Idren asked with an expression of disbelief.

“Did you just smile?”

“…Me?”

“Yes, just now here…”

The man reached out his hand toward her lips with a dazed look. As soon as his hand touched the corner of her mouth, a rush of heat swept over her. Startled, Ophelia quickly turned her back.

Looking at a shadowy corner of the room, she stammered.

“W-why are you touching my face?”

An apology came immediately.

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

“…There’s no need to apologize.”

It was startling, but not unpleasant.

Besides, they were already married. They held hands every day, so of course touching faces should be fine.

She knew this perfectly well.

So why was she acting like this? Giving up on calming her flushed cheeks, Ophelia hoped the dim light in the room was enough to hide her warmth. She couldn’t understand why she had been acting this way lately. Idren seemed the same as usual, so why was she alone…

Just then, there was a rustling sound and the man’s hand came to rest on her waist.

Ophelia froze at the heat touching such a sensitive area. Though not very experienced sexually, she knew what this kind of contact meant.

In that brief moment, all sorts of thoughts ran through her mind. She thought Idren might want more here, but at the same time, she felt there was no reason they couldn’t do whatever he wanted.

In their past life, they had already done everything there was to do. Moreover, Ophelia remembered what she had said on their wedding night.

Clearly, she had said she didn’t mind whatever he did.

Idren had responded to her words like this:

“I dislike it unless you say you like it.”

So in this situation, should she say she liked it?

Having never been in this position before, she didn’t know what to say. Ophelia rolled her eyes.

It was then that a low voice sounded above her head.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

The rich baritone was filled with pure joy. Only then realizing she had been having useless fantasies, Ophelia relaxed her shoulders.

Of course, this man wouldn’t do such a thing without any discussion.

It was an obvious fact, but she strangely felt deflated. Ophelia thought it was all because of the man behind her. Hadn’t he acted ambiguously first, giving her room for misunderstanding?

Annoyed at the one who had provided the pretext first, Ophelia slapped the hand on her waist.

“Shall I remove it?”

“…There’s no need for that.”

Despite her prim response, her ears were reddening. Idren lowered his head slightly towards the shoulder of the woman who couldn’t be honest and thought. I was right. What remarriage, indeed.

Ophelia had told him to prepare for after she left, but Idren knew that wasn’t her true feelings. She was too conscious of him to casually hand him over to another woman without a care.

“But that’s just my position, and it must have been burdensome for you. So I won’t do that anymore.”

Of course, that’s what he said.

It wasn’t a lie. Idren really intended to keep that promise. He wouldn’t cling to her begging her to live.

At least not until the very end.

“Instead, will you promise me one thing? Tell me before you make a decision. I think we’re close enough for a proper farewell.”

He hadn’t made such childish remarks for nothing.

Even if Ophelia steeled her heart and tried to push him away, she wouldn’t be able to ignore those words. It was in her nature not to leave behind any sense of debt.

And if the time came when Ophelia bid him farewell, Idren intended to hold onto her even if he had to overturn his own words many times over. He would gladly do so even if there wasn’t the slightest justification for clinging to her.

Nevertheless, when he had to speak as if he was really giving her up, Idren almost cried because he was truly frustrated. It was upsetting that he had to use such weak tactics to hold onto her.

Other husbands seemed to be loved well enough.

Even those who put in less effort than him were all cherished.

But because he was Ophelia’s husband, not some other woman’s, Idren ultimately had to accept his situation. It was only natural that he should endure this much if he wanted to stay by Ophelia’s side.

Pulling his one and only wife a little closer into his embrace, Idren thought that everything would work out well. It was good that they had a big event like war ahead of them. As long as Ophelia was by his side…

He whispered from a position where he could clearly see her reddened ears.

“It looked good. Please smile often from now on.”

Prince Masaran, the second prince of Brinwell, was walking in the palace garden. He was holding the hand of his niece Namie with his left hand.

The young child, who had fled to her maternal family due to a rebellion in her home country, was very fond of him. She probably thought he resembled her father.

Summer made even the weather in Rapham, the capital of Brinwell, pleasant, making it a perfect day for a walk, but Masaran was very troubled.

Recently, a guest had come to the kingdom. The man with dazzling golden hair and pomegranate-red eyes was the second prince of Egelbamot.

In fact, the relationship between Brinwell and Egelbamot was not good enough for Egelbamot’s royalty to visit. They had Aglante between them, and were not very close, either physically or culturally.

But after exchanging a few letters with a nobleman from Aglante, his father the king suddenly welcomed the second prince of Egelbamot into the country.

Of course, the second prince didn’t come empty-handed. He brought enormous wealth, which was expected to help Brinwell’s economy during the upcoming war with Aglante.

But the clearer the gains and losses seemed, the more complicated Masaran’s thoughts became. He wasn’t sure if the war was right, or if it was right to accept help from Egelbamot’s second prince.

Perhaps he was also displeased that his father was making plans while excluding him. Their father, King Nasda, noticeably favored his first son, Harrot.

Masaran, the second son, had tried several times to please his father, but being naturally prone to worry and overthinking, it wasn’t easy.

Holding his hand, Namie pleaded.

“Uncle, I want to sit over there.”

“Alright, Namie.”

Masaran sat down on a chair in the corner of the garden, led by his niece. And his eyes met with a man walking from across.

“Prince Masaran. Good morning. Good morning to you too, young princess.”

The man with eyes red like jewels greeted him with a bright smile. It was the guest from Egelbamot who had been complicating his thoughts just moments ago.

The second prince, who always had an attendant with him, was unusually alone. Masaran wondered where that attendant, who had seemed quite loyal to his master, had gone. Part of the reason his father had accepted Egelbamot’s second prince was because that attendant had cured the king’s asthma.

While he was lost in thought with the other person in front of him, Namie got up from her seat and approached him. It happened before he had a chance to stop her.

“Pretty…”

Embarrassed by the child’s honest words, Masaran scolded his niece.

“Namie, it’s rude to say such things to our guest.”

Of course, it was true that Egelbamot’s second prince was noticeably beautiful. But Namie’s words were a bit too informal to say to royalty from another country.

The man, seemingly used to such occurrences, answered with a smile and without any sign of embarrassment.

“It’s alright. Children usually say whatever comes to mind.”

Watching Namie grab the second prince’s hand, Masaran thought he should pay more attention to his niece’s etiquette education.

“Even so, if words are spoken with malice, one must take responsibility for them.”

And the prince sat down in front of them, following Namie. Normally, he should have asked for permission before sitting, but since Namie had taken his hand and led him first, it made this side seem impolite instead.

Namie kept staring at the prince’s face, seemingly fascinated by the perfect beauty she had never seen before. The more his niece did this, the more uncomfortable Masaran became in this situation.

Clearing his throat and thinking about how to naturally bring his niece back to his side, the prince spoke to him.

“I understand that you may dislike me, Prince.”

“No, Your Highness.”

“It’s alright, you can be honest. It’s understandable that you might not like a foreigner who suddenly entered your country.”

After all, foreigners are usually unwelcome wherever they go.

There was a hint of wistfulness on the man’s face, which made Masaran feel a bit of discomfort and guilt. Although he wasn’t kind to everyone despite his timid nature, Egelbamot’s second prince looked particularly pitiful and stood out to him.

He awkwardly said,

“But my father likes you, doesn’t he? The king’s will is always right…”

For a moment, the man tilted his head slightly. His pomegranate-red eyes sparkled. His golden hair, holy enough to appear in a sacred painting and gleaming like pure gold, caught the eye.

Golden hair symbolized the three royal families – Sigrasal, Runtalis, and Brinwell’s Rognak – but Masaran thought the prince’s hair was closest to perfect gold. In fact, in terms of appearance, everything about him was perfect.

But to say that appearance was everything would be wrong, as he blended in too well with his surroundings. Masaran recalled how beloved the prince was in the palace.

Although the second prince hadn’t been in Brinwell for long, already all the palace servants were kind to him. He didn’t seem to have much face-to-face interaction with high officials, but Masaran could tell that the prince would easily win their favor as well.

Since it couldn’t be just because of his looks, it was certain that Runtalis’s second prince had a power to attract people.

“The king’s will is the king’s will, and the prince’s will is the prince’s will. Just because the king has accepted me doesn’t mean I expect the prince to do the same.”

The prince, who had spoken the most ideal words gently, asked.

“I heard you dislike war, Prince.”

“Yes, shamefully so.”

“Why is that shameful?”

“…Don’t you support the war, Your Highness?”

“I do. But that’s because I’ve rationally considered that war would be more beneficial.”

And the man slightly furrowed his brow and tilted his head.

“Could it be that King Nasda hasn’t told you anything?”

“My father has been very busy lately.”

Masaran hesitated for a moment before adding.

“I’m not exactly his favorite son.”

His father had always disapproved of his timidity.

Even though it was a fact he didn’t usually mention in front of others, somehow the words slipped out. Perhaps it was because he had seen this man getting along so well with others without pretense.

As Masaran was about to blush with embarrassment at his own impulse, the prince said.

“No, I’m sure King Nasda thinks of you often, even if he doesn’t express it. I guarantee it.”

A royal attendant approached them.

“Your Highness, Second Prince. His Majesty the King is looking for you.”

“Ah, has it become that time already?”

And the prince gently removed Namie’s hand, which was still fiddling with his own, then stood up.

“Since we’ve had a conversation today, I’ll treat you to tea sometime later.”

Then the man turned and followed the attendant. Masaran watched the retreating figure of the man as if mesmerized. Coincidentally, sunlight shone down on him, making the man literally sparkle.

That night, the Brinwell army crossed the Kirios Mountains.

Masaran first heard the news from his father’s lips.