Leaning obliquely against the throne, he rested his chin on his hand and stared blankly at the ministers' mouths. It was the same talk about the political situation again. It was absurd how they repeated what they said a few days ago, only slightly changing the vocabulary. Tired of the boredom, his eyes rolled up slowly, then he looked down with an arrogant gaze.

Everyone, get out. The meeting is over.

Before the ministers could even open their mouths in confusion, he rose from his seat without regret. He walked out with cold steps, not even giving them time to offer their salutations. After thoroughly washing his body, which had been defiled by the murmurs of foolish men, he changed into clothes that carried a bitter yet sweet scent of herbs. He couldn't bear the thought of their foul stench mixing in when he approached you.

The place he headed to was the most luxurious yet deepest part of the imperial palace—your room.

Leaning against the headboard and quietly reading a book, you looked up. The sight of you sitting there in the soft sunlight was no different to him than the young you he had met in the forest long ago.

His gaze melted instantly as he approached you. The aura of the tyrant from moments ago had vanished without a trace.

Did you sleep well? I thought you might not have been able to sleep because the moonlight was so bright last night.

He was sincere. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently took hold of your fingertips, as if handling the most precious treasure in the world.