Sikar Blake, unusually pale, had not a trace of color in his lips—he lay quietly as if dead.

I approached and sat beside his sleeping form, then asked Jeremi, who stood nearby.

“Where and how badly was he injured to be unconscious like this?”

“He lost quite a lot of blood over two days. Princess Veronia said he won’t be able to emerge from his coma for a while… And since none of us can heal him, it might take even longer. But please don’t worry too much. It will take time, but he will wake up.”

I wanted to demand he wake up immediately and ask why he deceived me, but to him, lying there as if dead, I couldn’t say a word.

“I’ll take the Duke to the palace now.”

At my request, Jeremi replied with an embarrassed expression.

“Right now, His Grace is being pursued by the Grand Temple. It’s best to keep him here until he regains consciousness.”

Even so, I doubted they would search all the way into the palace,

His calmly resting hand was endlessly cold, and no warmth could be felt in his body.

Truly like a dead man.

At that moment, I realized it wasn’t just his body that was cold—the bed beneath him was freezing too.

Lifting the topper, I found the hard stone bed bitterly cold.

“How can you let an injured person sleep on something this cold?”

Jeremi and Vika Lamberst stared at me in surprise, then scratched their noses.

“What?”

“The stone bed is freezing. Cold air rises from below—that’s why Sikar’s face is so pale. The body recovers faster when it’s warm.”

The two looked at me as if considering this, then Vika said, uncertainly,

“We’ve never been injured that badly. We don’t fight recklessly until we end up like that—we just drink healing potions and recover.”

“Quickly, light a fire in the hearth. If his body warms up a bit, he’ll recover faster.”

Durion, who had been watching silently, was the first to rush outside, declaring he’d fetch firewood.

As the fire burned and the room gradually warmed, warmth began to return to Sikar’s body. Only then, as his body grew warmer, did I feel slightly relieved.

Since Sikar was in a coma and couldn’t eat, we had to drip healing potion into his mouth.

Wanting him to recover faster, I massaged his arms and legs day and night, hoping better blood circulation might help him awaken sooner.

Watching me with touched eyes, Durion began following my lead, massaging Sikar’s legs.

“I’ll help too.”

Durion wasn’t the only one aiding Sikar’s recovery.

Jeremi stood between us and Pasium, who couldn’t communicate with us, acting as an intermediary to procure what we needed.

Vika himself, simply by remaining healthy, served as a gauge to assess Sikar’s condition.

After days of effort to aid Sikar’s recovery, one day he suddenly began to open his eyes.

Though his body hadn’t fully recovered yet, Sikar’s eyes faintly opened. He blinked, confirmed my face, then closed his eyes again.

Then, the next morning—while I sat beside Sikar trying to sleep—I opened my eyes to the sensation of fingers brushing my hair.

Though weak from lack of strength, his hand strained with all its might to touch me.

“Sikar? Are you awake? You’re awake?”

His faint gaze seemed to ask me what had happened.

“Princess Veronia told me everything. Why did you do it?”

His single blink seemed to apologize, saying he was sorry. Even then, Sikar tightly gripped my hand.

Perhaps it would be better for him to simply see my memories rather than hear my scattered explanations.

If only I could see his memories too—then I’d know how much he suffered, and I could comfort him without him needing to say a word.

Wiping my flowing tears, I clasped Sikar’s hand, which held mine.

“Why are you lying like this? I have so much to say to you. So… hurry… hurry… wake up.”

Sikar, as if telling me not to cry, used his trembling hand to wipe away my tears.

Then he sank back into sleep. After sleeping for a long while again, he fully awoke the next day.

Sikar’s hand holding mine was stronger and firmer than yesterday. Again, after blinking several times, he fully opened his eyes and pulled me into an embrace.

“Yura… I thought it was a dream… It’s really you. My wife… I missed you…”

Seeing his face, now fully conscious, my nose stung and tears welled up.

“Why did you deceive me? Why did you stage that false performance for me?”

Sikar gently caressed my cheek and weakly gathered his strength.

“Because I wanted to stay with you a little longer…”

“What if you died? If you die, everything ends.”

Sikar wiped the tears streaming down my cheek and faintly smiled.

“If you disappear, human Sikar is finished.”

“Disappearing means you might return someday. But death? That’s the end. The end.”

Tears gathered and fell from Sikar’s eyes as he held me tightly and brushed my hair.

“I already love you too much to let you go…”

It was the same for me.

“I can’t let you go either…”

“You know I’ve always listened to you. Just this once, please listen to me…”

“How can I listen to that when you’re talking about dying?!”

“Listen. So from now on, don’t try to lift my curse. Even if I die, Valije is there, so you don’t need to worry about Kian. I just want to spend the time granted to me with you. Or… find a way by your side… Promise me. Promise you won’t force me to break the curse…”

Sikar stared fixedly into my eyes, waiting for my answer.

And then, for the first time, I became truly certain.

If Sikar dies, I cannot live.

“Do you really want me to promise that?”

“Yes… Anyway, I’m now a fugitive pursued by the Grand Temple. Even if I survive as I wish, I’ve committed a grave crime—I may be imprisoned by the Grand Temple, or even sealed away.”

“Then just run away and live! Get healed by Kian, run away if you must, but survive first. You can’t do anything unless you’re alive!”

“If the King’s adoptive father commits a serious crime and lives as a fugitive, it won’t help the King. You don’t want Kian to become a king pointed at because of me, do you?”

Ah… Kian…

“I’ll take that look as agreement.”

Sikar sighed deeply and brushed my cheek again.

“All I want is that. We have so many things we haven’t done, so many things I want to try. I… rather than live a long life without meaning… I want to die happily by your side…”

I gave no answer—not because I agreed with him, but because I was searching for another way to escape the Grand Temple’s pursuit.

I couldn’t let Sikar leave like this.

Outwardly, I said nothing—but quietly, I resolved: I will never let him go like this.

Veronia and Valije were still residing in the vacant Daisy Palace, having not yet returned to the snowy mountains. This was because, before Yura left the palace, she had wished for them to stay longer at Recador Palace.

Valije couldn’t refuse the request of the wife of the man who saved him, nor the request of Yura, Kian’s adoptive mother.

So, though he felt it was shameless, he decided to stay at Daisy Palace.

Daisy Palace was originally the palace Veronia had used, which she had yielded. But returning after so long, the place felt like another world.

Valije gazed at the garden overflowing with roses, filled with both wonder and admiration.

“Where did all those daisies go? Now it’s full of roses.”

“Kian planted them for Duchess Blake.”

“Really? Kian?”

Valije smiled faintly at the unexpected remark.

“Our cute little Kian saying he must protect his adoptive mother was already surprising—but planting roses for her too? Admirable and astonishing…”

“He loved his mother very much. Probably because you raised him so devotedly.”

Valije scratched his nose, looking slightly resentful.

“I raised him quite devotedly too…”

Seeing Valije’s gloomy expression, Veronia felt a bit pained but wanted to comfort him.

“He must have felt especially attached because you took him in when he thought he was completely orphaned.”

“True, that makes sense. So that’s why he grew into such a romantic boy. I want to meet Duke Blake soon.”

Valije wanted Sikar to return safely so he could personally thank him.

He wished to fulfill his duty of having raised Kian well, even if only in that way.

Kian’s next task, after successfully resolving matters at the Grand Temple, was to find his adoptive father.

“Master. Please tell me where my father is.”

Long ago, Sikar had already implored Reidox never to reveal his location, even if ordered by the King.

But now, as Chancellor, the King—who knew all the facts—was openly searching for his adoptive father. Reidox could no longer pretend ignorance.

Unable to decide what to do, Reidox found Kian pressing him relentlessly.

“This is a request from your disciple. Surely, Master, you don’t intend to remain silent until I, as King, issue a formal command?”

Reidox could no longer avoid Kian, who stared at him intently.

He concluded that even if the Duke saw his memories, he couldn’t be blamed for betraying loyalty, having endured this much.

So Reidox spoke as if resigned to everything.

“He will be at Pasium’s hiding place.”

“Pasium, you say…”

“He has now lost his powers and memories, and lives tilling fields at his former hiding place.”

“I see. Then please guide me there.”

“Your Majesty… must you really go there?”

“Yes… I must. So please guide me quickly.”

Reidox sighed, lowered his head, stared at the floor, and muttered,

“You see, Your Grace? I have no more options. I cannot disobey the King’s command.”

Surely the Duke would understand there was nothing else he could have done, if he saw his memories now.

Reidox lifted his head again, looked firmly at Kian, and said,

“I will guide you.”