* * *

“When I was young, I could never have imagined it. Watching them lash out at me because I gained something they can’t control, and they have no choice but to take it out on me—that’s power, isn’t it?”

“True power is when they can’t even take it out on you, though.”

“That will come in time. For now, even maintaining my composure in front of them is a form of power. And it was… delightfully sweet.”

“…I see.”

I almost asked something, but the words caught in my throat.

‘Did you kill me because you wanted power?’

That was what I’d been about to say.

But I stopped because it felt too obvious.

Of course, Ateol hadn’t killed me out of some personal grudge.

It was just a step in his path to the throne.

To gain the imperial seat, a powerless prince needed substantial backing.

And the supporter he’d found was the real Yuri Aieles.

I was just a placeholder in Yuri’s position, an unnamed villain serving to make the protagonist’s eventual reclamation of his identity all the more satisfying.

It was laughable to ask why.

What was I to him?

Noticing my sudden silence, Ateol tilted his head.

“Tower Master?”

When I dropped my gaze, I saw Ateol’s hand—the same hand that had once offered me poison.

His cold, calculating eyes flashed in my mind.

Had there been some backstory between Ateol and the false Tower Master?

Maybe.

Perhaps it was that backstory that made him so indifferent.

I’d never know.

Lost in thought, I suddenly blurted out something unexpected.

“You’re impossible to read.”

What…?

As soon as I said it, I regretted it.

No, I was confused.

Why had I said that?

It wasn’t like I was wrong—Ateol was as unreadable as they came—but was that something I needed to say?

To him?

Now?

More than regret, I felt bewildered.

Why had those words slipped out?

Ateol looked equally taken aback, laughing faintly as he stared at me.

Then he replied.

“I believe that’s my line to say.”

“…….”

“Was I being impudent?”

It was true that he was impudent, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

I simply turned my head away.

“Even so, I must ask what I need to ask.”

For a moment, I thought he meant to bury me mid-sentence and felt a jolt of panic.

I managed to maintain my composure and gave him a slight nod.

“For someone who’s lost their memory, you seem overly composed. How much do you know, and what don’t you know?”

“Well, roughly… My name, magic, and a general sense of my status. But I don’t remember anything about the people around me or my past.”

It would’ve been so much easier if I could just say my memory was factory-reset.

Ateol, seemingly unable to grasp the situation, asked a few more questions about my memory.

If I remembered what happened at a certain age, why I came to the tower, or what kind of work I used to do here.

Since I didn’t know any of it, I answered truthfully.

Hearing my consistent “I don’t know,” Ateol furrowed his brows.

“Do you know what caused it?”

“No idea.”

Hmm. Ateol crossed his arms with a meaningful hum.

This time, I asked him.

“…What was your relationship with me?”

I was curious about the real connection between the fake Tower Master and Ateol.

Whether he’d answer or not was another matter.

Predictably, Ateol just uncrossed his arms, placed one hand on his waist, and chuckled.

“If I told you, would you play along?”

“No.”

His teasing tone annoyed me, so I replied curtly.

Ateol only seemed amused.

“It doesn’t matter to me, it’s not my business.”

“How is it not your business?”

“I told you, I don’t remember anything. Whatever you know, that’s something the owner of this body did before losing their memory. It has nothing to do with me.”

It was entirely true.

It was something the original owner of this body did.

Sure, as someone who’s now taken over this fake Tower Master, those things technically become my actions too, but I had no intention of owning up to them.

“You speak quite peculiarly. Even before losing your memory, you were still the Tower Master.”

“…If I don’t remember, that wasn’t me.”

No, it wasn’t.

That was the fake Tower Master.

And now I’m the fake of a fake.

“If you keep saying that, how will you handle things when your memory comes back?”

“Well… That’s something to deal with if it happens. Crimes committed under mental incapacity usually get reduced sentences, anyway.”

Ateol raised a brow.

“What are you even talking about?”

Oh crap, I’d never actually read the legal codes of this world.

Could it be that such laws don’t exist here?

Mental incapacity or diminished responsibility?

I should probably start studying the law here.

It’s bound to be wildly different from Korea or Earth.

“I’ve never heard of such laws.”

“What… Why not? Surely, people get some leniency for actions taken when they’ve lost their mind.”

“That’s nonsense. Would we pardon someone for claiming they were drunk and don’t remember what they did?”

“…….”

Well, that… In Korea, it is a mitigating factor, but yeah, it’s pretty absurd.

Then again, laws are complicated.

Better to drop it.

It seems this world doesn’t have such laws, and trying to explain would only make me seem crazy.

Ateol might start seeing me as some kind of lunatic.

“Well, anyway. Our relationship is a secret.”

Ateol winked as he said this, his tone dripping with meaning and innuendo.

“…You said there was no relationship, remember!”

To be precise, he had said, [What kind of relationship could there be with a pathetic excuse of a prince?’

He leaned in with a sly grin.

“Indeed. Which side do you think it was?”

He was being insufferably cheeky.

There was no better way to describe it.

Irritated, I let out a long sigh and stepped back from him.

The angle I had to look up at him lessened slightly.

“Forget it. Just go back. …Why did you even come here?”

“Why, to thank you for letting me savor the taste of power, of course. Though I wasn’t granted an audience, it’s a relief to have met you this way.”

“…….”

In the end, I sent him away.

Thankfully, he left without further comment.

Perhaps because he’d already said everything he wanted to say.

No, he definitely left because he’d gotten everything off his chest and was satisfied.

ꔚ

Back at the tower, I tried to lie down on my bed but couldn’t stay still and shot up again.

My feet carried me to the training grounds where the knights were practicing.

When I appeared suddenly, hood pulled low over my face, the entire training ground was thrown into a frenzy.

The commotion only subsided when Serta slammed her sword into the ground with a resounding clang.

“My apologies, Tower Master. It seems the knights have grown undisciplined.”

“That’s not the issue. …I have a question.”

I didn’t care how the knights reacted, but Serta’s cold gaze as he surveyed them made me feel guilty.

They were bound to have a tough time after I left.

At my mention of a question, Serta dismissed the nearby knights and led me to a quiet corner of the colonnade.

* * *