Now that Sikar is gone and no longer here.

Could Valije now be appearing in Kian’s eyes, who misses him so?

It pained my heart to think that might be the case. Those two, who had once been like bitter enemies, had only just begun to feel at ease with each other—yet now faced such a sudden, cruel separation. For Kian, this sorrow must have been unbearable.

“Your Majesty….”

I held Kian tightly, struggling to hold back my tears.

“You must miss your father terribly. Let’s go to Snow Mountain soon—we’ll visit your stepfather and see the Duke as well. Let’s do that.”

At that, Kian gently pushed me away and stepped back.

“C, could that be it? Am I seeing things because I miss my dad and father so much?”

Tears threatened to spill over at the sight of Kian, believing a phantom to be his real father. I turned my head aside, pretending to believe him.

“Really? Where? Let me see.”

“Over there. Do you see the man beside Her Highness?”

Just as Kian said, a man was walking toward us alongside Veronia.

Though his brown hair looked vaguely familiar, I couldn’t immediately recall where I’d seen him.

But as I stared at him for a while, I began to sense he resembled someone.

Valije Tahigon.

I’d never seen him alive, but surely he bore a striking resemblance to Valije Tahigon, who had lain sleeping in Snow Mountain.

Still, it made no sense for a dead man to walk toward us perfectly intact—I couldn’t fully believe he was truly Valije Tahigon.

So I thought perhaps he was merely someone similar—but then again, maybe he really was Valije, or perhaps Kian and I were both seeing illusions together.

Because as the man drew closer, his eyes glistened with moisture.

That glistening gaze wasn’t directed at me. It was fixed on Kian—with deep, tender longing.

“Kian!”

When he called Kian’s name, Kian burst into a wide smile and ran toward him.

“Dad?!”

Kian ran toward Valije, tears streaming down his face, looking for all the world like a ten-year-old child.

What on earth was happening? So bewildered was I that I briefly considered Valije might truly have returned from the dead—then shook my head firmly.

‘A dead man coming back to life? That’s impossible!’

Of course, this was a place where high priests could resurrect people—but whether someone long dead like Valije could be revived was highly doubtful.

If it were possible, they would have done it in the original story.

Valije truly alive? I couldn’t believe it—but he stood right before my eyes, undeniably living.

I felt indescribable joy and emotion. Though Sikar was gone, Valije had returned to Kian—so he would no longer live in agonizing longing for his father.

Kian and Valije embraced each other, tears falling in torrents.

“A, Dad? Are you really my dad?”

Valije gently stroked Kian’s cheek, who still looked at him with disbelief.

“Our Kian. You’ve grown so much. At least a full handspan taller, I’d say?”

“A, Dad. This isn’t an illusion, right? You’re really my dad?”

“Yes. It’s me…. I’m truly your father. Our Kian—you’ve grown up so well even without me….”

Valije’s voice trailed off, choked with emotion.

“Dad. What happened? Do you have to leave again? I don’t understand anything.”

Valije wiped the tears welling in his own eyes, then gently wiped those from Kian’s cheeks.

“Dad won’t leave anymore. I’ll stay by our Kian’s side from now on.”

“Really? You’ll truly stay beside me forever? Live with me for the rest of my life?”

“Yes. We’ll live together now. Just like before… no, now that you have your mother too, the three of us can live together.”

“Three of us?”

“Yes. Our little family of three.”

Kian, now somewhat calmer, wiped his tears and spoke while holding back sobs.

“Dad. I have a mother I must protect for the rest of my life.”

Valije nodded, as if he understood.

“I heard from your mother on the way here. There’s someone who raised you, isn’t there?”

Wiping his tears, Kian took Valije’s hand and led him toward me.

“Say hello. This is my mother.”

I felt deeply grateful and moved—Kian, even upon seeing Valije risen from the dead, still remembered and cared for me.

Valije bowed respectfully to me.

“I’ve heard you adopted our Kian and raised him well. Thank you.”

Knowing my motives for raising Kian weren’t purely selfless, I felt unworthy of such praise from Valije.

“No. We didn’t raise Kian solely for his sake.”

Valije showed no suspicion at my words. He simply nodded, as if he already knew.

“Regardless, thanks to Duchess Blake taking in our Kian, I am able to breathe again on this earth. In many ways, you are our benefactor.”

At that moment, I couldn’t fully grasp what Valije meant.

Thanks to us, he could breathe again? It made no sense.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you were resurrected because of us?”

Valije didn’t seem to be joking with me, someone he’d never met before.

No—this wasn’t a moment for jokes, and he wasn’t the type to make idle jests.

Instead of answering me, Valije looked toward Veronia. She gave me a wry smile.

“You must be surprised.”

“Yes. I suppose so….”

“You must want to know how this was possible. You can’t believe this situation either, can you?”

“Yes, Your Highness. You say Lord Consort’s resurrection is connected to us—I simply can’t comprehend it….”

“Have you heard of the Ancient Resurrection Tome?”

“Yes. I’ve heard of it.”

“Thanks to that, Valije lives. Because you placed him in Snow Mountain, his body was preserved well enough to allow his revival.”

So that’s why he said it was thanks to us.

“Truly… truly… congratulations. Even the heavens must have been moved by Your Highness’s deep devotion to allow such a miracle. Truly, congratulations.”

Veronia stared at me with a hardened expression.

“No. This is not a miracle.”

“What?”

“It’s thanks to someone’s hard work.”

As Veronia spoke, sighs kept escaping her breath.

“Oh. Yes, I see.”

“It was thanks to Duke Blake’s efforts.”

Sikar? What had Sikar done before he died?

“What help did His Grace provide?”

Veronia’s eyes flashed as she looked straight into mine.

“The Duke is alive.”

“What?!”

“I came here urgently today not only to show Kian his father, but also to explain the situation to you.”

“The situation…? Your Highness?”

“Listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you.”

“The R, Resurrection Tome has al, already been l, lost… ah-choo!”

The High Priest frowned as he watched the priests sniffling around him.

Last night, the priests hadn’t anticipated Snow Mountain’s cold and ended up descending—but many suffered frostbite or severe colds, forcing them to return to the Grand Temple.

Thus, only those priests whose health remained relatively sound—including Roen—stayed behind to report the situation to the High Priest.

“If you couldn’t recover the Tome, you should have brought back the Duke at least!”

“B, Blake Duke escaped Snow M, Mountain… ah-choo! We c, couldn’t st, stop him… ah-choo!”

The priest speaking ducked his head, embarrassed, as he wiped the snot that had burst forth.

The High Priest clicked his tongue in disgust as he scanned the priests.

“Did you really believe Repher would protect you from the cold if you simply went to Snow Mountain?”

“N, no. We underestimated Snow Mountain’s chill…”

The priest who spoke trailed off, glaring at poor Roen. Since Roen knew better than anyone else about Snow Mountain’s cold—and had said nothing—they all blamed her.

As all the priests glared at Roen, the High Priest followed their gaze and looked at her.

“Roen. You knew, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“About Snow Mountain’s cold.”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you warn your colleagues in advance?”

“I thought we’d find the Tome first. Though, admittedly, things didn’t go as planned.”

“You didn’t cooperate with the plan, then?”

Roen looked squarely at the High Priest, confidently, as if to say that was unthinkable.

“Princess Veronia was residing in Snow Mountain. You’ve always said, High Priest, that we share fate with the Lecador royal family. We couldn’t possibly commit rudeness at Her Highness’s residence.”

“Why didn’t you seek Her Highness’s permission?”

A priest listening nearby seized the moment and stepped forward.

“Her Highness protected Duke Blake. Doesn’t that mean she no longer wishes to share fate with our Temple?”

The High Priest didn’t agree with that.

“If you lost the Tome, you must at least capture the Duke. Go now—track him down and bring him back. Hire Finders if you must.”

“Yes, High Priest.”

“And Roen. You’re to withdraw from this matter.”

Roen didn’t protest. She already knew she’d lost her standing in this affair.

After the priests had all left, the High Priest turned to Roen, who remained.

“Roen. Why are you still standing here instead of leaving?”

“What do you intend to do with Duke Blake?”

The High Priest himself didn’t relish the idea of arresting Duke Blake. Considering all the Duke had done for the Temple, he’d intended to let the matter drop if only the Tome were returned.

“But now that the Tome is lost, Duke Blake cannot escape severe punishment.”

“I believe you should take into account all Duke Blake has done for the Grand Temple. Shouldn’t you do that?”

“But his crime is grave.”

“So… surely not….”

Roen felt a foreboding dread. If they spoke of imposing severe punishment for such a grave crime, there was only one penalty it could mean.

She held her breath, praying it wasn’t what she feared, and waited for the High Priest’s words.

“Please tell me what you intend to do with His Grace.”

“I intend to seal him.”