* * *

To steady my nerves, I turned to the window, pretending to admire the view outside.

Damn it, the shutters were closed.

I froze briefly but played it off, acting like I already knew.

Opening the shutters, I gazed at the slowly passing palace gardens.

But in my head, all I could think about was the glowing status window.

The garden scenery looked like broken game graphics to me.

Ateol stayed silent after that.

The carriage slowed before stopping at the entrance of a maze encircling the tower.

Cloden opened the carriage door, and Ateol stepped down first.

He offered me his hand in place of Serta.

For a moment, I hesitated, wondering if I should take it.

I decided to pretend I didn’t see and jumped down instead.

The carriage was too high to leap from easily, and the impact jolted me from my soles to my waist.

Ateol glanced at me and smirked slyly, hiding it from Cloden.

It was only then I remembered I had ignored Ateol’s last words, but it was too late now.

“This is as far as I can accompany you.”

Ateol spoke regretfully.

He wasn’t the one who allowed me to enter the maze.

Without his permission, the maze’s magical traps would send me wandering in circles forever, unless someone saved me.

“I’ll formally invite you soon.”

“It would be an honor.”

Ateol smiled and bowed, the way someone might respond to a casual, ‘We should grab lunch sometime!’ without thinking.

Fortunately, he didn’t press me about when, where, or how this invitation would take place.

Cloden greeted him as well before leading the way into the maze.

As I followed, I glanced back at Ateol.

He stood crookedly, watching me.

Just as I turned away, I heard a soft ping, and something appeared above Ateol’s head: a faintly glowing golden circle displaying a number—12%.

‘What is that?’

I squinted to look closer, but the circle vanished with a sound slightly different from before.

Instinctively, my eyes shifted to the status window.

‘Oh.’

A new menu had appeared:

[Affinity: Ateol
12%
Ateol thinks of you as, “Who the hell are you?”
Do better! ]

My jaw dropped in disbelief.

The status window… was a dating simulator?!

“Cloden.”

“Yes, Tower Master.”

After hesitating, I finally mustered the courage to ask:

“What do you think of me?”

“…Pardon?”

…Why is his face turning red?

Cloden’s ears and cheeks flushed slightly as he stared blankly, then hurriedly replied:

“You are my Tower Master.”

I studied the space above his head, but no glowing circle appeared.

His reaction seemed positive enough, more so than Ateol’s, at least.

As I pondered this, I glanced at the gauge, still rattled by the clinking sound it had made when it decreased.

Two days had passed since I discovered the status window was a dating simulator.

I’d roamed all over the tower, trying to find potential “targets” to increase affinity.

Starting with Cloden, I tried Serta and anyone whose name I knew.

Even the servants and low-ranking knights weren’t spared, thinking there might be a hidden character among them.

But all I got was a declining gauge—no sign of any affinity.

As a last-ditch effort, I’d outright asked Cloden, but still, no events triggered. Sigh…

When I wasn’t wandering, I stayed in my room reading or lying down, just as I had in my past life.

Oddly, that made the gauge increase.

It seemed safe to assume the gauge was akin to game currency.

“Shall I bring dessert today?”

Cloden asked, changing the subject.

Maybe it was my imagination, but his eyes behind the glasses seemed to tremble slightly.

How would I feel if my boss asked, ‘What do you think of me?’

Probably grossed out.

No wonder no affinity popped up.

Sorry, Cloden—I was being a nuisance.

I nodded.

The desserts in this world were exquisite, and I’d diligently read up on table manners and dietary customs to fit in.

Survival always starts with information.

The desserts arrived, neatly arranged: chocolate shaped like rose petals, thin sugar shells filled with chilled mint tea, rose jam and raspberry syrup on a cheese tart, juice-filled jelly, and assorted fruits with bitter black tea.

There was just enough of each to sample everything.

Honestly, I didn’t like sweets.

But whether it was due to this body’s preferences or their outstanding quality, I always ended up finishing dessert.

After the meal, Cloden brought two trays of letters.

The gold tray held the important ones, the silver tray the less critical.

On the gold tray, there was only a single note: a thank-you letter from the emperor for attending a recent ball.

The silver tray held two others.

“One letter is from Sir Rayen, and the other… from His Highness, the Fourth Prince.”

At the mention of Sir Rayen and Bell’s letter, I almost reached out for it in excitement but stopped myself.

I only learned who Bell was after she returned.

Bell was the deputy commander of the knight escort division and was currently running an errand for me.

He and I shared a friendship of sorts.

Hmm.

When Bell returns, I’ll have to check again if he’s a capture target.

But the other letter… from the Fourth Prince?

My face wrinkled at the thought, and Cloden, looking as though he was at fault for something, handed me the letter.

Not that he’d done anything wrong.

I reluctantly picked up the letter opener.

The content was simple.

“…He wishes to accompany me on the Day of Hamanan.”

“The Fourth Prince, Your Highness?”

Cloden furrowed his brows slightly.

The Day of Hamanan was a feast day honoring Saint Hamanan.

Originally, Siloni was a month of thirty dry days.

It is said that Hamanan stole the water jar of Siloni, the goddess of wells, turning ten of those days into a rainy season.

Hamanan solved a drought and, like any saint, suffered the gods’ wrath, ultimately gaining reverence to this day.

During the festival, I go to the square in front of the royal palace and scatter flower petals over the people.

This symbolizes the start of welcome rains following the floral rain.

And that Day of Hamanan was now only two days away.

It was customary for one of the royal family to accompany me.

Usually, the Crown Prince or the Second Prince took the role, though occasionally, the Grand Duke of Roanes would step in.

Oh, wait. The Northern Grand Duke?

He does exist.

Never mind him for now; that’s not the main issue.

If the Fourth Prince were to take on this role, it would signal strong support for him.

I set his letter aside and opened the one sent by the Emperor.

Beneath the formalities and polite gratitude, it expressed a wish to meet with me along with the Empress, given how we hadn’t had a proper conversation the other day.

In the past, I couldn’t understand why the Emperor would be so deferential toward me, but living this life has taught me why.

The fear of someone who could kill or spare lives without evidence is no joke.

Honestly, it’s good for me.

Cloden seemed to have a sense of the Emperor’s intentions and asked cautiously.

“Shall I tell His Majesty the Tower Master wishes to show him the Daffodil Garden?”

I nodded.

At this point, I was just a nodding doll anyway.

The Daffodil Garden was one of the many gardens surrounding the tower labyrinth, a glass greenhouse and a place I liked.

It would serve as the venue for meeting the Emperor and Empress.

Between us, terms like “audience” didn’t exist—we were equals.

It was simply tea time.

“I’ll relay the message immediately. Please, rest well, Tower Master.”

How immediate was “immediate,” I wondered?

* * *