“Your Highness.”

“Master.”

As the maids who had been dressing us bowed respectfully in greeting, Father strode forward.

Eciel called out joyfully.

“Dad!”

“Eciel, Claire. Both of you are very beautiful.”

‘When Dad says such things with his expression…’

It was a talent to hold one’s gaze so captivatingly without any hint of tenderness or warmth.

A chilling sensation that made one’s spine tingle, yet one couldn’t look away—a kind of eerie and mysterious fascination.

Like a powerful entity slumbering beneath a millennium year old glacier, a ruthless watcher awaiting the moment of divine retribution from far above the clouds.

It felt like seeing something unknown.

Father smoothed back his silver hair meticulously, wore black leather gloves on his hand adorned only with a wedding ring, and donned a neatly tailored angular outfit.

Though he appeared very much like an extremely human nobleman, there was an inhuman aspect to him.

Nevertheless, Eciel smiled widely and reached out her hand to this unearthly presence.

As they clasped hands and laughed, the man once again seemed like an ordinary father.

“I arrived a little early.”

He casually glanced at the shoes the maids still held and smoothly took them from their hands.

They were black shoes.

How did he know? He spoke kindly upon seeing me.

“Your shoes, Claire?”

I nodded, and without hesitation, he kneeled and gently placed the shoe on my foot.

Paying no mind to his creased trousers.

Was this the leisure of a great nobleman or the affection of a father loving his daughter?

Eciel said as she waited for her turn.

“Dad, does Mom really have to wear that?”

“Yes. Why?”

“It looks too heavy.”

Dad glanced back at the ceremonial attire with a thoughtful expression, then chuckled to himself.

“It’s probably not as bad as you think. Charlotte managed to run in that attire.”

…She could run in that? No, had I ever seen anyone run in that?

I was not sure which was more astonishing.

Dad, noticing my innocent look, grinned mischievously.

“Curious?”

“… surely she didn’t run with all that—shoes, tiara, necklace, and all?”

After debating between embarrassment and curiosity, curiosity ultimately won out.

Eciel also looked at Dad with curious eyes.

He casually answered, having finished putting my shoes on and took Eciel’s ivory ones.

“Both of you know this is the formal attire of an imperial woman, right?”

We nodded.

Dad’s long, graceful fingers gently supported the child’s small foot and slipped it into the elegant shoe.

His voice was calm and leisurely, as if discussing a matter of fact.

“It’s not worn at every official event, but it’s required for the Emperor’s coronation, funerals, one’s own wedding ceremony, and the New Year’s festivities.”

… suddenly, I felt like I had seen Mom running in that.

Unlike my subtle face, Eciel blinked innocently and asked.

“Then, did you marry Mom while she was wearing that?”

Dad, while supporting Ecel’s right foot and putting on the remaining pair of shoes, chuckled and shook his head.

“No.”

Huh? I thought he was going to say Mom ran away wearing that attire because she didn’t want to get married?

I looked at Father in confusion.

Having finished putting on Eciel’s shoes, Dad turned his attention back to me.

“Charlotte said she wouldn’t marry in that attire, being the daughter of a rebel and not the Emperor. She burned the attire kept in the palace the day before the wedding.”

My mouth fell open. That was the craziest thing I’d ever heard Mom did during her wedding.

His soft, languid voice continued unwaveringly.

“So, Charlotte’s father was so angry that he threatened not to give her any clothing.”

Dad’s purple eyes suddenly met Eciel’s green ones.

His eyes curved dreamily, like in a dream.

“Charlotte really didn’t accept any clothing from him. She came to the wedding wearing a magician’s robe over her undergarments.”

A satisfying reminiscence of someone who meticulously remembered events from nearly 15 years ago without missing a moment.

It was as if he carefully treasured the moment he fell in love again, much like a precious craft, and then, much later, he unfolded it gently to their daughters with a calm and kind voice.

That tender affection bubbled up under my neck, spreading a gentle warmth from the bottom of my heart.

Suddenly, my dad glanced at me.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Claire, you asked first. When Charlotte ran in that race, she didn’t even have any jewelry or proper shoes.”

“… when did Mom do that?”

After helping with the shoes and kneeling down to talk to the daughters, Dad stood up gently.

Then he took one of our hands each and walked out of the dressing room, answering belatedly,

“It’s on His Majesty the Emperor’s coronation ceremony.”

… ah, I realized then.

“Mom must have run away from Dad wearing those clothes.’

Perhaps it was to evade pursuit, because even Dad couldn’t stamp the palace attire with his <possession> power.

Shoes, tiara, necklace, earrings.

She wore only the heavy dress of the palace, leaving behind all other imperial possessions, and running away.

And the man who watched her.

Unable to voice my thoughts, I remained silent, and Father smiled slightly.

“Anyway, don’t worry about the weight of the dress. I’ll hold om firmly.”

Was it escorting or restraining?

Supporting, or ensuring she couldn’t escape?

‘… but more importantly, did Dad really not stamp this attire?’

I hesitated to voice the question that lingered on my mind.

Some questions were unnecessary when one knew the answer, while others were too risky to ask.

The thought occurred to me applied to both.

 

* * *

 

In conclusion, Mom looked truly stunning in that attire.

Though Dad firmly supported her, she not only was able to control her body under the heavy dress and jewelry but also looked elegant.

When Mom descended from the carriage without a single wrinkle, Eciel and I marveled.

Mom looked at us with a puzzled expression.

“Why?”

“Mom… how are you able to walk in that?”

Mom answered casually, as if it were nothing.

“I’ve been practicing since I was young. Wearing, walking, moving, and taking off until I became proficient.”

I was fortunate not to have been born into the imperial family…

Eciel and I probably had the same thought at that moment.

Not to mention Eciel, who was still struggling with the etiquette required of a duke’s daughter, even I, who managed to follow somewhat, felt a twinge of envy.

Dad, chuckling at our expressions, gently bowed with Mom, laughter twinkling in his eyes.

A sweet and gentle question was asked.

“Shall we go now?”

Eciel held my hand first. I clasped her hand tightly and closed my eyes.

And I nodded.

As a sign of readiness.

However, instead of walking straight ahead, Mom and Dad leaned even closer towards us.

Mom’s hand, wearing lace gloves, gently brushed my shoulder, while Dad’s hand, in leather gloves, caressed Eciel’s cheek.

They approached us softly and tenderly.

Like the wind sweeping seeds of wildflowers, like autumn leaves floating on the stream, like winter sparrows hopping across the snow.

Carefully, slowly, peacefully.

When I looked closely, the green eyes before me curved into a slow smile.

“We’ll be watching. It’s okay even if you forget everything you’ve learned so far. Remember this, okay?”

Although she knew clearly that the girl in front of her wasn’t just any nine-year-old, but an Astariol…

Mom’s green irises shone with dazzling affection and tenderness.

Even on the day we were driven out of town, even after hearing countless nannies telling her to abandon a difficult child.

As clear as the first time I met Mom’s eyes when I was born.

“… yes, Mom.”

Hearing my slightly trembling voice, Mom smiled briefly and said regretfully.

“I can’t hold you tight since you’re all dressed up.”

I hesitated slightly, then placed my hand over Mom’s hand that was still resting on my cheek.

Through the thin gloves, warmth and softness transferred.

I awkwardly tried to reciprocate.

The thin, square lace rustled.

And Mom’s voice flowed like sunset.

“My daughter.”

Despite being draped in dignity, formality, and elegance, Mom didn’t just carry herself but also loved me just as I was.

A serene emotion as natural as the rising and setting sun.

As unforgettable as the wonder felt at the first light of dawn, as lingering as the many colors of a sunset.

Lastly, Mom gently held my younger sister’s hand too and then rose.

Dad skillfully supported Mom’s arm to share the weight.

Leaning on his hand briefly to tidy her clothes, Mom resumed walking forward.

A relaxed figure with no apparent tension. Transcending psychological pressure and physical weight.

Eciel and I followed quietly behind, marveling at Mom’s dress swaying remarkably smoothly.

Before we knew it, a large door was right in front of us.