Mary cried when she saw me getting out of the library, blood dripping from my head. She rushed toward me, muttering incomprehensible words about her poor empress, who kept getting injured. It only worsened my mood—I almost snapped at the poor girl if Arsen had not steered me to the direction of his carriage and thrown a stern look at Mary to shut her up. I knew she meant well, but I was still pretty sensitive at the moment.

Yes, yes, I know I don't have the heroine's luck, but no need to rub it on my face!

Mary voicing her concern just made me even more aware of how bloody unlucky I was, and it annoyed me to death.

I was just about to get into the carriage when we heard another voice.

"Your Majesty."

Damn, what is it this time?

My day of misfortune must not have been over yet. It must be a trilogy—or was it a quadrilogy? Pentalogy? I think I lost count already.

At that somewhat familiar voice, I looked back and was met with a familiar face. Tanned skin, honey-blonde hair, and hazel eyes stared at me with obvious concern.

Endymion Villarreal.

Great, just what I needed.

"Blessing and glory upon Your Majesty, the emperor and empress," he greeted politely.

"Lord Villarreal."

"You can just call me by my first name like usual, Your Majesty." His casual statement earned him a frown from Arsen. "I'm sorry for my impudence, but may I ask what happened?"

He seemed to be sincerely worried about me, but honestly, I didn't have the patience to humor him right now.

We had met several times after our first meeting to talk about business and stuff, and from our interactions so far, I could tell that he fancied me or at least had some sort of feelings for me.

No, I was not being overconfident. It was just I wasn't some sort of stupid clueless girl who couldn't see hints even if it was standing right in front of them.

Sure, at first it was hilarious watching him send glances at me, trying to play mind games, and be subtle with his flirting, but it only took me two meetings to figure out his hidden agenda with the whole gloves thing.

Hah, he might think he is smart, but he should know who his opponent is.

I still gave him the gloves, just as I promised. Well, of course my servants were the ones who embroidered them. I did insert the first stitch though, so I wasn't completely cheating. But without his knowledge, I also gave all my close attendants gloves with the same design, so he wouldn't be able to use them for whatever game he was planning.

Besides, the more I talked to him, the more I got the yandere vibes from him.

I understood that there were people who thought that this kind of behavior was romantic, but I certainly wasn't one of them. I had read enough novels with those kinds of tropes to know where it could lead.

Yes, many readers might be enthusiastic about obsessive male leads that seemed to cross the line at any moment, but it was a delusion because it was a novel. If it were real, he would be a criminal!

So no thanks, I would rather pass. I didn't need some kind of psycho obsessed with me, no matter how attractive he looked. I already had a lot on my plate anyway.

And to be honest, he had been really getting on my nerves lately, and I would be damned if I would have to be stuck with this god-awful PG-13 flirty garbage he was trying to pull any longer.

"As you can see, I had a little bit of an accident, so we're going back to the palace now," I answered, one foot already on the carriage step.

He didn't get the hint. "I have a villa nearby, and it's closer than the palace. How about we go there first to attend to your wound?"

"No, no." It was hard to stay polite, but I reminded myself I still had to work with him. "I don't want to impose. I'll just have the royal physician tend to me."

"But Your Majesty needs to get help as soon as you can. Your wound looks very bad."

"No!" I finally snapped before taking a deep breath to calm myself. "It looks messy because of the blood, but actually it's not that bad—"

Arsen slid right behind me and curled his hand around my waist. I straightened and turned slightly toward him, and I couldn't help but feel a little relief.

"What the empress means to say is, please excuse us."

I knew Arsen didn't mean to sound scornful, but it came out that way. The men sized each other up. Arsen was a bit smaller than Endymion but almost as tall, and he straightened to his full height. For once, I didn't say anything and just let Arsen do the job for me.

"Ah, I'm sorry for my rudeness, Your Majesty." He finally backed off, then he turned to me and smiled sweetly. "I wish you a fast recovery. I'll be looking forward to our next meeting."

"Of course." I gave a small nod before letting Arsen pull my waist and help me get on the carriage, away from Endymion's lingering eyes.

"What the hell was that?" Arsen asked me as soon as we settled in the carriage.

"Nothing." I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Nothing?" He scoffed. "Seriously, at least you have to tell me what's wrong with—what's his name again?"

"Marquess Endymion Villarreal."

"Yeah, him, whatever."

"There's nothing to tell. We have daily meetings because he's my business partner in my current project and that's it."

"Really?" He gave me a doubtful glance. "Because from what I see, he clearly wanted to do awful things to you."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. But I saw him once, and I could already tell he has it bad for you."

Seriously, why is he suddenly so observant? Learning from experience, huh?

"Nah... I think he just wants to—how did my mother so eloquently put it? Get under my skirt?" I said in a joking manner.

"Calypso!" Arsen shrieked, scandalized.

I almost laughed at his expression. "Why? Is it a problem for you? You can sleep with whomever you want but I can't? Is it because you're a man and I'm a woman?"

"You know that's not what I meant." His face flushed in embarrassment. "I'm just worried about you."

"Why would you?" I raised my brow in challenge.

"Of course I'm worried. You're not acting like yourself. You don't usually allow disrespect, but you tolerate him, and I think he wants a... torrid love affair with you."

"He's my business partner. I have to play nice," I scoffed. "And a torrid love affair, seriously?"

"I would bet you my great-grandfather's ring; that's what he wants."

"Your great-grandfather would probably roll in his grave if he heard you say something like that."

"I am that certain. That guy couldn't have been more obvious about it that even I could notice, and you know that."

"Well, it doesn't make any difference whether or not he wants a torrid love affair because he wouldn't get one, at least not from me. However, I can't talk about other ladies. I mean, look at his face and body. I'm sure lots of ladies would love to jump him if he just gives them a chance."

"Fine, fine, I got your point." Arsen sighed. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Don't you know me? I would have his hands cut off, or his thing castrated if he so much as dared to touch a strand of my hair without my permission."

"How could I forget how scary you can be."

"Well, I learned from the best."

"Ah yes, your mother." He grimaced. "How's your uncle by the way? He didn't give you a hard time, did he? I mean about, you know..."

"Not really. I'm sure he just wants to cover everything for now to save our family's reputation."

"It's not surprising, considering it's your uncle we're talking about here." He nodded.

"You should have seen his face. It was quite fun watching him get all flustered and angry like that. He's always such a snob."

"Oh, I totally agree. I think he's the most arrogant person I know. 'Don't you know who I am? I am Leander Elloid! The unbearably intelligent and aristocratic heir of the greatest dynasties to ever grace this mud-ball of a planet. I have lots of money and I will throw a tantrum if you do not approve of my demands immediately,' 'I need another wing built on my manor because I cannot fit my personality into this one. What do you mean I have to wait? I am an Elloid!'"

"Oh, please. Don't tell me you expect any less. To him, the sun shines out of his arse," I added.

We both laughed at this, and for a moment, I almost forgot who I was laughing with. It brought me back to when we were younger—when my feelings for him were still pure and innocent and free of manipulation—a time when everything was much simpler.

But then I remembered... and I stopped laughing abruptly as the awareness hit me. My expression turned blank. My stomach dropped, and I was suddenly overly conscious. It was like a lamp switch being turned off, and just like that, I was back to my anxious, depressing self.

This anxiety and depression fucking sucks, you know. You unintentionally make yourself sad. You feel alone and sometimes you don't even know what is wrong. It sucked because, for a minute, I was happy. For a minute, I was getting better. For a minute, I had hope. But in a minute, I lost it all again.

Seeing my abrupt change of expression, Arsen furrowed his brow and looked at me in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just suddenly remember who I am talking to."

His expression faltered immediately.

"Ah yes, you haven't forgiven me yet," he said, his voice softer now. "You said you want me to kneel and beg for your forgiveness, right? Well, it's a bit cramped here. Can I do it when we arrive at the palace later?"

Ah, he still remembers that. Leave it to Arsen to always remember unimportant details. "Forget it. I'm not in the mood to receive an apology right now."

"Why are you always making it so bloody hard for me?" He pinched his nose tiredly. "You don't even let me apologize."

"If it's up to a person who apologizes and not a person who is apologized to, is it even an apology?"

He slumped in his seat at my words. "I guess you're right."

The atmosphere suddenly became so awkward—it was unbearable.

I glanced at him through the corner of my eyes as he reset his jaw and straightened his back a little. Both of his hands rested on his thighs, then I saw it. It was a twitch in the smallest movements, almost too small to catch. A slight tremor, a tiny tremble I almost didn't notice.

I furrowed my brow in contemplation.

It was strange. Arsen doesn't tremble.

As someone who held a sword on a daily basis, Arsen's physical condition was always top-notch. So watching his hands tremor even so slightly was strange.

He looked back at me then. He seemed to consider me momentarily before pulling something from his trouser pocket. It was a metal flask.

The harsh smell of whiskey filled the carriage the moment he unstopped it.

Arsen was never a big fan of alcohol. I barely ever saw him touch alcohol unless it was an official event and even then, he never seemed to enjoy it, so it was surprising to see him take out a flask filled with whiskey.

I watched his face screw up at the first sip and went a splotchy red, and I had to admit it was fun to watch him suffer. Really, it was.

"Day drinking, yeah?" I drawled. "Since when?"

"Since I became a helpless insomniac, apparently." He just stared straight ahead, holding the flask up to his lips. "I can hardly relax, let alone sleep, unless I am beyond intoxicated."

I was no stranger to drinking myself. After all, I was trained by my mother from a young age since she deemed it important to have high alcohol tolerance.

I had become tipsy before, but had never lost my sense of rationality no matter how much I drank. Therefore, alcohol was what I used every now and then, whenever there was something I wanted to extort from someone.

But now... I kind of envy Arsen.

I wasn't even able to drown my sorrow with alcohol because I had a high tolerance. Yet, he...

Ah... I must be in a mood to whine today. I keep thinking of such crap.

But seriously, isn't the unfairness a bit too much? It's annoying.

I watched him take another big gulp before putting the flask back in his trouser pocket.

It was kind of funny. I would not have thought he would be one to abuse alcohol to this extent, but I guess that was what trauma did to people.

And now that I could see him up close, I once again noticed what I had noticed earlier at the library. Arsen's face was as pale as death, his lips a sickly bluish-orange. The skin around his eyes was sunken and darkened, and he looked lifeless. He leaned against the carriage window, gazing at the beautiful scenery with a haunted look like the very omen of death.

He didn't look well.

He—he looked awful.

And I thought it was that part of my brain again that somehow found comfort in it.

Arsenio Arcturus looked awful. He looked almost as bad as me. The regression wasn't easy for him, either. And yes, it was comforting. It was despicably fucking comforting. It meant I wasn't a complete lunatic. It meant I wasn't the only weak one out of all of them because I couldn't move on. It meant that someone got it. Someone was going to struggle as I did. The fact that it was the male lead made me feel so much better.

I remembered reading Electra's first impression of him when she met him in his dream—remembered she had said something along this line: "Arsen, you have no despair. You seem to have a healthier mind than any of the other people I've met."

I snorted at the inaccuracies.

Is she blind? Which part of him looks healthy?

He clearly didn't seem fine both physically and mentally like how he was described in the book. Then again, what kind of person died so gruesomely and came back to life with a healthy mind? It didn't make any sense.

Suddenly, his eyes flitted upward and met mine like a crash—a head-on collision. If we were not in a closed space, I might actually take a step back.

But for a moment, I was almost giddy. Because Arsenio Arcturus, the male lead, had been ruined by this book, too, and he was as out of place as I was, and—yes, he had his own demons, too.

I wonder whether one day we'll compare numbers.

"Calypso," he called.

"Hmm?" I answered lazily, barely acknowledging him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Is it a secret?"

"No, but I don't mind if you keep it as one."

"Right, go on then."

"Do you..." He took a deep breath. "Do you think we'll be okay again?"

My head reeled with the loss of blood, so I rested the uninjured side of my head on the glass window before answering, "I'm not sure. At least I hope so."

"Me too." Then he looked at me and smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Sometimes... I feel so lost, like I've forgotten how to breathe. I haven't been able to think about it until now."

"I did forget how to breathe," I said. "Still not sure I'm doing it right if I'm honest."

A crow cawed outside the window, catching both our ears. I looked outside, finding the sun hiding behind the clouds, close to being gone. But the sun always came back; it was never gone for long.

"Maybe we'll never breathe the same again," I continued. "Even if we somehow figure it out, I reckon it'll be different."

"Yeah," he whispered as we watched the crow fly higher into the sky. After a momentary pause, he spoke again. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Depends," I answered. "But go on."

It might be the blood loss or his hollow voice or just the overall atmosphere, but I felt more agreeable somehow.

"Will you ever tell me your story?"

I raised one of my brows questioningly. I had guessed that he might have figured out that I also remember the first timeline—so does he want to talk about what happened to me after his uncle captured him?

"Are you sure you want to know? You might even cry," I said in a mocking tone.

"We can exchange if you want to." He gave me a bitter smile.

Ah, there it is—a chance to talk about my misfortunes.

Honestly, it was tempting. Sometimes I wish I could just confide in someone, especially on a day like this.

I was tired, I hadn't slept properly for days, and my head hurt as hell. So nobody could blame me if the exhaustion made me more willing to let people in, even if they were the wrong people. Maybe especially if they were the wrong people. At least this time, I knew I still had control over my own mind.

But in the end, I just couldn't—so I did what I do best—holding on to the last string of my pride tightly, just in case it would slip out of my grasp if I just slacked a little.

"I don't think so," I answered, imbuing the words with a bite I didn't quite feel.

Arsen paused. "Can you at least consider it?"

I equally paused, then replied quietly, "I don't know... Maybe one day."

"But not today?"

Thinking back on the hurt, the betrayal, and the distance that had grown between us—the hurt was still raw and bleeding. "No, not today."

Arsen's sigh was bitter, defeated, but he understood, and it was conveyed when he said, "Okay," and that was all that the two of us needed.

We continued our journey in silence, and I wasn't too fond of it. I hated how the silence made me think about bad things—awful things. It made me restless and anxious.

I thought... I was okay. But no, I wasn't okay. I was anxious and depressed and my hands were fucking trembling. So I clenched my skirt to hide it. But he noticed... Of course, he noticed. Just like I noticed him.

Cautiously, as if not to startle a scared animal, he put his hand on top of mine. It was cold to the touch, yet I found that it was annoyingly comforting.

I would never admit it of course—and just distracted myself by looking outside the window. But just between you and me, the scenery wasn't the only thing I could see in the glass.

"Is this okay?" asked Arsen, his voice softer than it had been.

His hand still rested on mine, but it was so light as if he was waiting to move it away. There was a beat of silence. I felt him tense as my fingers twitched a little, but when I silently nodded, my eyes still focused on the window. He relaxed, letting the full weight of his hand return as it rested there.

I wanted to say it was more than okay. I wanted to say this was more okay than anything had been recently. I wanted to say I had wanted this since that day in my bedroom when I saw him for the first time after my regression, and I was the most tired I think I had ever been, and I missed this. I missed him. But of course, it wouldn't be me if I did.

"Thank you," said Arsen.

It was silent once more and I still avoided looking at him

But I didn't retract my hand.

I'm too weak to let go of this hand.

It was pathetic. I was angry. I was afraid. I was panicking. I hated—I loved—I wanted—I couldn't—I shouldn't.

He didn't deserve to feel my pain and come to the rescue. That wasn't fair.

He's Arsenio Arcturus, the male lead.

I'm Calypso Berenice, a mere extra.

It could never work out.

We were never meant to be.

Oh, but in another life...

In another life, maybe we were. We were perfect. He could be the sun, and I would be the moon, chasing him around the earth for eternity. Spelling out care and love through nights among the countless stars—and the moments when we were both in the sky at the same time could be moments I held in my heart forever. I would wait for him to wake up as I went away. I would wait as long as I could, setting slower and slower each day just to catch a glimpse of the bright, fiery sun.

Perfect, brilliant sun.

My sun.

Mine.

But no!

No! I didn't get my sun! I wasn't allowed to be his moon! God forbid I ever experience happiness! Or love!

No more moon.

No more stars.

Just the sun.

Bright and burning and painful and so, so lonely.

No one could stand to look at the sun.

***

Author's Note:

A surprise update just because I feel like it. I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit boring-but we finally get a little development, yeah?

Oh, and are you disappointed about Endymion? Well, probably not so much in this version since I made it pretty clear early on that he's a red flag. But in the first draft, many people immediately ship him with Calypso when he first appeared in chapter 7. I remember someone commented something about Can't wait for him to show up again and take Calypso, blah, blah, blah... I think it was around chapter 11-but the funny thing was... I didn't even remember his name at that time. I even had to check chapter 7 just to remember his name. So yeah... hahaha. To tell you the truth, I created his character to make fun of how people often romanticize yandere characters just because they're attractive.

Anyway, I'm curious. What do you guys think about this story so far?

The theme song for this chapter would be from Arsen's perspective, which contains his frustration toward Calypso. Oh, he's not the only one. She frustrated me, too, sometimes, even though I was the one writing her. Her pride and stubbornness might be her biggest flaw. Hahaha... Anyway, the song is I Just Wanna Know by NF. These lyrics specifically...

Yeah, we used to talk like best friends
I remember that I guess I don't know what happened to us
Now you got me questionin' what trust is
You told me you would be there for me
Yeah, but you ain't really mean it did ya
Now you wanna jump ship
Leave me here alone
Well, I'm used to it
Everybody else did
Who you havin' fun with
Don't tell me I don't wanna know
Every time I ask I just feel sick
You're the one that jumped in
Told me you had some feelins
Now you tryin' to tell me that is not true
I ain't gotta clue
Who I'm lookin' at right now, but I know the person that I'm lookin' at is not you
They say that you are who you hang with
Maybe that's the reason you been changin'
Maybe that's the reason why I'm feelin' like you're dangerous
And every time we talk it's like I'm talkin' to a stranger

I just wanna know oh, oh, oh, oh
When did you get so cold oh, oh, oh
What happened to your soul oh oh oh
Don't you see me
I thought that we were close
But now that door is closed
When did we lose control
Guess you don't need me