The small body that had collided with his leg flailed precariously. Her gray eyes widened at the sudden sense of being lifted off the ground.

Startled, Helix quickly caught her up in his arms. The short but full hem of her white dress fluttered in the air for a brief moment before settling back down.

“Are you all right?”

Helix steadied his pounding chest as he asked gently.

Still blinking rapidly, Yerenif finally closed her mouth with a small gasp.

“Y-yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

The words of thanks came with surprising clarity, bringing a faint smile to Helix’s lips. Her silver hair curled softly around her face, her gray eyes a shade lighter, her cheeks flushed with sweetness—this little lady was the very image of Ophelia, as though she had been made small again. No one could mistake her for anything but the principality’s one and only princess.

Placing a hand over his chest, Helix bowed.

“I am Helix L. Divine, envoy of the Netion Empire.”

For a moment, Yerenif only stared blankly at his graceful manners. Then, catching herself, she held her skirt and bent her knees in a tiny curtsy, a soft smile on her lips.

“I am Yerenif Eve Weibrick, First Princess of the Principality of Weibrick.”

Watching the charming display, Helix knelt and pressed a kiss to the back of her small hand.

“It is an honor to meet you.”

Yerenif’s face turned red, flushed with both pride and shy embarrassment. For the first time—aside from her brother and father—she had been shown the courtesy due a lady.

Her fingers shifted restlessly in his grasp, and Helix, his voice low and gentle, spoke softly.

“There are many envoys gathered in the rear garden just now. And soon, the Founding Festival will begin. May I ask why Your Highness is here alone?”

In response to his kind enquiry, Yerenif’s eyes trembled faintly. Only then did she realize that Yser must be looking for her. She had slipped away out of boredom while he finished making the final preparations, and her detour had ended up taking much longer than she had planned.

“Huungh…”

Her face darkened as she remembered the time she had secretly climbed the rear tower alone, only to be told off by her brother for the first time.

Helix’s senses picked up on the quiet voices of attendants moving through the secondary palace. They were clearly searching for her.

Looking at Yerenif’s tearful, anxious expression, Helix remembered the gift he had tucked inside his coat.

“Your Highness.”

“Mm?”

At the sound of his voice, Yerenif turned her head.

Kneeling on one knee, Helix met her eyes and drew a small gift box from his br*ast.

“A present I meant for you, Princess.”

“Waa…”

Inside the small box lay a pendant of iridescent mother-of-pearl, shaped like a seashell. To a child raised among countless treasures, it might have seemed simple. Yet Yerenif’s eyes gleamed brighter than ever as she gazed upon it.

Helix set the gift gently in her little hand, then once more extended his gloved hand toward her.

“If it would not be an offense, may I have the honor of escorting Your Highness for a short while?”

Yerenif’s eyes widened. The gift, the kneeling posture, the offered hand—above all…

“You’re supposed to ask the one you love most to be your escort!”

A man who loved her. It was clear. This was the very proposal she had read of only in her fairy-tale books.

Yerenif’s expression grew solemn. The silver hair, so like her mother’s and her own, the golden eyes that gleamed in a way she adored, the gentle smile—he was the very image of the prince in her stories, the very one her father seemed to dislike.

With all the gravity her small face could hold, Yerenif parted her lips. And at that moment—

“Yerenif!”

“Ah.”

Startled, she turned her head. Yser’s face, usually lit with a gentle smile, was now clouded with worry. To Yerenif, however, it looked exactly like her father’s when he reprimanded the servants. Without thinking, she clutched Helix’s hand tightly.

“Joah.”

“Princess?”

“J-just for a little, as my escort.”

Yser’s eyes widened. Yerenif, avoiding his gaze, only clung more tightly to Helix.

Helix let out a quiet breath and smiled.

“It is an honor, Princess.”

He turned to Yser as well, offering a polite smile to the wary young lord.

“My apologies for the late introduction, Young Master. Just for the walk back to the palace, if I may.”

At that, Yser sighed softly, placed a hand to his chest, and returned the courtesy before accompanying them.

All the way back, Yerenif avoided Yser’s gaze, gripping Helix’s hand tightly.

And when they finally reached the main palace, Helix was fortunate to return the princess to Chadwick and Ophelia before the procession began.

“My thanks.”

Chadwick looked briefly at Yerenif, then offered Helix his gratitude after their long-awaited meeting.

Helix smiled, about to return the greeting to Chadwick and Ophelia after so many years.

“Daddy.”

Yerenif looked at Chadwick with a solemn face and declared—

“Daddy, I’m getting married.”

Clutching Helix’s arm, she dropped the bomb.

In an instant, the relationship between the two men—softened over the past seven years of cooperation—plunged straight into ruin.

⚫ ⚫ ⚫

By some miracle, the Founding Festival proceeded without disruption despite Yerenif’s explosive declaration—or at least, so it appeared on the surface.

The visiting envoys concluded that forging ties with such a remarkable nation—one that had risen to rival an empire in less than ten years—was the wisest choice. They welcomed the lavish banquet prepared for them and their retinues.

Helix might have done the same had Chadwick’s gaze not been so sharp, carrying not only suspicion but also something perilously close to bloodlust. Stifling a sigh, Helix retreated to the secondary palace as soon as the banquet ended.

And thus, the first day of the Founding Festival drew to a close.

That night, Chadwick stopped by Yerenif’s room, only to be shaken when she insisted she was now a “lady.” Still reeling from her words, he returned to the bedchamber he shared with Ophelia.

“Chadwick, don’t worry so much. You explained to her already that being an escort doesn’t mean that.”

Ophelia’s voice trembled with repressed laughter as she called to him.

Chadwick crossed the room, kissed her on the forehead, then sat down beside her on the bed.

“It feels… different somehow. She even says she doesn’t need her goodnight kiss anymore.”

His voice was so genuinely stricken that Ophelia chuckled softly and took his hand.

“She’s only doing it because you didn’t escort her today. Tomorrow morning, if you tell her she’s the one you love most, she’ll come running back into your arms as though nothing happened.”

“That would be a problem.”

Chadwick furrowed his brow at her words, then lifted her hand and pressed his lips to it.

“You know you are always the first for me.”

At that, Ophelia could no longer hold back and burst into laughter. Nestling into his solid chest, she teased,

“Then you’ll have to work harder to win Yerenif’s heart back.”

Chadwick sighed, yet held her close, as though he would never let her go.

Four years had passed since Yerenif’s birth. Six years since their second wedding. And through all that time, Chadwick and Ophelia had lived each day happier than the last—so much so that the wounds of the past now lingered only as faint scars.

Their days were no longer filled with stories of what had been, but with dreams of what was yet to come. And yet, today, Yerenif’s words had led them to picture a future still far away.

“What do you think it will be like? When Yerenif and Yser truly find someone they love—when we, and our family, are no longer their first priority?”

At her question, Chadwick’s gray eyes darkened.

He thought of the children—tiny, restless Yser as a newborn, Yerenif’s unsteady first steps.

To imagine those days ending, to imagine the children growing up and leaving their side, filled him all at once with an unbearable loneliness.

Ophelia seemed to feel it too; she pressed her face against his chest. It was still a distant future. Yet it was a future that would surely come.

In a low voice, Chadwick murmured,

“When that day comes, there will be another kind of happiness.”

The happiness of their children’s children filling the places once left behind. The happiness of seeing their son and daughter smile beside lifelong partners. And all of that happiness, he would share with Ophelia—always.

Chadwick smiled.

“Yes… that’s true.”

Startled by his words, Ophelia opened her eyes, then smiled softly as she clasped his hand tightly. Once, long ago, they had believed that letting go of each other’s hands was the only path to happiness. But they had learned the truth: happiness began the moment they held on.

Warmth filled their hearts, and a blanket of peace, anticipation, and joy settled over them. So long as they never released that happiness, it would last forever—and of this, neither Ophelia nor Chadwick held the slightest doubt.

Their grey and violet eyes met, sharing the same quiet warmth. Then there was a gentle knock on the door, which opened a little.

“Daddy…”

Yerenif peeked in, her silvery curls slipping through the doorway. Behind her stood Yser, as though he had brought her by the hand.

“Read me a story, please…”

Her voice, shy and tinged with pink embarrassment, made the couple laugh softly together before opening their arms to their children.

Yerenif went first, and Yser—hesitant at first—followed, both of them nestled against their parents.

On the wide bed, reunited for the first time in a while, the family clasped hands.

“I still wish this happiness could last a little longer.”

Chadwick murmured, kissing each child’s face in turn.

“So do I.”

The children, not understanding, blinked in puzzlement, while the couple only smiled at each other.

The noisy day came to a gentle close.

A low, soothing voice carried the storybook aloud, page after page, until at last the final one was turned.

“…And so, they all lived happily, forever.”

Smiles of happiness spread across the faces of parents and children alike.

As the book closed and night fell, it brought with it the promise of even greater joy the following day.

It was another happy night that they would remember for a long time.