The sun had already climbed above the palace spires, scattering golden light across the marble walls of the Aurelius Empire's capital. Servants were sprinting across the polished hallways, their hurried footsteps echoing through the vast corridors.
"His Highness is still asleep!"
"He has an imperial gathering in twenty minutes!"
"Wake him! Wake him now!"
But inside the farthest wing of the palace—deep within a quiet garden, past a hallway no one used except a select few—Sohag Aurelius, youngest prince of the strongest empire in the continent, remained in a deep, peaceful sleep.
A breeze rustled the curtains. A bird chirped outside the window.
Sohag didn't stir.
Even asleep, he looked almost ethereal. Soft black hair fell over calm, perfectly shaped eyes. His features were so beautiful that even palace maids blushed simply by looking at him—even though he barely noticed them. His breathing was steady, elegant, almost serene.
Then something strange happened.
The air around him rippled.
A faint, almost undetectable pulse of power spread outward like a heartbeat. The wooden floor groaned softly. A little flower in the vase beside his bed grew an entire inch.
This was normal.
This was simply what happened whenever Sohag slept.
Because Sohag's power grew—not through battle, training, or study—
—but by doing absolutely nothing.
The more he slept, the stronger he became.
It was absurd. Unnatural. Terrifying.
And of course, Sohag didn't care.
He slowly blinked awake.
"…Huh."
That was all he said as his half-lidded eyes opened with calm indifference.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes with the slow, lazy motion of someone who would much prefer another hour—or ten—of sleep.
Before he could move further, his door burst open.
"Sohag!!"
A girl with soft chestnut hair stormed into the room. Her eyes—gentle brown yet carrying an unsettling glint—locked onto him immediately.
Lyra Valeflora.
His childhood friend.
His shadow.
His most devoted admirer.
And quietly… his most dangerous one.
"You're late!" she scolded, stomping toward him. "Do you know how much chaos you've caused this morning? Everyone is panicking! Your father's going to scold you, your sisters are going to lecture you, and—"
Sohag blinked at her, silent as always.
Lyra froze.
His drowsy gaze turned toward her.
Even now, she couldn't help it; her heart pounded so hard she thought her chest would burst. She tried to maintain her usual mask—bright smile, friendly childhood-friend warmth—but deep inside—
If anyone else had been the one to wake him up… they'd be dead.
She exhaled, smoothing her hair.
"…Good morning," she whispered, her voice softening instantly.
Sohag nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
She melted on the spot.
"A-Anyway! Get up." Lyra puffed her cheeks, regaining her bravado. "Your father ordered all princes and princesses to gather. And your sisters have been looking for you everywhere."
Sohag yawned quietly.
Then, without warning, he lay back down.
Lyra nearly screamed.
"Sohag!! No going back to sleep! I— I forbid it!"
He stared at her from the pillow, silent, expression neutral.
Lyra's hands trembled.
"…Fine," she whispered, looking away shyly. "Just—five more minutes. Only because you look cute."
Before she could sink deeper into her own madness, a knock sounded on the door. Helplessly, Lyra hurried to answer, adjusting her expression to appear normal.
The door opened to reveal one of Sohag's elder sisters—Princess Helena Aurelius, the Empire's strongest knight. Her silver armor gleamed beneath her blue cloak, her posture imposing and noble.
"Sohag. Father awaits—"
She stopped mid-sentence upon seeing him half-buried in his sheets.
Her eyelid twitched.
"You overslept again."
Sohag remained silent.
Helena sighed heavily, yet her eyes lingered on him just a bit too long. Even she, a paragon of discipline, found him irresistibly charming.
"Lyra," Helena said softly. "Please help him prepare."
"Yes, Princess!" Lyra replied sweetly.
Helena left with a sigh.
Lyra closed the door.
Then turned back toward Sohag.
Her sweet smile melted instantly into something dangerously possessive.
"That woman was staring at you for a long time," she muttered.
Sohag blinked.
She cleared her throat sharply, returning to her cheerful expression.
"Never mind! Let's get you ready."
And thus, while the empire panicked, the youngest prince slowly got dressed at a speed barely above that of a snail.
---
Minutes later, Sohag finally stepped out of his room.
Every servant in the hall froze.
Every noble girl stared.
Every knight gulped.
The prince walked in silence, expression calm, steps unhurried. And without consciously doing anything, the very air around him shimmered with faint divine pressure.
Even the sunlight seemed to fall more beautifully around him.
A maid fainted.
Two noble girls blushed violently.
Lyra glared at all of them.
Sohag did not notice any of it.
He simply continued walking—quiet, introverted, uninterested in attention—as Lyra followed behind him like a loyal shadow, smiling sweetly while evaluating which girls she'd need to threaten later.
And so began the day of the prince who grew stronger by doing nothing at all—
—unaware that before long, twelve extraordinary women from across the world would be fated to fall in love with him.