It was felt that he moved his fingers with more caution than necessary, trying not to touch her skin as much as possible.

The slender ribbon, half-wound around his hand, gradually took on a rather convincing shape, and the more it did, the more Kasallin felt heat rising to her nape.

It wasn’t particularly strange.

At a distance where his breath could be felt, having the person she liked dress her up, it would be stranger not to be caught up in a peculiar mood.

“Is it done?”

His hand, which had gradually slowed, now felt as if it were barely moving.

When only the final knot remained, he deliberately left the ribbon’s end untied, gently stroking it as he answered.

“No… It’s my first time handling a lady’s clothing, so I’m struggling quite a bit.”

He had seemed to tie the first two knots without hesitation, so was he teasing her on purpose?

Kasallin’s nape, and even her shoulders exposed under the light, were now entirely flushed red.

Parnes, who had been calmly gazing at her with eyes that seemed to flicker like flames, suddenly tied the final knot with swift precision.

“It’s done.”

Feeling as though she had just emerged from dunking her head underwater, Kasallin quickly stepped back as soon as his hand left the ribbon.

If she stayed by the lamp any longer, her hopelessly flushed face would surely be noticed.

“Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome.”

No more words were exchanged.

Except for the sound of the massive ship cutting through the waves and the creaking from the floorboards below.

Unlike before, when meeting would spark some conversation, after that incident on the island, she no longer knew how to speak to him or what to say.

It was likely because this journey had made her realize and understand her feelings for him all too clearly.

Perhaps her own awkwardness had spread to him, as he, too, remained just as silent.

“Come to think of it, you came to the room early tonight.”

“Yes. It’s time to sleep.”

Parnes answered matter-of-factly, almost indifferently, as he walked to the bed, neatly spreading the blanket and arranging the pillow.

Kasallin asked, puzzled.

“Don’t you usually stay up at this hour?”

“That was the case before, but not anymore.”

Was he okay with nightmares?

Or did he mean he would lie down out of courtesy and wait until she fell asleep first?

Kasallin waited for more explanation, but he didn’t offer any reason.

Parnes sat lightly on the edge of the bed, gently patting the spot beside him.

As if beckoning her to come over.

The few taps, which carried no other intent, felt dizzyingly improper, likely because she was overly conscious of him.

Through the loosely tied night robe, his upper body was faintly visible, trained to the limits of human capability, perfectly balanced.

His hair, still damp from a recent wash, shimmered with a brighter silver at the tips, and the line from his exposed forehead to the tip of his nose was strikingly sharp and refined.

Kasallin went to his side, lifted the blanket, and lay on her side.

Peeking over the blanket and gazing at him, their eyes met.

At that moment, the candlelight between his fingers vanished into a wisp of smoke.

In an instant, the room was filled with darkness.

Having been in bright light, the sudden absence of it made even nearby things invisible.

“Your Majesty, where…”

“I’m here.”

With the rustling sound of the blanket moving, his hand brushed against hers.

His fingers, delicately touching hers without moving, slowly intertwined with hers at a pace slower than the ticking of a clock.

Was all of this truly without any special reason?

Or was he trying to be kinder, consciously or not, out of guilt over the misunderstanding with Olivia?

Given his subtly thoughtful and gentle nature, it seemed entirely possible.

“Don’t blink those round eyes. Go to sleep.”

“You… can you see me?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t see Your Majesty.”

A soft chuckle was heard, and with it, his distinctive, rich, mature scent wafted over.

“Can you see now?”

“No…”

Just then, the round moon, previously hidden behind clouds, emerged as if it had been waiting, and radiant moonlight poured through the small window onto their heads.

His perfect face was at a distance where their lips would touch if she lowered her head just slightly.

His eyes, usually warm like the glow of dusk, now shimmered with a strangely fierce energy.

As if a single touch could snap a chain loose.

“Your Majesty…?”

Before she could closely examine his face, a large palm covered her eyes.

Kasallin’s vision was once again filled with darkness, and he spoke in his usual blunt but gentle tone.

“It’s time to sleep, my lady.”

As if silently warning that what she saw was a trick of the eyes.

“And this matter should be brought up at the next imperial meeting. The vassals might have differing opinions.”

“Very well. I’ll handle it accordingly.”

Having completed the long tour, they were finally on the ship returning to the imperial palace.

Under the warm sunlight filtering through fluffy clouds, Kasallin and Parnes sat across from each other, reports and maps spread out, having just finished their discussion.

Kasallin stretched her stiff arms high into the sky.

Parnes looked at her and asked.

“Are you tired?”

“Strangely, I’ve been yawning a lot since yesterday. It’s not like my body feels heavy.”

“It’s probably because the unfamiliar life at sea has gone on too long. You should go to your room and take a nap.”

“If I nap now, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“What’s there to worry about if you can’t sleep at night? I’ll sing you a lullaby and pat you a few times, and you’ll sleep like the world doesn’t exist.”

Parnes mumbled, casually flipping through the remaining documents.

Kasallin glanced at Ludwig and Sir Nigel, who were desperately pretending not to hear, and her face turned bright red.

Loren Logia had turned away entirely, struggling to suppress a grin.

Parnes looked at the flush rising on his wife’s cheeks with great interest.

Fearing he might carry her to the bedroom if she stayed, Kasallin hurriedly left the deck and entered the cabin.

“His Majesty, really…”

Recently, her relationship with Parnes hadn’t changed much on the surface, yet so much felt different.

He was still kind and treated her gently, but at times, his affection felt so intense that it made her overly conscious of him.

Whenever that happened, Kasallin was caught between hope and doubt, wondering if he, too, might have developed even the slightest special feelings for her.

While working on something else, she’d feel his gaze, look up, and find him quietly staring at her most of the time.

As if meticulously contemplating how to devour the prey caught in his grasp.

In those moments, Kasallin felt as though her arms and legs were bound by a snare, left defenseless in the palm of his hand.

“Your Majesty, would you like me to light some incense?”

Snapped out of her thoughts by Loren Logia’s voice from outside, Kasallin replied that she’d appreciate it.

Loren Logia entered, lit the candle, and glanced at Kasallin with a curious expression.

“Your Majesty, you’ve been sleeping a lot lately. You’re not unwell, are you?”

“Unwell? If I were, His Majesty would’ve noticed first.”

It was strange.

She hadn’t mentioned it to Parnes to avoid worrying him, but lately, she’d been dozing off several times a day.

It wasn’t just a lack of sleep; it felt closer to an overwhelming, irresistible drowsiness enveloping her entire body.

Even at times when she would’ve read another book, the cozy blanket seemed to beckon, urging her to lie down.

Never in her life had she felt such a desire to be lazy.

‘It’s probably, as His Majesty said, because the sea journey has been too long. I’ll feel better after a good nap.’

Kasallin kicked off her shoes and crawled into bed.

Less than five minutes after burying her face in the blanket, thick with Parnes’ captivating scent, her eyelids grew heavy.

Just as she was about to surrender to that hazy, sweet sleep.

“Your Majesty! An intruder!”

Startled by someone’s urgent shout from outside, Kasallin, on the verge of slipping into unconsciousness, snapped awake.

The sounds of people running across the deck and doors slamming shut and opening echoed in succession.

Half-rising, holding her breath for a moment, Kasallin hurriedly put on her shoes, tidied her hair roughly, and stepped outside.

“What in the world is going on?”

“Oh, my lady. The noise woke you.”

Parnes, with a serious expression, approached and gently patted Kasallin’s cheek.

He positioned her behind him, and Sir Antonio and Vincent, swords drawn, stood guard on either side of her.

Wondering what had happened, Kasallin peeked over Parnes’ shoulder.

A person in a tattered cloak, bound with ropes, knelt on the deck, surrounded by sailors and knights.

“Who is that?”

“We found them hiding among the cargo crates by chance. It seems they sneaked aboard while we were docked at Freta Island for a few days.”

“Sneaked aboard? Onto an imperial escort ship?”

Kasallin looked at the unidentified intruder with disbelief.

Just then, a strong eastern wind blew, lifting the hood that had been pulled low, revealing their face under the sunlight.