Silence once again flowed between the two father and son. Now nearly adults, Kian and Sikar Blake sat side by side fishing—their affectionate scene appearing from afar like close friends.

“Any fish biting?”

“None caught.”

Silence again. Then Sikar opened his mouth.

“With just the two of us… really…”

Next, Kian spoke as if in agreement.

“Not fun.”

But even without fun, it felt like a peaceful, relaxing kind of fishing.

“But seriously, why did you suggest fishing?”

“I always wanted to come fishing with Father before getting married, once I grew up.”

“That brings back memories. When we all caught that big fish together.”

“Sometimes thinking about it makes me laugh. It was truly joyful back then.”

“Not bad at all.”

Suddenly, Kian looked at Sikar.

“Father.”

“What now?”

“Thank you for raising me.”

Hearing those words, Sikar suddenly felt tears welling up—though it wasn’t because Romi had made him more emotional lately…

Sikar recalled the first time Kian had ever called him “Father.”

Back then, Kian was merely ten years old—but now, as a grown man, he was expressing gratitude.

Instead, Sikar felt even more thankful toward Kian.

And at that moment, Romi’s words echoed in his mind:

‘Tell His Majesty you love him.’

This was precisely the moment to say those words.

“…Your Majesty.”

“Hmm?”

“L… l…”

“Speak quickly. It’s early spring—cold out here.”

Sikar lowered his head deeply, clasped his hands tightly together, and said,

“I love you.”

Kian stared at Sikar with momentary surprise, then turned his head away bashfully, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re all grown up yet hearing ‘I love you’—what a rare thing.”

“…Actually, Romi told me to say it.”

“Figured as much.”

“Then shall we get up now?”

“Father.”

“You’re calling me a lot today. What is it, boy?”

Kian lowered his head deeply just as Sikar had done moments before, gripped his hands tightly, and said,

“I love you too.”

At that instant, Sikar felt his heart swell warmly, and a single tear dropped.

Quickly wiping it away before being noticed, Sikar said,

“Did Romi tell you to say that too?”

Of course not. He had simply wanted to express his gratitude and love before marriage—but Kian pretended otherwise.

“…Yeah.”

“It’s cold. Let’s go inside quickly.”

“But we didn’t even catch any fish?”

Sikar stood up first and said,

“There aren’t any fish here anyway.”

Kian rose to follow Sikar, looking bewildered.

“Then why did we even come here?!”

“Well, to fish, obviously.”

“But there aren’t any fish?”

“But we caught something more important.”

Kian grinned, watching Sikar walk ahead, and followed after him.

Though Kian hadn’t personally caught it, fish dishes appeared atop the dining table at the Duke’s residence.

Romi blinked at the fish dish, then suddenly noticed the shrimp and exclaimed in alarm,

“There’s shrimp here! Your Majesty can’t eat things like this!”

Kian found Romi so adorable he nearly wanted to tuck her into his pocket.

“Smart little Romi. Since you’re allowed to eat it, I’ll prepare it for you myself.”

“No. Dad’s better at this. Dad, peel the shrimp for me.”

Though Sikar was usually in charge of preparing Romi’s food, he felt oddly slighted this time—she was favoring her brother over him.

Still, Sikar peeled the shrimp meticulously, worrying even a single leg might remain attached, and placed it neatly on her plate.

As usual, Romi scanned around for the invisible Durion and asked,

“Dad. Where’s Durion?”

“Durion’s been busy handling affairs at Black Swan lately. Why are you looking for Durion?”

“Romi always looks for Lord Durion whenever she eats something.”

“I see.”

Kian, listening, nodded.

“I miss Lord Durion too.”

“You’ll all see each other tomorrow, Your Majesty. Lady Roen and Lord Jeremi Iker are focusing solely on recovering to safely attend your wedding.”

“Now that you mention it, I truly miss everyone.”

Sikar, sipping water as if questioning what she meant, said,

“Still, you’re probably most eager to see Lucy, who’ll be your bride tomorrow.”

Romi scowled fiercely at Kian, whose face had flushed with embarrassment.

“No! Your Majesty will always want to see me the most!”

Kian kissed Romi’s cheek as if praising his little rascal.

“That’s right. I want to see my Romi more than anyone else in the world.”

Sikar felt a sudden urge to tease them.

“You used to say Mother was the one you missed most—but your heart’s changed now, hasn’t it, Your Majesty?”

Yura glanced at Sikar as if asking ‘Me?’, then waved her hands dismissively when Sikar nodded, as if calling herself foolish.

Simultaneously, Kian also waved his hands.

“You misunderstand. I always miss Mother too.”

Just as when he was young, Kian remained a dependable son.

Yura smiled gently and took Kian’s hand.

“So do I, Your Majesty. And congratulations on your marriage.”

“Actually, Mother…”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I heard my old room is still kept as it was. Mother, could I sleep there one last time before the wedding? It’s been so long.”

Tears dropped from Yura’s eyes as Kian asked about his childhood room.

Fearing he might someday wonder about it, or that memories might resurface, she had only dusted the room—never rearranged or removed anything. Every object Kian had used as a child remained preserved exactly as it was.

Revisiting childhood memories sounded like admitting those days had been happy.

So while she felt glad she’d preserved Kian’s room so well, she was also deeply moved and grateful that he wanted to revisit those times.

“Of course. Sleep at home tonight.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“I want to sleep with you too, Romi!”

Sikar grabbed Romi as she clung again to Kian.

“No, Romi. You sleep with Dad.”

Romi pouted, her lips jutting out again.

“But I want to sleep with Your Majesty!”

Yura gave Sikar a meaningful glance, urging him to take Romi away—and Sikar quickly understood, scooping Romi up into his arms.

“Oh my, I’m sleepy. Come, let’s go to bed.”

Romi’s whining faded into the distance as she was carried away in Sikar’s arms.

“I probably won’t be able to greet you tomorrow morning—I must enter the palace very early.”

“It’s fine. We’ll see each other at the wedding anyway.”

Kian approached Yura with an awkward expression and embraced her.

He had grown so tall that Yura’s face now buried into his chest.

“Thank you for raising me, Mother. Truly… I love you…”

Yura had tried not to cry—but tears spilled again.

“Sob… thank you for saying that, Your Majesty.”

“Even a lifetime of saying it wouldn’t be enough. Thank you, truly, for raising me.”

That night, Sikar barely managed to fall asleep after calming Romi, who cried wanting to sleep with her brother, and Yura, who cried moved by her son.

Meanwhile, Kian wandered through his long-unvisited room, lost in memories.

He recalled the time he’d been abandoned roadside, nearly growing up like a wild beast—until he received care and love.

He remembered falling asleep every night cradled in Yura’s arms.

Lost in memories of a time that could have been filled with wounds and loneliness—but instead became happy through love and care—he crawled into the same childhood bed and lay down.

Kian was bidding farewell to his younger self—a self he might never revisit after tomorrow’s wedding.

Morning at the Duke’s residence erupted into chaos—there was no time even to note Kian’s pre-dawn departure.

Roen, having recovered her energy, fussed over how adorable Romi was—then Romi, having peeked into Roen’s memories, caused further commotion by exposing Roen’s private habits.

“Mom! Aunt Roen touches Uncle Jeremi’s butt every day!”

Roen looked thunderstruck—as did I, admittedly.

“Roen, Romi says things like that to every adult. Don’t take it too seriously.”

Only then did Roen sigh in relief.

“Ah. I see.”

Sikar, appearing unfazed as if he already knew everything, checked the time.

“We’ll be late—hurry. Durion, prepare the carriage immediately.”

“Yes, Duke.”

“Jeremi and Roen will ride separately.”

Having worn only robes and priestly vestments for so long, Roen and Jeremi now fidgeted constantly in their unfamiliar formal dresses and suits.

Roen kept tugging at her constricting corset; Jeremi kept unbuttoning his jacket—each time, Andrea quietly re-buttoned it for him.

“These clothes are so uncomfortable—we’ll change and come back.”

“Today is the King’s wedding—just wear them as they are. Changing now will make us late.”

“These are hard to put on but easy to take off. We’re priests and mages—His Majesty will understand.”

Roen and Jeremi truly were perfectly in sync at times like this. They hurried upstairs, while Sikar ushered us out, warning we’d be late.

Perhaps because it was the King’s wedding, colorful banners fluttered from the palace bridge entrance onward.

The entire palace radiated festive atmosphere.

“Duchess! Long time no see!”

Turning around, I saw Hersia’s family and Seo Yeon’s family, each carrying a child, walking toward us.

“Heron’s already grown this much?”

Heron, son of Hersia and Aaron, was handsome—splitting resemblance between his parents—and dignified like his mother.

Heron bowed politely upon seeing me.

“Good day, Duchess.”

“Oh, Heron! Long time indeed. You’ve grown so dignified.”

As we finished greetings, Seo Yeon’s son, Rikaon, offered a polite bow.

“Long time no see, Duchess.”

Rikaon had Seo Yeon’s dark eyes and Reidox’s pink hair.

So dignified—how remarkably dignified.

Come to think of it, everyone except our Romi was dignified.

“Hello, Rikaon. Still as handsome and dignified as ever.”

Romi… had already peeked into the children’s memories and whispered to me.

“Mom, Heron’s a bed wetter. He peed his pants again yesterday.”

“Mm. I know, Romi. But you mustn’t peek into others’ memories like that. Understood?”

“Mom, Mom! Rikaon likes Romi! Yesterday he asked to wear pretty clothes to see Romi!”

“Really? No, no, Romi. You mustn’t read your friends’ memories like that.”

Though Romi’s habit of snooping into children’s memories was troublesome, hearing that Rikaon liked Romi sounded like good news.

If I were to pre-select a future son-in-law, certainly a dignified lad like Rikaon—resembling Reidox—would be ideal.