The Tyrant's Terminally-Ill Childhood Friend (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 14
Simoren Lindel. The Emperor’s First Knight, and now appointed as the guardian of the Sheyen Palace, he was a rare individual born with impeccable propriety. One might even call him rigidly principled, yet few people fit so seamlessly into a structured life as he did.
And indeed, Simoren’s entire life had followed a strictly regimented path—through a disciplined upbringing, private academies, and knighthood training—always adhering to established norms. Naturally, wherever he went, he excelled. He had never once felt boredom toward his studies or duties.
Yet, several days had passed since he assumed his post as guardian of the Sheyen Palace.
“…How dull.”
For the first time in his life, Simoren truly understood what boredom felt like.
The reason was simple. Though his duty was termed “guardianship,” in truth it amounted to surveillance—and he had to follow Anette everywhere.
The problem was that Anette kept herself busy running about, yet never did anything that actually warranted watching.
“I can’t slack off on surveillance, so I follow her for now….”
It was truly tedious. At first, Simoren had assumed Anette was holding back because of his presence.
[Mabel, has Lady Anette’s schedule changed at all?] [Oh, no, brother. It’s exactly as originally planned.] […Really?]For the past few days, Anette had gone on a shopping spree for clothes, taken a stroll around the Imperial Palace, enjoyed some tea, and now even holed herself up in the library. She’d gathered armfuls of books, stacked them high enough to form walls around her, and read intently without leaving her seat even once.
“Is this really how someone plotting something would behave?”
He’d volunteered for this guardianship specifically to uncover Anette’s intentions, yet after several days all he’d learned was that she favored monochrome clothing and surprisingly enjoyed novels. Anyone observing this routine would surely question whether surveillance served any purpose at all.
“This isn’t what I had in mind….”
His earlier resolve now felt embarrassingly hollow, and Simoren blankly recalled the events of a few days prior.
The moment he’d encountered Anette—and the incident that had led him to decide on becoming her guardian.
Yesterday, as Simoren exited the Central Main Palace, he spotted a black-haired woman passing through a corridor.
Given her elegant attire and black hair, the conclusion was obvious. He immediately approached and stopped her.
“Lady Anette, this area is off-limits without His Majesty’s permission. Please turn back.”
The woman’s face, seen for the first time, was peculiar.
Calling someone “peculiar” upon first sight might seem impolite, yet no other word fit. Anette, the Duke’s daughter of House Martinek, who had supposedly lived secluded since childhood due to frail health, was indeed peculiar.
Her deep, unreadable black eyes and pale skin, still bearing traces of illness,
created a stark contrast of black and white that was astonishingly still—and yet astonishingly captivating. It wasn’t merely because she was strikingly beautiful; even if she’d covered her face, the impression would have remained much the same.
There was something about her that evoked thoughts of death.
The moment he sensed this, her inscrutable black eyes slowly turned toward Simoren.
Though her expression was clearly blank, Simoren inexplicably felt she was smiling.
“Do you know me?”
Truly strange. And thus, all the more unsettling.
A person who reminded him of death? Simoren now even found her somewhat eerie.
Consequently, he forgot to reply altogether. It wasn’t a long pause.
“Answer.”
“…Yes?”
“I asked if you knew me. I’ve never seen you before.”
Her gaze, flat and reproachful, fixed on Simoren.
Only then did Simoren realize he’d forgotten her question. He quickly responded.
“Of course I know you. Do you think there could possibly be two noblewomen with black hair in the Imperial Palace?”
“I wouldn’t know. This is my first time visiting the palace.”
Her reply was so calmly indifferent as to border on brazen, causing Simoren’s brow to furrow.
“Anette Martinek.”
“That’s wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s not my name. How rude of you.”
“But that can’t be….”
Flustered, Simoren’s eyes rapidly scanned her. In every aspect, she matched the description he’d heard of “Anette Martinek.” But at that moment, her appearance wasn’t what mattered.
“You saw my black hair and immediately declared me Anette Martinek without asking a single question. For such rudeness, I’ll collect your name as payment.”
“…Are you truly not the Duke’s daughter of House Martinek?”
“Does the first tenet of the Imperial Knights include turning the tables on accusations?”
Her calm rebuttal left Simoren scowling.
Because she was absolutely right. Despite clear protocols of etiquette, he had indeed judged her solely by her black hair.
Thus, he bowed politely.
“Please forgive my rudeness. I am Simoren Lindel, His Majesty’s First Knight, currently assigned to guard him.”
Yet when he straightened, his eyes held even sharper hostility than before.
“However, since unauthorized persons are forbidden within the palace grounds, may I ask you to state your identity?”
“The Sheyen Palace.”
The woman answered smoothly as flowing water and gave a bright smile.
“Call me Lowell.”
Hearing this, Simoren’s face instantly darkened—he realized he’d been toyed with.
“Are you lying to me right now?”
“I’m not lying.”
Of course, she was innocent. It was just that no one would believe her.
“I was simply curious about the name of the person who so abruptly ordered me to enter.”
“That’s no excuse. Why were you curious about my name?”
“Because I’m looking for Sir Simoren Lindel, and while I know he has gray eyes, I possess enough sense not to instantly assume that every rude knight with gray eyes must be him.”
Naturally, stating one’s name comes first. Simoren was slightly taken aback by her added remark.
He, who had never felt lacking in eloquence, was stunned to find himself utterly unable to retort.
While Simoren stood speechless, Anette continued.
“I merely wished to hear an answer. I asked His Majesty, but he wouldn’t tell me.”
She gave a faint smile and then asked,
“If Lowell Hessen were still alive, do you think His Majesty would search for her?”
Though the answer seemed obvious, Simoren couldn’t give it.
‘Back then, I wondered why I’d felt that way.’
How could one sense death from someone perfectly alive? Yet after hearing Noah’s account, Simoren found his answer: Anette had nothing left to lose but her own life, and that aura had emanated from her.
‘She’s clever, and has nothing to lose.’
Having nothing to lose meant she’d never lose recklessness in any situation and could never be compromised. That alone was enough—but she was also skilled at handling others.
Was there anyone more dangerous than such a person? The thought triggered an alarm in Simoren’s mind.
In fact, considering Noah’s warning had been meant to keep him away from Anette, it had backfired completely.
“…Which is precisely why I came.”
With no results to show and only meaningless time passing, Simoren even began doubting whether his judgment had been right.
While he sank into discouragement, the sun outside the window had already begun to set.
Anette, whose emergence from her mountain of books he’d wondered about, finally rose from her seat.
“It’s already this late. Let’s head back.”
To Simoren, who’d been listening, this was welcome news. He promptly followed her.
Yet contrary to expectation, Anette wasn’t heading down the usual path from the library to the Sheyen Palace.
“Lady Anette, aren’t we returning to the palace?”
“We are. This way is a bit faster. Sir, you’ve never taken a shortcut before, have you?”
“Of course not….”
He hadn’t.
Why take a shortcut when perfectly good corridors and hallways existed? The very concept of using a shortcut had never entered his mind, so he was somewhat shocked—and it clearly showed on his face. Anette glanced back at him and let out a soft laugh.
“I heard you’ve been in the palace a long time, but now it seems I know it better than you.”
“…That’s no laughing matter. As guardian, I ought to know every inch of the palace, yet I was completely unaware of this path.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. It seems I’m the only one who’s ever thought to use this shortcut.”
At Anette’s words, Simoren’s brow twitched. If she was truly the first to consider using this shortcut, didn’t that mean she’d created a new route?
He’d followed her without fail—when exactly had she done this?
“Now that you know this path too, there are two of us who know it.”
It’s a secret between you and me, Sir Lindel.
Anette said this with a faint smile. Her softly curved lips and almond-shaped eyes, dark as ink, stood out against the shade of ornamental trees, whose leaves, stirred by the breeze, scattered the evening glow.
If Death ever loved a person, surely that person would wear such a face.
Simoren found himself momentarily speechless. Before he could even grasp what he was feeling or why he’d lost his words, Anette turned and walked on.
“Let’s go. Mabel will be waiting….”
And at that very moment, a voice came from beyond the wall where they stood.
“Say, Lady Anette—she has black hair, but is she really a noble?”
Male lead is a Love-Obsessed Merman
When he discovers she has gone, he risks everything to pursue her on land, enduring agonizing pain to transform his tail into human legs…
One-line summary: Male lead chases female lead. The male lead’s love is a bit sick, an invincible love brain.
Synopsis
During a voyage at sea, Jiang Yang accidentally captures a merman.
Servant: I heard that mermen are fierce and brutal.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman obediently rubbing her palm like a puppy: “You call this fierce and brutal?”
Servant: I heard that mermen have no human nature.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman with wet puppy eyes, obsessively calling her ‘A Yang’ like a childish infant: “You call this having no human nature?”
With great difficulty, she releases the merman back into the sea and returns to shore.
Who would have thought that in less than half a month, the merman, who should have been freely wandering in the South China Sea, would shed his scales, endure the pain of losing his tail, transform into human legs, and come ashore to find her?
He kneels at her feet, rubbing her palm, with merman tears rolling down: “A Yang, don’t abandon me.”
_____
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