#aries-afk

He had to learn everything at square one. He had to learn that not everyone praising him, and obeying his orders are to be trusted and on his side.

He learned that one time when one of his trusted servants attempted to poison him. Note: trusted servant.

The servant who took care of him ever since he was a newborn baby. The servant who first witnessed his first walk and heard his first words. The servant who he treated as a father figure. The servant who became both his guardian and teacher after the Queen’s passing.

He was so hurt and betrayed when that happened to the point that he closed his heart and stopped giving his trust.

You felt that deeply. Not the betrayed part, no. The story is so good you had to close the book and stare at the wall for ten minutes because heck, that's some tragic backstory.

But wait, there's more. More tragic? Yes.

Scaramouche, the lonely prince, is going to die. Not where he will grow old, or because of illness.

You thought that the poisoning was the last assassination attempt, but it turns out that there would be more than that.

Ugh… just thinking about them is making you feel nauseous!

Despite the tragic story, you keep reading it— hoping to see the part where Scaramouche will finally get his happy ending. But sadly, that part isn’t, and will never come.

See, this is the kind of book that deserves to be in the spotlight. Not the ones where the protagonist always needs saving and help like they cannot walk on their own two feet and do anything by themselves. No shade, by the way.

Anyway, back to the boring party…

Seeing that everyone’s done greeting you and that your parents are now busy entertaining the visitors, you took that chance to slip away and return to your room. After closing the door and locking it, you didn’t waste any time as you removed your heels and flopped down on your bed.

Yes, this kind of peace is just what I wanted.

You sit up and start removing the jewelry you’re wearing. You're never comfortable wearing them, along with the heels.

You were just about to put them back on the drawer, but you stopped when you noticed something on the top.

You blink once. Twice.

Oh my god.

Screaming, you grab the book and throw yourself back on the bed. There was a small note at the bottom:

Happy Birthday.

That’s it. No sender, no name— not even yours. Just those two words. It's like the heavens had heard your wishes and decided to give you the thing that you wanted the most on your birthday.

You hold up the novel and examine the cover. Just like the other volumes, the cover featured Scaramouche, sitting on his throne that's covered in thorns. That looks awfully painful. The only thing that's different from the first two was that his crown is now covered in blood and is dripping down his face.

The poor prince…

Changing to your pajamas, you flop back down on the bed and hug the novel as if comforting the protagonist that everything will be okay. You read the back cover again— but it was blank.

“Why is it blank?” you whisper to yourself and examine the book. The back cover is a total blank, without any designs, words, not even the bar code and ISBN.

Weird..

Yawning, you felt the exhaustion coming back to your body as you hugged the book to your chest and closed your eyes.

The book started glowing, but it was ignored as you started drifting to the dreamland.

—

Feeling the shivering cold in your body, you slowly open your eyes. The first thing that you noticed was the golden chandelier hanging in the ceiling. The second thing was the smell of a candle and incense wafting to your nose. And the third thing is a voice, a sharp and cold one that could rival the temperature of the floor you’re currently lying in.

“I’m giving you three seconds to tell me who you are and how you end up in my room.”

You sat up so fast you felt your vision blurring. You blinked through it and found the owner of the voice standing on your left, arms folded and looking down at you with a deadly glare.

But wait— he looks awfully familiar.

Dark indigo hair with a weird haircut, sharp eyes, and that red eyeliner…

You know that face.

You stared at the cover and even searched him up on the internet because holy— man got good-damn looks.

"Scaramouche!?" you said out loud before you could stop yourself.

His eyes narrowed. "Two seconds.”

He didn't even ask you how you know his name. He's just standing there, almost towering over you as he counts down and waits for your answer.

You slowly sit up and look around. “...How… where am I? I was just in my room right now.”

Funny you have the same questions as him running in your mind now.

Why are you here? With Scaramouche standing two feet away from you, you’re sure now that you're in his room. So now the real question is—

How did you end up inside the novel?!

“One—”

“I promise I'm not gonna hurt you!” you suddenly blurts out as you scramble to your feet in panic. Silence followed and you bit your lip in embarrassment.

Way to go, y/n.

“Hurt me?” his gaze turns sharper and he slowly walks towards you. You took a step back, but every time you do, the man in front of you keeps stepping closer.

Your back met the cold wall and you were looking everywhere but him. If looks could kill, you’d be lying dead by now.

“U-um…”

His aura is intimidating you so much you want to dig the ground and bury yourself six feet under.

You can feel his gaze lingering on you and you bite your lip to ease your nervousness. You can literally hear your own heartbeat.

Remind me why is he my favorite character again?

“Turn around.”

“Huh?”

Finally, you got the courage to look at him. WHAT'S HE GONNA DO?!

“I said turn around.”

“Uh… w–why?”

“I have to make sure you’re not hiding something inside that…” he eyes you up and down. “..sleepwear of yours.”

Your gaze immediately went down to your clothes. You're still wearing your pajamas, what's wrong with it?

“Um… what's wrong with my clothes?”

“Turn around.”

“I’m not hiding anythi—”

“Don't make me repeat myself, woman.”

Woma—?!

Feeling like crashing out, you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

Think carefully, y/n. This guy had every right to be cautious because he's surrounded by people wanting to take his life and throne. Calm down. Understand him. Be considerate. Take a deep breath. Inhale…… exhale.

“Look, Sir—” you stopped. Wait, what should I call him..? “Do I look like someone who’d take your life, Your Highness?”

You pointed to your pajamas. “Do assassins wear pajamas when trying to assassinate someone?”

You point at your face. “Do assassins not bother covering their faces when trying to assassinate someone?”

“No,” he narrowed his eyes once again. “But you might be the first so I’m telling you for the last time, turn around. That's an order.”

Those last three words made it clear that you’re not winning this. So with a resigned sigh, you reluctantly turn around to face the wall.

You wait for him to do something, but minutes have passed, Scaramouche hasn't moved to do a body check on you.

So taking this as a chance to prove your innocence, you start talking again in a low and soft voice.

"I'm not here to hurt you," you said. "I don't even know how I got here. All I remember was, I was asleep in my room, hugging my favorite book. Now I woke up on your floor without any clue how it happened.”

Please believe me. Please believe me. Please believe me. Please believe me.

Suddenly, you remembered some scenes from the book. The crown prince was famous for throwing "suspicious people" into the dungeons for trial— and execution.

And you? Who had just appeared in his private room out of thin air wearing pajamas?

Yup, you’re definitely doomed.

“Who sent you?” he asked.

“I... I don't know.”

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know.”

“What is your name?”

“I don't know—huh?”

You turned around to face him. He was still staring, arms crossed, waiting for an answer. His deep purple eyes seemed to glow, and you nervously bit your lip.

“I didn't give you permission to look at me.”

Your patience is running thin. Between the stress and the exhaustion of standing all day at your birthday party, you were done. You closed your eyes, took a long breath, and gave him a tired look.

“Please pardon my behavior, Sir. But I promise I'm not a threat. Like I've said, I have no idea how I ended up here. I was sleeping in my own bed because I was exhausted— it was my birthday yesterday, you know.”

You weren't sure why you added that last part, but at this point, you’d say anything to make him believe you. The Crown Prince didn’t respond, he just kept watching you, waiting for you to keep talking.

And because you're desperate to prove your innocence, you continue.

“You can... I don't know, tie me up in the corner over there, if you want? If I don't do anything all night and you wake up safe tomorrow, that proves I'm not an enemy.”

Silence. Then—

“You speak as if you know me and my situation quite well, woman.”

Oh, Your Highness, guess what?

You nervously scratched the back of your head and looked away.

“Actually...” you hesitated. Was it even safe to tell him you weren't from this world? “It's a long story. But I can assure you, all your secrets are safe with me!”

“My secrets?”

“Ah—”

You could only offer a weak smile and a peace sign. For some reason, the tension in your body started to fade. The room didn’t feel as cold, and Scaramouche didn't seem quite as scary anymore. Were you really getting used to this place already?

“Ajax,” the prince called out.

The door swung open and a knight stepped inside. The moment you saw his ginger hair and the mask resting on his head, your hand flew to your mouth. You actually gasped out loud.

Oh my god!

“Childe!?”

The words were out before you could stop them. You immediately regretted it as two pairs of eyes locked onto you.

Holy shit.

—

“Um… I know I said that you can tie me up, but that was just me trying to lighten up the mood! Come on, is this really necessary? I'm not an enemy! I can't even kill a mosquito!” you wriggle on the chair and look at the person behind you. “Mr. Childe, Sir, I don't mean to say your name out loud– ouch, don't make it too tight!— but please believe me, it was only a slip of tongue.”

“‘Slip of tongue’, so you really do know his name?” Scaramouche asked, his arms crossed while he stared at you down.

“Don't you think we should hear her out first? I don't really mind her calling and knowing my name, you know. Plus, she's pretty.” Childe, who just finished tying you up on a chair, said. He stands up and gives you a pitiful smile.

You feel your face flushing at the sudden compliment, but you have bigger problems right now so you look back at Scaramouche and nod your head aggressively as if agreeing to his knight’s suggestion of hearing you out first.

But sadly, this prince is also stubborn as hell. Sometimes, once he's made up his mind, everything else is just nothing to him.

“You should never let down your guard around her, Ajax. You know damn well that the people wanting to take my life are getting creative. Look at her hideous clothes.”

Back to my pajamas again?

“They're not hideous! They're cozy—”

“The patterns are adorable.” Childe deadpan.

“See, he gets me!” you're screaming now because you never thought that Scaramouche would actually take your words seriously!

“This or dungeon. Choose.”

That shuts you up instantly.

Taking a deep breath, you lower your gaze and bite your lower lip. So much for getting my favorite novel on my birthday…

When silence erupted in the cold room, your eyes started to feel heavy. All that exhaustion from standing all day is coming back to you again. It looks like the Crown Prince isn't going to give you a chance to speak, but at least he’s keeping you alive.

But this is still too much!

Think, y/n! Say something to get out of these ropes!

You look up at them again. “I have something very important to tell you, Your Highness.”

“Keep an eye on her, Ajax. Make sure she doesn't do anything.” the crown prince ignored you. He turns on his heel and heads to his desk. His aura literally said that he’s not in the mood to talk to you.

You're running out of options to prove your innocence, so you muster all your courage and sit up properly, looking at him.

“Someone is attempting to poison you tomorrow,” you said. “If I'm wrong, you can throw me into the dungeon and do whatever you want. But if I'm right—”

"Poison?" he stops in his tracks, cutting you off. “Sorry to disappoint you but that kind of information is nothing new to me.”

Well, that's... sad?

“But I'm telling the truth! Your maid, the new one with a mole under her left eye? That’s her. She’s actually a spy sent by Duke Pantalone.”

“Oh, you even know about Duke Pantalone?” Childe raised his eyebrow.

“I actually know everyone here…”

Scaramouche slowly turns back around, his eyes narrowing. The room feels ten degrees colder.

"You know everyone?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “The more you talk, the more you earn yourself a ticket to the dungeon.”

Childe leans against the wall, looking genuinely impressed. “Just curious, where are you from, princess?”

“It’s y/n.”

He blinks. “Never heard of it.”

“No, I mean, my name. It’s y/n. As for where I’m from…” you purse your lips. “It's actually far from here. But I still don't know how I ended up in Your Highness’ room.”

“Why are you telling us this?”

“Telling you what?”

“About this certain maid attempting to kill me.”

“Anything to get me out of these ropes and make you trust me, I guess…?” you sighed. “I'm just a commoner. I'm not a threat. I'm not an enemy.”

It feels like you’ve been telling him this for the nth time now. They're so tough to crack, is this what interrogation in a police station is like?

“She looks sincere to me.” YES, CHILDE, TELL HIM!! “And… tired.”

“Take her to the room on the west wing, then.”

Your ears perked. “I’m free?”

Scaramouche didn't give you an answer. Childe removed the ropes around you and you left the prince’s room to take you to your ‘new room’. That's what you want right now, to be honest.

To have a good sleep and rest. Your mind is too tired to think about what's happened, happening, and will happen. Thankfully, Childe didn't ask you anything as he led you to your room. He only bid you goodnight and closed the door, leaving you alone.

You didn't bother looking around as you dive right into the fluffy queen-sized bed and close your eyes.

I hope I'll wake up in my room tomorrow…

—

Two weeks after you transmigrated in your favorite novel, you realized that keeping the Crown Prince’s safety is not an easy task because keeping him away from his enemies means exposing yourself in danger, too.

You already give up hoping to wake up back in your room in the real world after a week. You did try finding clues on how you’ll do it, but you were left blank. So instead of moping, you decided to focus on surviving and save the crown prince from losing his head and his throne.

You already prevented three. The first one is the poisoning that you mentioned on your first day, the second one is an ambush attempt on his way from a grand ball, and the last one is another ambush attempt by an unknown baron that apparently hates the Crown Prince.

You almost wonder what kind of life Scaramouche had in his past life to have people going after his head in this life. Was he a famous mercenary? A tyrant king? A very notorious bandit?

“So this is why the hallways are quiet.” you jump when you hear Scaramouche’s voice behind you.

Speak of the devil.

You're currently in the garden, admiring the flowers and… thinking about your situation and the events that will unfold in the next few days— plans, or whatever to keep Scaramouche from death. You could say that this is one of your peaceful and free time because you’ve been working nonstop monitoring this stubborn prince.

You grinned at him and gave him a curtsy. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

“What were you thinking?”

Getting straight to the point, are we?

“Uh… the flowers?” Okay, that was a dumb answer. But how are you going to answer a question as straight as that?

“I’m thinking about the upcoming chapters where more nobles will attempt to kill you, sir.”

Yeah, right y/n. You are not going to tell him that.

Scaramouche already thinks you're some kind of "foreseer" because you know way too much. You tried telling him the truth once— that you aren't from this world and that his entire life is just a story to you— but he just looked at you like you’d completely lost your mind.

“Are you… okay?” he asked.

You ignored him for two days after that.

“What's going to happen next?” he sits on the bench beside you.

He's asking about the next unfortunate event that will happen to him.

He’s long given up asking where you came from, and why you have the “ability to predict the future”. Instead, he told you to tell him everything that you know.

His enemies, spies, traitors, and anyone who’s after his life and their ways of ending it.

And because you don't want anything to happen to your beloved favorite character, you told him you’d protect him— not by jumping in front of a bullet (let's be real), but by staying one step ahead of the plot. You're the only one who truly gets him and the only one who can keep him away from those greedy councils and backstabbing servants.

You cannot tell him everything that you know, but with this, at least he’ll be safe.

“I believe I asked you a question,” you snap back to reality when you hear his voice.

“Sorry, what was that again?”

“Duke Pantalone,” his voice is low and quiet, but enough for you to hear. “Is he really after the throne?”

You purse your lips and slowly nod your head.

“He's going to send you an invitation. It's best if you just ignore it.”

“Why?” you can feel his gaze on you but you remain staring at your feet. “If I accept it, what is going to happen?”

You remember the scene where the Duke invited the crown prince for a dinner in his mansion. It was supposed to be a normal dinner given that the Duke was a close friend of the late Queen Ei— Scaramouche’s mother.

But…

“Ugh…” just thinking about it is making you feel sick. That damn duke and his stupid schemes!

“It's not going to end well.” he said, almost whispering.

It’s not a question. But the way he said it, it sounds like he's really used to this.

“Don't worry, as long as I'm here, none of those rascals will lay their dirty hands on you!” you tried to give him your bestest and cheerful smile as you looked at him.

“With that small and fragile body of yours?” he snickered.

“Mind you, this small and fragile body of mine has already saved your life thrice, Your Highness.”

“Hmph.” Scaramouche stands up. “I'm going to accept the invitation.”

Hah?

“Um.. did you miss the part where I said just ignore it?” Seriously, what is he thinking?!

“What, you’re going to be there with me anyway.”

He didn't wait for you to say anything. You can only watch his back until he disappears in the shadows.

You close your eyes and take a deep, deep breath to calm yourself.

I want to go home.

—

Meeting the final villain is not, and will never be, on your to-do list while you're on vacation inside your favorite novel.

Well, the Crown Prince Scaramouche and Duke Pantalone are bound to meet someday because the latter used to be the former’s mother’s close friend, but this? Knowing that what's happening right now is a trap? What in the world is the Crown Prince thinking?!

“It's been three days since I sent the invitation, I thought I would never receive a response, Your Highness." the man in front of you said with a smile.

Duke Pantalone. One of Her Majesty the Queen’s trusted friends. But unfortunately, Scaramouche is not his mother, so that one doesn't count.

You can't even look at him straight because his face is pissing you off. Especially that smile— that smile that looks gentle but it’s actually full of malice when you look at it carefully.

“I was too busy so I don't have time to write you back,” Scaramouche’s hand made its way to your waist and he pulled you closer to him.

You were surprised at the sudden gesture, but you quickly composed yourself and gave the Duke your fakest smile. He briefly glanced at Scaramouche's hand on your waist before looking at you.

“Pardon me for asking, but who might this beautiful woman be?”

You tried your best to prevent yourself from rolling your eyes in disgust.

Just bear with it for an hour or two, y/n….

You moved away from Scaramouche and gave the Duke a curtsy. “Good evening, Your Grace The Dude—”

Dude?

DUDE?

You wanted to laugh at the mispronunciation but you forgot that you’re in front of a high ranking noble so you composed yourself. Imagine calling a Duke, “dude” like you’ve been friends since you were three? Oh boy you wanted to roll on the ground and laugh your ass off.

But since that’s impossible, you maintain your poker face because you might get punished or killed for the disrespect you just did. But who cares? You hate this man anyway.

You cleared your throat and gave him a bow. “...Your Grace The Duke.”

After a few greetings and embarrassment, you made your way to the dining hall. You sat beside Scaramouche while the Duke is on the farthest left of the long table.

The dinner is going well— smooth, even, because servants keep coming and putting whatever dishes the Duke had told them to serve. Mind you, there were only three of you and yet the big and long table is already full of plates.

You actually know what all of these are, and thankfully, they're not poisoned.

So the only thing that you need to watch out for the most is…..

“You. Bring the wine.” Duke Pantalone ordered the maid in-waiting. She immediately bowed her head and left in a hurry.

There it is. The famous wine.

“I didn't know you're such a drinker, Duke Pantalone.” Scaramouche said.

“It's like a routine every time I eat, Your Highness.” he answered with a laugh. The maid arrived with a bottle of wine and three wine glasses. She puts each in front of you and opens the bottle before pouring them. “Actually, this is why I invited you here. I wanted you to try this new wine I got from Fontaine. I heard this is limited so I didn't waste any chance to grab and try one myself.”

Liar. That wine is actually harvested from a poisonous fruit.

You stole a glance at the person sitting comfortably beside you. He's just watching the red liquid from the glass with an unreadable expression on his face.

You can feel Duke Pantalone's eyes watching him through the wineglass on his mouth, waiting for Scaramouche to drink it.

He’s so obvious it's so funny. Surely, the Crown Prince knew what he was planning, right??

“It doesn't look like it was made from grapes,” he said, earning a smile from you. “What's in it?”

Yes, keep asking him! And don't even try touching that glass and drink it!

However, the Duke wasn't even fazed at the sudden question.

“Oh, the usual, Your Highness,” Duke Pantalone said. “Fermented berries.”

Berries? Is that even possible?

“I see…” Scaramouche raised his hand to grab the wineglass and your mind started panicking.

No, no, no, don't just say, “I see” and take the glass! Put that down, sir! I said, put the glass down!!!

Not knowing what to do next, you quickly grab the glass from his hand and drink the wine in one go.

The two men inside the hall just watched you, both eyes wide open. Duke Pantalone was looking at you like you’d lost your mind, while Scaramouche… Well, he looks… upset.

You’ll ponder about that one later. For now, your priority is to keep Scaramouche safe and stop the evil Duke from his evil plans.

Ugh… Gross… Berries, my ass. It tastes like rotten mango!

You slammed the glass back at the table. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and give them a small smile. “That was… uh… a good wine.. Very flavorful..."

And then it hits you.

You put your hand on your chest and start gasping for air. It feels like your lungs are being squeezed and you closed your eyes, grabbing Scaramouche’s arm.

“You idiot, what the fuck were you doing?!” he grabs your arm and pulls you to him. His other hand made its way to your cheek and started checking you. “Don't you even dare close your eyes, y/n.”

You tried speaking but you can't even move your mouth. Your body’s starting to get numb too, but despite all of this, you still tried to speak and give him a smile.

“You’re… safe…”

And then you passed out.

—

When your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you noticed wasn't the ceiling of your old bedroom, nor the ceiling of your bedroom in the palace. The second thing is the familiar chandelier hanging, and lastly, the sweet and overwhelming scent of glaze lilies and incense filling the dark room.

You're in Scaramouche's room.

What happened…?

“Finally awake?”

You heard a sharp voice coming from beside you, so you weakly turned your head to find Scaramouche standing near the edge of the bed. He looked like an absolute wreck. His royal coat was tossed carelessly over a chair, his collar was unbuttoned, and his dark indigo hair was messy— as if he’d spent the last several hours violently running his fingers through it.

“Your Highness…?” you coughed at the dryness of your throat. “What happened? Did we… Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he repeated with a scoff. “You were the one barely hanging between life and death and you're really asking me if I'm okay?”

You pulled the blanket up to your nose to shield yourself from his glare. Geez… this is kind of weird but it felt nice seeing his usual grumpy side…

“What about you? Are you okay? Why the hell did you drink that goddamn wine knowing that it was poisoned?” he asked, voice still cold. You couldn't bring yourself to say something because it looks like you're in for a grand scolding so you continue looking at him, blanket still covering half of your face. “I knew exactly what was in that glass, you know? I just had to make sure that's why I confirmed what was in it. I was going to fake a seizure, draw out his hidden guards, and execute him for high treason on the spot.”

Oh.

“And what did you do? You stole the glass and drank the wine so now you were unconscious for almost a week because of your stupidity. You completely ruined my plan.” He took a deep breath to calm himself.

“...You should've at least told me about that plan…” you mumbled. I was actually losing my mind there, you know?! I thought you were really about to drink it!

“You said something?”

You shake your head. “So… uh.. I messed up the— your plan?”

“Miserably.”

“Well.. I’m sor—”

Scaramouche slammed his hand onto the mattress next to your head, making you flinch.

He leaned in, close enough you can feel his breath.

"What were you doing? What do you gain from throwing your life away for me? Is this some elaborate play to make me indebted to you? To make me trust you?” he asked.

You blinked when you heard his voice shaking, so you slowly looked down at his hand. He's gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles are turning white. Despite the harsh words and questions he’s throwing at you, you could see that his hands were also trembling.

Is he… scared?

You let out a sigh before looking up at him.

“I told you before, right? As long as I'm here, none of those rascals will lay their dirty hands on you.” You gave him a tired smile and lowered the blanket. “I don't know if I already told you this, but I made it my mission to keep you from whatever danger that's lurking around you. I wanted to keep you safe, but I guess I failed at doing it quietly.”

He scoffed, shifting his position so he’s now sitting beside you. “Yeah right you did. Idiot.”

You rolled your eyes, but you’re still smiling. You put your hand on your chest. “Anything for you, Your Highness.”

He stared at you. “But seriously, how are you feeling?”

“Weak…?” you tried raising your arms but you failed. “Limp like a vegetable, as you can see. What happened, by the way?”

“The wine was infused with wolfsbane, that's why you immediately passed out after drinking it.” he said. “It's a deadly poison, and with the amount you ingested, it's a miracle you're still alive.”

Scaramouche reaches out and removes the strands of hair from your cheek. His hand is cold, but his touch is gentle.

“From now on, you are not allowed to leave my sight. If you plan to be this stupid again, make sure it’s where I can see you so I can keep an eye on you. I can't have you jumping into death again before I could even stop you. No more protecting me, I can handle myself. Am I understood?”

“Loud and clear…” you reluctantly answered.

He smiled. This might be the first time that you've seen him smile genuinely. It looks.. nice. “Good.”

He retracted his hand and stood up.

“Wait, are you perhaps worried about me?” you grinned at him, wiggling your eyebrows.

Scaramouche drops his smile at your stupid question.

“The Duke is currently rotting in the deepest cell of the dungeons, if you're wondering.” he dodged your question that earned a chuckle from you. He grabs his coat and looks down at you again. “Don't do stupid things again, do you hear me?”

“So you're worried!”

He ignores you again. “All you have to do is focus on recovering. You're not allowed to leave this room until you're fully-recovered, and until I tell you so. Just call a maid, or Ajax if you need anything."

“But I can't—”

“That's an order.”

Just like before, he didn't give you a chance to speak and left the room. You continue staring at the huge door before grinning like a kid. You turn your gaze at the dark ceiling and start gathering your thoughts.

The assassination attempts failed. The villain is in the dungeon and currently facing trials before his execution. You almost died but at least you managed to keep the Crown Prince safe until the end.

Scaramouche wasn't poisoned. His body wasn't burned.

Yes, that was the tragic fate that awaits him. The Duke plans to poison him first to make him lose consciousness, and after that, he plans to burn his body to leave no traces of evidence, and to erase the Crown Prince’s existence entirely. That's how cruel he is— the Smiling Villain who’s been eyeing the throne ever since Her Majesty The Queen is still alive.

But now… everything has changed. His plan is ruined. And he’s now facing charges for attempting to overthrow the monarchy to ascend the throne.

The plot of the novel was officially broken. You changed the ending.

No more protecting the Crown Prince. No more saving your favorite character. Although he hinted that it's his turn to protect you from now on…

You forced yourself to sit up and look at the huge window. When a ray of sunlight hits your face, you smile.

Oh well. All is well.

Mission failed successfully... I guess?