42.
I flipped through the pages in my mind, but no matter how many times I retraced them, I had no memory of Everett appearing in the story.
‘Could it be?’
Perhaps I was trapped in confirmation bias, but the only detail I could recall from reality was that “the Emperor’s adjutants, excluding Everett, were generally vassals who had stayed by his side since he was young.”
‘He joined the latest, and his background isn’t anything special—doesn’t that fit the requirements for an expendable extra?’
Even though it was summer, a chill ran down my spine.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Connie noticed my face had suddenly gone pale and asked with concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Seeing the confusion in her eyes, I forced the corners of my mouth up into a semblance of a smile.
Even if she asked why, I had no answer to give her.
‘It’s too early to just despair and collapse.’
“You spoke so realistically that I think I got too immersed for a moment.”
Instead, I wrapped my arms around myself, as if to say I felt a chill in the summer heat.
When I teased her by saying that if she became a storyteller, she would have bought a building in the Capital by now, Connie forgot her discomfort and started teasing me back.
“I’m looking for a Carolina Diaz to confirm whether or not I have a talent for storytelling.”
“I refuse. You’re the one who knows best whether you have the talent or not.”
Connie didn’t care about my refusal.
“I reject your rejection! You’re the one who brought it up. So, once upon a time, there was an abandoned house in a certain territory where eerie shadows were seen every night…”
Setting the mood, she attempted a horror story right in the middle of a place brightened by the midsummer sun.
I smiled with only one corner of my mouth lifted at the challenge Connie had offered.
“So, did a ghost or something actually appear in that abandoned house?”
Connie visibly flinched at the mention of a ghost.
I asked with a mischievous tilt of my head.
“Then, who do you think will be the one losing sleep tonight after this story? You, or me?”
Of the two of us, Connie was the one who was far more terrified of spirits and specters.
‘Overwhelmingly so.’
The Capital was a place where land prices increased exponentially the closer you were to the Imperial Palace.
There were cemetery parks, but Indar Street, which was close enough to the Imperial Palace to walk to work and had low rent, was an area preferred by lower-level officials.
In the townhouse where I lived, about half of the residents were staff working at the Imperial Palace.
‘Land prices around the Imperial Palace are scarier than ghosts, after all.’
However, Connie lived on the outskirts of the Capital, enduring a long commute, simply because she was terrified of Grizel Park.
Connie, having chosen a subject she herself hated just to tease me for a split second, flinched.
I shook my head, signaling I’d let it slide just this once.
“Then, shall we stop the banter and go back to the rat race?”
“Yeah.”
Connie nodded obediently to my suggestion.
She lived alone and was quiet, perhaps already worrying about tonight’s sleep.
‘Why did she bring it up when she hates ghosts that much?’
Watching Connie walk slowly, my inner judgment lasted only a moment. Even as I headed toward the office, my mind remained a tangled web.
‘I should have a notebook at home that summarizes the original work.’
Although the contents of the story remained vivid, I was currently in a state where I had lost my objectivity.
‘Since the information is so sparse, even a slight misinterpretation could lead to vastly different results.’
If the distance is far, even a small shift in aim causes the arrow to miss the target by a wide margin. Analyzing the affairs of an adjutant who only appeared in a line or two in the original was as difficult as shooting an arrow at a target the size of a fingernail.
I prayed briefly that the past me, who had just recovered her memories, had written down something that could serve as a hint.
Although the tension had lessened slightly thanks to the banter, time flowed with agonizing slowness.
As if someone had stretched the minutes thin.
*･☪D✶༄ ‧₊˚a⋰˚☆m✶༄ ‧₊˚
‘At least quitting time comes eventually.’
As soon as the day ended, I left all remaining work behind and rushed home to find the notebook where I had recorded my memories.
I didn’t even change my clothes; I stood there and flipped through the pages in a blur.
The first chapter of the novel started with the regression scene of Iveta, the female protagonist.
‘For convenience, let’s call Iveta’s life before the regression the first loop, and after the regression the second loop.’
The Iveta of the first loop was a low-ranking priestess from an orphanage. She was a horse easy to use and discard, mobilized for the evil deeds committed by the High Priest while under a soul-binding curse that robbed her of her will.
‘Then, the Emperor, who couldn’t stand the temple’s corruption, gradually pressured them.’
It didn’t take long for the High Priest, who belittled the Emperor as nothing but a strong-headed brat, to be driven into a corner.
‘Feeling the danger, the High Priest set his eyes on a sacred object that existed only in legend.’
Priests in a position similar to Iveta were consumed in the search for the relic.
‘In the end, Iveta, the only survivor, found the sacred object, but…’
Iveta, too, was dying from injuries sustained during the search. In the moment before her death, the curse engraved on her soul lost its power. The evil deeds she had committed under the High Priest’s orders flashed before her eyes like a revolving lantern.
Although it hadn’t been her own will, she had done them. This caused Iveta more pain than the physical wounds that led to her death.
In her final moment, Iveta prayed to God Minos.
‘May God’s blessing reach those who were sacrificed. And may the High Priest pay the price for his sins.’
‘Perhaps the sacred object responded to her desperate prayer; Iveta regressed to the past.’
Awakening as a Saintess at the same time as her regression, Iveta joined hands with the Emperor, who shared her enemy.
‘The beginning of their contract relationship was also from this point on.’
The main story of the novel was about Iveta, her memories returned as the curse broke, using future information to systematically bring about the High Priest’s downfall.
‘And a happy ending with the Emperor, whom she fell in love with during their revenge.’
The notebook I had written when my memories were freshest was quite helpful.
‘There is definitely no Everett.’
It confirmed that Everett had never appeared since the start of the original work—that is, from the moment the Emperor and the Saintess first met.
‘He might have transferred positions, or perhaps he received a fief and retired to the countryside.’
I kept looking for other possibilities, as if to avoid the reality I dreaded. However, I couldn’t just think positively and feel relieved.
I looked down at the list of adjutants I had obtained by asking an acquaintance. Most of the names had marks next to them.
Including Everett, there were only three people who were the Emperor’s adjutants but were never mentioned in the novel.
‘One of three, huh.’
I let out a sigh.
33.3%.
It was too large a number to dismiss indifferently. Although no detailed description was given, due to that adjutant’s blunder, the Emperor was destined to fail in his plan to immediately deal with his political rival, Duke Camelot.
Duke Camelot was a man the Emperor had long held a grudge against and had been waiting to punish. It was already described as a ‘severe punishment’ in the original, but the current Emperor’s cruelty was rising faster than expected, to the point where he would resort to bloodshed.
If I wasn’t careful, he might inflict an even worse punishment than in the original.
I squeezed my eyes shut to shake off the gruesome imagery, then opened them again.
‘Is it okay to intervene?’
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to save the adjutant, who might be Everett.
‘What if the future changes because of my actions?’
I was anxious because it felt like the timeline was already warping, little by little.
Fortunately, my hesitation didn’t last long.
‘I’ve read quite a few romance fantasy novels.’
The more I obsessed over the original and worried about the plot getting twisted, the more the future became warped anyway.