WTSP - 14

“So you should’ve been more careful… If the knights find out, it’ll be a disaster.”

“Are you absolutely sure that puff of snow isn’t a monster?”

“It’s not a monster—it’s a lesser snow spirit. And he looks more like a snowball than dust.”

Serdelius glanced at Pompoo with suspicion.

Just five minutes ago, could this tiny creature really have unleashed a sharp blizzard onto his eyes and hair?

Pompoo had turned his back completely on Serdelius, clearly holding a grudge. It seemed he’d thoroughly earned Pompoo’s ire.

“How could you mistake such a cute little thing for a monster?”

“Cute as it may be… I’ve never seen an actual spirit before. How was I supposed to know?”

Serdelius gave Pompoo another glance before falling silent. He likely hadn’t anticipated something like this happening.

Perhaps Pompoo had been listening to our conversation, because one of his ears twitched. Pretending otherwise, but clearly pleased by the compliment.

Thanks to his obliviousness to the warning signs, dozens of scratches now adorned Serdelius’ face. They weren’t deep—medicine would heal them quickly—but his entourage wouldn’t take this lightly.

“What excuse are you planning to give the knights?”

“I might say I tripped while walking.”

“Unbelievable.”

I barely suppressed the urge to flick him on the forehead for voicing what I’d only thought. Instead, I dabbed at his wounds with a silk handkerchief.

It must have stung, but Serdelius didn’t show any sign of pain. His expression remained stoic—whether he truly felt nothing or simply hid it well, I couldn’t tell.

‘To leave so many marks on the emperor’s face…’

I sighed deeply, alternating my gaze between Pompoo and Serdelius. It felt like I’d suddenly gained another younger sibling, alongside Lena and Pompoo.

“Lift your chin slightly, Your Majesty.”

“Will you ask that spirit when it plans to stop sulking?”

“I can’t exactly communicate with Pompoo either.”

Shaking my head, I pressed the edge of the handkerchief against a scratch on his jaw.

In truth, it was surprising that Serdelius hadn’t immediately drawn his sword, regardless of whether Pompoo was a spirit or not. His image screamed merciless efficiency—be it monsters or demons, he’d cut them down without hesitation.

‘Could it really be that he found Pompoo cute?’

Even as a spirit, Pompoo’s attack power wasn’t particularly high.

At least, that’s what the book I read claimed. While mid- and high-level spirits surpassed human capabilities, low-level spirits were low-level for a reason.

So someone like Serdelius could easily handle him if push came to shove.

‘Maybe he secretly finds Pompoo endearing.’

“What are you thinking about?”

As if reading my mind, Serdelius spoke up. Flustered, I extended my hand toward Pompoo, still clutching the handkerchief.

“Come here, Pompoo. His Majesty wants to make amends.”

“I don’t recall saying anything of the sort…”

“Shh. That’s right. You both apologize.”

“Puuu…”

Though still visibly upset, Pompoo eventually offered his tail, as if lowering his pride.

Watching this, Serdelius let out a dry laugh, clearly baffled.

Pompoo, having made his gesture, tapped his tail against the ground insistently, urging Serdelius to take it.

“Your Majesty, hurry and apologize.”

“Hmph. I’ve apologized fewer than five times in my life.”

“Then this will be the fifth.”

Fearing Pompoo might change his mind, I grabbed both his fluffy tail and Serdelius’ hand, forcing them into a handshake.

At least they seemed reconciled, which brought me some relief.

Meanwhile, Pompoo had already hopped away, flitting between flower beds. Watching him roll around on various flowers, intoxicated by their scents, a natural smile escaped me.

“How long do you plan to hold my hand, Empress?”

“Huh? Oh, um… Surprise.”

Thanks to Pompoo’s departure, I ended up tightly clasping Serdelius’ hand. The moment I realized this, my cheeks flushed bright red.

Stop it, heart. My racing pulse was solely due to Serdelius’ stunning appearance—I hadn’t imagined him this handsome.

The absence of photography technology in the Carlot Empire felt particularly unfortunate.

‘I should get someone to draw an illustration based on this face…’

My heart continued its erratic rhythm, blissfully unaware of my true intentions.

Fanning my burning cheeks to cool them down, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind to change the subject.

“Do you like cyclamen flowers?”

Serdelius, who had been staring at me intently, answered slowly.

“…At some point, I began to. It was the flower the empress once gifted me.”

“Ah, right…”

Finally snapping out of it, I muttered quietly to myself.

Cyclamen—the flower Brilline, the protagonist of A Common Girl Becomes Empress, had first given to Serdelius.

During their second meeting, Brilline handed him a single cyclamen bloom on a spring day bathed in golden sunlight.

She teased him about how the petals resembled hearts, her radiant smile capturing him completely. From then on, cyclamen became Serdelius’ favorite flower.

Perhaps that’s why the imperial garden was filled with so many cyclamens.

Watching Serdelius lost in memories, I realized I was gradually growing accustomed to this surreal and absurd situation.

Scenes and settings I had painstakingly written word by word were unfolding before my eyes—yet I felt no sense of alienation. Humans truly are creatures of adaptation.

“What aspect of Her Majesty made you fall for her?”

“A bold question. You’re the first to ask me that.”

“But the two of you loved each other deeply, didn’t you?”

Serdelius responded to my direct statement with a silent chuckle. Perhaps he’d never been asked such a blunt question before.

After stroking his chin and gathering his thoughts, he finally spoke.

“She possessed a unique charm absent in nobles—bold yet humble, ordinary yet possessing understated beauty.”

He answered more readily than I expected. Pretending ignorance, I probed further.

“But it didn’t strengthen imperial authority, did it? The empress had no family.”

“With all power already in my hands, what importance does the empress’s lineage hold?”

His confidence soared sky-high, but his words rang true. Serdelius had secured the strongest imperial authority in Carlot history.

Aside from the Solian duchy, which produced the first empress, no family dared influence the imperial household.

‘The lazy plot device I created somehow works after all.’

Even a single line in a novel—an extra’s narrative—becomes a ‘life’ in this world. In essence, everyone lives as the protagonist of their own story.

A supporting character in one tale might be the main character in another. Thousands, millions of relationships intertwine like a spiderweb.

‘Even characters not mentioned in the novel have their own stories. They simply weren’t highlighted.’

With a surprisingly serious expression, I gazed at Serdelius.

What must it have been like to live a life under everyone’s expectations from birth? While some might relish the spotlight, wouldn’t the weight of responsibility feel overwhelming?

Realizing this, I began to understand, just a little, how Serdelius had developed his personality.

“This is tough, so tough…”

“What did you just say, Empress?”

“Just muttering to myself. Oh! Pompoo! Be careful!”

His hearing was sharp. Just as I was about to close my mouth after Serdelius’ reaction, my eyes caught Pompoo flying toward a thorny bush.

I bolted upright and rushed over, but the accident had already occurred.

“Pooou, Pom!”

“You really… Look at all those thorns stuck in you.”

Pompoo, who had been happily rolling around in a tangle of vines, realized his body was covered in thorns and immediately leapt into the air.

In the brief moment I’d looked away, his white fur was now bristling with sharp thorns.

Tears welled up in Pompoo’s black-bean-like eyes.

Serdelius, who had followed behind unnoticed, tilted his head lazily upon seeing this.

“He looks like… a hedgehog. This seems manageable.”

“Pompoo, come here. How are we going to remove all these thorns?”

“Po, Pooh, Pu…”

“May I try?”

Serdelius extended his palm toward me with an indifferent expression.

Surely he didn’t plan to pluck out Pompoo’s fur along with the thorns?

Pompoo, sensing danger, frantically shook his head in protest. But with hundreds of thorns embedded, I doubted I could remove them all by myself.

“You’re not planning to shave off his fur with that knife, are you?”

“What kind of person do you think I am, Empress?”

He genuinely seemed perplexed, as if unaware of his reputation in the Carlot Empire.

Watching Pompoo resist vehemently, I sighed heavily and plopped down on the grass.

Then, I gestured for Serdelius to sit beside me.

Surprisingly, instead of reprimanding me for daring to beckon him, he obediently sat down and began removing the thorns.

“This is rather entertaining. A good way to pass time when there’s nothing else to do.”

“The emperor of the empire surely has plenty to occupy himself with.”

“Perhaps I’ll add this to my daily schedule.”

“Porong…”

Pompoo, who had initially resisted with his fur standing on end, began purring softly under our gentle touch. Or perhaps it was more accurate to call it “porong-ing.”

It seemed he’d realized Serdelius meant no harm. He was like a mix between a cat and a puppy.

“Ah, we’re almost done. Thankfully, it’s going faster than I expected.”

“A bigger problem seems imminent, though.”

“Huh? What do you mean…?”

As Serdelius removed the final thorn, he pointed upward with his index finger.

Following the direction of his finger, I looked up to see ominous dark clouds swallowing the once-blue sky.

It looked like rain was about to pour down at any moment…

Wait. Rain?

“Huh?”

Drip, drip. Pourrrrrrrrr.

As if my imagination had materialized, thick raindrops filled the air. An endless downpour cascaded from the sky, now fully cloaked in dark clouds.

Oh, seriously. Can nothing go right for me?

Holding onto Serdelius’ soaked wrist, I shouted urgently:

“Run, Your Majesty!”