Entering a novel I was reading is truly a common setting for a protagonist in fiction.

The opening where I woke up one day to find myself in someone else’s body has now been exactly four years. Shasha, who now lives and breathes in a story filled with love and conspiracies, quietly picked up clothing items that someone had carelessly left behind.

“Protagonist my as$.”

Even though there are maids to help with undressing and changing clothes, why does this man always leave his shed skin behind? Does he secretly hold fashion shows at dawn?

This man who is supposedly the female protagonist’s brother.

I reincarnated as a daughter of a humble viscount family, but at that time, I had gotten hopeful because I became a maid in the female protagonist’s house. Like a cliché, I had knowledge of the future, and in a world where science hadn’t developed, I possessed the knowledge of modern civilization, so surely there must be a reason for my incarnation.

Making the original work truly “original” and writing a new story, or if not that, at least being the key to correcting some wrong fate or becoming the protagonist’s helper…… I thought it was quite plausible.

……Yes. Reality wasn’t plausible at all.

What meaning does the title of nobility have for a daughter of a humble viscount family? I thought I’d at least drawn a silver spoon by not being a commoner, but a useless family name was worse than having none at all.

The reality of a maid’s life made those times when I worked night shifts for minimum wage seem laughable in comparison. My body ached so much that I truly had no time to think about the original work. After spending a day physically learning why rich people’s homes are always spotlessly clean, all I desperately wanted was just a soft bed.

What did I care about the dark conspiracies looming over this world? I thought being incarnated as a noble meant living a comfortable life being waited on, but instead, I was the one doing all the waiting.

After lamenting like that, I finally resigned myself.

Of course, to be honest, despite all that…… for about a year, I consistently harbored hope thinking “maybe?” since it was before the original work truly began. And the one who finally shattered that thread-like expectation was none other than the owner of these shed skins that Shasha was picking up.

Edgar Friedrich van Oz.

Befitting the eldest son of the prestigious Oz ducal family, even his name is excessively grand with a middle name after the previous generation’s duke who was hailed as a hero.

The problem was that he was the female protagonist’s biological brother, and because of the blinding halo of wealth and honor without any deficiency, the person himself wasn’t visible. If the phrase “all that glitters is not gold” were personified, it would be like him.

Usually, a protagonist’s sibling (whether biological or step-sibling) either has both beauty and intelligence, becoming the protagonist’s strong support, or has both beauty and the ability to cause frustration, becoming the final boss or target of revenge—I thought that was the rule in web novels.

But experiencing it firsthand, I felt foolish for suspecting things like “he acted careless but was actually the mastermind,” or “he wasn’t highlighted in the original work, but turned out to be capable.”

The black back of his head buried in the pillow was disheveled like a magpie’s nest. Shasha’s smile, which had been drawn like a capitalist’s at the sight of fingerprint-marked glasses and various books scattered haphazardly on the sheets, twitched slightly.

“Sha……there, it’s……okay.”

Far from being an important supporter or villain, distant from the position of a caring family member or a sister-complex brother. Shasha found it difficult to maintain the smooth expression of a skilled employee in the face of such real-brother-like pathetic behavior, mumbling incomprehensible sleep talk.

‘How can he be like this……’

It’s not like they have different bl＊＊d. The duke and duchess have a good relationship. Despite having the same parents as his sister, Edgar wasn’t noticeably intelligent, nor did he have innate talents like swordsmanship or magic like his genius swordswoman sister.

Even his appearance was just relatively handsome in a somewhat ordinary way compared to the female protagonist who took all the good looks. It’s like the difference between a goddess and a human.

Looking at his long legs stretched out on the wide bed, he seemed definitely tall, but because he always craned his neck to read books, his basic posture was always stooped rather than the elegant, noble posture. Because of this, his height didn’t seem like much of an advantage. His seemingly broad shoulders and back only appeared that way when he was lying down; for the same reason, they weren’t very noticeable otherwise.

The more she examined him, the more incomplete and lacking he seemed. If he had grown up harboring some inferiority complex from being compared to the perfect female protagonist, that would be understandable, but the duke and duchess loved them perfectly equally, and Edgar grew up happily in a loving family, failing to even secure the role of a stupid comic relief villain.

From the beginning to the end of the novel, he just occasionally appeared in a disheveled state at random times, wagging like a large dog meeting its owner, and then one day after the female protagonist became a duchess, he married his lover (whose existence wasn’t even mentioned, showing how insignificant his role was)—truly a character with less importance than a food vendor extra at a street stall, despite his position.

You know that episode that noble male and female protagonists always go through at least once? The commoner market experience. The protagonists with obvious wealth and nobility dripping from them, with inhuman beauty, being called handsome young man or pretty miss by the good-natured extras selling chicken skewers. Perhaps their lines might be more meaningful, I thought.

Come to think of it, even his marriage wasn’t featured in a separate episode or side story, but was merely mentioned in a single line of dialogue when the female protagonist returned from her brother’s wedding and said, ‘It was a really enjoyable wedding.’ End of story.

At this point, wouldn’t it have been better if the female protagonist had been an only child? Perhaps he was born and lived solely for that one line of the female protagonist’s enjoyment.

Surely to him, he himself would be the protagonist of his world, but experiencing it firsthand, it really seemed like he was created just for that one line. In other words, he was a bit…… no, quite a lot, very useless person.

Shasha’s evaluation of him became extremely harsh as he became her reality and someone she had to serve.

When reading the novel, since the female protagonist boasted such a distinctive presence that the author described it as a one-woman show of an overpowered female lead, it seemed like the family was just there for show, but facing reality, the balance was completely broken.

Experiencing why he always appeared disheveled, it was simply because he was sloppy and his attire was never neat, and even though she took extra care of him to make up for it, he was a master who required a lot of effort but gave no reward.

A man who slept comfortably, ignoring the implicit breakfast time of the ducal family. Despite being the eldest son, he was neither the heir nor did he seem to have any intention of serving the country after graduating from the academy, unlike other noble youths who were pushed out of succession.

Would he know that his sister recently resolved a small misunderstanding with the male protagonist, who was none other than a great mage, and had a romantic moment in their home garden at night, having a conversation that lacked all anti-magic resistance?

After that, she went through a serious period unable to hold a sword for a while due to a curse from the villainous prince, who was also a sub-male protagonist. This man couldn’t even imagine it. (Shasha also only knew because she accidentally overheard the female protagonist’s monologue, but still.)

It felt strange how he lived such a small and insignificant life, as if he were the calm eye of a storm, ignoring the stormy situations around him. It felt like people in the same space were divided into horror movie and melodrama based on perspective and viewpoint.

“Mmm……”

As if the critical gaze had become an alarm, Shasha put aside her lengthening disrespectful thoughts at the sleepy sound indicating he was about to wake up, and quietly stepped back, displaying the perfect neatness of an employee.

And just as she was about to vocally wake her master, she was momentarily rendered speechless by the man turning from his prone position to a proper posture.

“This is really too much……”

The center of his groin, prominently announcing his body’s awakening, was truly reality itself.

This novel was mainly about the power struggles between nobles and the imperial family…… Literally a story full of nerve-wracking confrontations where bl＊＊d and flesh flew, with swordsmanship and magic bursting everywhere, a large-scale novel I entered into…….

Why is only this part a different genre?

This couldn’t be anything but a dream.

In other words, though it shouldn’t be reality, my fingertips touching the light brown hair trembled embarrassingly. Unlike usual, the well-textured hair that hung long without being tied up wrapped softly around my hand. Even if it was a dream, it was an intensely good sensation. Just as I had always imagined.

“Young master.”

Shasha was looking up at Edgar with a relaxed expression, unlike her usual businesslike face that never crossed the line. Beyond her, the familiar background of my room was visible.

Myself sitting on the bed where I always sleep, and Shasha positioned between my legs. Sweet voice. Heat rushed to my lower body at the close contact.

“This is too, too…… close.”

“Do you dislike it?”

“How could I dislike it!”

“……I like it.”

It was probably the quite adorable tone she had used with the pet dog kept at the ducal family some time ago.

The purple eyes full of affection, round and round, and the upturned corners of her mouth revealing glimpses of her neat teeth were certainly things I had remembered from that fleeting moment and recreated in this dream.

‘Because there’s no way Shasha would make such an expression for me.’

Shasha laughed softly at the sight of his ears burning with elation and his eyes reddened with melancholy.