Fortunately, I moved faster than they thought...
A trace of relief rose in Moen’s heart, the kind of relief resembling an old boar barging into a vegetable garden and ravaging the cabbages all night without getting beaten to death.
No matter what, if Celicia still detested him as she did before, after last night, he might truly become the very victim that Aldrich III referred to—the soul lingering under the cold hands of that proud princess.
Yet, there was still one thing Moen couldn’t fully comprehend...
Why was His Majesty, who had been observing the situation indifferently and done nothing from start to finish, so confident in this outcome?
Was he not afraid that the engagement between him and Celicia might genuinely be jeopardized?
After all, it seemed logical that His Majesty ought to strongly desire for the successful conclusion of this engagement. He needed the Campbell family—or at least the name of the Campbells—to help him balance the decaying factions of aristocracy.
It was hard to gauge...
Moen cautiously stole a glance at the emperor. Though the supreme ruler of the empire was seated right before him, he seemed shrouded in an impenetrable mist.
Even now, Moen couldn’t quite grasp the purpose of His Majesty summoning him.
Could it be... to alleviate loneliness, pulling him in for idle chatter?
...
As Moen’s mind wandered through various speculations, Aldrich III suddenly shook off his earlier drowsy state and rose from the oversized sofa.
“Campbell boy, follow me.”
He turned and headed toward the far end of the room.
Moen silently followed behind him.
Just as Moen thought Aldrich III was about to show him something special or introduce him to someone, his surroundings suddenly brightened.
They had come outside, standing on a terrace.
Through the intricately carved balustrades that looked as if fashioned from white jade, the descending sun burned over the vast western plains, setting the billowing clouds ablaze. The magnificent city below was blanketed in radiant crimson light from the evening sky.
From this vantage point, one could look down upon most of Belland.
Aldrich III placed his hand on the jade railing, his deep eyes impenetrable even by the sunlight, gazing at the majestic city beneath his feet.
“Moen Campbell, standing here now, at the highest point of this city, what do you see?” he asked abruptly.
“What do I see?”
Moen was startled for a moment.
He was about to ponder the deeper meaning behind this question when Aldrich’s voice sounded again beside him.
“Answer me now.”
His tone bore endless authority, seemingly laced with a peculiar force that scrambled Moen’s thoughts, prompting an instinctive response.
“The sunset is beautiful.”
“And?”
“And... the rivers flowing under the sunset are beautiful too. They remind me of an unforgettable scene.”
Moen’s lips curled into a smile, and his eyes softened.
“...”
Aldrich III glanced at him, a single eyebrow raised, then lightly tapped the railing.
“I meant for you to look at the city.”
“The city...”
Moen lowered his head, surveying Belland.
In his lake-like eyes, most of Belland was reflected; from this vantage point, it felt as though nothing could escape his vision.
What a marvelous sensation—to have everything laid bare, everything seeming so small, as insignificant as ants beneath his feet.
And so, his expression turned solemn.
“There...”
“There?”
“That street there…”
Moen pointed toward a specific direction, his expression earnest to the extreme.
Aldrich III tilted his head slightly, following Moen’s gaze toward the iconic Queen Street.
“What about that street?”
“That street…”
Moen took a deep breath, a gleam of sharp insight flashing in his eyes.
“That girl in the short skirt—her chest is huge, and her legs are so white!”
“...”
In the silence, accompanied by the crisp sound of cracks, Aldrich III withdrew his hand from the railing, ignoring the fissures spreading across its surface. He turned back and gave the blonde youth a thoughtful look.
Moen shuddered and snapped back to his senses, internally cursing himself.
What the hell am I doing—why did I say something so irreverent in front of His Majesty?
What now? Will the emperor charge me with disrespect?
Or worse, report me to Celicia, only to have her kick me around again?
But just as Moen was racked by his anxious thoughts, Aldrich III suddenly erupted into laughter.
“Ha, haha… Her chest is huge, and her legs are white? This is the first time I’ve heard anything like that.”
It was the first time Moen discerned a genuine laugh emanating from the man perpetually cloaked in enigmatic mist.
His brows arched sharply, like swords drawn from their sheath.
It seemed as though the entire world quivered with the thunderous joy of this man.
“Moen Campbell, you’re far more interesting than I had imagined.”
“Uh?”
Moen wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
“Not sure what Your Majesty means.”
“Even within this palace, I’ve heard many tales about you,” Aldrich III paused. “Not very flattering ones…”
“Lies! Just lies spread to slander me! Your Majesty must not believe them!” Moen’s eyes flared in indignation.
Sure, maybe the old him warranted some of those tales. But the current him? Not at all. He was entirely detached from those so-called disgraceful behaviors now.
“Yet not too long ago, someone came to me complaining about how you, as the son of a duke, indulged yourself recklessly in the academy, doing things that dishonored your noble title—even running around naked, apparently.”
“Pfft…”
Moen barely suppressed a mouthful of blood.
What?! Why would something so trivial find its way into the emperor’s ears?
Your Majesty, are you seriously this bored?
“And then there were allegations of you bullying other noble scions, living a debauched lifestyle, and allegedly juggling relationships with over a dozen partners at once. I won’t bother listing everything else, but suffice to say the complaints about you were endless.”
Aldrich III spoke nonchalantly, “Yet not long ago, there was a different story—that you had turned over a new leaf. You were studying diligently, carrying yourself in a manner befitting a true duke’s heir, almost as though you had become a different person entirely.”
“... When burdened with the expectations of family and parents, one has to try and make an effort, right?” Moen smiled politely.
“Is that so?”
Aldrich III smiled noncommittally before continuing, “For someone to undergo such a sudden transformation, I naturally felt curious. Hence, I summoned you here to see for myself if those rumors were true.”
“... Did Your Majesty observe anything?”
“...”
Aldrich III turned back, smirking faintly.
“Why don’t you take a guess?”
Pfft...
Your Majesty, must you play coy like this?!
Moen felt utterly stifled, as if a lump were lodged in his chest, neither rising nor settling—a thoroughly unpleasant sensation.
Yet a glimmer of understanding suddenly dawned in his mind.
His Majesty… is testing me?
Or rather, testing the Campbell family?
“Moen Campbell, let me ask you one last question.”
Aldrich III no longer gazed down upon the city but instead turned upward to the twilight.
“In your future, What do you want most?”
“The future?”
“Yes.”
Aldrich III said, “At present, you are a duke’s son and a princess’s fiancé. You hold noble status, limitless wealth, and power within arm’s reach...
“It’s not hard to imagine how bright your future will be.
“But when you step into that radiant future, possessing all that ordinary folk couldn’t even dream of owning in their lifetime, what is it that you will desire then?”
“I…”
Moen hesitated for a moment.
"What you desire for your future"—a question truly among the hardest in the world to answer.
After all, the future self remains an enigma to everyone.
But for Moen, this question had long been settled.
Under the gentle light of the setting sun, Moen scratched his cheek, embarrassed as though declaring a childlike dream to a caring parent, and responded softly:
“I want… to live a happy life.”
Indeed.
To live a happy life.
This was his ultimate aspiration, unwavering even after traveling to this world, enduring so much, and brushing past death countless times.
He may be the blond antagonist—the villain written into someone else's story. He may be spied upon by dark gods and abhorred by fate.
But still, he wished to live.
And live happily.
Such simplicity.
“Is that so?”
Yet Aldrich III turned back with pity in his gaze and remarked:
“For you, that might be the most difficult thing in the world to achieve.”
