Episode 3

A few days after Lothania returned from her honeymoon, we left Brincia behind, accompanied by the Emperor’s grand farewell.

When we returned to the Tilender Grand Duchy after a season away, the scent of the wind had changed.

Waiting to greet us outside the castle gates was the head maid, Loren, who gasped in surprise upon seeing Trevor.

“My goodness, Young Master! You’ve grown so much!”

“Loren!”

Trevor leapt out of the carriage and into Loren’s arms.

As she lifted him, Loren playfully exaggerated her effort, breaking into a broad smile.

“Oh, my! You’re so heavy now!”

“Trevor heavy!”

“Yes, Young Master, you’re very impressive.”

Loren’s affectionate words made Trevor turn to me with a curious expression.

“Mother, what does ‘impressive’ mean?”

“It means you’re so wonderful and admirable that you make everyone happy,” I explained, brushing a hand against his cheek.

Trevor seemed delighted with my interpretation.

“Trevor is impressive!”

Puffing out his chest, he repeated Loren’s words with pride, drawing laughter from all the adults around him.

The cheerful sound of their laughter brought joy to Trevor, who giggled gleefully in response.

When we first moved to the Tilender Grand Duchy two years ago, its residents had been far less open with their emotions.

They were the archetype of northern stoicism—reserved and cool—but Trevor’s irresistible charm had quickly melted their defenses.

Now, everyone in the ducal household was unabashedly devoted to the little duke, utterly smitten by his endearing ways.

It was only natural. Even I, his mother, was sometimes astonished by how lovable my son could be.

Leaving Trevor to the maids, who lined up eagerly to dote on him, Aiden and I made our way upstairs.

I sank into the sofa, ready to relax, when Aiden knelt down and began untying my boot laces.

“Aiden? What are you doing?”

“While the bath is prepared, I’ll massage your feet.”

“Massage? My feet?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Why my feet all of a sudden?”

Before I could protest further, Aiden had already slipped off my right boot.

Without giving me time to withdraw, he grabbed my left foot and removed the other boot, replying earnestly, “Your boots were uncomfortable, weren’t they?”

He examined my foot carefully, his expression serious, before starting to knead it gently and attentively.

Though it was initially embarrassing to offer him my unwashed feet, the warmth of his hands quickly soothed the fatigue of the long journey.

The new boots I had worn that morning had indeed been slightly, just slightly, uncomfortable.

However, since I’d spent the day sitting in the carriage, I hadn’t wanted to trouble the maids over something so trivial.

Apparently, I hadn’t hidden it as well as I thought.

Aiden, looking remorseful, murmured an apology.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“It’s fine. It wasn’t a big deal, really,” I reassured him, even waving my hands for emphasis.

But my husband’s slumped shoulders showed no signs of rising.

He continued his careful ministrations before unexpectedly pressing a kiss to the top of my foot.

Even knowing how much he adored me, I found this a little too much.

I flailed my leg in protest, but Aiden held my ankle firmly, tilting his head in confusion.

“Why, my lady?”

“Don’t kiss me there!”

“But, my lady, didn’t you say there’s no place I’m forbidden to kiss?”

As if to prove a point, Aiden lowered his lips to my ankle, his teasing gaze meeting mine.

He had been creatively interpreting my words—that he didn’t need explicit permission to kiss me—for the past six years, using them to his heart’s content.

But this man—why is he looking at me like that while giving me a foot massage?

“Aiden, why are you taking off my stockings?”

“Because you’ll need to bathe, my lady,” he replied with a playful smile, his crimson eyes softening.

Since shedding the restraints of his old vows six years ago, my husband had become increasingly bold.

Back then, he had resembled a starving wild animal desperate for affection. These days, he was more like a large dog, constantly seeking opportunities to lavish his overflowing love.

No, I was wrong.

What kind of dog looks at its owner with such a mischievously provocative gaze?

His hand, which had been soothingly massaging my foot, began to move with a subtle yet deliberate intimacy. I pushed against his shoulder firmly.

“The maids will be here soon to unpack,” I warned.

“No one’s life is so grim that they’d dare to disturb us at a time like this,” he said with a radiant smile, his words lightly masking an underlying possessiveness that sent a shiver down my spine.

I wished he wouldn’t say something so brazen—essentially threatening to bite anyone who dared interrupt us—with such an innocent smile.

Just as I was about to retort, I realized it had been a while since we were truly alone together.

During the journey from Brincia to here, Trevor had always been by our side.

I had planned to take a quick bath and then review the reports waiting for me, but Aiden’s gentle yet insistent allure shook my resolve.

Sensing my hesitation, Aiden grasped the hand I had been using to push him away and pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist.

Breathing in deeply, as if savoring my scent, he looked up at me with those fiery red eyes. The intensity in his gaze was unambiguous and overwhelming.

The heat of his eyes seemed to radiate, igniting something within me.

Reaching out with my free hand, I touched his cheek gently.

“The bathwater will get cold…” I murmured.

“I can reheat it,” he replied without missing a beat, his voice low and urgent.

Before I could come up with another excuse, his lips captured mine, silencing any protests.

In the end, the bathwater grew cold, and it had to be reheated again.

* * *

Only after a stormy interlude did I finally sit down with the retainers to receive the overdue reports on the duchy’s affairs.

Unlike other noble estates, the Tilender Grand Duchy had an unusual arrangement: the head of the family and the lord of the land were two different people.

The head of the family was Aiden, the Grand Duke, but the lord of the territory was me, Sione Rinkel Luminal, the Grand Duchess and former Empress Consort.

While this might sound complicated, it was anything but.

Aiden was perfectly content with his nominal title as the “figurehead Grand Duke,” leaving the true responsibilities to me.

The Tilender Grand Duchy had been neglected for generations, with much in need of repair and attention. My past experience as regent of the empire proved invaluable in managing it.

I was just about to commend my loyal retainers for their excellent stewardship during my absence and conclude the meeting when the captain of the duchy’s knights shared an ominous piece of news.

“The Neudyk Empire has begun mobilizing troops.”

“What?”

“There are rumors that Neudyk is targeting the ‘Forest of Wolves.'”

Had anyone other than Eric, our knight captain, brought this to me, I might have dismissed it as nonsense.

But this was Eric, the former deputy leader of White Shadow, Belpator’s most elite intelligence organization.

Eric, who had once worked alongside Aiden in the empire’s intelligence circles, confirmed that soldiers disguised as hunters had crossed the border to scout the Forest of Wolves.

For centuries, the snowy mountains and the forest below them had been recognized as Belpator’s territory, albeit through an unspoken agreement rather than an official treaty.

While this lack of formal documentation was a potential problem, it didn’t excuse Neudyk’s sudden interest in land they had ignored for centuries.

The timing was too obvious.

“They must be salivating now that the ice in the snowy mountains has started to melt,” Aiden remarked.

He was right.

For reasons still unclear, the climate of the snowy mountains had been shifting over the past few years.

The once inhospitable cold had softened, making the previously desolate “Forest of Wolves” a livable and fertile area.

With its dense fir trees and wide plains, the forest had become a prize worth fighting for.

If we allowed Neudyk to take the forest, the northern border of Belpator would be pulled back to the very gates of the Tilender Grand Duchy.

Unacceptable.

Aiden’s gaze turned sharp and feral as he shook his head, muttering to himself.

“Neudyk wouldn’t openly provoke Belpator like this.”

“You’re correct, Your Grace,” Eric replied. “The scouts weren’t Neudyk soldiers but private forces under Count Munsen.”

“So they’re testing the waters, framing this as a dispute between estates?”

Indeed, the strategy was clear: make it appear to be a local feud between the Tilender Grand Duchy and Munsen’s estate rather than a territorial conflict between Belpator and Neudyk.

If Munsen won, they would demand the forest. If they lost, Neudyk would wash their hands of the matter, claiming no involvement.

A full-scale confrontation would have been outrageous enough, but this underhanded ploy was downright infuriating.

I smirked crookedly, unable to suppress my irritation.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

“Excuse me, Your Grace?”

Eric looked at me in surprise, as did the other retainers, who exchanged bewildered glances.

I knew I should have tempered my expression, but the growing smirk tugging at the corner of my lips wouldn’t stop.

“So, Neudyk plans to stay out of this until the matter between us and Munsen is resolved?”

“That appears to be the case, Your Grace.”

“Then tell them to stay out of it. They won’t dare interfere once things get messy enough.”

As much as I preferred peace—whether during my time as regent or now as the Grand Duchess—I had never considered peace to be a one-sided concession.

If the Neudyk Empire had grown complacent in the long years of tranquility, it was time to correct their misunderstanding.

So long as I stood as the guardian of this land, not even an ant would dare trespass on my daughter’s territory.