“Your Majesty, is something wrong?”

Banther had grown more perceptive. In his words, he could gauge the emperor’s emotional state just by glancing at the documents his superior had handled.

In the past, he might have fretted over why his lord was acting this way. Not anymore. There was only one possible reason, so Banther spoke without hesitation.

“Did you have a quarrel?”

At the mention of a lover’s spat, the emperor raised his eyes, which had been cast downward. He shook his head.

“…No.”

“But, Your Majesty, you certainly look the part.”

“I almost wish it were that. Then I’d at least have the option to apologize.”

Rohayden leaned his forehead against his hand, his expression dark.

Mail had been acting strange lately. It might have been too subtle for others to notice, but to him, it was obvious. During meals or conversations, Mail often seemed lost in deep thought. When he asked her what was wrong, she never answered.

Even when he secretly approached Rose, her maid, to inquire, the results were the same. He couldn’t figure out what was weighing on Mail so heavily.

Judging by the atmosphere, it didn’t seem to be a happy matter. There were moments when he sensed that she was truly struggling. It was frustrating enough to make him feel like his chest would burst.

“Why doesn’t she lean on me? Am I that unreliable? Or worse, is it because of me? Did I unknowingly do something wrong…?”

“Please calm yourself.”

Banther tried to soothe his superior, inwardly clicking his tongue. Asking was a mistake. The emperor, newly in love, had developed an unfortunate habit of overthinking at every opportunity. What Banther privately called “digging a trench.”

“I don’t know the full story, but why not wait a bit longer? It’s no longer unrequited love. Show some patience.”

“You don’t understand…”

“Understand what?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Why are you bringing me into this?”

“You need to experience it. Then you’ll see how easily the word ‘patience’ gets stuck in your throat.”

Banther was baffled. Why take it out on me? It’s not like I gave bad advice. He silently adopted the narrow-minded notion that conversing with someone in love was always a mistake.

“Hah…”

“I’ll excuse myself from the office.”

“Cancel my afternoon schedule.”

“What?”

Why was he suddenly saying this? As Banther reeled from the abrupt shift in conversation, the emperor had already risen from his seat. Before Banther could even try to stop him, Rohayden hastily threw on an outer garment and strode toward the door. Banther’s eyes widened in shock.

“Your Majesty!”

“There’s nothing important on the agenda, is there?”

“Today is the audience with the Marquis of Sojova. You know how petty he is!”

“Tell him I’m indisposed.”

“Your Majes—!”

The door shut. Banther’s outstretched hand found no target. He stared blankly at the closed door before letting his arm fall limp. He braced himself against the desk, utterly drained.

“What even is this…”

Love. What is it, to bring me to tears?

Banther doubted his ability to endure the relentless persistence of the Marquis of Sojova alone. He gazed distantly out the window, newly disillusioned with his job. The bright daylight only served to amplify his gloom. 

‘Maybe I should just quit.’ In his late twenties, Lord Banther was revisiting his rebellious streak.

***

“Mail.”

Startled, Mail turned to see Rohayden standing beside her. She had been gripping the windowsill, lost in thought. How long had he been there? His disheveled hair and rumpled clothes suggested he had run all the way. Without thinking, she reached out to tidy him. Halfway, his hand caught hers.

“….”

“I can’t wait any longer.”

“For what…?”

“Tell me.”

“…”

“I want to hurt in your place, struggle in your place, suffer in your place. But I can’t do anything if I don’t know.”

“……”

“Why won’t you say anything?”

The emperor pleaded with his eyes. Mail’s heart sank. She had been so preoccupied with her own troubles that she hadn’t spared a moment to consider his feelings. But when she saw the unease in his gaze, she suddenly regretted it.

‘He must have been so worried.’

If their roles were reversed, she would have felt the same. While she had tried not to let it show, it was clear her efforts to mask her feelings had failed—especially with him. He wasn’t just anyone; he was her lover, someone who made it seem like his entire existence was for her alone.

With her hand still held in his, Mail gazed quietly up at the emperor.

***

She had wrestled with her thoughts for days, feeling drained the entire time. If this torment had dragged on any longer, she might have crumbled under its weight.

What unexpectedly saved her before she reached that point was Riela.

“I had a dream. It was about visiting the palace. I think I met His Majesty there.”

Since becoming aware of her regression, Mail had been uncertain.

‘Was I the only one to escape the past tragedy and return? Or did everyone come back?’

If she had traveled alone, then the tragedy still existed—like a parallel world where only she had escaped, leaving her kingdom behind as nothing but ash and ruins.

If that were true, Mail couldn’t imagine ever being happy. It would feel like a crime. How could she live blissfully while everyone else remained trapped in misery? If she ever tried, the faces of the dead would surely haunt her dreams.

But what if it were the latter?

If time itself had rewound, then the tragedy never truly happened. Her father’s death, her nanny’s death, the countless lives lost, the fall of her kingdom—none of it would exist.

Mail found a glimmer of hope in something Riela had said in the past.

She had mentioned dreaming of visiting the palace and meeting the emperor there. And coincidentally, on that visit, the group had indeed encountered the emperor.

At the time, Mail thought nothing of it, dismissing it as a coincidence. But now, it stood out as a ray of hope. Could it have been a fleeting fragment of memory?

Perhaps, even if no one else was fully conscious of the rewound time, faint and scattered fragments of their past experiences might linger within them. If everyone carried those fragments, Mail felt she could finally bring her internal conflict to an end.

***

“Van.”

“…Talk to me. About anything.”

“Can you wait for me?”

The emperor’s breath caught. He asked, “What… does that mean?”

“If I promise to return, will you let me go?”

His eyes wavered. His expression betrayed disbelief. Without realizing it, he tightened his grip on Mail’s hand, only to release it abruptly. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Didn’t you say… you wouldn’t leave?”

“…”

“You said you’d stay. By my side. You promised.”

“I want to stay with you,” Mail said calmly. “That’s why I have to go.”

The emperor couldn’t understand. Her words made no sense to him. The only thing he could piece together was that her behavior over the past few days must be connected to what she was saying now.

“I want to be happy with you, Van. Without pain or hardship—just happy.”

“…”

“To do that, I need to go. There’s something I have to confirm.”

“Mail.”

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

A silence fell between them. Her steady green eyes betrayed no doubt, contrasting starkly with his shaken gaze. Gradually, his grip loosened. Faced with her unwavering determination, he could only say one thing.

“I’ll count the days. Until you return. Every day.”

It sounded like a sulky complaint.

Mail smiled faintly.