Goodness!

Looking out the window, a truly blue sun had risen. It was such an astonishing sight.

The entire world dyed in blue hues was incredibly wondrous. With everything bathed in blue, it felt as if the whole world floated within a shallow, dreamlike azure sea.

Mesmerized by such breathtaking beauty, I stared blankly out the window.

Just imagining Kian Blake also gazing at this scene, heart pounding, made my own chest flutter.

“Goodness! Just like in the original story, the blue sun really rose! Now all the people will look up to the king with reverence! No one will dare dismiss him as a child king anymore! No one will question Kian’s legitimacy!”

My heart pounded so fiercely I felt like I might leap straight into the air. Sikar Blake grinned brightly and excitedly clasped my hands.

“That’s right. And now, we can also have a child.”

Huh…?

It seemed this was truly the thing Sikar had most wanted to say to me.

Since when did he become so good at saying such embarrassing things?

Flustered, I turned my gaze away. Sikar, his face flushed with cheerful excitement, continued speaking.

“Fortunately, the blue sun rose the very day after we entered the palace—giving us solid justification. It’s perfect timing to silence those ministers who’ve been arguing over our heir issue.”

Still, I doubted ministers would back down so easily—but the power of the blue sun was indeed extraordinary.

The ministers could no longer debate our heir issue.

Since the blue sun rose right after our arrival, we too became symbols of good fortune.

Sikar used this justification to rationalize our heir issue, and no one dared oppose him.

After all, the blue sun hadn’t appeared since the first great king—it was legendary. (Though, truthfully, it was all thanks to the protagonist’s blessing.)

Sikar had cleanly settled the matter during the morning court assembly and canceled all royal schedules for the day.

While the blue sun shone, the world buzzed with festival spirit—and we were just as exhilarated.

By afternoon, the world looked unchanged, yet the sun still hanging in the sky remained distinctly blue.

A blue sun shining above—what an incredible sight.

Outside, citizens were fully immersed in celebration. According to Vika Lamberst, costumed citizens filled the streets, joyfully celebrating and praising the king.

Just as in the original story.

And we changed our clothes too.

In the original, Kian wore a dragon mask, so I naturally expected him to appear in one—but instead, he came out adorned as a rose.

It was as if Red Hat had pinned a rose atop his head.

Perhaps because he’s still only ten—Kian in his rose outfit looked unbearably adorable.

“Your Majesty… You’ve become a rose?”

Kian beamed, propping his chin with both hands.

“I wanted to give you my whole heart, Mother.”

Could there possibly be a cuter king in the world?

If Kian weren’t royalty, I’d smother his cheeks with kisses right now—but I had to bite my lip and restrain myself.

Yet, as if sensing my thoughts, Kian grabbed my hand and planted kisses all over my knuckles.

“You’re so beautiful too, Mother.”

Of course, I’d pinned a rose behind my ear just like Kian. Sikar had tried to refuse any decoration, so I combed his bangs aside and pinned a flower there.

Turns out, Sikar looked quite adorable too.

Our outfits matched commoners’: Sikar wore plain cotton trousers and a cotton shirt; I wore a plain cotton dress.

Vika Lamberst wore no costume at all; Durion wore a pirate hat.

We’d wanted to call the twins, but they claimed to be unwell, so we couldn’t summon them.

Reidox, having finished his duties early, went ahead to care for the twins. Jeremi Iker and Roen went out to bless the people.

“Should we have done volunteer work too?”

“Today’s a day to celebrate the kingdom’s blessing—let’s enjoy the festival. What about inviting Hersia?”

“I sent her a letter, but no reply yet.”

“Really? That’s truly unfortunate.”

The last contact I’d had with Hersia was after sending her a milk tea recipe—she’d replied with a simple thank you.

Normally, Hersia from the Marquis household would promptly reply to every letter I sent—but today, still no response.

I looked at Kian regretfully.

“What should we do? We’re going out for once, but have no one to play with.”

“I’m thrilled just going out with you, Mother. And Mother…?”

“Yes?”

“Since we’re hiding our identities outside… could you call me by name again, just for today?”

“Ah, but…”

“Please? Call me by name and speak casually, like before. Honestly… I still haven’t gotten used to how formally you address me lately.”

“It’s just protocol—I can’t help it…”

Though protocol here forbade such informality, Kian gazed at me with such earnest, pleading eyes that my resolve softened.

Fine. No one’s watching—breaking protocol for just one day won’t hurt. Shall I play ‘mom’ like the old days, just for today?

I smiled gently and nodded. Kian immediately nuzzled his face against my arm.

“Thank you, Mother!”

Sikar, who’d been watching us intently, extended his own arm toward Kian.

But Kian didn’t nuzzle Sikar’s arm. Sikar pouted, crossed his arms like a sulking child, and stared at us.

Kian chuckled at Sikar’s expression, then held out his palm.

“Guys do it like this!”

Sikar gave Kian an incredulous look, slapped palms with him, then glanced at me.

His eyes seemed to say, ‘You saw that, right?’

To me, though, it just looked heartwarming.

Perhaps because Kian missed his biological father Valije, he treated Sikar like a real father now.

Vika Lamberst, standing nearby with a tired expression, urged us.

“So—are we going to the square or not?”

“Of course we are.”

“Wait!”

Kian plucked a rose and pinned it behind Vika’s ear.

“It’s a festival—you should dress up a little.”

Normally, Vika would’ve ripped off and tossed the flower instantly if he disliked it—but since he didn’t, he just grumbled while leaving it pinned.

“Ugh, annoying.”

“Let’s go now, Vika.”

Kian laughed and strode ahead. Vika and Durion hurried after him, calling out:

“I’ll drive the carriage today!”

Before boarding, Sikar gently caught my wrist.

“The square will be very crowded. If it becomes unbearable, tell me—I brought medicine.”

I’d already steeled myself when deciding to go, so I gave Sikar a confident smile.

“I’ll… give it a try. I’ll be fine—with Kian beside me.”

I told Sikar it was fine because of Kian—but truthfully, looking back, I think it was Sikar beside me that made it okay.

Knowing I had someone to rely on and trust gave me strength far greater than any pill.

Sikar pulled me into a comforting embrace and kissed my forehead.

“Don’t forget—I’m right beside you too.”

Grateful for his words, I dug up the phrase I hadn’t used in ages—the one that used to make his ears turn red.

“Kumama.”

Apparently, that phrase had lost its effect—Sikar didn’t blush this time. He simply accepted it as natural.

“Your soul is already mine.”

Guess I shouldn’t revive outdated catchphrases—shouldn’t have said it.

The square was packed as if every citizen of Recador had poured into the streets.

Despite the festival’s suddenness, people celebrated the blue sun’s rising with dancing, music, magic tricks, and acrobatics everywhere.

Many street vendors sold food or set up fun games.

The moment Kian spotted cotton candy, he dashed forward and stood mesmerized with Durion, watching it being made—while Vika stood beside them impatiently urging the vendor to hurry.

Sikar ignored everything around him, eyes fixed solely on me.

“How are you? Feeling okay?”

“I feel a bit nauseous, but otherwise not bad.”

“You’ve really improved.”

“Yeah. I feel like my curse is finally lifting.”

“Curse?”

Sikar stared at me as if asking what I meant. I just chuckled and walked over to Kian.

“Two more cotton candies!”

“Oh my! Thank you!”

The vendor happily spun more cotton candy.

Kian and Durion gaped like children, repeatedly exclaiming “Wow!” as they watched, utterly entranced.

Soon, we all strolled the streets, each holding a cotton candy stick. Sikar held his with one hand while covering his face with the other, looking mortified.

“Not enough to walk around with flowers in my hair—now I’m holding cotton candy too? Humiliating.”

Vika watched Sikar with a secretly satisfied smirk.

“It suits you. Why not do this often? Though with flowers in your hair, you do look like a lunatic…”

Vika stopped teasing when Sikar glared—but couldn’t suppress his snickering.

Looks like Vika and Sikar won’t get along until Sikar lifts that oath.

Eating cotton candy made me quietly thirsty.

“We’re thirsty—should we buy street drinks?”

I scanned around for beverage stalls, but Sikar sternly shook his head.

“Cotton candy is fine, but I can’t let the king casually eat street drinks.”

Sikar paused, then fixed Kian with a meaningful look.

“From now on, don’t touch anything unless it’s been inspected by the palace. Understood?”

Kian didn’t reply—just pouted. Sikar offered a fist bump as if expecting an answer. Kian weakly bumped fists with him and nodded.

No wonder he’s deflated—living under so many restrictions.

Still, watching Sikar and Kian fist-bumping like rappers made me oddly envious.

They clearly connected through this—it looked sweet. Affectionate, even.

“Kian—can you do that with me too?”

“Huh? Do what?”

“Can you fist-bump me like you did with the Duke?”

Kian paused thoughtfully, then smiled brightly.

“Okay, Mother. Hold out your fist.”

Why am I suddenly fluttering?

I offered my fist with a shy smile. Kian grabbed it—and kissed my knuckles.