Hmm. What is this? Such a reaction?

Sikar Blake couldn’t have actually hit his head or gone… gone mad, right…?

It was so bizarre—utterly bizarre—that Sikar, who I expected at most to respond with something like “You raised him well,” was now chuckling heartily. It seemed impossible unless something unusual had happened.

So I cautiously asked him.

“Sikar, are you alright?”

Sikar stopped laughing and returned to his usual impassive expression, as if regaining his composure.

“There’s no reason for me not to be.”

“The Duke seems very pleased. Isn’t that right, Your Grace?”

Kian Blake was looking at Sikar with eyes full of hopeful expectation.

“Perhaps that’s how it seemed.”

Judging by how Sikar answered while subtly glaring at Kian, he must have genuinely been happy.

It looked as if he laughed boisterously out of sheer joy, then suddenly put on a stern face out of embarrassment.

Well, of course he’d be happy. He probably never expected to receive carnations from Kian.

Perhaps because Sikar laughed so heartily, my own mood brightened considerably. Kian, seemingly satisfied with that reaction, offered a faint smile.

“Thank you for liking it.”

Then Sikar gritted his teeth slightly as he looked at Kian.

“You’ve really grown up a lot, Kian.”

That was probably his own awkward way of showing affection… Still, I couldn’t just let that kind of expression slide.

I quietly approached Sikar and whispered to him, just as I had before.

“Wouldn’t it be nicer if your tone were a bit gentler?”

Sikar glared fiercely at me. But I wasn’t the same me who used to tremble in fear whenever he glared.

That kind of glare didn’t work on me anymore.

I stared right back at him, widening my eyes as if urging him to speak gently—quickly.

“If you’re going to say something, instead of ‘You’ve grown so much,’ try ‘You’ve grown up so well.’ And maybe pat his head a bit, like you’re proud of him.”

After a brief staring contest with me, Sikar sighed as if conceding defeat.

“Fine.”

Sikar smirked slightly, then patted Kian’s head as he spoke.

“You’ve grown up so very well, Kian.”

Though it was obvious to anyone that this was more of a reluctant, forced gesture than genuine warmth, Kian beamed happily.

“I have grown a bit, haven’t I?”

However, despite his bright smile, there was something faintly menacing in Kian’s tone.

Why did it feel like they were locked in some kind of psychological battle? No, it must be my imagination. Didn’t they agree to get along? It’s probably just awkwardness.

Yet Sikar didn’t stop stroking Kian’s head.

“That’s right. You really have grown. Even your height has shot up.”

“I want to grow as tall as you, Your Grace, so please stop patting my head. They say if you keep touching your head, it’ll get worse.”

“According to your mother, this is an expression of affection.”

So it really was a psychological battle, then?

“You two. Are you really getting along right now?”

The moment I finished speaking, Kian immediately wrapped his arms around Sikar’s waist, and Sikar, in turn, placed a hand on Kian’s shoulder.

“It’s just because we haven’t seen each other in so long, Mother. We felt awkward.”

Was it my imagination? It seemed like Sikar flinched slightly after Kian finished speaking.

“Yes. It must be because it’s been far too long—we’re still a bit awkward.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“Absolutely!”

Judging by their bright expressions, it really did seem that way. It made sense they’d feel awkward—Sikar had left for military duty shortly after they agreed to get along.

Just from the fact that Sikar bought a whole bunch of rosemary “for the sake of domestic peace,” our future seemed promising.

Sikar seemed to be watching something, then stopped smiling awkwardly and removed his hand from Kian’s shoulder.

Following Sikar’s gaze, I saw Vika Lamberst walking toward us.

She approached under our collective gaze and said,

“Marquis Reidox has arrived. And those two little junior marquises are with him.”

Those “little junior marquises” referred to Reidox’s twins.

As we were about to enter the mansion, Reidox and the twins came walking toward us first.

When Reidox and the twins drew near, they stared at Sikar with utterly dumbfounded expressions.

For a moment, I wondered why they were looking like that—then I realized why and had to suppress a laugh.

Sikar, wearing a rabbit headband and maintaining a stern expression, must have startled them.

Since we had naturally removed our own rabbit headbands, Sikar must have completely forgotten he was still wearing his.

Reidox suppressed a smile, exchanged a glance with me, then bowed toward Sikar.

“It’s been a long time, Your Grace.”

“Indeed, it has.”

Soon after, the twins followed Reidox’s lead and bowed as well.

“It’s been a long time, Your Grace.”

“You’ve grown quite a bit. Do you still fight often?”

Since the twins looked uncertain how to answer and kept glancing at Reidox, I asked Vika Lamberst to take them—with Kian—to the training room.

Watching Vika lead the children away, Sikar remarked,

“I hear the twins have been visiting the training room regularly over the past three years. Learning swordsmanship there, I suppose.”

“They’ve grown enough now not to fear even Death Knights.”

Reidox smiled while looking at Sikar, but when their eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze. Sikar, however, didn’t let Reidox’s smile go unchallenged.

“We’re hardly the type to be delighted just because we haven’t seen each other in a while. You’re awfully bold to laugh at me.”

“Your Grace’s expression seems even warmer and more pleasant now—it made me smile involuntarily.”

“Making another insolent remark, I see.”

Sikar spoke harshly, but he didn’t seem genuinely upset.

Reidox’s laughter was surely all because of that headband.

I considered whether or not to mention the headband to him—but deliberately chose not to. If Sikar appeared wearing that rabbit headband, even the mansion’s servants might realize just how human he truly was.

Just as expected, as soon as we entered the mansion, all the servants gaped at Sikar.

But since servants had gaped at Sikar many times before, it wasn’t particularly surprising anymore.

Thus, Sikar paid little attention to their expressions.

Except for Andrea’s astonished look—he wouldn’t let that slide.

“Andrea. Why are you staring at me like that?”

Andrea smiled at Sikar—a calm, satisfied smile.

“Your Grace appears much brighter and more pleasant now.”

Sikar must have found Andrea’s words pleasing, because he slightly lifted the corner of his mouth as he replied to her.

“Everyone’s been saying that. Andrea. Bring us some tea.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

As we watched Andrea leave, we took our seats.

Sikar stared fixedly at Reidox’s face and said,

“I can still smell the perfume you gave my wife. I told you not to give her even a drop of water. Why did you give her perfume again?”

It had merely been a customary gift exchanged on an anniversary—meaningless, really.

If I spoke up on Reidox’s behalf, it might sound like I was defending him, which would only further irritate Sikar.

So I trusted Reidox to explain well and said nothing myself.

“That was a customary gift I presented to the Duchess on the children’s birthdays or special occasions. I noticed she was using the perfume I gave her previously, so I simply gave her another. I hope you won’t misunderstand.”

“You think I asked this because I’m jealous or suspicious of your relationship? I simply find it insolent that you give anything at all to my wife. Do you understand me now?”

Reidox immediately nodded in agreement.

“I was thoughtless.”

Trusting Reidox had clearly been the right decision—Sikar coughed lightly, as if his irritation had slightly eased.

Just then, Andrea entered, placed tea before us, and left.

“Let’s have some tea for now.”

Reidox bowed his head slightly, offering proper etiquette to Sikar.

Sikar glanced once at me—as if prompting me to drink too—then lifted his own teacup.

At that moment, Sikar stared rigidly at the teacup.

Soon his hands seemed to tremble slightly—then he set the cup down, frozen like ice.

“I… I had no… no idea I’ve been wearing this… this rabbit headband all this time.”

Hmm. It seemed this was perhaps the first time I’d ever seen Sikar stammer like this.

If I had to pick the funniest moment I’d ever witnessed from him, I’d probably choose this one without hesitation.

Sikar removed the headband with trembling hands, as if such a thing could never possibly have happened.

At this very moment, images of the twins’ stunned faces, the servants’ expressions, and Andrea’s look were likely flashing through his mind like a reel.

He must have felt deeply embarrassed.

“The rabbit headband suits you quite well, Your Grace.”

Reidox was smiling faintly, but that smile felt like he was finally unleashing something he’d been holding back for ages—I found it hilarious.

But Reidox soon regretted attempting such a timid revenge. Sikar, who had worn an expression of despair, now lifted his head with a sneer.

“Oh? Then why don’t you try wearing it too? I think it’ll suit you quite nicely.”

Reidox stiffened as if struck by lightning from a clear sky. Sikar tossed the rabbit headband toward him and said,

“Go on.”

Reidox stared blankly at the headband for a moment, then murmured,

“I must decline.”

“You tease me by saying it suits me, then decline to wear it yourself? Does that mean you think I looked ridiculous?”

Since the psychological battle unfolding over a single rabbit headband was quite entertaining, I watched with great interest to see how this “headband incident” would end.

Reidox stared silently at the headband lying before him, then said,

“I don’t think it would suit me. Even the person who made it probably wouldn’t want me to wear it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that—put it on. If you don’t wear it, I’ll have no choice but to think you’re mocking me. And you’ll pay the price for mocking me.”

“You don’t mean to say, Your Grace, that you’d dismantle the spirit trap currently supporting Yukandar just because I refuse to wear this headband?”

“You understand well.”

Reidox had earned Gillian’s hatred for refusing to support the new king.

Thus, Lape, the royal court spirit mage, unleashed the Destruction Spirits upon Yukandar.

True, in the original story, Reidox never asked Sikar for help, and Sikar never offered any—but this time, since Kian had been entrusted to Reidox, Sikar had installed the spirit trap in exchange for a set amount of minerals.

The Destruction Spirits possessed power to annihilate not only people but everything—without the trap, removing them would require massive manpower, and inevitably, many casualties.

Now Sikar was threatening to dismantle that trap.

Reidox knew Sikar never made idle threats—and that he would indeed enforce the trap’s removal over something as trivial as refusing to wear a headband.

Since Reidox cherished his subjects above all else, he picked up the headband as if paying the price for provoking a lion in the midst of humiliation.

Reidox wearing the rabbit headband actually looked quite good.

Only then did Sikar cross his arms and smile, seemingly satisfied.

“You suit it quite well too.”

Reidox, perhaps unable to bring himself to say “thank you,” simply lowered his gaze.

“You’ve been visiting here often while I was away. What if my wife became the subject of gossip? Why were you lurking around the ducal mansion?”

“An unfounded worry, Your Grace. No one would dare speak ill of Lady Blake.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

Reidox calmly smiled and replied,

“Who would dare deceive Your Grace?”

“That remark feels loaded.”

Suddenly, Sikar stood and extended his hand toward Reidox.

“Come to think of it, I can’t recall the last time we shook hands. Shall we shake hands?”

But Reidox’s reaction was slightly odd. Normally, he would have grasped Sikar’s hand without hesitation—yet for some reason, he didn’t take it.