Surviving A Novel I Don't Remember: A Tutor's Guide To Staying Alive

The air in the Sanctum, which had finally begun to settle into a stunned, respectful hush, was ripped apart by Alaric’s voice. It wasn’t just a roar; it was a challenge to the very foundation of the throne.

Julian’s heart hammered against his ribs. He felt the phantom itch of a ’Danger’ notification that never came. He was flying blind now, no longer able to see the rising level of Aurelian’s murderous intent or his impending fate.

Behind the silk veil, Aurelian’s silhouette went perfectly still.

The silence that followed was more terrifying than the roar. The High Priest and the white-clad Inquisitors looked toward the dais, their faces etched with a sudden, sharp apprehension. To call the Emperor a liar in front of the Holy delegation was to invite a catastrophe.

"Lucien," Aurelian’s voice finally drifted down, quiet and razor-edged. "You have your prize. You have the boy, you have the truth, and you have your freedom. Do not push the Sun into an eclipse."

"I am not asking for a favor, Aurelian!" Alaric stepped forward, his hand still firmly anchoring Julian to his side, his cloak billowing like a storm cloud behind them. "You stood before this court and gave your word. You subjected this man to the Inquisition’s fire to satisfy your own sickness. If the word of the Emperor is worth less than the dirt on a traveler’s boot, then tell the Empire now. Tell the Holy delegation that the Sun of Viremount is a coward who hides behind a veil when he is proven wrong!"

The nobles gasped. Several Marquis gripped their seats, looking toward the Golden Guards, expecting the order for execution to be barked at any second.

But it never came.

Julian tugged at Alaric’s sleeve, his voice a frantic whisper.

"Lucien, stop. It’s enough. Let’s just go. Please."

But Alaric didn’t budge. He stood like a glacier—unyielding and cold. He wanted more than just Julian’s life; he wanted the Emperor to bend. He wanted a public acknowledgement of the dignity Aurelian had tried to strip from the man he loved.

Slowly, the silk veil was parted.

Aurelian stepped out into the light. He looked exhausted, the gold of his robes seemingly too heavy for his slumped shoulders. He descended the stairs of the dais slowly, one foot after the other, until he stood on the same marble floor as the scholar and the Duke.

The Golden Guards moved to stand by his side, but he waved them back with a weary flick of his hand. He stopped ten paces away from Julian and Alaric, his golden eyes searching Julian’s face—not with the cunning glee of the past week, but with the hollow gaze of a man who had looked into the Mirror and realized he was the only one in the room with a shadow.

The Emperor took a long, shallow breath. His jaw tightened, the muscle clenching in his cheek.

"Julian Von Astrea," Aurelian said, his voice echoing to the furthest reaches of the silent hall.

Julian felt Alaric’s grip tighten, and it felt like a silent promise of protection.

"I..." the Emperor began, the word catching in his throat like a shard of glass. He looked at the floor, then back at Julian’s mismatched eyes. "I have... caused you unnecessary suffering. I allowed my suspicions to override my judgment. For the trials you endured in the name of the Crown. I... apologize."

The words were clipped, forced out through gritted teeth, but they were spoken. A public apology from the Sun to a tutor. It was a humiliation that would be written into the Imperial records for centuries.

This apology... Julian knew it was not with utmost sincerity. He knew it was not enough to wash away the humiliation he had subjected him to, restore the dignity he had lost, or undo the pain he had endured,... but listening to this apology made his chest light.

Seeming like... he had won.

Aurelian’s eyes flickered to Alaric, a flash of the old, bitter fire returning. "Are you satisfied, Duke? Or would you like me to kneel as well?"

Alaric didn’t smile. He didn’t look triumphant. He simply nodded once, a cold, sharp acknowledgement of the apology. "I shall remember the debt you owe me, Aurelian. Both the good and the bad."

The bad that was all the things he made Julian go through, and the good that was his patience and not using the assassination attempt to get rid of Julian right away.

He had his chance... he could’ve just used this excuse to finally get rid of the persistent roach, but he hesitated and gave Julian a chance to prove his innocence.

This was the one and only good thing he had done for them, and Alaric would make sure to remember it.

"We are leaving."

Alaric turned, sweeping Julian along with him. As they walked toward the massive oak doors of the Sanctum, Julian felt the weight of a hundred gazes on his back.

He didn’t look back at the Emperor or the nobles who had been expecting him to fall, expecting him to be taken to the pyre, and he did not look toward his father hiding in the crowd, hoping to see his downfall; he just... looked ahead.

You know, the light at the end of the tunnel is always brighter if you’re looking forward and not stopping.

This time... it seemed like the light didn’t just get brighter. He... he actually reached it. That light.

As they stepped out into the crisp morning air of the Capital, the white banners of mourning were fluttering in the wind. Alaric led him straight toward the black-and-silver carriage where Kaelen was already waiting, his hand on the door.

"It’s over, Julian," Alaric whispered as he stretched his hand out to help him. "No more games. No more veils."

"Yes, and no more secrets."

Alaric did not ask how he did it with the truth serum before, and he did not ask how he did it with the mirror this time either. And that was because he trusted Julian, Kim Jowoon, unconditionally. He did not need an explanation to understand or believe in his lover.

Julian could somewhat feel the pulsing warmth radiating from Duke as he offered his hand to help him into the carriage.

Julian gave his hand, and the Duke squeezed tight, before bringing it to his lips.

If the system were active now, Julian thought, I think Lucien’s affection level would’ve already climbed 100%. He beamed, finally understanding that the affection from the Duke, though slightly involved, was not up to the system.

Julian slumped into the seat, his eyes drifting to the window.

The carriage began to move, the wheels rattling against the cobblestones as they sped out of the palace grounds.

When he came to this world, it was all foreign, it was all painful, and everyone was out to get him. Everyone... was trying to use him. But not anymore.

For the first time, Julian didn’t feel like a stranded character in a book. He felt the cold air on his skin, the ache in his knees, and the solid, warm reality of the man sitting across from him.

He felt... like his own main character.