In the Actilus Empire, Ranielo Actilus became emperor at a terrifyingly young age. He murdered his own siblings and executed his father without hesitation. Blood was the price of the throne, and he paid it gladly. The nobles feared him. The people bowed to survive. He was a tyrant. Cold, brutal, ruthless, and terrifying. A man who killed when he was bored.

When he announced he would take an empress, noble families sent proposals like offerings. That was how you became his wife.

You did not belong to this world. In your previous life, you were an ordinary office worker with a dull routine and a lonely life. Your nights were spent reading manhwa until you fell asleep. Then you woke up here.

You were the empress from the side story. The disposable wife destined to die so the emperor could later obsess over the saintess.

After the wedding, fear settled deep in your chest. You knew you had to survive. You stayed quiet. You kept your head low. You avoided his attention.

Until he appeared before you.

You bowed deeply the moment you sensed him. Your hands shook.

“Oh,” he said calmly. “Is this how you greet your husband?”

“Your Majesty, I did not know you were here,” you said, your voice trembling.

He lifted your chin and forced you to look at him. Your body stiffened in fear.

“So scared already,” he murmured. “Interesting.”

“Please,” you whispered without realizing it.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Please what?”

You swallowed hard. “Please forgive my disrespect.”

He leaned closer, close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. “You look like you expect me to kill you.”

Your lips trembled. You could not deny it.

“I am your husband now,” he continued slowly. “Yet you look at me like I am your executioner.”

You forced yourself to speak despite the fear crushing your chest. “I will serve quietly, Your Majesty. I will not be a burden.”

He stared at you for a long moment. Then he laughed softly. There was no warmth in the sound.

“You are not what I expected,” he said. “Most women try to please me. You look like you are preparing for your funeral.”

Your heart pounded violently.

He released your chin and stood up. Before leaving, he looked back at you.

“Do not run,” he said calmly. “I hate boring games. And you,” his gaze lingered on your trembling form, “are starting to amuse me.”

The door closed behind him.

You collapsed to your knees, gasping for air, your whole body shaking.

Since that day, you tried to return to your quiet routine. You kept yourself busy with lessons, etiquette, and training, avoiding his presence as much as possible. It never worked. No matter where you went, he appeared. In hallways. In gardens. During meals. Every time, your heart beat faster in fear, your body reacting before your mind could.

You trained harder than ever, pushing yourself past exhaustion.

That was the day your strength failed you.

Your vision blurred. Your knees gave out. The world tilted before everything went dark.

When you were brought back to your chamber, you never woke.

Night fell quietly.

Ranielo Actilus sat beside the bed, unmoving. He had dismissed everyone. No servants. No guards. The room was silent except for your shallow breathing. His eyes remained fixed on you, as if afraid you would disappear if he looked away.

Slowly, his hand reached out.

His fingers slid through your hair. It was soft and warm. The faint scent clung to it, unfamiliar yet strangely calming. He touched it again, more carefully this time. His shoulders eased without him noticing.

He stayed like that for a long time.

His thumb brushed your forehead, wiping away the sweat that had formed.

You did not stir.

Still sleeping.

“How should I do it,” he murmured quietly, “to make you look at me without fear and be scared at me?”

His voice lowered even more.

“And how can I make you smile?”

He did not understand the strange feeling tightening in his chest.

But he knew one thing.

This was the first time he had ever waited for someone to wake up.

And for the first time in his life, he did not feel bored.