Chapter 01
Press Conference Hall.
[The Empire’s highest-paid aide, Mayna Winslet, “♡Looking for a new knight boy♡!”]
A massive banner fluttered proudly in the air.
Beneath it, Mayna sat in a faint daze.
Bang! Bang, bang!
The barrage of camera flashes nearly blinded her.
New knight boi? Is that text real?
The thought of that absurdly frivolous slogan being immortalised on the front page of the Imperial Daily made her want to die a little.
They even slapped on a cutesy heart. Infuriating.
All of this was the handiwork of her lawyer, Kurden Rota.
A man whose brilliant brain was overloaded with ability but whose linguistic sense and aesthetic taste had long since been thrown into a dungeon.
Kurden, who was handling the press conference, pointed to a reporter.
“Thank you.
This is Penny Lige from the Imperial Press Corps.
Is it true you unilaterally betrayed Lord Lennox?”
“Haha. Betrayal, you say.”
Kurden chuckled smoothly, rushing in to shield.
But then—
“Yes.”
Mayna’s prison-bar honesty burst out, and Kurden had no choice but to cover his face with his hand.
Did you hear? She admitted she betrayed him.
The citizens stirred as one.
Pens scribbled furiously.
“Have you heard the news that the essay I Was That Knight’s Slave became a bestseller?”
“Ah, that book wasn’t written by me…”
Not by me, anyway.
“On the day you submitted your resignation, did you really slap Lord Lennox on the back of the head and say, ‘I’d rather tap-dance with monsters in a dungeon than keep working with you’?”
“I didn’t slap his head, but that second part…”
Well, yes, but who on earth leaked that?
“They say you were already well-versed in dungeon environments from childhood.
What was the secret of your early training?”
“Excuse me?
Me?
My childhood self…”
…In a word, a brain full of flowers.
Her so-called early training had consisted of ignoring worldly affairs, turning away from commoners’ hardships, and picking up tips for discovering the best dessert shops—such was the life of a sheltered noble’s daughter.
Then, one day, she suddenly realised this was the world of a dystopian romance-fantasy novel.
But nothing had changed.
A dungeon gate had opened in the heart of the Empire, plunging the world into chaos, and how was that her problem?
She had possessed the body of a pretty duke’s daughter—not a knight, not a mage.
Dungeons? Someone else’s problem.
Monsters? Too ugly, no thanks.
That was about the extent of it.
“What was the reason behind the breakup of the two of you, once hailed as an unbeatable duo?”
At last, the core question appeared, and the hall fell silent.
Mayna slowly parted her lips.
“I no longer…”
…love Kalif Lennox.
“Aide? Please continue.”
“……”
Bang!
“They say Lord Lennox has been living recklessly since your separation.”
“What will you do if he spirals out of control?”
“I heard there’s a chance he may never use his injured leg again.”
“People say you don’t abandon someone when they’re down. Why did you leave him?”
Mayna stared blankly at the fireworks of camera flashes.
Bang.
Bang, bang…!
Her eyes, briefly lit by the reflected glare, sank into deep darkness.
Two years earlier.
[Top Star Kalif Lennox’s New Lover? “A Passionate Romance Born in the Dungeon”]
Kalif sat staring at the front-page article with a bored expression.
Fresh from the shower, his half-naked body carried the scent of steam.
His wet, dark-brown hair dripped as his scarred hand shook it out.
Water beaded on his chest and slid leisurely along the lines of muscle, and Mayna found herself staring blankly.
“Hm. It wasn’t all that passionate.”
His offhand murmur pricked her ear.
Mayna thought.
Is this man insane?
The brazen fool she longed to beat senseless was currently embroiled in a scandal with none other than the Emperor’s youngest daughter and S-rank mage, Sera Parker.
A golden spoon, an elite, and a peerless beauty—she was the very image of perfection.
The rumour dated back a month earlier, when she and Kalif had joined the North Sea subjugation together.
In truth, their relationship could be summed up in a single sentence.
A top-tier paladin with overwhelming offensive power who burned through stamina quickly, and one of the few healers capable of restoring him.
“Good grief.
Of all things, they caught the exact moment of a kiss!”
Kurden Rota, his personal lawyer, fumed.
“This time, I’ll shut down every last journalist and newspaper.
Violation of image rights, leaking personal data of high-level ability users—I’ll throw it all at them. Those parasites.”
Kurden ground his teeth.
Kalif, however, only shrugged, as if it were nothing.
The man who had nearly died in a C-rank dungeon because of the idiot Bayon, crawling out by the skin of his teeth, still wore a face lined with relief and old exhaustion.
His languid blue-grey eyes flicked to the edge of the table.
His gaze landed on his aide, Mayna Winslet.
Aide in name only, but in truth little more than an emotional trash bin and errand-running slave.
She sat calmly as always, her emerald-green hair tied back in a tight knot.
Behind her silver-rimmed glasses, her coffee-colored eyes were said by all who met her to be unexpectedly beautiful.
She did indeed possess striking features, but her face lacked three things.
Expression.
Vitality.
That greenhouse-flower radiance is unique to noble daughters.
“Lady Winslet. Why so quiet?”
Mayna’s eyes narrowed.
If I open my mouth, the first thing out will be an insult. Can you handle that?
Expressionless did not mean emotionless.
That was something Kalif would never understand to the day he died.
“Bad habits are hard to break, Lord Lennox. But in a situation like this, silence would be preferable.”
“Ohh…”
Kurden threw up both hands at her fiery rebuke.
“Stop mocking me with your lady this and lady that.”
Mayna added.
Kalif, who had been lounging like he was draped across a green velvet couch, straightened his back.
“Silence?”
His teeth ground.
“And why the hell should I be silent?”
“……”
“What have I done wrong that I should shut my mouth?”
“If you absolutely must speak, then say something useful, will you?
The Tyleoff dukedom has withdrawn its guild sponsorship.
They said this monthly scandal of yours has gone too far.”
“……”
“They said they agreed to bankroll the guild only because of its master’s ability, but they never imagined he’d be such a delinquent.
They refuse to stain their family’s name any further.”
Kalif’s blue eyes fixed on her, ice-cold and menacing.
The overwhelming aura of a top-ranked ability user—something no ordinary human could endure.
Mayna’s pale, unpainted cheek twitched.
“Is that all?”
“…What?”
“All you have to say.”
His eyes burned with a fierce blue flame.
With those terrible, freezing, wildfire-like eyes.
Were they now filled with Sera Parker’s naked body?
“What are you thinking?”
“……”
“Mayna Winslet. I asked what you’re thinking.”
Kalif growled.
Mayna pressed her lips shut.
If photos of you kissing Sera Parker were plastered all over the Empire, what things were you doing in the places no one could see?
Better to smash that window and fling herself from the castle wall than speak those words aloud.
“Now, now. Both of you, calm down.”
At last, the golden-haired boy who had been silent stepped in to mediate.
Adonis Hiaron, Kalif’s chief secretary.
“This afternoon’s party will proceed as planned.”
The invitations had gone out three weeks before nobles and A-rank or higher ability users across the nations.
Cancelling the event on the day itself would not only cause massive financial losses but also incur the ire of the guests.
“Less than three hours remain. Lord Lennox, please head to the fitting room and prepare.”
It was Mayna who spoke, regaining her composure with startling speed.
“……”
“Oh dear. I can already hear the swarm of reporters descending, can’t you?”
Kurden flopped onto his back, his rocking chair creaking.
“I swear, I can see them.”
“See what?”
“Their faces. Pretending to cover the party while fishing for dirt.”
Kurden carried on like he was seeing ghosts, and Adonis burst into laughter.
“Lord Lennox. Why is Princess Parker not present today?”
Adonis pressed a transparent mic toward Kurden.
Kurden eagerly leaned in to answer, but—
“Adonis.”
Mayna cut him off.
“Tch.”
Kurden smacked his lips, embarrassed.
“Let’s stop here. We’ll find a way through this, like always.”
Mayna urged Kurden and Adonis on.
As she always did, like the capable aide she was.
Kalif was the first to leave the conference room.
Adonis hurried after him, snatching up his discarded robe.
“Come on, let’s move too.”
Kurden gathered his papers with a thump and followed.
Left alone, Mayna gazed through the clear window.
Outside stretched the piercing, pristine scenery of late February.
She murmured to herself.
“Tired of it. All of it.”
