As the sun set, Lorenia finished packing her belongings after their walk.

Ian, who had sent Lorenia off with a smile when she left to wash up first, sat on the edge of the bed and inspected something he had grabbed earlier while opening the door. It was a ring adorned with a familiar golden insignia. The ring, which had fallen as the door opened, was excessively luxurious.

“This isn’t the Aztyne family’s crest,” he murmured, turning the ring over in his hand and holding it up to the light. Two eagles stood back-to-back with a shield between them, each spreading one wing.

“…Praiteritum.”

It was the same insignia as the one on the altar of that mysterious group still shrouded in questions.

Aztyne and Praiteritum. Tesseth’s voice, declaring he would never let them go, echoed in his ears.

Ian clenched his teeth. Though he believed they were long gone, the thought of them lurking somewhere, ever watchful, made him sigh. He hadn’t noticed them before, but once his attention was drawn to them, the symbols occasionally appearing around Lorenia became an irritant, like a splinter in his mind.

Were they just beginning to act again, or had he simply been oblivious before? He couldn’t be sure, but one thing was clear—they had been observing Lorenia for quite some time.

Surely the Aztyne Viscount knew this, too. That must have been why he chose this estate.

Ian’s gaze shifted to the window before he stood and descended to the first floor. He approached a door that had caught his eye the moment he entered the estate. Tilting his head, he carefully inspected the door, his eyes moving up and down.

His hand traced the door’s surface.

It was an unassuming door, completely ordinary. Yet, when he grasped the handle, a strange sensation brushed against his palm. He turned on the light to examine it, and there it was—the same insignia etched into the wood as the one on the ring. Ian’s eyes narrowed.

A door with an unsettling air and the crest embedded in its surface—it couldn’t just be a coincidence. And…

“An unopenable door.”

No matter how hard he tried, the door wouldn’t budge. Ian recalled the Aztyne Viscount’s words when he had approached him late one night under the cover of darkness.

—”That door is a remnant of my past mistakes. It cannot be forced open, nor can it be broken. But Grand Duke Verdian, perhaps you may be able to influence it. Could you take a look for me?”

When asked why he was so fixated on the door, the Viscount had given a bitter smile.

—”To ensure my mistakes are not repeated. Leaning on something can be a positive force in life, but blind reliance is dangerous. I must close that door.”

In the dim light, the old man’s face had seemed even more somber. Unable to ask further questions, Ian had only nodded silently.

Now, facing the peculiar phenomenon of a door that refused to open, Ian debated applying more force when he sensed someone behind him.

“Lorenia.”

He turned to find the dark-haired woman blinking at him. Her damp hair and cheeks flushed pink with warmth gave her a radiant, lively appearance.

Meeting his beloved’s gaze, Ian smiled softly. He approached her and placed a light kiss on her lips before speaking quietly.

“You’ve washed up?”

“Yes. But what are you doing here, Ian?”

“Me?”

Caught off guard by Lorenia’s eyes glancing past him at the door, Ian managed an awkward smile. The facade of charm that worked so well with others faltered when he faced her.

Seeing the faint crease in her brow, Ian quickly patted her shoulder.

“You’re tired, aren’t you? Let’s head upstairs. I’ll give you a massage.”

She hesitated, her lips parting as if to question him further, but at the mention of a massage, her eyes softened. After a moment, she nodded, letting the subject drop. Relieved, Ian exhaled and guided her up the stairs.

---

The massage turned out to be part of Ian’s sly plan. His touch, skilled and soothing, left her body languid and relaxed. Yet, as always, his hands moved with a cunning purpose, betraying his playful intentions.

“Ian.”

“Yes?”

His hand, which had been moving downward, suddenly slid back up. Lorenia narrowed her eyes and glanced at him.

“Your hand is acting strange.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your hand. It’s…too free. Rubbing around everywhere.”

“You’re imagining things.”

Imagining? Hardly. She had definitely felt his hand grazing sensitive spots. Biting her lip, she frowned.

Ian, his expression seemingly innocent, spread his hands as if to say, “See? Nothing suspicious.”

“Really…?”

“It’s true.”

His voice was insistent, almost wounded, as he claimed innocence again. Lorenia sighed, turning away once more. But a low chuckle followed, carrying a mischievous undertone. She had been tricked—hadn’t she?

But despite everything, Ian’s massage skills were truly unmatched. When he pressed and kneaded her tense shoulders, back, thighs, and calves, a dreamy haze would inevitably take over.

Feeling so relaxed, any lingering doubts melted away. Resting her head on her arm and smiling, she found herself not wanting his hands to leave—his touch was that sweet.

“Laurencia.”

“Yes?”

Even in her drowsy state, Ian’s voice reached her. She softly answered, and he, seemingly amused, spoke again in his usual languid tone.

“How many children do you think we’ll have?”

“Hmm… one or two would be nice, don’t you think?”

“A son? Or a daughter?”

“One of each?”

“That sounds good. But I’d like a son to take after you.”

“A son, not a daughter? Why?”

Ian chuckled lightly.

“Well, a daughter who takes after you would be adorable, but I think she’d lack sweetness. A daughter without sweetness might make life a little dull.”

Hmm… That’s true. If she takes after me, she probably wouldn’t be very affectionate.

Though she inwardly agreed, acknowledging it aloud was a different matter. Turning her head slightly to look at him, she saw Ian smiling mischievously. This man…

“Then what if a daughter takes after you?”

“Well…”

“She’d be tall and dashing, right?”

“Probably.”

“And then she’d pick up a sword early, train to become a knight, and leave us. Each time she came back, she’d be covered in scars, and her face might even bear marks. Plus, from spending time with fellow knights, she might bring home a man she wants to marry before she’s even grown.”

His hands paused.

Looking up at Ian’s slightly dazed face, she smirked. “How does that sound?”

“…That doesn’t sound very appealing. And a daughter who takes after me? I don’t even want to imagine it.”

“Why not? I think it’d be great.”

As she chuckled, Ian furrowed his brow slightly. Lately, teasing each other had become an unexpected source of fun. It seemed Ian also enjoyed poking fun at her whenever he could.

They say couples grow alike. But why is it only these traits we seem to share? If we have children, won’t they pick up on this too?

Ian’s hands, which had been massaging her shoulders, gently moved up, tilting her chin. Meeting his gaze, she saw him leaning in, his breath brushing against her ear. The sound of saliva seemed louder than it should have been.

“You’d really like a daughter like me?”

“Well, I mean, it’s just a thought—”

“Really?”

Ian’s hand lightly gripped her chin and lowered it. Her lips parted, and naturally, his lips met hers. Warm, soft lips and a smooth tongue intertwined. When he bit down gently, a sharp tingle coursed through her, sharpening her senses.

His hand, which had been on her chin, slowly traveled down, gliding over her shoulder and brushing against her arm before tracing back up to tug at the strap of her slip.

Though it was a small strap, the moment it slid down, it felt as if a heavy weight had fallen away.

Ian’s weight shifted as he skillfully turned her over. His weight bore down on her again—not overwhelmingly, but just enough. She liked that balance.

His hands tightened around her, leaving no room for escape.

Reaching out, she grasped his back and neck as Ian’s hand slid lower, trailing from her neck over her shoulder and down toward more sensitive places. This man knew exactly where to touch to make her react.

With one hand, he brushed her cheek, his lips curving into a sly smile.

“That thing earlier… when you said it was a misunderstanding, you were lying, weren’t you?”

As their lips parted, she quietly questioned him. Ian’s eyes gleamed knowingly. See? I knew it.

“This is why you offered to give me a massage, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

At least he’s honest now. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him. Ian chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek before his voice spilled out again.