Peak Incel vs Peak Princess Syndrome
The moment I stepped into the Cheonje imperial palace, I could feel the weight of countless eyes on me.
It wasn’t the usual “who’s that guy?” kind of stare. These were the kind of looks you’d give a walking natural disaster. A mix of fear, curiosity, and a hint of “please don’t break anything.”
I adjusted the hem of my robe with a sigh. Even though I’d possessed this body, the sensation of silk sliding against skin still felt foreign. Back on Earth, my daily uniform had been a hoodie and sweatpants. Now I was dressed like some high-ranking noble from a historical drama.
“Your Majesty is waiting inside,” the eunuch whispered, voice trembling slightly. Poor guy looked like he might faint if I so much as raised an eyebrow.
I nodded and pushed open the massive doors.
The audience chamber was exactly as extravagant as you’d expect from an alternate-universe imperial palace. Gold dragons coiled around pillars, incense smoke curled through the air like living things, and at the far end sat the emperor himself, flanked by his most trusted officials.
But my eyes weren’t on him.
They were on the woman standing to his right.
Princess Hwa-yeon.
Even among the beauties of the imperial family, she stood out like a flame in the dark. Long black hair that seemed to drink in the light, eyes sharp enough to cut glass, and an aura that screamed main character energy. The kind of princess who’d make any normal protagonist fall to their knees in three seconds flat.
Too bad I wasn’t normal.
She’s the one with peak princess syndrome, huh?
I’d read the original novel. In it, Princess Hwa-yeon was the ultimate yandere. Beautiful, talented, and completely insane when it came to the male lead. The type who’d burn down a country if her beloved even glanced at another woman.
And right now, that same princess was staring at me like I was a bug that had crawled onto her favorite dress.
“So you’re the one they call the Reclusive Master,” she said, voice cold enough to freeze the air between us. “The man who defeated the Heavenly Demon in a single strike and then immediately went back to sleep for three days.”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah, well… fighting takes a lot out of you. Especially when you’re trying not to destroy the mountain in the process.”
A few officials gasped. The emperor’s eyebrow twitched.
Princess Hwa-yeon’s lips curled into a dangerous smile. “How arrogant. Do you truly believe your power places you above the imperial family?”
Here we go.
I could already see the flags. This was the classic “arrogant young master meets even more arrogant princess” scene. In the original story, the male lead would’ve used this moment to show off, win her over with his mysterious charm, and trigger her obsessive affection meter.
But I wasn’t the male lead. I was the guy who just wanted to go home and take a nap.
“Your Highness,” I said carefully, “I have zero interest in power struggles, court politics, or becoming anyone’s husband. I just want to live quietly in my little hut on the mountain. That’s all.”
The silence that followed was so complete I could hear a pin drop somewhere in the back of the hall.
Princess Hwa-yeon’s eyes narrowed. “You dare reject me before I’ve even offered anything?”
“I’m not rejecting you. I’m rejecting the entire concept of getting involved with the imperial family. No offense.”
One of the ministers looked like he was about to have a stroke. The emperor, however, seemed… amused?
“Interesting,” the emperor murmured. “Most men would kill for a single glance from my daughter. Yet you speak as if she were offering you a bowl of cold porridge.”
I shrugged. “Cold porridge is pretty good, actually. Especially with some kimchi on the side.”
Princess Hwa-yeon’s aura flared. A visible wave of qi rippled out from her, making the candles flicker violently.
A technique that could reduce an entire mountain to ash. The princess had just activated one of the imperial family’s secret arts without warning.
The officials scrambled back in panic. Even the emperor looked mildly concerned.
But I simply raised one hand.
A wall of pure, condensed qi formed in front of me. Not flashy. Not destructive. Just… there. Like an immovable mountain that had decided today was not the day to move.
Her palm strike slammed into my barrier and shattered like glass against steel. The backlash sent her staggering back a step, eyes wide with shock.
“Impossible…” she whispered. “No one has ever blocked my Heavenly Flame Palm so easily.”
I lowered my hand and let out a long, tired sigh.
“Look, Your Highness. I didn’t come here to fight. I came because the emperor personally sent me an invitation with the words ‘or else’ written in extremely polite calligraphy. I’m not trying to show off. I’m not trying to win your heart. I just want to go back to my mountain, drink tea, and maybe read some web novels if this world even has internet.”
Princess Hwa-yeon stared at me for a long moment. Then something terrifying happened.
She smiled.
Not the cold, aristocratic smile from before. This one was soft. Almost… affectionate.
“You’re different,” she said quietly. “All the other men grovel or boast. But you… you truly don’t care.”
Oh no.
I recognized that look. That was the exact expression the original princess wore right before she went full yandere and started eliminating every woman within a fifty-mile radius of the male lead.
“Your Majesty,” she turned to her father, voice suddenly sweet as honey. “I have decided. I will marry this man.”
The emperor choked on his tea. “What?”
“I will marry the Reclusive Master. No one else will do.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Your Highness, I literally just said—”
“You said you wanted a quiet life,” she interrupted, eyes sparkling with dangerous obsession. “I can give you that. A quiet life… with me. In the palace. Where I can keep you safe. Where no other woman can ever approach you.”
This is bad. This is very, very bad.
The emperor looked like he wanted to retire on the spot. The officials were frozen in various states of panic. And Princess Hwa-yeon was staring at me like I was the last bowl of rice in a famine.
I took a deep breath.
“Fine,” I said.
Everyone’s eyes snapped to me.
“I’ll marry you.”
Princess Hwa-yeon’s face lit up with pure joy.
“But,” I continued, “on one condition.”
Her smile didn’t falter. “Name it.”
“We live in my hut on the mountain. No palace. No servants. No imperial duties. Just you, me, and the occasional delivery of snacks from the capital. If you can live like a normal person for one year without going crazy, I’ll officially become your husband. Deal?”
For the first time since I’d met her, Princess Hwa-yeon looked genuinely speechless.
Then she laughed. A bright, beautiful sound that echoed through the entire audience chamber.
“You really are interesting,” she said, eyes shining with what I could only describe as peak princess syndrome at maximum power. “Very well. One year in your little mountain hut. I accept.”
The emperor rubbed his temples. “This is not how I expected today to go.”
I just shrugged again.
At least now I might get some peace and quiet. Maybe. Probably not.
As the princess continued to stare at me with that terrifyingly devoted expression, I couldn’t help but think:
I came here to avoid the plot, but it looks like I just walked straight into the hardest difficulty route.
Peak recluse versus peak princess syndrome.
May the laziest one win.