Under the blue sky, sunlight shimmered brightly down upon the grassy field.

“Daddy!!!”

Sikar, tending roses in the Blake family garden, turned his head at the sound of his young daughter calling.

“Romi! Awake already? My little girl?!”

Sikar started to spread his arms to embrace his daughter running toward him—but hesitated.

Today, he simply couldn’t hold her.

When Sikar subtly sidestepped Romi charging toward him, she stopped abruptly and whipped her head around.

“Daddy, pick me up!”

“Not today.”

But Romi, unwilling to accept it so easily, placed her hands behind her back and tilted her head quizzically.

“Why not?”

“I have something important to do today.”

“Okay. I won’t read your memories, Daddy. Just pick me up.”

Romi resumed her sweet act, beaming and raising both arms—but Sikar took a step back.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well then, Daddy can just read my memories too!”

Sikar touched his forehead wearily. There was nothing worthwhile left in those memories anyway.

“Romi. Even if I read your memories—it’s just eating, running, sleeping, occasionally picking your nose and eating it… huff… where would I even use memories like that?”

No matter how rationally Sikar spoke, Romi was simply not at an age to think rationally.

At barely six years old, her thoughts had their limits.

“I really won’t say anything, Daddy. Aaah.”

It was always like this. When sweet-talking failed, she’d start twisting her body and wheedling.

If that didn’t work, she’d roll on the floor and cry.

Sikar, utterly powerless against his young daughter, usually gave in before Romi even began rolling and begging.

‘How on earth did she inherit such a troublesome ability?’

It was exhausting.

Sikar extended his pinky finger and spoke as if demanding a solemn vow.

“Then you absolutely won’t tell Mom, right?”

“Okay. Promise.”

But young daughters rarely kept their promises.

True to form, the moment Romi hooked her pinky, she dashed off toward the manor as if she’d spotted something.

“Waaah! Mom! Princess Veronia is coming!!!”

Sikar stood rooted in place, hand on his waist, with a defeated expression.

“Hah. How do I keep falling for this, Sikar?”

It was exasperating.

Yet, still worried his daughter might trip while sprinting toward the mansion, he chased after her with quick, anxious steps.

“Romi! You’ll fall again like that! Let Daddy carry you!”

Romi, however, had already lost all interest in Sikar.

She burst into the manor, panting heavily.

Yura, preparing refreshments, frowned upon seeing breathless Romi.

“Romi. You just changed clothes—and now they’re dirty again. How many outfits do you go through in a day?”

While Yura brushed dirt off Romi’s skirt with an exasperated look, Romi’s mouth itched to spill the news she’d just learned.

But panting too hard to speak properly, she could only stammer.

“Mom! Mom! Mo—”

“What is it, Romi? What happened?”

“The prin— you talked about…”

Sikar, arriving belatedly, scooped Romi up swiftly.

“Caught our little girl!”

“Darling, please help Romi change her clothes.”

That was exactly what Sikar wanted.

“Yes, Madam. I’ll change her clothes—you finish what you were doing.”

Only then, after catching her breath, did Romi begin to speak—so Sikar immediately hoisted her up and hurried upstairs to the second floor.

The moment they reached Romi’s room, Sikar sat her on the sofa, closed the door lest anyone overhear, and sank onto the sofa himself, looking drained.

Since Romi’s birth, not a single day had been peaceful.

Every day greeted Sikar with spectacle.

“This is worse than the days when we overthrew the deposed king.”

“Daddy, hurry—give me clothes. I want to change and go to Mom.”

“Uh. Okay. Daddy will help you change.”

But even changing one outfit wasn’t easy.

Whenever he pulled out an item—

“Not that one, Daddy. The Winter Kingdom outfit! That one’s pretty!”

“That outfit is already completely dirtied by you and hasn’t been washed yet.”

“Then give me the Fire Kingdom outfit.”

“Alright. I’ll give you that one.”

He couldn’t help but sigh.

As Sikar pulled out clothes matching Romi’s taste and helped her change, he said,

“Romi. Our daughter is good, isn’t she?!”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

Right. This is it.

“Since our daughter is good, she’ll keep the promise she made with Daddy, right?”

“What promise?”

“The promise to keep Princess Veronia’s visit a secret from Mom.”

“Why can’t I tell her?”

“Because I want to surprise Mom.”

“I also want to surprise Mom!”

“Wouldn’t Mom be even more surprised if she sees the princess in person, rather than hearing about it from you first?”

As if rewarding Sikar’s gentle coaxing, Romi paused thoughtfully—then said,

“Okay. Then call His Highness Brother.”

“The King is busy preparing for his wedding these days. Since the princess is arriving just before the wedding, let’s see her together then. How’s that?”

Romi reluctantly nodded.

“Okay….”

“Now that you’re changed, shall we go eat refreshments with Mom?”

“No. I want to go to the training room.”

“That place is too dangerous for you, Romi.”

“But His Highness Brother used to go there with me when he was little!”

Sikar had to clutch his throbbing forehead again.

“Alright. Let’s go. Go.”

As Romi wished, Sikar and Yura had transformed the training room into a flower garden, sitting with rosemary petals dangling from their ears.

Meanwhile, Romi busily scribbled on the floor.

“The King’s wedding is coming soon—but still no word from the princess?”

At the word “princess,” Romi sprang up like a meerkat. Sikar made a pleading face and clasped his hands together as if begging “Please!”—and Romi nodded understandingly.

Since this wasn’t the first or second time, Yura paid it little mind.

“I believe she’ll arrive before the King’s wedding, Madam.”

“Right?”

“Yep. She’ll come soon, Mom.”

Romi blurted it out unconsciously. Sikar jumped, raising his voice.

“Romi! Please!”

Then, as always when decibels rose, Death Knight appeared.

Seeing Death Knight after so long, Yura’s old memories surfaced vividly.

But quickly, worried little Romi might be frightened, she turned her gaze to Romi.

Yet Romi wasn’t scared at all.

“Wow, Death Knight! I’m seeing you in real life for the first time!”

“Romi. Aren’t you scared?”

“Not scared? I’ll win, Mom.”

“Our Romi has no fear. Good thing she’s brave.”

“Mom. Mom.”

“Yes?”

“When Death Knight appears, we say ‘I love you,’ right?”

It suddenly occurred to Yura that Romi wasn’t afraid because she’d already seen him through memories.

“Right. Our Romi is so clever.”

When Yura kissed Romi’s cheek, Romi kissed Yura’s cheek back.

“Mom, I love you.”

Watching this, Sikar stuck out his cheek like a puppy craving affection.

“And Daddy?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Romi replied,

“I’ll think about Daddy.”

“Why?! Why do I have to be ‘thought about’?!”

“Because Daddy doesn’t say ‘I love you’ much to His Highness Brother.”

Flustered, Sikar was momentarily speechless—but didn’t want to be “marked down” by his daughter.

“Men are just shy with each other. Haven’t you noticed the King doesn’t say it much to me either?”

“I haven’t seen it.”

Sikar felt like blurting out, “What’s even the point of raising kids?” Not a single child listened to him.

Kian was like that because his head was big—but Romi, inheriting his exact same ability, dragged up ancient history and scolded him like this.

“Fine. When I see the King, I’ll definitely say ‘I love you.’”

“Promise.”

“Alright. Promise.”

“Shall I verify it?”

“U-uh. Sure.”

Outwardly calm, Sikar was sweating buckets inside. And Yura couldn’t suppress her laughter.

“Pfft.”

“Why are you laughing, Madam?”

“I just wondered if you’re starting to feel my pain.”

Sikar whispered into Yura’s ear as if questioning her sanity.

“Madam. Honestly, compared to Romi, I’m child’s play.”

“But whispering won’t help—Romi will see everything later anyway.”

“Oh, right.”

The reason Sikar and Yura now meticulously used formal honorifics with each other? All because of Romi.

They used polite forms when Romi was present, but relaxed when she wasn’t—and got caught every single time.

So now, using honorifics with each other had become a fully ingrained habit.

A decision the two made for Romi’s education—even mischievous children would cry over it.

Romi picked up her pen again, moved forward, and resumed scribbling on the floor.

Watching her sprawled on her belly, wiggling her bottom while drawing something earnestly—she looked utterly adorable.

The two smiled happily at her.

“She’s truly a lovely child, isn’t she?”

“She’s exactly like you, Madam.”

Seizing the moment Romi wasn’t looking, Sikar kissed Yura’s lips.

“Darling. Didn’t I say affectionate displays should only happen when it’s pitch dark and nothing’s visible?”

“If I have to wait until then even for a kiss, I’ll fall ill, Madam.”

“Then just once a day—”

Before Yura could finish, Sikar kissed her again.

“I said only once a day!”

“If you raise your voice again, the ground will shake. And which couple kisses only once a day? If you keep this up, I’ll just have to make you kiss me.”

“What, are you going to knock me over again?”

“Of course.”

Sikar gently laid Yura back while seated. Though he supported her neck, he couldn’t steady her body—risking her hair and dress getting ruined on the dirt floor.

“Shall I let go?”

“Only if you beg me to kiss you.”

It had been ages since Sikar pulled such a prank—but for Romi’s education, Yura no longer indulged him.

In short, Yura turned serious.

“If you don’t put me back right now, we’re sleeping in separate rooms tonight. Sikar.”

Thus. Sikar could no longer joke around. He courteously returned Yura to her original position.

“My mistake, Madam.”

“If you understand, go carry Romi on your shoulders.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Obediently, Sikar walked over to Romi.

“Romi! Want a horsey ride?!”

“Yes! Daddy!”

Sikar immediately lifted Romi onto his shoulders. Watching father and daughter, Yura felt like the happiest person in the world.

The happiness a child brings—it’s an overwhelming joy one can never feel again once born into this world.