They say people can faint from being too happy.

“Ah, I was really impressed with the work you submitted. The mythological interpretation with an ‘angel’ appearing directly… it didn’t quite vibe with the original atmosphere, but it felt like it could be the seed of something really unique.”

“Heh, heh… to have my work praised by Author Homer himself, what an honor—ugh…”

“Ah?”

But I never expected to see such a scene unfold in real life.

And it wasn’t just a one-time thing.

* * *

There was a minor incident where a winner fainted, but fortunately, the ceremony went off without a hitch.

The fainting winner quickly recovered after receiving treatment from a rushing priest.

“Alright, moving on, we have the Best Award to present. The Best Award goes to—‘Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde’ written by Maiden! Congratulations! Please come up to the stage!”

“Yes~.”

Even without seeing her face, I knew right away who it was.

In fact, I recognized her the moment I read her work.

A radical piece where Dr. Jekyll drinks a potion and awakens his inner ‘femininity,’ Hyde.

“It was a very unique and interesting novel. The portrayal of ‘Mrs. Hyde,’ who has Jekyll’s memories but can only see herself as a woman, was exquisite.”

“Oh my, to receive such praise from Author Homer, what an honor indeed.”

The Empire’s third prince.

He was the author of ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde,’ while disguised in the familiar form of a maid.

The prince, covering his mouth with his fingertips, laughed lightly.

“Just thinking about meeting Author Homer at the ceremony made me so excited.”

“Haha… thank you.”

Every time I face this gentleman, my mouth dries up. It feels like an invisible pressure is bearing down on me.

Is this what power feels like?

It’s terrifying, this power!

I need to wrap this up and hand over the award quickly.

“Now, I will present the award. The Best Award…”

After handing the award to the prince.

And after giving the grand prize to a participant who adapted the original work into a play called ‘Jekyll and Hyde,’

I recited the lines I had prepared and got ready for the final event.

“Once again, I’d like to thank everyone who participated in the contest. To show our appreciation, we have a little surprise. Miss Dorling?”

“Yes!”

“Please bring the potion.”

Miss Dorling, the president, wheeled out a desk that had been hidden behind the stage.

On top of the desk was a concoction created by an alchemist.

“This is the potion from my novel ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde’ that awakens Hyde.”

My unexpected announcement caused a stir among the people in the auditorium.

I tapped the magic amplifier to calm everyone down and continued.

“Although I said that, it’s actually a bit different. While the potion in the novel separates the ‘evil side’ of the soul to manifest it, this potion allows the soul’s true form to show itself in the body without the fear of losing control like in the story. So, feel free to use it.”

“Are you saying it’s okay to use—”

“Yes. I plan to give one to each of the awardees today, but only to those who are interested.”

My statement set the auditorium ablaze with excitement.

Some people looked eager, while others turned pale at the thought of the ‘Hyde’ from the novel.

And then,

In the crowd, one person stared intently at the ‘potion’ with a particularly stern expression.

“If any awardees wish to receive the potion, please step forward.”

As people hesitated, a man—who looked like a woman—was the first to dash forward.

It was the Empire’s third prince.

* * *

The Empire’s third prince.

Idris’s very existence was a challenge to the imperial dignity. Born a prince entitled to wield all the empire offered, he nevertheless identified as a ‘woman.’

He had sought out exorcists, believing he was possessed by a demon, and met mental magicians at the magical tower due to his supposed madness.

But the results were always normal, normal, normal. There was nothing wrong with the prince; he simply defined himself as a woman, regardless of being born a man.

Eventually, the Emperor buried the existence of the third prince under layers of shadow.

“Your Highness. Are you really planning to take this suspicious potion?”

“Enoch.”

“Taking an unknown potion recklessly is—”

“When you think about it, we’ve known each other for a long time, haven’t we?”

“Yes.”

The shadow of the third prince.

Enoch was a royal bastard. He shared royal blood but couldn’t declare that truth.

That’s why he could be a shadow.

If the third prince should suddenly kick the bucket before the Emperor, Enoch would ‘truly’ take on the role of the third prince.

Both Enoch and the prince were aware of this unspoken reality.

“Enoch. Don’t you find it exhausting to live your life as someone’s shadow?”

“I only see it as an honor to represent Your Highness.”

“I find it incredibly boring. Hiding behind a shadow like this… only contemplating.”

If Enoch had shown even a hint of disloyalty towards the prince, the person now being called ‘Your Highness’ would likely have been Idris, not Enoch.

The prince, faced with this realization, murmured with a quivering voice.

“Honestly, even if drinking this potion can truly validate my ‘soul’s form,’ maybe nothing will change. It might be more comfortable for His Majesty if the shadow continues to play the prince instead of admitting that the prince was actually a princess.”

“Your Highness.”

“Enoch. So, um. I just want to confirm. That I… wasn’t wrong.”

With a wistful smile, the prince opened the bottle of potion and, without hesitation, drank it all in one go.

“Ah… it’s not as painful as I expected… have I changed much?”

At first glance, the prince seemed unchanged.

Still beautiful, his deep eyes could make any man shrink back like a frog in front of a snake, and his lazy smile sent unsuspecting men’s hearts racing.

However, Enoch, who had watched over the prince all his life, could spot the changes.

“You’ve changed a lot.”

“I should have drunk the potion in front of a mirror. I just made the same mistake as Dr. Jekyll. Haha.”

His previously plain physique, disguised beneath lace decorations, now visibly swelled, and he appeared slightly shorter, appearing altogether more feminine.

Though his features had hardly changed—

Even Enoch, who had always played the role of the prince’s shadow, felt his heart race at the sudden femininity radiating from her.

The prince, momentarily captivated by her own body, suddenly laughed awkwardly and covered her mouth as if embarrassed.

“Things feel a bit… empty down there. I must truly have become a woman.”

“Your Highness.”

“I need to ask Mr. Homer where I can get more of this potion. Enoch, we should plan—”

“…”

“Enoch?”

Enoch turned his head away from the prince’s gaze.

It was only then that the prince blinked in confusion and felt the warm liquid streaming down her cheeks.

It was inappropriate for a servant to witness their master’s tears, which is why Enoch had turned away.

Realizing this fact, the prince wiped the tears away with the back of her hand and joked,

“Heh… I must look really ridiculous right now, huh?”

“Not at all. Your Highness is always beautiful.”

“Hehe, how would you know when you’re looking away? Just give me a moment. The tears will stop soon…”

“…”

“Ha ha… why won’t the tears stop? Ugh, just a sec, sniff, sob…”

That day.

During the carriage ride back to the imperial palace,

Enoch had no choice but to keep turning his head away until the carriage stopped.

* * *

After the award ceremony,

I quickly explained my future plans to Miss Dorling.

“I’m thinking of starting an academy to nurture literary talents.”

“An academy…?”

“Yes. I’m planning to kick it off as a pilot project centered around a few of the award winners from this contest.”

The main purpose of hosting the ‘Second Creative Contest’ was to secure promising writers. Ultimately, I wanted to teach these aspiring writers knowledge and skills from my previous life to churn out more works.

Especially for genres like ‘detective novels’ or ‘historical fiction,’ which can’t just be plagiarized with past life knowledge, I needed collaborators to produce these works.

It’s a bit like forming a little literary fellowship.

“Miss, do you think it’s doable?”

“If it’s just a pilot run, it shouldn’t be too difficult. But formally establishing an academy would need the empire’s approval… Oh! Since the Third Prince is supporting you, it might be easier than you think!”

“A pilot program with just a handful of people is adequate for now, so we can take our time figuring out the official academy status.”

“Got it!”

Awesome.

I’ll leave it to Miss Dorling to handle everything. She may be a bit melodramatic, but she’s more than capable.

In the meantime, I can continue to push literature forward my way.

“Miss.”

“Yes!”

“Could you recommend a magazine to me?”

“A magazine?”

“Oh, a cheap one would be even better. Something I can read once and toss away.”

“Huh?”