I Don't Want To Do a Romantic Comedy With a Villain! - Chapter 63

Episode 63

Suddenly, even if asked to speak, there was nothing to say and nothing he wanted to say.

Moreover, the bed and pillow were so soft that he didn’t even feel like getting up, which was awkward.

Furthermore, even if threatened, he didn’t feel intimidated, as her trembling hands wouldn’t be able to hit him properly.

Tedric awkwardly placed both hands on his thigh and blinked his eyes.

“Let me ask you a question first. Answer me honestly.”

Min-joo looked sternly at Tedric, clicking the revolver. Her pink eyes glowed brightly in the candlelight.

“What does the position of emperor mean to you?”

“Do I have to answer? Let me exercise my right to remain silent.”

“I said answer honestly.”

“Didn’t I honestly exercise my right to remain silent?”

Damn prince-like attitude.

It’s something that’s supposed to be good for oneself, but instead of accepting it graciously, he’s upset and turning the dinner table over.

Talking in a relationship where trust hasn’t been built didn’t seem effective.

Min-joo thought that she needed to gain Tedric’s trust first, so she casually rested her chin on her hand and sat up.

“Then why don’t you ask first? How about we ask each other questions and answer?”

“Why go to such lengths?”

“You must have questions for me too. If I answer honestly first, you can do the same.”

Tedric seemed to hesitate, closing his mouth and rolling his eyes. The time spent in contemplation wasn’t long.

How busy his little mind is.

Min-joo looked down at his small head and chuckled.

“Why does Min-joo want to make Ceteran an emperor?”

“For once, you’re not beating around the bush and asking directly. First, it’s to bring peace to everyone.”

He ran his fingers through his light blond hair, revealing his neat forehead.

“Am I not capable of being a good emperor?”

“It’s my turn to ask a question.”

Tedric looked at Min-joo dumbfoundedly, then nodded. Min-joo tapped her cheek with the hand resting on her chin and asked.

“What does being an emperor mean to you?”

Tedric answered without hesitation. Despite saying he’d exercise his right to remain silent, it seemed he had already decided on the answer in his mind.

“It’s something that should naturally happen.”

“Can you explain a bit more?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Don’t you feel burdened or obsessed? The reason you want the emperor’s position even to the point of dying could be due to brainwashing and obsession.”

“It’s my turn to ask. Am I not the subject fit to be emperor? Looking into the future, even from your perspective.”

Min-joo couldn’t meet his gentle and softly glowing pink eyes, so she turned her head.

The wall, whether marble or paint, felt dull.

“Honestly, yes. You’ve practiced politics that fill the bellies of nobles. It’s as if nobles are the only ones who matter. I don’t see that making you a good emperor.”

“If there was a reason?”

Min-joo glanced at Tedric with narrowed eyes. Tedric, as if choosing his words carefully, turned his gaze away and eventually fell silent.

Min-joo sat up, hunched over, her hair cascading over her shoulders. Her clothes felt damp.

“Even if there was a reason, in the end, the people starve and wander the streets.”

“You won’t even give a chance for redemption?”

“Do you need a chance for redemption?”

Tedric didn’t answer but smiled. Min-joo leaned on her knees, looking at him.

“Why do you want to be an emperor? Why are you so obsessed?”

“…Because if I don’t become emperor, my life will be a failure. I’ve lived to become emperor since I stepped into this world. I’m the one who should be emperor.”

A biting remark lingered on the tip of her tongue. But she didn’t spit it out. Min-joo held her breath, stifling her words, and spoke another sentence.

The guard was lowered as one question was answered for one, so there was no reason to keep it up.

“Doesn’t it feel burdensome? Not becoming emperor opens up endless possibilities of what you could do, it’s not much different from isolating yourself.”

A brown coat lay on the bed, legs folded, feet touching the floor.

Tedric smiled comfortably, his pink eyes slowly closing and opening.

She could feel his chest rising and falling through his open shirt.

“Is it strange for a prince to become an emperor? Min-joo, this is my life and my goal. Remember, the easier it is to cut, the more likely you’ll end up just like that.”

“I want to help. And how would I know what your life is like? If you don’t like making judgments arbitrarily, then tell me what kind of life you’ve lived.”

Tedric chuckled. The soft sighs, the corners of his mouth rising, the relaxed eyes were gentle.

She could sense weariness and numbness in his face.

She idly rolled the gun in her hand. The warm metal melted into her skin. It felt a bit comforting.

“Will this conversation not be recorded, Doctor?”

Tedric murmured. Min-joo felt as if she had been submerged in champagne, her gaze locked in his pink eyes.

Moist and limp like soaked cotton, the tone was no different from usual but subtly subdued.

“Yeah, I don’t know where to talk about it, and I don’t have any ideas.”

“Depending on who you ask, the answer will be different: the poor will say they don’t know, the commoners will say he’s a well-bred crown prince who will become emperor despite his unfortunate circumstances, and the nobles will say yes.”

Tedric bent his arm and removed the thick coat, letting it fall under the bed. Min-joo just stared at the coat spread out on the floor.

“My father suffered from mental illness, and my mother, weak in health, died early. They called me an unreliable prince. I may have some integrity, but I fear I might go mad like my father or die young like my mother, hoping for death like her.”

Min-joo briefly considered if such a setup existed, then dismissed it as a useless thought and shook her head.

Tedric looked up at the bed’s ceiling. The wooden ceiling, devoid of light, seemed dim and somber. He reached out to touch the ceiling but stopped himself; it was too high.

“It’s all about me. And the me I’ve seen is nothing but a worthless prince using evil to survive being tossed around.”

“Aren’t you overly self-pitying? Besides, that doesn’t make your wrongdoings disappear.”

“My father couldn’t hold onto his sanity for even a day, and my mother, who died early and whose face I can’t even remember, and a new stepmother who uses all sorts of tricks to dethrone me and make her son emperor—how can I not be tossed around?”

Min-joo tapped her cheek with her hand as she replied.

“Her Majesty the Empress passed away when Your Highness was three, and the current Empress has been trying to make Prince Ceteran an emperor for 23 years. Why are you so insistent on becoming emperor?”

Tedric sneered, his gaze at Min-joo mixed with pity and disdain.

“Your casualness and arrogance are astounding. Think carefully, Min-joo. My sister is weak and easily sick. What will happen to me and my sister if I give up the throne?”

The current Empress, Nelsie, wouldn’t be likely to look after them kindly.

Min-joo instantly understood his intentions and was horrified by her narrow-mindedness. It was such a foolish thing to say.

“You’re just trying to stay alive. Even if you hand over the throne, there’s no guarantee you’ll be safe.”

“The Empress is greedy and doesn’t hesitate to commit wrongdoings to achieve her goals. I’ve already faced numerous threats to my life. Do you really think I’ll be safe if I abdicate?”

To Ceteran, she was an excellent mother. Strict and oppressive, but willing to do anything for her children’s happiness. To Tedric, she was an obstacle to his happiness.

Min-joo couldn’t find the words and fell silent. Whatever she said wouldn’t be a comfort to him.

“…If the defeated nations hadn’t surrendered to drugs, we would’ve had to kill them. Because they dreamt of independence, the nobles pressured me to kill the powerful and satisfy the nobles to keep them alive. There was no other way.”

Tedric spoke as if he had heard that method from someone else. Min-joo was puzzled but decided to move on for now.

“You won’t grant independence?”

“It might happen in the future. But not now. I’m… too weak.”

Tedric buried his head in the pillow as if recalling something. There was a bitterness in his faint smile.

“Nobles act based on their interests. If they were asked to release a slave they love, I’d be dead in an instant. The Empress is eagerly waiting for such a situation.”

He buried his face in his knees.

Min-joo could infer the meaning behind his words.

“All my actions are for my safety and power. Becoming emperor is just an extension of that.”

“Did you plan to redeem yourself by becoming emperor? By increasing your power to the extent of controlling the nobles and doing what you want?”

“Well, I’m just a good listener. My intentions don’t matter.”

Tedric chuckled lazily. His small laugh indicated to Min-joo that he was indeed laughing.

But there was something strange. A good listener? Tedric?

Could he be in a position to obey someone’s orders?

But who could give orders to Tedric, who used everything around him as a tool?

Min-joo shook her head, thinking it was absurd.

Furthermore, as she realized that Tedric was not a simple villain, she felt a little embarrassed about cutting him off so recklessly.

Tedric whispered affectionately in a low voice.

“Don’t see me as a good person, Min-joo. I just want to become emperor for myself.”

Min-joo glanced at Tedric. He was looking at her.

Their eyes met through her long black hair.

Even that felt embarrassing, and she wanted to run away.

“Why did you attack Vehen’s household?”

“It was a lesson. I became powerful enough to openly attack a duke’s house, so they should refrain from meddling further. They looked like they were stirring up a hornet’s nest.”

A disappointed chuckle.

Although all laughs seemed similar, when she blocked her sight and focused on her hearing, she could somewhat distinguish his laughter.

Fidgeting with invisible toes, Min-joo asked.

“Is your relationship with the Empress that bad?”

“What have you been listening to? I’ve been threatened by the Empress since I was a child. I even harbored thoughts of revenge.”

Yes, he lived a life where he had no choice but to assassinate the Empress.

To survive, to repay the threats he received.

That’s why he killed his enemies.

“Still, don’t harm her. Ethically and for the Emperor’s sake.”

“Well, I can’t give a definite answer.”

As Min-joo didn’t continue speaking, silence filled the room. Despite Chichen likely being downstairs, not a sound could be heard. The rustling sound from beside seemed louder than usual. The sound of Tedric burying his head in the pillow, tossing and turning, the fabric rustling.

Thunk, his calf touched hers.

Startled, Min-joo lifted her head, only to find Tedric now sitting up, facing her. His pink eyes, usually inscrutable, now held emotions.

Min-joo could read those emotions.

“Are you going to judge me as a mere mortal?”

“Someone who wants to …… not die.”

“What if I refuse?”

Hope. His eyes held hope.

Hope for a place where he could let his guard down, someone he could rely on without betrayal. The hope reflected in his eyes was for a person to call his own.

Min-joo nodded.

“I’ll persuade you until you listen.”

“You’re quite stubborn. But… I quite like you.”

Tedric approached. The indentation of the mattress sinking under his feet could be felt.

“In a future where I don’t become Emperor, what kind of life will I live?”

Min-joo reached out towards his disheveled blonde hair. The strands felt like silk, like delicate tufts of thread.

Tedric leaned into her touch without pushing her away.

Was merely listening to his story enough for Tedric, or was this also a test? Min-joo couldn’t tell.

Brushing aside his light blonde hair, Min-joo spoke softly.

“A happy life. Living without feeling threatened, doing everything you wanted, living comfortably.”

She hoped for that.

Without positivity or negativity, Tedric, who had merely looked on before, leaned into Min-joo’s hand and murmured lazily.

“Let’s forget about today. Our conversation, the future you saw.”

“You want to forget?”

His half-closed eyes were tied to his emotions as he sank into drowsiness, his head tilted back. Faint scars were revealed between the opened buttons of his shirt.

“I won’t forget, but you will. You said you’d forget, didn’t you?”

He smiled again, tiresomely.