“Selaia.”

At the sound of her name, Laska turned. Just that single word—spoken softly, full of emotion—was enough for him to understand her heart completely. He nodded with a knowing smile.

“Shall we go see our family now?”

Selaia’s lips curved into a bright smile, and she nodded. Together, they urged their horses forward once more.

“Thank you!”
“Be happy!”

The voices of the people faded behind them, carrying blessings that made Selaia’s chest swell with warmth. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the rising flutter of anticipation.

‘Soon…!’

They would meet again.

The royal palace of Grand Perrier, which had seemed so distant before, now loomed ever larger before her eyes.

Right before the grand gates, Selaia spotted the face she had longed to see.

Recognizing her as well, the other lifted her shoulders and cried out, opening her mouth wide in joy.

“Mom!”

That familiar, beloved voice rang out across the courtyard.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Selaia pulled the reins and leapt down from her horse.

Her daughter, with hair the color of pale rose petals, ran to her as fast as her little legs could carry her. Kyle followed behind her with an exasperated yet fond expression.

“Mommy—!”

Their shadows met and merged as the child threw herself into her mother’s arms.

“Rote, my darling girl.”

Selaia gathered her daughter tightly, whispering words she had held in her heart for far too long—words heavy with love and longing.

“I love you too, Mommy…”

The child sobbed, tears spilling down her cheeks. Laska, who had dismounted and led his horse after them, watched the reunion with a gentle smile.

“It’s all right now, Rote.”

Selaia smoothed Rote’s hair and wiped the tears from her face. Her green eyes, damp from the rain, met her daughter’s pale green ones.

“Everything’s going to be all right now.”

She whispered a vow and pressed a trembling kiss to Rote’s forehead. Burying her face deeper in her mother’s embrace, Rote nodded and sobbed.

⭕ ⭕ ⭕

“You two know you’ve become heroes here in Teian, right?”
“Huh?”

After they had moved into the palace, Kyle revealed something utterly unexpected. News had spread throughout Teian about how Selaia and Rote had warned Kyle about the Tropez attack and the measures they had taken to prevent it. Rumors born within the palace had travelled throughout the kingdom.

“On top of that, the story that that wretched woman sold Lady Tran to the empire is in the papers, too.”

Kyle sat crooked on the settee, scowling as if the whole thing irritated him.

“What? How—?”

Selaia, holding Rote, looked surprised. From her lap the child snuffled in anger.

“House Harper confessed everything. Scarlett Harper admitted to colluding with Tropez’s deposed general, stealing passes to sneak into the palace, and then being betrayed and killed by that general.”

“So they renounced every title except for the marquisate, and struck Scarlett Harper’s name from the family registry. Their honor’s in tatters, but I suppose they’re trying to limit further damage.”
“And the marquis resigned the Minister of War post.”

Laska added casually, spearing a forkful of food.

Selaia fell quiet, thinking. Scarlett—born to one of Teian’s old noble houses—had betrayed the kingdom, while the outsiders from Tropez, Selaia and Rote, had guarded it.

‘That contrast must have won people over.’

Scarlett’s betrayal would have been met with harsher condemnation, particularly at a time when the nation needed to unite against a foreign invasion. Whether or not she had intended to abandon her homeland was irrelevant now.

“I wanted to press a heavier punishment on House Harper, but my uncle stopped me. He said Lady Tran wouldn’t want that.”

The boy’s tone made it clear he didn’t entirely approve. Laska narrowed his eyes, silently mouthing ‘You tattletale.’ But Kyle ignored him, resting his chin on his arm and looking at Selaia with a sulky expression.

“Lady Tran, you really don’t want them punished?”

“…Mm, no.”

She nodded cautiously. Kyle sighed quietly through his pursed lips.

Watching his nephew’s reaction, Laska speared a slice of apple with his fork and held it to Rote’s mouth. The child opened his mouth without hesitation and took the bite happily.

“Lady Tran’s too kind for her own good. You’ll only get taken advantage of if you live like that.”

Selaia gave an awkward smile.

“Well… actually, there’s another reason.”

“Another reason?”

Kyle tilted his head, curious. She nodded slightly before explaining.

“Right now, the voices condemning House Harper are loud—but that’s just the mood of the moment.”

“People adjust their sails with the wind.”

Laska added lightly, watching Rote munch the apple with a fond smile. Selaia met his gaze with a look of agreement.

“If Teian starts punishing one of its oldest noble families for the sake of an outsider, resentment will rise before long.”

Her tone was calm, measured.

“When circumstances change, loyalties change too.” In a national crisis, for example, everyone rallies around the crown for unity’s sake. But once stability returns, they’ll pursue their own interests again and the outcome is unpredictable.”

She smiled faintly.

“I’m going to live in Teian now. There’s no need to start making enemies before I’ve even settled in.”

Laska nodded.

“And from the royal family’s perspective, showing leniency when the Harpers have already bowed their heads looks far more gracious to the public.”

“That’s politics.”

Kyle, who’d been listening with a stunned look, finally clicked his tongue.

“I… never thought that far ahead.”

Laska smiled wryly.

“Then you should start.”

Laska spoke like a true advisor. Kyle, who had started to admire Selaia, ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Ugh! This complicated stuff is way too hard! How did my father ever cope with it?”

He tugged at his hair, then hung his head.

“Everyone praises me for ending the war immediately after I ascended the throne, but without you and Lady Tran, I wouldn’t have achieved anything. And I probably won’t in future either.”

If not for Selaia, he would have been thrown into chaos after Tropez’s invasion. And without Laska’s strategic retreat, Terminus would have fallen.

‘I’ve heard whispers that some even think Uncle should’ve been king instead.’

Kyle thought. If he knew, then surely Laska did too.

“What does it even mean to have the qualities of a king?”

He murmured, his uncertainty heavy in the air.

Selaia and Laska exchanged quiet glances. For all his intellect, Kyle was still young—bright, but inexperienced. That lack of years and weight of responsibility must have been what humbled his otherwise confident nature.

But the young king had someone who would guide and stand beside him with genuine faith.

Turning toward his nephew, Laska softened his tone.

“Your Majesty.”

Kyle lifted his head. His eyes were faintly red, but there were no tears. Laska smiled faintly, almost wryly.

“To be honest, I’m not fit to lead a nation.”

“That’s a lie to make me feel better, isn’t it?”

Kyle narrowed his violet eyes skeptically.

“Grandfather told me you were brilliant even as a child. Sharp judgment, skilled in tactics and strategy.”

“That’s the ability of a commander, not of a king.”

Laska replied simply. Kyle fell silent, unsure how to answer.

“The reason I could never be a king is because I care more about myself than I do about Teian.”

“…What do you mean?”

Kyle’s puzzled violet gaze remained fixed on him.

“Take the marriage proposal that Hilbrante offered, for example. If I had been chosen, I would have refused without hesitation.”

He turned to Selaia, eyes softening.

“Because I wouldn’t give up the person I love for the sake of a kingdom.”

A small, flustered laugh escaped Selaia as she lowered her gaze, cheeks tinged with color.

Meanwhile, Rote, who had been listening intently, nodded with great seriousness—as if she couldn’t have agreed more.