Extra's Path To No Harem

It was already late.

The sun had long since set, and the faint glow of magic lamps was all that illuminated the student council room.

Anna sat behind her desk, her posture straight but her expression unmistakably heavy.

"Have you found Louis?" she asked quietly.

The aide standing before her lowered his head. "We still haven't found any trace of him."

"…I see."

A soft sigh escaped her lips.

It had already been a week since Louis had disappeared.

A full seven days—and not a single lead.

No sightings. No messages. No signs that he had even passed through the capital after vanishing.

Where did you go…?

Anna pressed her fingers together on the desk, staring at the neatly stacked documents without really seeing them.

She had mobilized everything within her authority—informants, knights sympathetic to the student council, even discreet inquiries through imperial channels.

And yet, nothing.

It was as if Louis had simply dissolved into thin air.

"Are you alright?" the aide asked hesitantly. "You look very tired."

She let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Do I?"

Only then did she notice the dull ache behind her eyes, the heaviness in her shoulders. She hadn't slept properly in days.

Since the moment Louis had been falsely accused, she had been running nonstop—investigating, negotiating, arguing, pushing back against public opinion that had already branded him guilty.

All for someone who couldn't even defend himself anymore.

"What he did wasn't wrong," Anna said, more to herself than to anyone else. "It was the only rational choice."

Louis had acted to prevent the situation from spiraling completely out of control.

He had made himself the lightning rod, absorbing all the hatred so the Academy—and the Empire—wouldn't descend into chaos.

If he hadn't stepped forward then…

Anna closed her eyes briefly.

She didn't even want to imagine how much worse things could have become.

Bloodshed. Uprisings. A fracture between the Academy and the capital that might never have healed.

Yet despite all that—

He was now branded a criminal.

A villain.

And he had vanished before she could clear his name.

"Idiot…" she murmured softly.

The aide hesitated for a moment before speaking again.

"Please… take care of yourself."

Anna almost laughed at that.

How, exactly, was she supposed to take care of herself in a situation like this?

Among the hardline nobles, Louis was still being labeled a traitor.

Whispers spread through salons and council chambers alike, twisting the truth into something unrecognizable. And with the arrest warrant still not formally withdrawn, the pressure on her only continued to grow.

Her worries piled up one after another, leaving her with barely any room to breathe.

"I'm fine," Anna replied quietly. "I won't collapse over something like this. More importantly… what happened to those people?"

The aide straightened. "We've apprehended most of the organization. The only ones who remain at large are the higher-ranking figures. Some nobles were among those captured—individuals who had been persuaded, or perhaps pressured, into joining their cause."

"That's… at least some good news," Anna murmured.

Despite everything weighing on her, the report brought a small sense of relief.

Capturing the core of the group meant the worst of the chaos had passed. Even if figures like Bane were still unaccounted for, the public's anger had already cooled significantly.

And that was all because of Louis.

If he hadn't stepped in at that moment—if he hadn't stopped Bane's execution—the Empire would have been plunged into something far uglier.

The bloodshed, the retaliation, the irreversible damage… none of it had come to pass because of him.

Anna lowered her gaze, her fingers curling tightly in her lap.

I'm sorry, Louis.

The words echoed silently in her chest.

It was because of her that he was now trapped in this position.

Because of her hesitation. Because of her greed—her desire to resolve everything cleanly, perfectly, without sacrifice.

If she hadn't reached out.

If she hadn't tried to shoulder everything herself.

Louis wouldn't be bearing this burden.

Regret weighed heavily on her heart, pressing down until it felt hard to breathe.

No matter how many rational explanations she gave herself, the self-blame refused to fade. It gnawed at her relentlessly, replaying every decision she'd made, every moment where she could have chosen differently.

But slowly, amid the guilt, something else began to surface.

Resolve

Anna lifted her head, her unfocused gaze sharpening little by little.

This couldn't end with quiet regret or words she'd never dare say out loud. Apologies alone wouldn't protect anyone—not in a world like this.

If Louis had stepped forward to protect the Empire, standing at the center of chaos and shouldering hatred that wasn't his to bear…

Then she would step forward to protect him.

No matter how many nobles blocked her path.

No matter how deep the mire of politics ran.

No matter how heavy the cost became.

She would see this through.

The dull throb behind her eyes reminded her how long it had been since she'd last slept properly.

Days of tension, paperwork, emergency meetings, and sleepless nights had worn her down, but even that exhaustion felt distant now.

Anna slowly clasped her hands together.

It was almost embarrassing. She wasn't someone who prayed. She trusted systems, logic, preparation—things she could control. Gods had never been part of her calculations.

And yet…

Under the pale, unextinguished glow of the late-night lamps, she closed her eyes.

'Please… keep him safe.'

Her lips barely moved, the words dissolving into the silence of the room.

Protect him from harm. From false accusations. From those who would use him as a scapegoat.

She exhaled softly.

If there truly was a god watching over this world—one who listened, even occasionally—then just this once, she hoped they would hear her.

Not for herself.

But for Louis.

When she opened her eyes again, the fatigue was still there, the weight of responsibility unchanged. But beneath it, something else had taken root—quiet, unyielding resolve.

She straightened her back and reached for the documents on her desk.

Prayers were fine.

But tomorrow, she would act.

*****

In a remote corner of the capital—far from the bustling main streets and watchful eyes of the guards—

"Yaaawn…"

A long, unguarded yawn slipped out of me as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. My body felt heavy, exhaustion clinging to my limbs like mud.

Scratching at my tangled hair—sticky and rough from not bathing for far too long—I pushed myself up from the cold ground.

The smell of damp stone and old trash filled my nose. I'd long since stopped caring.

For the past week, I'd been living like a rat.

Hiding in narrow alleys. Slipping through abandoned buildings. Moving only when I had to.

Everywhere I went, the same thing greeted me.

Wanted posters.

My face, crudely printed but unmistakable, plastered across walls, tavern boards, and guard checkpoints all over the capital.

Charge: Insulting the Imperial Family.

I let out a dry laugh.

What a joke.

I hadn't even been present when the real crime happened.

At worst, I'd indirectly helped the bastard who tried to assassinate the princess escape. But apparently, that was more than enough for them to paint a target on my back.

To the Empire, someone had to take the fall.

And I was convenient.

"Figures…" I muttered under my breath.

If they caught me, there'd be no trial worth speaking of. No chance to explain myself. Once the words imperial dignity were involved, the verdict was already decided.

Still, I was alive.

Barely.

Thanks to concealment magic, I'd been able to move around without being immediately noticed—ducking patrols, slipping past checkpoints, vanishing into crowds before anyone could get a good look at me.

It wasn't perfect, and it drained my mana faster than I liked, but it was enough to keep me breathing.

Survival, at least for now.

I peeked out from the shadowed alley, carefully scanning the street beyond. Knights passed by in pairs, their armor gleaming even in the dull morning light.

"…They're really serious about this."

The Emperor's anger must have been real. This level of mobilization wasn't normal—not for a single suspect.

Which meant one thing.

Time was running out.

I pulled my hood lower, tightened the worn cloak around my shoulders, and slipped back into the shadows where the lamplight couldn't quite reach.

So this was life on the streets.

Honestly… it wasn't as bad as I'd imagined.

I'd thought living as a noble for so long would've dulled me, but maybe not.

Maybe I was more adaptable than I gave myself credit for. Or maybe—just maybe—I'd always been a little better suited to this kind of place.

Surprisingly, there weren't many real inconveniences. Food was cheap if you knew where to look.

Places to sleep existed, as long as you didn't mind hard ground and suspicious smells. And information? Information flowed far more freely here than in any noble salon.

Sure, I'd become a fugitive overnight.

But I wasn't particularly worried.

Given enough time, Anna would sort things out. She always did.

…Probably.

"Hey, kid. Want to have a chat with us?"

I sighed inwardly.

Unwelcome visitors had a talent for finding me just as I was drifting toward sleep, my eyes heavy and my thoughts dull.

I cracked one eyelid open and saw them—three men, maybe four, swaggering toward me with that unmistakable back-alley confidence that came from numbers rather than skill.

How annoying.

This spot had taken effort to secure. Dry ground, decent visibility, and only one escape route to worry about. A perfect place to rest. And now these idiots wanted to ruin it.

Over the past week of surviving in the alleys, I'd learned something important.

This place had rules.

Not written ones. Not fair ones. But rules all the same.

The strong took what they wanted.

The weak lost everything.

Simple. Honest, in its own ugly way.

And frankly? I didn't hate it.

Because here—unlike in the Academy or the political mess I'd been dragged into—strength actually mattered.

And no one here was stronger than me.

They must've mistaken my quiet posture and shabby clothes for weakness. Maybe they thought I was just another runaway kid or failed apprentice with nowhere to go.

Unfortunate for them.

I slowly stood, stretching the stiffness from my shoulders and rolling my neck until it gave a soft crack.

The men paused for just a second, their confidence wavering as they got a better look at me.

I lifted my head.

Then I smiled.

Not a friendly smile. Not a polite one.

A cold, knowing smile—the kind that said I already knew how this would end.

"If you're here to talk," I said lazily, my voice low and steady, "you picked the wrong person."

....indeed they picked the wrong person.

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Author Note.

Thanks for reading.