Rustle.

Ihan sat in the wooden pavilion he had built, reading a newspaper. Occasionally, he sipped lemonade made by Leyra, or—

"Here, have this."
"...I can eat it myself."
"Really?"
"…Fine, I'll eat it."

Unable to resist her innocent and pure gaze, he accepted the lemon tart from her. It was the first time in his life he had the luxury of being served food by a woman. He wondered if it was even okay for him to enjoy such a blessed moment.

Still—

...It’s delicious.

Was it just his imagination, or did this tart somehow taste better than any other he’d ever eaten?

"Would you like some more?"
"…Yes."

It was a temptation too difficult to refuse. Ihan found himself accepting the tart again, indulging in a luxury he never expected to have.

Even as he did, his eyes remained fixed on the newspaper.

…Things are getting interesting.

Unintentionally, Ihan had become one of the few people closely involved in the events unfolding within the kingdom. Thus, he was familiar with the causes behind most of the kingdom’s chaos and controversies.

To give a specific example—

Rustle.

"…That brat Goldie takes good pictures."

[Today, it was revealed that Aran Pendragon, Commander of the First Knight Division, personally moved to capture escapees from the underground tunnels, mobilizing both the First and Second Divisions under his authority. This honorable and noble act, befitting royalty, is being widely praised. Meanwhile, the aristocratic council faces public outrage after their absurd claim that this action constitutes an 'abuse of power.' Capitalizing on the situation, the guild council has expressed its discontent with the aristocrats…]

The entirety of the newspaper’s front page was dominated by a photograph of the Golden Prince. His decision to mobilize the First and Second Knight Divisions as a commander had indeed drawn significant attention.

"Well, let’s see if he does a good job."

Honestly, Ihan wasn’t convinced. His philosophy was that once a troublemaker, always a troublemaker. After all, anyone could talk a good game; what mattered were actions and results.

In that sense—

If he delivers results, I’ll reduce his scolding from twice to once.

He stopped himself at a mild level of expectation.

Rustle.

As he turned the pages of the newspaper, more news of people he was acquainted with or situations he was aware of emerged.

To summarize the notable ones:

"The owner of the salon leading the latest trend in the capital is the young master of Lionel?!"
"Has the Mercenary King chosen his successor?"
"The Guinevere family’s young lady is rumored to be in a relationship?!"

Somehow, they were all people he knew.

And then—

[Speculations abound that the imperial mage tower’s successor and the Sultan’s visit are to meet Galahad’s foster daughter. Meanwhile, the whereabouts of the person at the center of attention remain unknown, and the royal family and Galahad are under scrutiny for their response. Incidentally, Galahad’s foster daughter, Irene Windler, despite her youth, is being hailed as the holy prodigy of the magical world, representing this era.]

…And here was the so-called holy prodigy of the magical world, sitting beside him and muttering to herself while nibbling on a tart.

"Tch, I could feed him too. I’d do a great job, an amazing job…."
"……."

Hmm. Were all these bigwigs gathering just to meet that chick?

Ssshh!

Don’t these people have anything better to do?

To Ihan, the successors of the mage tower and the Sultan seemed more like idle rich kids with nothing to do.

How utterly pathetic.

 

Was it just bad timing, or perhaps the result of leaving the house unoccupied for so long?

Clatter.

"Master!"

Judging by the series of familiar faces showing up one after another, Ihan could tell his home was becoming noisier by the moment.

Ring, ring!

A young woman on a bicycle, reminiscent of something out of a classic French film with its antique charm, called out to him energetically.

She was refreshingly beautiful, yet there was a hint of melancholy about her. Her pure aura made her the kind of person who’d catch anyone’s eye on the street, exuding an endearing charm.

She looked like the picture-perfect embodiment of a first love from one’s school days, complete with a straw hat, a white dress, sandals, and a picnic basket. She could easily be mistaken for a scene out of a magazine spread.

"…Am I watching a photoshoot or something?"

Even the chick next to him muttered under her breath, apparently thinking the same thing. With her hydrangea-blue hair fluttering as she rode the bicycle, she looked like she had stepped out of a movie. Still—

Does she have any intention of hiding her identity or not?

Watching her, Ihan couldn’t help but wonder if she cared less about hiding her true self than Taechang did.

Or maybe she was just clumsy and straightforward, perhaps even foolishly honest.

…Maybe all three?

As Ihan shrugged his shoulders, the young woman parked her bicycle and ran toward him with the enthusiasm of a loyal puppy greeting its master after a long absence.

"Huff, huff! Have you been well, Master?"
"First, catch your breath, Gomsuni."
"Huh? Oh, I’m fine, really. Huff, huff!"
"…You don’t look fine at all, though."

It seemed that Gomsuni—or rather, Levi—had pedaled all the way from the marquis’ estate to his home upon hearing that he’d returned.

"In that outfit, did you really ride your bike here?"

It must have been an exhausting trip.

Swallowing his words, Ihan showed concern, and she—

"Ah!"

She suddenly realized the state she was in and covered her mouth in embarrassment.

"I-I’m sorry, I must look terrible! I-I just wanted to do something with my time since His Grace gave me the day off. I was planning to go on a picnic alone, but staying still felt strange…."
"Is that so?"
"I-I didn’t even pick this outfit! The maids chose it for me, and I couldn’t refuse…."
"I see."
"…Master?"
"I see."
"??"
"…Sorry, it’s my age. Must be menopause or something…."

Was he becoming more sentimental with age?

Hearing his disciple’s chatter, Ihan felt a strange swelling of emotion.

From the moment they first met, Levi had always been timid, anxious, and desperate to be recognized.

But now—

She’s grown more confident.

Her face radiated vitality. Her gaze was sharp, and even her attire was neat.

 

Even her polished appearance was proof of the care she was receiving, likely a sign that the marquis was keeping his promises.

And so, Ihan felt an inexplicable warmth in his chest.

It was akin to witnessing a swan, once unaware of its own wings, discover that it could flap them and take flight. For someone who had helped that swan realize its potential, the sense of pride was inevitable.

It feels like all the hard work paid off.

…He was overwhelmed with emotion.

Ihan felt a deep joy as he observed the positive changes in his disciple.

Despite the awkwardness caused by Ihan’s emotional response, Levi continued to chatter like a lark, recounting all that had happened in his absence.

It almost sounded like she was bragging.

"Recently, His Grace started teaching me archery. Even though it’s mostly symbolic, I’ve officially received the name of Tristan. So, I’ve been working hard to master the basics of archery."
"I’m really thankful to have received Tristan’s name, but it hasn’t been formally bestowed yet. I think it’ll happen in an official ceremony within a few days… Master, could you be my partner for the event?"
"Oh! Also, please try this panini. I made it myself!"

Ihan listened attentively to everything Levi had to say.

He offered advice where he could, refused where he couldn’t, and expressed gratitude for her thoughtfulness.

"And another thing…!"

Levi had so much to share that she showed no signs of stopping even after an hour. Ihan didn’t mind, though.

In fact, seeing her so free and joyful was far more gratifying than anything else. It felt like how one might feel while watching a much-younger sibling grow and thrive.

As he continued listening to Levi’s stories—

"Um, excuse me, Levi…"
"Hm? Lady Irene? When did you get here?"
"…So, you didn’t even notice me. Honestly, they say late learners are the worst thieves!"
"I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you, Lady Irene. It just… happened somehow…."
"…Forget it. I understand. You’re at that age where everything feels exciting."
"……."

The chick with a grumpy expression pecked at the innocent Levi, who could only bow her head apologetically.

What was this?

Why are they arguing like this in front of me?

Shouldn’t they be having these spats around someone handsome instead of an old guy like me?

Ihan wasn’t naive. He understood perfectly well that the two girls harbored a mixture of admiration and affection for him.

But to Ihan, those feelings seemed more like fleeting infatuations, akin to playing with fire.

Such youthful impulses would eventually fade as the girls matured. They’d probably look back and wonder why they ever had a crush on an older man like him, cringing at the thought.

Sigh. Thinking about this makes me feel a little bitter.

Still, Ihan didn’t let himself dwell on the thought too long. His outlook on life was too jaded to believe that anyone’s admiration or affection could last forever.

 

"—I think a truly great man remains admired no matter how much time passes. In that sense, I think those girls have a good eye for recognizing someone great."
"……."
"Hehe, just saying."
"Wait… Have you been reading my mind?"
"No, it’s just easy to read your expressions!"
"…Who taught you to say things like that?"

Between the princesses and the maids, everyone around him seemed to possess a knack for unnervingly sharp observations.

Ihan let out a dry laugh.

"Do you think my thoughts are too shallow?"

Since his thoughts had been exposed anyway, he decided to ask directly.

Leira responded without hesitation:

"Hm, not shallow, exactly. But I think you’re underestimating yourself. You’re already amazing, you know."
"……."
"I hope that someday, you’ll love yourself even more than you do now. Because you’re someone who deserves to feel proud of yourself."
"…You always rate me too highly."
"I’m just being honest."
"……."
"Hehe, you’re blushing!"
"…Just bring me another drink."
"Okay!"

As Ihan met her radiant smile, he bowed his head slightly.

For some reason, a thought crossed his mind.

No matter how strong I become, I’ll never be able to beat this person….

He instinctively felt that he could never win against someone who radiated such pure affection and goodwill.

…And yet—

Even if I lose, it doesn’t feel so bad.

If anything, he might even want to lose. Did that make him strange?

The man quietly resolved that, at least in front of her, he wouldn’t be an embarrassing version of himself.

"—I feel like we picked a bad time to visit."
"Yeah… I’m starting to think so too."

The black-haired young man scratched his head awkwardly.

He’d come to pay his respects, but it seemed—

…I must have misread the room.

The regressor stood hesitantly outside the gate, and it wasn’t long before a knight, who had already noticed his presence, came to escort him inside.