When the Female Lead Went Off-Script, the Main Male Lead Became the Tyrant's Empress

Arden’s father had always been a confident and dignified Emperor.

To Arden, the sight of his imperial father clutching his chest and howling like a beast had been more shocking than the death of the older sister he could barely remember.

It felt similar now.

The only difference was that the person stirring those emotions within him wasn’t the Emperor, but the Grand Duke.

He had felt pity and anger for his abused niece, and seeing his imperial father rage like a furious tidal wave at those horrific marks had left him deeply unsettled.

But the one who concerned him more was Haster, who had sunk into brooding silence.

Haster always looked down upon everything with eyes that carried the chill of winter.

But Clary was the exception.

At times, his deep, clear blue eyes sank even farther, submerging themselves in an ocean of thought.

From the difference in temperature alone, Arden could tell that Haster was worried about Clary.

Had Haster never seen a young girl before?

No.

Every social season, girls who had only just debuted in high society were brought before Haster by parents whose eyes burned with the determination to make their daughters the Grand Duchess.

Each time, Haster would shoot them a contemptuous glare before leaving.

Then had he never seen an exceptional beauty before?

As if.

Although it was called a grand duchy, the North ruled by the Grand Duke was practically a quasi-independent nation.

There was no shortage of beautiful women who dressed themselves like magnificent peacocks and approached him in hopes of catching the eye of a man whose authority was no different from a king’s.

His defenses were so impenetrable that Arden had once indirectly asked whether something might be wrong with him in that regard, and he had nearly gone to meet his late imperial mother and sister.

Perhaps it was because of Clary’s personality.

Clary occasionally glanced around to gauge people’s reactions as she struggled with the rapidly changing situation and unfamiliar surroundings, but her actions and words were completely uninhibited.

Yes. Just like how she was fiercely slapping that young nobleman across the face in the rose garden over there…….

“No, wait!”

Smack!

Never in Arden’s life had he heard such a crisp and satisfying sound.

It would have been better if it hadn’t been the sound of someone being slapped.

After suffering the unexpected blow, the unrelated man clutched his cheek and collapsed limply to the side like the tragic heroine of a melodrama.

“W-What are you doing?”

Why did she suddenly hit someone?

Was this it?

Was this why Haster had taken an interest in her?

Was she even human, or was she a Maltese that refused to hold back?

“Why are you hitting people?”

Horrified, Arden rushed over and grabbed his niece.

“That bastard kept leering at me disgustingly even after I told him to stop looking!”

“Is it a crime to look at someone because she’s beautiful?”

The man, who had been standing there in a daze with his mouth hanging open, recovered his senses and retorted.

All while subtly shifting the blame for his own wrongdoing onto Clary.

“If I told you to stop looking because it made me uncomfortable, then you should’ve stopped. And do you fucking think my face is attached to my chest?”

“Th-That is a false accusation. Do you have any evidence?”

“No.”

At Arden’s clean, unhesitating answer, the man who had been preparing to argue faltered.

“What is your name?”

“…Morris Purgat.”

“Ah, the court preacher’s son.”

Clary, whose shoulders Arden had been holding all this time, twisted her body in an attempt to escape.

But his firm hands showed no sign of releasing her.

Arden paid no heed to the fierce glare piercing his skin.

“Does your father preach that his son should faithfully indulge his lust?”

“P-Pardon?”

“I asked whether molesting a woman who has told you no is part of your doctrine.”

Glaring at Arden as though asking, Are you my uncle or that perverted bastard’s uncle? Clary stopped struggling and watched Arden and Morris.

“I know very little because I have always kept my distance from religion, so I ask for your understanding.”

Morris’s complexion turned ashen.

“That aside, how long do you intend to continue defiling my garden?”

Arden’s gaze upon him was icy.

The shameless man desperately searched for an excuse, but at the Crown Prince’s order to leave, he fled in a panic without even managing a proper farewell.

Only then did Arden release Clary.

Her stubborn, vivid blue eyes collided with his amethyst-purple ones.

“You are not a member of the imperial family.”

At his blunt declaration, Clary raised one eyebrow.

She had no idea why he would suddenly bring that up in this situation, but she reflexively retorted.

“His Majesty the Emperor is my grandfather, so why…”

“There is no one who doesn’t know whose blood runs through your veins. But you haven’t even been formally entered into the imperial genealogy, so you are no different from an illegitimate scion of the Emperor. Your title may have been stolen from you, but as things stand, you are merely an orphan with no title, no property, and no proper education whatsoever.”