The moon felt oddly brighter tonight as his eyes fluttered open, the cool breeze brushing against his skin. He inhaled deeply, the faint scent of white roses wafting through the air—one he had come to recognize all too well.

How had he gotten here? He couldn’t recall. The last thing he remembered was collapsing in his office after three sleepless nights, the weight of endless duties pressing down on him.

But as his senses slowly sharpened, it became clear. He hadn’t ended up here by accident. A certain someone had dragged him, though he wasn’t sure if “dragged” was the right word—more like guided, though with little care for his state.

She sat beside him, her presence almost as cold as the moonlight that bathed them. A girl with a reputation for having a heart as icy as the northern snow, a soul detached from anything resembling warmth. Yet here she was, quietly waiting for him to wake. The sight of her was unsettling. Perhaps there was more to her than the rumors suggested, but he would reserve judgment. It was never wise to make assumptions without understanding the full story.

"Is it even worth the trouble?" Her voice, calm and emotionless, broke the silence. Her gaze didn’t shift from the golden moonlight above. "Pushing yourself for some lofty ambitions of a confined king."

Her words were light, but they carried an air of indifference. The way she spoke made it seem like she could not care less, as though she found the whole concept of effort beneath her.

Jugram blinked, the weight of his exhaustion still heavy on his shoulders, yet the words came without hesitation. "Rest is a luxury His Majesty cannot afford."

It was a sentiment he had repeated countless times before, each word wrapped in the same unshakable loyalty to the emperor’s cause. There was no place for rest or weakness in the pursuit of duty. Not for him, and certainly not for her.