Chapter 2.2

How could someone be this ridiculously good looking?

His skin was as pale as the moonlight. His thick, arched brows were sharp, and his nose was high and elegant.

His lips were full and a striking shade of red, almost like he was wearing lipstick,
and to top it off, a distinct beauty mark sat just beside his mouth, adding to his charm.

This was bad. He wasn’t just handsome. He was downright dangerous.

“Hey! Open your eyes!”

Now my curiosity was eating at me to find out who he was. There was no way someone who looked like this was just a servant in this house.

But he was in no state to answer me.

“No response. I guess I’ll have to keep him here for now.”

Letting a man this gorgeous die would be a national— no, a global tragedy.

Using all my strength, I rolled him onto his back. When I saw how much blood had covered my hands, I gasped.

He must be badly hurt. What do I do?

“Excuse me, where are you injured? If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to check myself, okay?”

I scanned him head to toe. Black hair, black suit. It made him look like a crow dipped in ink.

But that made it nearly impossible to see where the injury was.

Guess I’ll have to take off his shirt…

I gulped, hesitating, until I noticed the torn fabric near his left shoulder.

I quickly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his shoulder.

“Whoa, that’s really bad.”

There was a small, coin-sized hole in the man’s shoulder. It looked like that’s where all the blood had come from.

My guess is something had pierced straight through him, and just looking at it made me wince.

If I left him like this, he might actually die. The problem was, I had no idea if this mansion had anything I could use to treat him.

I didn’t even know the layout of the place yet.

Where do I even start looking? Just as I began to panic, the man I’d assumed was unconscious suddenly grabbed me by the collar of my dress.

And then, in a low, hoarse voice, he whispered it right against my ear.

“…Help… me.”

My face instantly flushed. Without even thinking, I nodded.

I mean, how could I not agree when he asked me in that velvety, baritone voice?

“O-okay. But what should I call you…?”

“…”

No response. He’d truly passed out this time, his grip slackening on my shirt.

I stood up, dusting my clothes off. I didn’t matter what state the world was in, my first priority now was saving this man.

Grabbing his arms, I dragged him to the foot of the staircase.

Seriously, what kind of workouts do you have to do to get arms this thick and solid?

I wanted to move him to a bed, but with how tall and heavy he was, there was no way I could carry him upstairs by myself.

“You’ll have to endure the cold floor for now.”

After muttering this to him, I hurried back upstairs. I grabbed a blanket from the bed and snatched the diary before rushing back.

I pretended to stay calm, but my mind raced with the same questions: What now? What happens to me now?

Rescuing the man was one thing, but I was just an average civilian. I’ve never treated someone with a life-threatening injury before.

“Please, please… Let there be instructions for this.”

I sat down by the man’s head, set the blanket down, and flipped open the diary.

Up until a few minutes ago, it had felt like some kind of cursed object, but now it was the only thing I had to rely on.

I skimmed the pages, searching for words like injury or treatment.

Until one entry caught my attention.

To you, who will have to live here in my stead, I will now share basic information about this world.

The nation I live in is called “Cocoa.” It is the sole empire on the continent.

And the man ruling in place of the long-comatose emperor is…

“Louis de Cocoa? Crown Prince Cocoa?”

I threw the diary down in horror.

A wave of cringe-worthy memories from my teenage years came flooding back, nights I’d stayed up giggling to myself as I jotted down dumb ideas.

Cocoa, the warm, sweet and perfect drink for winter, was the crown prince’s name.

He was the male lead of a story I mindlessly wrote back in my last year of high school…