The Low-Ranking Civil Servant Wants to Achieve Success

Then Kibon responded with a completely serious expression.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, I can leave the bill with you, Minister.”

“...No, forget it.”

My attempt at mocking a foreigner had failed. In these kinds of conversations, the one who doesn’t understand always wins.

Anyway, that’s how we leisurely arrived at the restaurant and placed our orders.

‘Hmm...’

I hadn’t noticed when we were eating in a rush earlier, but Kibon’s table manners were impeccable.

“Kibon.”

Unable to suppress my curiosity, I opened my mouth first.

“Where did you learn Imperial dining etiquette? It’s seriously impressive.”

Kibon looked slightly flustered.

Moments like this were one of the perks of being a superior—I didn’t need to grovel with “I apologize if I was being rude.”

Since he seemed unsure how to answer, I naturally shifted the topic toward myself.

“I’m from the Empire, and even I had to learn it at the Academy. It’s pretty complicated. I guess the Kingdom of Emoth must have similar etiquette.”

To my comment, Kibon slowly responded.

“I learned directly from my father.”

Startled, I swallowed my food with a gulp.

I could clearly see the line from Kibon’s file: “Family Relations: None.”

‘So he had a father... but maybe he passed away!’

Had I brought up a bad topic?

But at this point, awkwardly changing the subject would only make it more obvious I was overthinking it.

I forced a smile and said,

“Ah... he must’ve been a good man.”

“Yes.”

Then, surprisingly, Kibon continued slowly.

“My stepmother is also a good person. And the new sibling is cute.”

Huh.

This sounded like sensitive family stuff. Was I even supposed to hear this?

As I darted my eyes around uncomfortably, Kibon continued.

“Maybe if I hadn’t existed... everything would’ve been perfect.”

“...What?”

I was so caught off guard I almost dropped my fork.

“My father was forced to marry a woman he ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ didn’t love and had me as a result.”

Kibon spoke with a completely neutral expression.

“In trying to be considerate of me, the other three endured various inconveniences. They’re all definitely good people—but perhaps because of that, it makes me feel even more like I’m the one disrupting an otherwise perfect family.”

That feeling of being a foreign object lodged in a family... was something I knew very well.

But in my case, I’d allowed myself to openly resent the Roafi baron’s family. They deserved to be hated. In cases like Kibon’s, though, it just seemed... harder.

‘He must be bottling that up inside, unable to tell anyone...’

Wait—so are all three of them dead now? Is that why his file said “no family”?

Kibon spooned more food onto my plate as he spoke.

“Please eat more. You’ve got all these meal coupons. Why don’t you ever use them?”

He frowned at my wrist, which was swimming in the oversized sleeve.

“I don’t know who gave them to you, but they probably wanted you to eat well.”

“...Ah.”

That made me think of Kiaros—the one who’d given me the meal coupons.

He had been there earlier too, yet stayed quiet the entire time.

‘Well, yeah... he couldn’t really speak up in that setting.’

The Emperor. The Empress. Jaden.

There was no place for him among them.

‘Now that I think about it... Kibon’s story isn’t so different from Kiaros’s, is it?’

It had been a moment for Jaden, the Emperor, and the Empress to resolve their misunderstanding.

Just like how I quietly stepped out of that space, Kiaros must have quietly slipped away too.

The image of him standing alone, a little removed, for some reason lingered in my mind.

‘Maybe the reason Kiaros works so obsessively for the Empire... is because it’s the only way he can affirm his own existence.’

At the same time, something began to nag at me.

It was that one line I’d said to comfort Jaden.

[His Majesty and the Empress truly love each other, and Prince Jaden is the treasure born of their love.]

Ugh, I really shouldn’t have said that.

Kiaros must’ve heard it too.

Sure, it was meant for a kid, but adults aren’t immune to hurtful words either.

The thought made my appetite disappear.

“Minister.”

Kibon frowned as he watched me sit there, holding a fork but not eating.

“Minister?”

“Ah...”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“It’s, um...”

“Is the food not to your liking?”

“No, no, that’s not it.”

I forced myself to take a bite of the food Kibon had given me.

Then I awkwardly smiled and said,

“I just... keep thinking about His Highness the Crown Prince...”

“Kuhhuk!”

The ever-so-refined Kibon suddenly started coughing and choking violently.

“Drink some water.”

I calmly handed him a glass.

After coughing for a while, Kibon finally settled down. Then, in a flustered tone, he asked,

“Why... His Highness?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Of course I wasn’t going to tell him what happened earlier.

I glossed over it, and Kibon blinked slowly before saying,

“There’s a rumor all over the palace that you kicked His Highness the Crown Prince squarely.”

“I didn’t squarely kick him.”

“Then if it was just a light kick, why are you thinking about him?”

“I just... thought that I didn’t want him to be alone. That I wanted him to feel a little better. That’s all.”

Kibon looked at me quietly.

Thankfully, he didn’t press further, and that was the end of the topic.

However, after we finished our meal, Kibon casually added with a faint smile,

“His Highness is probably feeling pretty good, actually.”

Seriously. It wouldn’t kill him to just say it properly. “Pretty good”?

I grumbled in response.

“If you’re going to say it behind his back anyway, you might as well just say he’s happy.”

As always, he obeyed my orders without question and corrected himself instantly.

“If we’re saying it behind his back anyway, then His Highness the Crown Prince is just plain happy.”

“...”

He did what I asked, sure—but it was moments like this that reminded me of the limits of the Imperial language.

Kibon walked alongside me toward the palace and asked,

“Why not tell him directly?”

“Tell who what?”

“Tell His Highness the Crown Prince. About what you thought.”

“How could I dare say something like that to him?”

I replied listlessly.

“I’m just an ordinary person.”

“...”

“What’s with that skeptical look in your eyes?”

“Well, except for the occasional moment where your eyes go completely insane and catch people off guard... you might be ordinary in everyday life...”

“My eyes don’t go insane. My energy levels are too low to ever get excited like that.”

“Not getting excited but still going insane in the eyes—that’s even scarier. Anyway.”

Kibon spoke in a calm voice.

“If you told His Highness what you were thinking, I think he would be very—much more than you expect—happy.”

I shrugged half-heartedly, unconvinced.

We weren’t that close. Sharing such trivial thoughts would only come off as flattery.

Noticing that I wasn’t really listening, Kibon continued.

“Maybe His Highness the Crown Prince... maybe that position isn’t actually all that enjoyable for him.”

“That amazing position? Why not?”

“Because while the responsibility is immense, he might feel like no one genuinely needs him.”

“What are you talking about? He’s more than capable of handling that responsibility, and the entire Empire needs him...”

“No, I mean, the burden is heavy, but he doesn’t have anywhere to rest his heart. So maybe sometimes, he just wants to run away...”

My disinterested steps came to a complete halt.

“...What?”

Suddenly, it felt like my vision flipped.

“Run away?”

In the original novel, when Kiaros died, the entire continent went up in flames—and he wants to run away?

Run away!?

Kibon visibly flinched and began backing away. I glared at him and muttered darkly,

“Don’t say stuff like that.”

He kept retreating until he was stopped by a massive tree behind him. I advanced on him, face serious, like I was the Crown Prince himself.

He mumbled, “Y-you’re standing too close...” but I didn’t hear it.

I slammed my hand against the tree behind him with a loud thud, breathing heavily as I growled,

“Where do you think you’re going to run to?”