* * *
The emperor made a swift decision to abdicate.
Of course, it helped that Caleus persuaded him—though whether it was persuasion or a threat was unclear.
Either way, the imperial couple had unquestionably failed in raising their children.
One turned out to be a traitor, another an idiot, and the last a complete scoundrel.
Not that they seemed particularly interested in raising that last one properly in the first place.
It was impossible to tell just how deeply Caleus had been involved in all of this.
He had stepped down from his position as crown prince ahead of time and played a significant role in forcing the emperor and empress to confess their crimes.
That made it difficult to outright ask, “So, which part of this did you actually take part in?”
For all I knew, Caleus might have been the mastermind behind the entire affair.
As for the emperor and empress’s confessions…
Well, it wasn’t as if they were completely uninvolved.
But maybe they simply couldn’t bring themselves to ignore their eldest son’s desperate plea to spare their lives.
Naturally, Ateol was designated as the next emperor.
At the same time, rumors about a marriage between the imperial palace and the Magic Tower were spreading here and there.
Not that it was any of my business.
Even if those rumors were to die out on their own later, it wouldn’t be a big deal—just a mild disappointment for a few hopeful souls.
After all, the Tower’s master had always been notoriously unpredictable.
I—no, the current Yuri Aieles—was probably the 22nd in line.
Only the name changed, while all records regarding the succession process were nonexistent.
If I had to make a guess, the Tower’s master was similar to the Dalai Lama—treated as the same person across generations, yet actually a title that was inherited.
It seemed to involve some concept of spiritual succession.
Magic, too, was passed down.
After all, no one could live forever.
Either way, throughout history, every single Tower Master had displayed at least one or two instances of eccentric behavior.
Was it the name Yuri that caused it?
Or was the land the Tower was built on simply cursed?
In any case, even if I suddenly set a romantic atmosphere only to bolt out of nowhere, people would just sigh and say, “There he goes, being fickle again!”
Ateol, at least, had known from the beginning that I was an imposter.
“Haa…”
I let out a sigh and lowered my gaze to the desk.
Several thin booklets lay open before me.
They were costume design books, each no more than ten pages long, bound in parchment and adorned with fabric samples.
Every single one of them was needlessly extravagant.
Truthfully, I had already tried on far more sample garments than this.
These were just the shortlisted options, compiled into a book for me to choose from.
They were for Ateol’s coronation.
Even though the robes would cover everything, they had still paid meticulous attention to the details of the clothes worn underneath.
Every time I saw this, I thought the same thing—it was such a pointless effort.
And yet, this time, the grandeur was even more excessive than before.
It wasn’t even my coronation.
What was the point of all this?
Eventually, I slammed the booklets shut, shuffled them around with my eyes closed, and then let them scatter across the floor.
With a loud rustling sound, they piled up in a mess.
I picked up the one that ended up on top just as Cloden burst into the room, startled.
“Tower Master, is everything all right? I heard a loud noise—”
“It’s nothing. I’ll go with this one. I’ll clean up, so you can leave.”
Apologies to all the designers behind those countless printed letters, but I couldn’t be bothered.
Cloden took the booklet I handed over and quietly left the room.
I crouched down and gathered the scattered booklets one by one.
Ateol’s coronation was approaching by the day.
And ever since our last meeting, aside from formal letters of courtesy, he hadn’t contacted me at all.
For some reason, my status window only showed a base favorability of 99%, while the special favorability had completely vanished.
Even the morning letters that arrived daily contained nothing but polite, conventional phrases.
There wasn’t a single sentence that hinted at his true thoughts.
I had no idea what Ateol was thinking.
Well… does it even matter?
But what if—after I leave—Ateol ends up marrying Siwoo when he returns to the Magic Tower?
“…….”
…Hah.
As if something like that would—
“…….”
I called Cloden back.
Ateol had temporarily moved to the Crown Prince’s palace to prepare for the coronation, leaving Siwoo alone in the now-empty Fourth Prince’s residence.
Siwoo looked completely lost when I showed up unannounced.
But surprisingly, he didn’t seem entirely displeased.
According to the status window, increasing Siwoo’s favorability would help fill Ateol’s missing 1%.
But how were those two things connected?
I stared at Siwoo, but obviously, no answer was going to come from him.
“I brought you a gift.”
“A g-gift? For me?”
Siwoo flinched so hard he nearly knocked over his tea.
Was it really that shocking?
I gestured to Cloden, who retrieved the gift I had brought.
It wasn’t anything extravagant.
But in any game, gifts were the best way to raise favorability.
Now that I thought about it, I had never given Ateol a gift.
Could that be why his last 1% hadn’t increased?
“I heard you like reading.”
“Yes… My speech is still quite clumsy, so…”
Siwoo answered hesitantly, his expression a little embarrassed as he unwrapped the package.
Inside were books, a notebook for transcribing, a pen, and ink.
The Fourth Prince’s palace probably already had such things, but I had chosen them with sincerity in mind.
[Favorability: Siwoo]
25%
This time, there was no additional explanation.
Well, that was better.
The explanations only ever made me frustrated anyway.
Siwoo carefully flipped through the book and notebook before his cheeks flushed slightly.
He looked similar to me, but his aura was much softer.
What made us different?
I felt envious.
“Thank you, Tower Master. I really love writing.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Huh.
I gave him a gift that was perfectly suited to his taste, but the favorability increase was barely noticeable.
Ateol’s had skyrocketed without any gifts at all.
…Surely, I wasn’t supposed to physically interact with Siwoo too, right?
Feeling an ominous foreboding, I glanced at the status window again—but thankfully, there was no such instruction.
Siwoo wasn’t particularly talkative, and since I didn’t go out of my way to engage him either, the tea table often fell into silence.
Perhaps feeling awkward, Siwoo started talking about anything that came to mind, and I responded appropriately—kindly, but without going out of my way.
Most of our conversation revolved around the capital and the empire.
I must not have been annoying him, because every time I spoke, his favorability ticked up by +1, ever so slowly.
“Um… Tower Master, what do you think it would feel like… to lose your memories?”
“Memories…?”
So he really was concerned about his amnesia.
Hearing this from my position of skepticism made me feel a little guilty.
I tilted my head.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never lost them before.”
“Oh, r-right. That’s true. Of course.”
Realizing how obvious my answer was, Siwoo flushed red and lowered his head slightly, letting out something like a laugh.
* * *
