The end of the year approached quickly.

As the day of the new year drew nearer, Ophelia frequently left the castle. Idren no longer anxiously tried to find out why she was doing this. It wasn’t something to brag about, but he had a talent for waiting.

He would gladly accept whatever Ophelia gave him.

Thinking that she was busy for his sake – though he felt a little sorry – made him feel so sweet. It felt like the balance of emotions he had always tried to fill had been somewhat achieved.

Of course, giving was good too, but he was also human. Idren sometimes imagined what it would feel like to be loved by someone. It was a shame he couldn’t add depth to it since he had never experienced it, but just imagining was sweet enough.

Having something to look forward to changed his attitude, and those around him noticed the change.

Salode might not have noticed, but Penrel, with whom he occasionally had open conversations, carefully asked:

“Has something good happened?”

Idren brushed off the question vaguely. Sometimes, the most precious things were ones you wanted to keep buried inside.

Still, Penrel seemed to know more about love than him, so he did ask a few things.

“What do lovers usually give as gifts?”

“It depends on the situation, doesn’t it?”

Hearing that, he realized it made sense. Idren added a few conditions.

“It shouldn’t be too burdensome. You know, those light gifts that people exchange when they meet. Something that makes you feel good when you receive it, but doesn’t make you feel like you need to reciprocate. Just about that level would be good.”

On the morning of the year-end party, he would go to pick up Ophelia, and he didn’t want to go empty-handed.

It was the last day of the year, after all. Idren hoped she would end her tumultuous year on a good note.

Penrel answered immediately, as if there was nothing more to consider.

“Flowers would be suitable. The Queen is from the South, isn’t she?”

It was as if he knew from the beginning who Idren had in mind.

Of course, it was natural since there was no one else he could assume to be Idren’s lover.

However, there was something Penrel didn’t know.

“Ophelia doesn’t like flowers.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, last time in Leden…”

In Leden, Ophelia had told him not to bring flowers again when he had brought them.

“It’s troublesome to deal with.”

What had he replied then? He must have been quite hurt in his pride, so he wouldn’t have just backed down.

“You could leave it to the attendants.”

And Ophelia had refuted his stubbornness with one sentence.

“It’s not like others can receive what’s contained within them.”

Only then did Idren realize. Ophelia didn’t dislike flowers.

She just didn’t want to receive what was contained within them.

And now their relationship was very different from the past. Though he couldn’t confidently say he knew everything about Ophelia, Idren knew that she now accepted what he gave to some extent.

Perhaps Penrel’s words might be right.

Having reached a conclusion, Idren agreed.

“As you say, preparing flowers might not be a bad idea.”

Getting flowers wasn’t difficult.

Even though it was winter in Edegrun, Ophelia’s homeland Leden was a country where flowers bloomed all year round. Before long, Idren was able to obtain the exact same flowers he had gotten from Leden. The flowers arrived just in time for the year-end party.

When he saw the bright yellow petals that had been treated to prevent wilting, Idren recalled why he had deliberately chosen these flowers.

He hoped that when she saw them, she would think of him, even if just a little.

Though he found it too embarrassing to say out loud, there were quite a few things he had thrust at Ophelia for such reasons.

Each time, he was rejected outright, almost to the point of feeling cruel.

But this time would be different.

Holding the flowers wrapped beautifully in silk, Idren repeated to himself. This time would be different. It was partly because he truly believed it, but it was more of a wish than a statement.

Since Ophelia hadn’t let him back into her bedroom until the day before the New Year’s party, Idren had to go pick her up.

If he hadn’t known the reason for using separate rooms, he might have been depressed, but now that he had an inkling of the story, it didn’t feel quite that way.

Ophelia must have suggested separate rooms to create a perfect secret for him. It was a secret he would learn in a day.

Hazel, who saw him arrive, gave a silent bow. You’ve come?

“Where’s Ophelia?”

“The Queen will soon…”

Before the knight could finish, the door opened. …be out. Seemingly embarrassed by her interrupted words, Hazel mumbled softly.

Ignoring the knight’s words, Idren frantically took in the woman before him. The silver hair elegantly adorned with jewels, cheeks more vivid than usual, and eyes like a southern lake he had only seen in paintings entered his view.

Of course, Ophelia had always been beautiful. Even when she was quite caustic, Idren couldn’t deny that fact.

But appearance had always been a secondary issue, so he had never thought deeply about it.

When hearing cold words, her face didn’t even register.

But today was different somehow. Something…

And Idren realized what that difference was.

Until now, Ophelia had mostly shown a demeanor like the northern mountains. She looked elegant and perfect, but at the same time, gave off a feeling of being unapproachable.

But today, she was just like the South itself. Soft, full of life, and above all, fantastic.

Idren thought about when he had felt this way before. Was it that moment when she had turned his most miserable thirteenth day into a fond memory?

What brought him back to his senses was Ophelia’s words.

“You came early?”

Only then realizing he had been standing there like a fool, Idren hurriedly turned his face away. It must be burning red, and he felt it looked too pathetic.

“I, I thought you might be waiting, so I hurried a bit.”

He could see Hazel’s expression gradually souring beside him, but what did that matter? His face felt like it was about to burst right now.

No, perhaps this wasn’t something he should be embarrassed about. As his face heated up, his mind started rationalizing on its own. It was natural for a wife to look pretty, and it was natural for one’s body or heart to warm up when meeting a loved one.

So, his reaction was also…

“Why are you turning your head away?”

“Don’t, don’t tease me.”

It was an instinctive response, even though he knew he should go along if Ophelia wanted to tease him.

Perhaps it wasn’t that he was going along with it, but that he had no choice but to be teased.

Idren sensed that he would fall for whatever the other did right now. It was information that flashed like a warning from his remaining reason.

Was he this weak to instinct?

The thought came unbidden.

He had thought he was rather rational, but looking at how he was acting now, it didn’t seem so at all.

It was then that Ophelia stood on her tiptoes and leaned her head towards him.

A scent softer than the sharp and sweet fragrance he usually smelled wafted over him. It seemed mixed with the smell of cosmetics, or perhaps the scent of her skin had become stronger.

In any case, it was still stimulating.

As he trembled, unable to turn his head back, Ophelia let out a small laugh. Surprised by the sound he rarely heard, Idren was about to turn when she whispered.

“I’m not teasing.”

It was a light-hearted comment, obviously tinged with playfulness, but why did it feel like his heart was being squeezed the moment he heard it?

If he could, he wanted to scream. If only he could relieve the sudden pressure deep inside by doing so, he would have run to a place where he could shout right away.

But because he felt like his rapidly beating heart would jump out the moment he opened his mouth, Idren barely suppressed that urge.

Ophelia laughed again at the sight of him with his face turning bright red. The laughter, like the sound of music, brushed past his ears.

While thinking it was good that she was laughing, Idren wished he had been born red. If so, at least he wouldn’t be expressing all sorts of emotions through his face like this.

Stepping back from him, Ophelia said,

“Just give me those flowers.”

Only then did Idren remember that he was holding flowers. It was a fact he had forgotten in a flash because the person who suddenly appeared was too dazzling.

Surely there must be a more graceful way to present them.

Thinking this, he handed over the flowers, which were lightly held in the woman’s hand. Idren glanced at the yellow flowers held in the white hand adorned with a few fine jewels – one of which was their wedding ring.

“They’re beautiful. I like them.”

And the woman added. Thank you. Still dazed, Idren tried to tell her. You’re beautiful too.

But what came out of his mouth was something completely out of place.

“You’re welcome too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you too… you’re wel- no, that’s not it…”

Idren, whose tongue kept getting tangled, rubbed his face and took a moment to catch his breath. Fortunately, Ophelia waited while he made a fool of himself.

When Idren had calmed down somewhat, he corrected himself in a voice that was almost inaudible.

“…I meant to say you’re beautiful too.”

And the man bowed his head deeply.

Ophelia tried not to laugh as she watched her partner act shy like a thirteen-year-old rather than a twenty-three-year-old. She wasn’t one to laugh much, but whether it was due to the medicine she took in the morning or the more intense reaction than expected, she kept wanting to laugh.

She shouldn’t do this, but she kept wanting to be mischievous.

Suppressing the urge, she said,

“Thank you. It feels worthwhile.”