I’m the Only One Who Can Put the Tyrant To Sleep Chapter 132 - Side Story Chapter 2

The next day, I went to Katana’s lab right around lunchtime and sprawled out on her sofa. I ignored her look of deep annoyance.

Guilt. He looked guilty. Caesar’s expression from yesterday wouldn’t leave my mind. I tried to think of other explanations—better ones—but nothing made sense.

Is he really tired of me? Have we already hit the dull stage? After just one year?

After leaving Caesar’s office without a word, I’d tried my best to think rationally.

He must have his reasons. Maybe there’s something he just can’t tell me.

That’s what I told myself while waiting for him in our bedroom. I wanted to talk things through and smooth out whatever awkwardness had formed between us.

But Caesar never came to bed that night. I even stayed up till dawn, fighting sleep, waiting for him to come in.

In the morning, he simply said he’d spent the night in his office. Which, frankly, was no different from saying he didn’t want to talk to me.

Just to be sure, I even asked Duke Bryden if Caesar was truly that busy—busy enough to work through the night. But the answer I got only made my heart sink further.

“Not exactly… His Majesty seems to be looking for more work. Tasks that don’t even need to be done right away.”

In other words, he wasn’t avoiding me because he was busy—he was making himself busy just to avoid me.

“Ughhh.”

I groaned into the sofa cushion. Katana turned to look at me with an exhausted face.

“How long are you planning to bother me, Evelyn? You’re an empress now, yet you’re lying around like that? So undignified.”

“Until you play with me.”

“Seriously.”

Katana shook her head. Just a year ago, she was the one throwing tantrums while I comforted her. Now it was the other way around. I stared blankly at her back and muttered,

“Do you think I could ever become a mage too?”

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“I dunno. It just looks fun when you do it.”

Since unexpectedly becoming empress, my life had been a whirlwind of busyness. A different kind of busy than when I’d been a maid.

As a member of the royal family, I had so much to learn and adapt to. Day after day of dull, repetitive routines.

After a year of that, I felt a touch of emptiness—like I was living life as it came, not as I wanted.

I never wanted to be empress. I just wanted to be with Caesar.

Maybe it was because life had become too peaceful. There were no desperate goals left—no rewriting fate, no helping Caesar claim the throne, no dealing with Ian. All of that was behind me.

While I was lost in thought, there came a knock.

“Lady Katana, it’s Whedon.”

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Whedon entered, greeting us with the same polite formality as always. It felt almost like déjà vu when he sat across from me and began sorting through documents.

“Whedon,” I said after watching him for a moment.

“Do you like working here at the tower?”

“…Pardon?”

Whedon blinked in confusion at the unexpected question. Katana turned around, looking exasperated.

“Evelyn, don’t bother my assistant. If you’re bored, take a nap.”

“I’m not bothering him. I’m genuinely curious.”

Whedon Clark had joined the Magic Tower after Katana became its master, thanks to her reforms.

Katana had completely changed the tower. No more ranks, noble lineage, wealth, or gender bias—only ability mattered. That’s how a commoner like Whedon had proven his talent and risen to become her assistant.

“Well… it wouldn’t be true to say it’s fun all the time,” Whedon said earnestly, “but whenever my research makes progress, it’s very rewarding.”

“Rewarding, huh? Wouldn’t you prefer researching on your own, then? You must regret becoming Katana’s assistant.”

“No, not at all.”

His reply came fast—and firm.

“I’ve never regretted it. I’m learning a lot from Lady Katana, and she treats me very kindly…”

“Kindly? When she makes you do all that work?”

I motioned toward the mountain of papers stacked on the table. Whedon let out an awkward cough.

“It’s all work that helps me improve, so I don’t mind.”

“Huh… is that so?”

He looked a bit embarrassed, but I didn’t think he was lying. He was defending Katana with surprising sincerity.

I narrowed my eyes at him curiously. Katana, clearly sensing where this was going, called out,

“Evelyn, stop bothering him.”

“I said I’m not.”

“Just being here is bothering him.”

“Well, can’t help that.”

Her tone clearly meant get lost, but I pretended not to notice and sank deeper into the sofa instead, quietly watching Whedon as he worked.

After about half an hour, Whedon gathered his remaining documents and stood up.

“Um, then I’ll take my leave now.”

“I’ll go with you.”

He blinked in surprise as I stood up too, stopping him mid-bow.

“Pardon?”

“I was just about to leave anyway.”

“Evelyn, you…”

“It’s true.”

Katana gave me a suspicious look, but I only smiled innocently. Then I hurried out with Whedon.

As always, my guards and maids quickly fell into step beside me. Whedon looked a little uneasy.

“Your Majesty, I actually need to go this way—”

“Want to talk for a bit first?”

“Ah… of course, Your Majesty.”

Together we descended from the tower, but instead of heading to the palace carriage, I turned toward the garden below.

I waved the guards and maids away to give us some space, then asked cautiously,

“Hey.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Do you… like Katana?”

The moment the words left my mouth, Whedon’s jaw dropped. Then his whole face flushed red—from his cheeks to his ears, his neck, even his trembling fingertips. If I could see his scalp, I was sure that would be red too.

“I, uh… I—”

“You’re not very good at lying, are you?”

“….”

Whedon lowered his head.

“I didn’t join the tower with any… impure intentions. At first, it was just admiration. But over time, I couldn’t help… developing feelings.”

He rambled awkwardly, then swallowed hard.

“But I’m not trying to be greedy.”

“Why not?”

“Pardon?”

“Why not be a little greedy? I think Katana likes you too.”

“No, absolutely not. I couldn’t possibly…”

“Have you told her how you feel?”

“N-no, of course not!”

Whedon shook his head vigorously.

“Why not? Because she’s the Tower Master?”

“That’s part of it, but also…”

He hesitated, then added quietly,

“I turned eighteen this year.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve already completed my coming-of-age ceremony.”

Then I understood—and let out a small sigh. Katana was fifteen this year. Still three years away from adulthood.

“So it’s because Katana isn’t of age yet?”

“…Yes. Even confessing my feelings would feel like a burden to her. I plan to wait at least three more years.”

Well, that made sense. A mere three-year gap, but the difference between being a minor and an adult was significant.

My opinion of Whedon rose on the spot.  He was more decent than I’d thought. I patted his shoulder lightly.

“Your Majesty, about what we talked about today…”

Still blushing, Whedon looked at me earnestly.

“Could you please keep it a secret?”

 

 

****

 

 

 

At that very moment, Caesar was on his way to the Magic Tower to see Evelyn. He intended to properly apologize for what had happened the day before—and, whether it went well or not, to at least explain himself.

It was an embarrassing truth, one he could barely bring himself to say out loud, but every time he remembered the hurt look on Evelyn’s face, his chest tightened with guilt.

I’ll apologize, no matter what. Maybe… maybe she’ll understand.

With that heavy determination, Caesar arrived at the tower. As he and Alvin were about to enter, he spotted a few familiar faces waiting near the garden—Evelyn’s maids.

When he shifted his gaze slightly, he caught sight of a hem of fabric hidden among the bushes at the edge of the garden. Even from the glimpse of the dress, he knew it was Evelyn.

He motioned for the maids not to bow and quietly approached her, a bouquet of flowers—his apology gift—hidden behind his back.

But as he drew closer, Caesar saw something that made him freeze in his tracks.

Standing across from Evelyn was an unfamiliar young man.

“Could you please keep it a secret?”

The man’s face was flushed red, his voice trembling as if he were confessing his feelings.