"Do you need me to make you a cup of tea, Your Majesty?"
"No need."
In a room that was not too spacious, but still felt spacious, piles of papers filled the surface of a large wooden table that was clearly used as a work desk.
Behind the table sat a relatively young man with a white wig typical of the 18th-19th century appearance and clothes that reflected his status. He looked busy, his eyes focused on the documents in front of him. Between the fingers of his right hand was a classic pen with a feather decoration on the tip, which continued to dance on the paper, producing a soft rubbing sound that filled the room.
He was the person who held full responsibility for this territory—Lord Markhal Alexion del Korynth.
"Very well, Your Majesty."
The maids who had previously been near him began to leave the room in order and very neatly, until finally they were no longer visible.
Even so, the room was not completely empty because there were still two other occupants in it besides Alexion.
"Please sign this as well, Your Majesty."
"Alright. Thank you, Aeson."
Another man near Alexion seemed to be helping him take care of the documents that were piling up like a mountain. From his appearance, the man seemed to be not too far from Alexion's age and still looked young, but on the one hand he also looked as dignified as Alexion.
The man's name was Aeson, someone who was also responsible for matters in the del Korynth family mansion, or in short he was usually called Butler.
"It seems like the work attacks will only stop targeting you if Eldirith starts attacking us instead."
While on the other side of the room, a woman in a beautiful red dress and strawberry blonde hair was sitting on the sofa in the room.
"Please don't say such terrible things....." Alexion complained to what the woman said.
"Haha, I was just kidding, Your Majesty."
"If the Lumens hear that we'll be in trouble, you know that?"
"Those parasites?" Her voice sounded skeptical, "they are currently busy with their prostitutes."
"Forget it, as usual, your words are really sharp."
"Hehe, thank you."
Alexion, who was busy with his work, did not want the argument with the woman in front of him to disturb his concentration. So, he decided not to continue any further and stopped there. In fact, no one had ever dared to refute Alexion's words. So, what was happening now was something truly rare.
Of course, all of this was only possible because the woman sitting on the sofa was Alexion's wife, or commonly called Lady Eudoria—the only person he had always loved since the first time they met several years ago.
"Besides," Alexion glanced around Eudoria, "before you talk about me, take a look at yourself."
What Alexion was referring to were the colorful envelopes scattered from the sofa and some even fell to the floor below.
"Hehe, it can't be helped, the social season is coming soon," said Eudoria who was sorting through the envelopes she was sitting on.
Alexion looked back at the documents in front of him, but his voice still flowed calmly, "That season, huh... Sometimes I can't understand the nobles who are busy partying, while their people are starving."
What Alexion said was not something he made up because if there were stupid tourists from abroad who visited this country, they would even know that this country is on its way to destruction.
The Eight Monarchs War had indeed ended several decades ago, but its great impact was still felt until now.
Even Alexion heard rumors that now the country no longer had money in their coffers, something that made him think that it might be exaggerated but if it did happen it would not be something surprising to him.
"Your Majesty..." Eudoria glanced at her busy husband. "You are very different from those blue-blooded nobles. They were spoiled by their parents who grew up spoiled by their parents. While you... you were raised by your father—a strict military man, wasn't he?"
"Yes, and I'm proud of it."
"Well, it's understandable if Your Majesty doesn't understand them."
"Then, what about you?"
"Eh, me?" She paused, placing her index finger on her delicate cheek—a small gesture as she pretended to think. Then she said in a light tone, "I don't know... I'm just the daughter of a lowly noble, and I married because of the persuasion of my father, who once owed his life to your father on the battlefield. That's all."
Hearing that, Alexion paused for a moment and turned to her.
"Is that so? Do you regret it?"
"Have I ever looked like I regret it, Your Majesty?" he replied, covering his mouth with his fingertips, his laughter sounding light and seductive from behind his smile.
Hearing this from his wife, a sense of joy enveloped Alexion's heart and made him even more enthusiastic about his work.
It was as if they had also forgotten that Aeson was now in the room, seemingly still unaccustomed and awkward to seeing these masters flirting with each other, even though he had worked at this manor for quite some time.
Aeson actually wanted to shout *Typical show-off!* at his two masters. Of course, in the end, Aeson could only suppress his urge.
"Even so, it seems like these invitation envelopes aren't decreasing, instead is increasing every year..."
Seeing his confused wife, Alexion simply sighed. He wondered if she was aware of her own charm.
From any perspective, even compared to the most glamorous nobles in the capital—who were covered in makeup and luxurious clothing—his wife was still far more captivating with her exquisite natural beauty.
Indeed, the noble blood that flowed in her came only from a lower-class family—her native territory had even now been annexed to the Markhalnate del Korynth.
Sometimes, Alexion himself felt incredibly lucky to have Eudoria as his wife—especially considering that his own appearance was rather ordinary. He wasn't a man who would attract attention at a ball, and he knew it.
Furthermore, his title of Markhal was losing its prestige among the nobility. Among aristocratic circles that increasingly prioritized status and luxury, an inherited title like his was more often looked down upon than respected.
"So, will you be attending at least one of those balls?"
"Haha, of course not," Eudoria replied without a hint of hesitation. In fact, at the same time, she was burning one of the invitation envelopes with a nearby candle.
"Again?" Alexion took a deep breath.
This wasn't the first time Eudoria had decided not to attend a ball in this season. Although because of that Alexion felt a little relieved.
He couldn't imagine how the aristocrats would react if Eudoria actually showed up—with her striking beauty, she would immediately become the center of attention. And with her striking beauty, it wouldn't be surprising if the noblewomen would grow jealous—and then make Eudoria the target of gossip or subtle sarcasm disguised in a fake smile.
But on the other hand, Alexion couldn't shake the worry he felt about the rumors that circulating around the nobility—that he was an overprotective husband, forbidding his wife from attending any parties. The rumors grew increasingly absurd; some even claimed that Alexion would abuse Eudoria if she were caught attending even one.
"Of course, I never feel comfortable at such events," Eudoria said, pausing for a moment before continuing, "besides, I have my reasons."
She didn't elaborate what exactly she mean, but that actually was unnecessary. Alexion knew exactly what his wife was referring to—the same reason she had always had: Eudoria didn't want to be too far from her daughter's side while she lay in a coma.
As soon as Eudoria brought up the topic, Alexion's expression changed. Fine lines appeared on his forehead, and Eudoria could see the his displeased expression—a reaction she was all too familiar with, and one she saw more and more often whenever their daughter was mentioned.
Eudoria herself had been aware of Alexion's negative views of her own daughter since her first birth.
Initially, she found her husband's sentiments regrettable. Just because a child looked different from most didn't mean she deserved to be viewed with fear or suspicion, especially from her own father.
However, on the other hand, Eudoria also tried to understand. Because in reality, what made society so fearful and so fond of questioning "cursed children" wasn't just their physical appearance—it was the curse that accompanied them.
The curse affected not only the child, but also the mother: a woman who gave birth to a cursed child would never be able to conceive again, no matter how hard she tried. And Eudoria... was living proof of that curse.
That's why, despite her heartache, she could understand what Alexion's concern. Their daughter was the only direct descendant of the del Korynth family—and she, as a mother, could no longer provide another heir.
It's true that cursed children are still treated fairly well in the kingdom of Palenthein compared to other countries, but there's still no record of a cursed person becoming a noble here, or even anywhere else in the world.
And for Alexion, the fact that the child was also born a girl… was a double blow to their family line.
In fact, Eudoria herself once suggested the most painful thing for her as a wife: that Alexion another woman, in the hope that another woman might give him a male heir.
However, Alexion flatly rejected the suggestion. In a firm tone, he stated that he would never marry another woman without love—and more importantly, that he didn't want to hurt Eudoria's feelings.
It was a stance that seemed at odds with their current reality, but it was precisely that which moved Eudoria so deeply. Amidst all the pressure of aristocrat blood, family name, and public expectations, her husband still chose to respect her as his wife—not simply as a means of producing an heir.
From that moment on, Eudoria stopped trying to change Alexion's negative views of their daughter. She knew that feelings couldn't be forced. For Eudoria, it was enough that her husband still respected her decision to care for her daughter in this manor.
And in her heart, Eudoria continued to hope—that with time, Alexion's wounds and fears would gradually subside... and that a father's love would slowly begin to grow, however slowly, for the little girl who should never have had to bear any curse.
"How is she doing now?"
What brought Eudoria a small sense of relief—and quiet joy—was the fact that lately, Alexion had begun to ask more often about their daughter's condition. Although he had yet to fully accept her existence, to Eudoria, this was a meaningful first step.
"I'm glad Your Majesty asked!" she said enthusiastically. "Your personal physician said that the mysterious illness in Seraphelle's body has gradually begun to fade—even he admitted he doesn't fully understand why."
"So, in short... her condition is improving?"
"That's right!" Her face lit up with hope.
"Thank goodness, if that's true."
But not long after, the brightness on Eudoria's face began to fade. "However... even so, the doctor also said he still doesn't know when Seraphelle will wake up."
It had been at least seven years since their daughter had lain motionless in her bed. So, it was only natural for a mother who loved her child to feel sorrow when her beloved remained trapped in such a long coma.
"Your Majesty?"
Unable to bear the sorrowful expression on his wife's face any longer, Alexion abruptly rose from his seat—his sudden movement causing Aeson, who had been standing nearby, to look momentarily startled and confused.
Without hesitation, Alexion strode quickly toward the sofa where Eudoria was seated, and gently pulled her into a firm, warm embrace—as if trying to transfer all his strength into that single gesture.
"I believe everything will be alright."
The warm touch on her waist made Eudoria flinch slightly—not out of surprise, but because of how easily her body responded to it. Alexion's fingers moved gently, with a calmness that seemed to speak volumes—conveying things that words could never express. That feeling spread slowly through her body, like warm wind piercing through the heart of winter.
The embrace wasn't tight, nor possessive, but strong enough to make her feel… protected. She felt that her husband's chest was a place that felt more comfortable than anything else in the world. In that embrace, the world seemed to shrink for her.
All she could hear was the calm rhythm of his heartbeat in her ear.
For a moment, Eudoria wanted to stay like this.
She didn't even realize that her eyes had slowly begun to close. Not fully asleep, yet not fully awake either. She felt as though she was sinking—somewhere between relief and sorrow. Between the pain she kept hidden and the warmth of the man who had once made her cry… yet always appeared just as she was about to fall apart.
There was so much she wanted to say. About her worries. About their daughter. About the uncertainty surrounding the future of House del Korynth. But the words refused to come out.
"Um...."
Aeson now stood in the corner of the room, his expression a mixture of confusion, awkwardness, and a strong desire to disappear from the scene entirely. His eyes darted to the right, then to the left, then up at the ceiling, as if hoping for a dimensional rift to open up and swallow him whole.
"Maybe I'll visit her this week once I've finished my work."
The moment Eudoria heard that, she quickly pulled herself away from her husband's embrace and exclaimed with enthusiasm, "Really!?"
"Of course."
"That would be wonderful!" she said. "After all, you haven't visited her in quite a while, have you?"
"Haha, you're right…"
Hearing that, Alexion could only offer his wife a wry smile while scratching at the wig fastened to his head.
It had been more than three years since he last visited his own daughter. Many assumed it was because he totally no longer care to his own daughter.
But the truth was far more complicated.
It wasn't that Alexion didn't care. Quite the opposite. He buried himself in work—not to escape, but because he had no other choice. The kingdom's economy was crumbling, people were starving, trade had nearly collapsed, taxes were burdensome, and banditry was on the rise.
And as the head of House del Korynth, he couldn't afford to be just a husband and a father.
He had to be a shield for the thousands of people living in his domain.
So, while his daughter lay asleep within the castle, Alexion spent his days drafting policies, fighting inflation, and searching for any loophole to keep his lands from collapsing along with the rest of the kingdom.
"By the way," Alexion said, slowly releasing his embrace from Eudoria. His expression shifted—from warm to inquisitive—as he glanced toward the door leading to the hallway.
For the past several minutes, they heard hurried footsteps outside the room. The sound of people running back and forth along the corridor.
At first, they had ignored it. Though the manor wasn't particularly large, such busy noises were common. Servants, guards, and even Alexion's personal maids often came and went carrying out their respective tasks.
"Doesn't it sound unusually loud out there?"
"Now that you mention it, it does," Eudoria agreed.
Strangely, the noise outside was growing louder and more frantic than anything they'd heard before.
"Aeson, are you preparing for some sort of event?" Alexion asked his assistant, wanting to make sure he hadn't forgotten something.
"Um, as far as I remember, there's nothing scheduled, Your Majesty."
"Hmm. So I haven't forgotten anything."
Still, a gut feeling told Alexion something was wrong. He considered ordering Aeson to go check—but before he could even open his mouth, a sudden sound from outside froze him in place.
"What in the hell is going on!?" Alexion's voice erupted instinctively, echoing through the room. His outburst was so sudden that both Eudoria and Aeson jumped in surprise. Before either of them could ask what was wrong, Alexion was already moving. His feet carried him swiftly to the door, which he flung open with a sharp motion.
And he had good reason.
As a graduate of the military academy and the son of a militarist noble, Alexion had been trained to read a situation through sound alone. And the sound he had just heard was too familiar to ignore.
It was the distinctive, rapid stomp of boots—specifically those of his personal grenadiers. Elite soldiers who would never move that hastily unless there was an emergency.
And sure enough—his fears were not unfounded.
As the door swung open, Alexion was met with the sight of seven grenadiers in full uniform, muskets in their hands, hurrying down the main corridor. Their movements were rushed, almost disorganized, as if heading toward something urgent. Yet their direction was odd—they weren't heading to the command room or the manor's barracks… but to a part of the manor even Alexion himself didn't fully understand.
At the sight of such chaos, anger flared within him.
Without a second thought, he stepped into the hallway and bellowed, his voice ringing through the stone corridor:
"What is the meaning of this!? Why have you abandoned your posts!?"
The soldiers were visibly startled upon seeing Alexion step out and intercept them so suddenly.
The situation only grew more chaotic as the seven grenadiers looked around at one another in confusion, like fools who had no idea what was happening.
"Damn it," Alexion muttered, frustrated by the clear decline in the quality of his once-elite grenadiers.
Then, with a voice that cracked through the air like a whip, he roared:
"Grenadiers!"
His commanding tone struck the air with military authority that could not be disobeyed. Instantly, the previously disoriented bodies snapped back into discipline. Right feet struck the floor, backs straightened, chins lifted. A formation was instinctively reassembled—the only remnant left from their once-rigorous training.