword “bastard.”
Kidnapping and confinement were just the basics—his perverse tendencies extended to humiliating his partner, to the point where he would assault Eren regardless of time or place.
Perhaps because of all the backlash, the author tried to pretty it up with carefully selected keywords, but that was all.
He was a lunatic with vulgar dialogue and actions that lacked even a sliver of thought.
“Just imagining it is horrifying…!”
Eren shivered as goosebumps erupted all over his body.
If trembling like that could shake off the thoughts of Helid from his mind, he would’ve kept shaking.
Of course, he knew that, in reality, Helid was just a psychotic character from a novel… but the problem was that this novel had become his reality.
The vivid descriptions of scenes with Helid played in his head, irritating him to no end.
“I told you not to wander off alone.”
* * *
