Pathetic Hangover
“……Ughhh.”
The moment I opened my eyes, a vicious pain exploded through my entire head, like someone had been pounding on it all night long.
“Ah, ugh……”
My mouth was parched dry, and my stomach was churning wildly.
I clutched my pounding skull with both hands, whimpering as I struggled to sit up. In the corner of my blurry vision, I spotted a very familiar red uniform.
It was Amber, sitting crookedly at the head of my bed with her arms crossed tightly and her legs casually crossed.
“Awake at last, Your Highness?”
“……Sir White? Ugh, my head. What time is it?”
“Past lunchtime. The social gathering doesn't start until sunset, so you've still got some time.”
As I writhed in agony, groaning, the attendants waiting outside the door rushed in right on cue.
“Your Highness, here's some chilled ice water, and that noodle dish you had before—the one called ramen.”
“Ugh, thanks……”
On the tray sat the meat noodle soup the imperial kitchen head had made based on my description last time—ramen in the rofan style—its red, oily broth steaming invitingly.
I gulped down the ice water without a second thought.
Feeling my scorched throat cool, I finally caught my breath and grabbed a fork to start slurping up the ramen. The only downside was the lack of chopsticks.
“Grrraaah……!”
The spicy kick of the peppers and the rich meat broth slid hot and soothing down my alcohol-soaked gut.
Only after burying my face in the bowl and sucking down every last strand of noodle did I feel like I could finally breathe again.
“Haa…… Now I feel alive.”
I wiped the sweat from my forehead and nose with a towel and let out a long sigh of relief.
Once my vision cleared and my brain cells fired back up, the mad memories from last night in the main hall started trickling back one by one.
Count Gros, the imperial stablemaster and one of the Emperor's closest aides. The 40-proof rotgut arak he provided. And somehow ending up in a drinking contest with the guy.
……No way. Did I really challenge that count to a drinking battle and win?
I couldn't believe it myself.
Seeing the shock on my face, Amber clicked her tongue with a sharp gaze that was half worry, half reproach.
“Are you insane, Your Highness? Even if it was some macho honor standoff between men, downing straight shots of over-40-proof liquor on an empty stomach without even a sip of water? Even Princess Victoria wouldn't pull that stunt.”
“Haha…… I got caught up in some weird surge of bravado. But you're sure I won, right?”
“You did win. The problem is you risked your life doing it.”
“Well, there's this saying back home: if you're a loser either way, might as well be the winning loser. So I won.”
“God, seriously… haha, you really act like a kid sometimes, Your Highness.”
“But it was cool, right?”
Amber gave me a pitiful look for a moment, then grinned and flashed a thumbs-up.
“It was cool. I'll give you that.”
“Knew it.”
“Well, the ladies were shocked by the spectacle… but the nobles who pride themselves on the Empire's old traditions were thrilled, saying Prince Ian acted like a real man.”
“That's a relief.”
Feeling a bit better, I checked just in case.
“By the way, did I throw a tantrum or spout any nonsense before or after passing out? My memory's spotty.”
“Starting a drinking battle with Count Gros right in the middle of the imperial palace's main hall was mistake enough, but you were sober for that, so you'll remember it.”
“Yeah, that part's clear.”
Amber shrugged and continued.
“Nothing major otherwise. You just stood there like a statue clutching your glass until Second Prince Arthur had someone carry you to bed. Wouldn't budge even if you poked him.”
“Phew, dodged a bullet there. One drunken slip-up and my head would've rolled.”
“Too early to relax, Prince Ian. The imperial social lasts a full week nonstop. It's only day two—burn through your stamina like this on day one, how will you enjoy the rest?”
“I'll manage. Somehow…… Ack.”
I answered confidently and swung my legs off the bed to stand.
But the second my soles hit the carpet, my legs buckled like wet paper, and I wobbled.
If Amber hadn't grabbed my shoulder in time, I'd have face-planted.
“……Looks like you're not ready yet. Drop the tough-guy act and sleep more. I'll wake you around 4 p.m.”
“Haha, thanks, Sir White. Don't mind if I do……”
I crawled back into the plush bed without protest and buried my face in the pillow.
The tension melted away, exhaustion crashed in, and within a minute, I was drifting back to dreamland scented with booze.
Snore, snore—
Listening to Ian's steady breathing as he passed out again in seconds, Amber stood by the bed, gazing down at his face.
Every time I see it, why is he so damn handsome?
Lazy afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, softly illuminating his refined features.
Gone was his usual inscrutable expression—replaced by the defenseless, boyish face of a ridiculously good-looking young man.
Looks pretty mature when he's awake, but asleep? Total baby.
A sly, greedy smile crept across Amber's lips.
Last night, drunk out of his mind in front of all those high nobles, Ian had slurred a toast that echoed clearly in her ears.
Haa, to the ever-reliable…… stalwart lady knight Amber White……!
“Never dreamed you'd put my name up there with something precious like that, Your Highness. Flirting now? You started it.”
Her long-parched heart tickled, that secret joy and thrill bubbling up again.
Amber propped her chin, devouring his elegant nose and red lips with her eyes.
God…… driving me crazy. If I were just twelve years younger, I'd devour you whole…… Wouldn't I make a great catch? Top-tier imperial knight—anywhere you go, I'm prime wife material. The age…… yeah, the age. But thirty-two's not bad…… not forty yet? Still kinda……
As she inwardly cursed her age with a sigh of regret, a strange glint flashed in Amber's eyes.
Wait. Thinking about it, twelve years isn't a flaw among imperial nobles, right? That's perfect zodiac match age—no bad omens there. Yeah, if devouring feels too guilty…… just a light taste, lips only……?
Her fingers inched toward his cheek, swept up in a intoxicating rush of taboo thrill—
Snap—
Her mind flashed to her merciless liege, First Princess Victoria's icy glare.
“……”
Victoria already burned with near-mad possessiveness over Ian Sterling.
Dare touch her lord's—the Empire's top sword's—prey without permission, and she might snap my waist clean in half while I was still breathing.
Sure, Victoria wouldn't kill one of her top loyalists over that, but the tongue-lashing? Brutal.
Amber wasn't that unhinged.
Forget Victoria—even Second Princess Chloe was a factor.
She wore that sweet smile day-to-day, but cross her once and she turned scarier than her big sis.
Amber had no desire to make enemies of both princesses.
“……Hoo. Down, girl, Amber White. Gotta hold back to keep my neck intact. Held back to get promoted, held back to become a knight…… Marriage? Later.”
She shoved down the boiling desire and heaved a bone-deep sigh.
Finally, she tucked his blanket neatly up to his neck and left the room with reluctant steps.
Even as the door clicked shut, her gaze lingered on the bed.