After briefly chatting with Rella, Tatiana suddenly wrapped the bird in her clothes.

  "Why is that?" I asked as she whispered softly.

  "Rella's feather color is showing."

  Ah, the powder must have rubbed off.

  Perhaps someone's curiosity had caught them unawares again.

  Was Rella trying to show off more?

  The bird struggled to flap its wings to get free.

  "Peep-peep!"

  Holding Rella tightly, Tatiana started walking briskly, brushing past people. She seemed anxious.

  I followed her, chuckling softly. Although I knew she was worried, Rella’s orange feathers were well hidden inside. It was unlikely that anyone would have noticed just from a glimpse.

  Her hurried steps made her beautiful hair sway like waves, a testament to her urgency.

  'She's beautiful.'

  From the top of her head to her toes, even down to every fluff of her hair.

  Having such a lovely wife makes me think I must have saved a dozen countries in my past life.

  Well, considering my face, maybe eleven and a half.

  With these thoughts, we reached our lodging to find a man standing tall. I had never spoken to him or greeted him, but his face was familiar.

  He had been staying in the building opposite our previous lodging.

  "..."

  At first, I thought he might be someone who bore a grudge against my mother.

  Or perhaps he was just deranged.

  Because, whenever I was behind the inn washing up or doing exercises, he would watch. He even followed me to and from the guild occasionally.

  I had thought he might be an assassin, but I quickly dismissed the idea since he didn't seem accustomed to combat or murder.

  If he had been in such a profession, he would have failed long ago.

  Over time, I noticed others in the city watching me too. I realized they knew each other as they would nod or take over the tailing duties from one another.

  But none of them seemed to harbor any hatred towards me nor did they appear to want to confront me.

  It felt eerie, like seeing something that doesn't manifest into anything tangible. If it weren't for my mother's teachings, I might have eliminated them.

  Stalkers are bad news.

  They make me feel uneasy, and I don't want to be anywhere near them.

  Seeing I was standing still, Tatiana tilted her head inquisitively.

  Looking at the stalker man in front of our lodging, she asked me, "What's that man doing?"

  "..."

  I wondered too.

  We had never interacted before, so why was he suddenly standing in front of our lodging?

  Moreover, the man stood with his hands clasped over his chest, tears streaming down his face.

  I really didn't understand why.

  There was a large box next to him, ominously the right size for a body, which added to the creepiness.

  "Haah."

  Despite possessing the strength to overpower most of the world, I was somewhat clumsy with fear.

  It's fine to see a corpse, but I hate it when a "surprise" corpse jumps out of a box shouting, "Gotcha!"

  It’s not so much fear as it is the shock; that sudden jolt that makes my heart skip.

  But why, of all things, does this stalker man have a body-sized box standing in front of our lodging?

  It smelled like trouble.

  I sighed, about ten times over.

  Then, the man noticed us.

  Whirling around, he looked at me, his tears falling in streams.

  "Young Master! At last, I can address you, Young Master."

  "..."

  What an odd thing to say.

  For a moment, I thought he was an actor from a traveling theater troupe.

  But now I realized—he must be from the Ducal house.

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  Somehow, the man's expression reminded me of my grandfather.

  'So that was it.'

  Were those strange men who followed me around the city also from the Ducal house?

  Really, everything about this was annoying.

  If I had known sooner, I wouldn't have bothered about it at all, but now I felt somewhat cheated.

  Fortunately, there were no passersby in the alley.

  No one else heard the man's words.

  Even the innkeeper had stepped out due to a purchase, leaving the area quiet.

  A few men stood at a distance, likely the ones who had been following me, presumed agents of the Duke.

  I approached the man who was still tearful.

  Tatiana followed by my side, her head tilted, confused by the mention of "Young Master."

  She must find it strange, considering my father was kidnapped by my mother, why would someone from the Ducal house joyously refer to me as such.

  Indeed, we couldn't discuss anything in this alley.

  It wasn't a conversation meant for others to hear.

  Grandfather had even insisted on keeping our meeting a secret.

  But why had they suddenly made contact? It felt like nothing but an inconvenient omen.

  "Let's go inside," I suggested.

  "Yes, yes, of course. This old man was so overjoyed... I apologize for my rudeness."

  The man bowed deeply.

  His overly emotional display seemed sincere, but his manners and demeanor carried a certain gravitas.

  "I'll carry that box," I offered, reaching out.

  The man hurriedly shook his head.

  "It wouldn’t be proper for me to allow you to carry anything while I'm here."

  At his glance, two young men who had been standing far off hurried over.

  The box seemed quite heavy.

  Though the two men took it up, they struggled up the stairs with it, nearly dropping it several times.

  "It's a gift from the Duke to the Young Master. It must not be dropped."

  It wasn’t a body box after all, but a gift.

  The middle-aged man chided them, though it was clear they were not used to physical labor.

  I was almost anxious they'd tumble down the stairs with the box.

  'I should have carried it myself.'

  Then these men would have been spared the back-and-forth struggle to get the box into the room.

  All this talk of 'Young Master' didn’t sit right with me; I wasn't raised with that kind of status.

  It's only troublesome now that such phrases are being thrown around.

  Tatiana seemed to think the same.

  She frowned for a moment then whispered softly, "I would have been quicker."

  No, that wasn't it.

  I laughed, and Tatiana, drawn by it, laughed too.

  The middle-aged man watched us from beyond the box, his tears flowing again.

  'Really good at crying, this one.'

  Once the box was in the room, the young men bowed to me and left, leaving only the middle-aged man.

  He stood in the center of the room and bowed deeply once more.

  "Young Master, it is my first time meeting you. I am Lars, an official of the Valther Ducal House. The Duke has instructed me to assist you so that you do not face any harm or difficulties in this city. Though you may not have been aware, I have... I have been watching over you. I have longed for the moment to speak to you like this."

  Was he truly under the impression that I hadn't noticed him?

  Even though he had been watching so blatantly?

  In a way, that's impressive.

  Lars continued, tearing up as he looked at Tatiana and me.

  "I’m a bit late, but I sincerely congratulate you both on your marriage. The Duke was so pleased that he sent a gift to celebrate your marriage and the New Year."

  As Lars opened the box, an item wrapped in luxurious fabric appeared.

  He respectfully bowed and stepped back.

  Unfolding the fabric, two black robes were revealed, lined with silver fur.

  I'm not sure what kind, but it didn't seem like the fur of an ordinary animal.

  Possibly silver fox, or maybe even a magical beast.

  It must have cost a fortune.

  Inside the robes, there seemed to be an emblem embossed.

  Probably the Ducal family's coat of arms.

  'A coat of arms on clothing is something not even members of the Ducal family can wear casually.'

  I remembered my father mentioning it.

  Such garments are typically reserved for the direct lineage, specifically the Duke and Duchess or their heirs.

  And a few others as permitted by the Duke.

  'Heavy.'

  This is heavy.

  The weight of the thought behind it is too much.

  Tatiana looked at the robe, bewildered, and shook her head rapidly.

  "Wow, this must be incredibly expensive. It’s not something ordinary people would wear."

  She seemed to think the item was heavy in a different sense than I did.

  Lars placed a hand over his heart and said,

  "There is not a single person who would call either of you ordinary. Young Master, you are the next heir of the Ducal House, and your wife is a princess."

  As Lars finished, Tatiana and I exclaimed in unison.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Who did this to you?"

  It seemed we had heard something odd.

  As I looked at Tatiana, she rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath.

  "That... it's strange what he's saying. Could it be that, that he's been influenced?"

  She must have thought he'd been brainwashed.

  Lars looked slightly flustered as he watched us.

  "I apologize. I spoke prematurely without giving you any explanation. I came before you not just to deliver a gift, but to explain the current situation."

  "..."

  As Tatiana set Rella down, the bird jumped onto the box, then hopped onto Lars.

  I hadn't seen a bird climb before, as Rella usually flew up whenever it wanted.

  It clung with its claws and balanced with its tail, occasionally pecking with its beak.

  That must have been quite painful.

  But Lars, sweating, managed to keep his head up without looking.

  Unable to watch, Tatiana approached and extended her hand, and Rella jumped onto it.

  "Peep-peep!"

  It seemed Rella wanted to be placed on the new figure, intrigued by Lars.

  Tatiana hesitated, but perhaps thinking it would continue climbing if she didn’t intervene, she reached towards her shoulder.

  Rella flapped noisily and clung to Lars.

  Failing to reach the shoulder, it clung to his clothes again.

  A flash of orange feathers was visible for a moment.

  'Haah...'

  That Tatiana was a princess was news to me, but I had a rough idea of what the official's story might be.

  Perhaps the Ducal house wanted to welcome me back.

  Nicely put, it would be about embracing kin; less nicely, it would be about locking up a spirit-bearer in the Ducal house to avoid losing them to others.

  I know it’s not just about such calculated benefits.

  There's genuine affection and familial sentiment for me and my father, underlying it all.

  I understand.

  'But I still need to measure all sides of this carefully.'

  The talk of Tatiana being a princess too.

  This must have been what my father taught me for—to not get swept away by emotions or situations and to make rational decisions.

  'Well, considering Rella or even enemies, a stable place is needed.'

  Lars, trying not to look at Rella, continued speaking.

  "The Duke initially intended to proceed gradually. He did not wish to forcibly disrupt your lives. However, circumstances have rapidly changed. There’s a risk that your marriage could be annulled. If there was a mistake in your identity from the start, that marriage might not be recognized. If royalty gets involved, they could certainly twist it that way."

  A gasp came from beside me.

  Tatiana was clearly shocked.

  I was too.

  My heart pounded.

  "Let's hear the details."

  Lars seemed to gather his thoughts before continuing.

  "Our investigation at the Ducal house has concluded that your wife is indeed the princess of the Duchy of Saramoons. It appears that she was taken in by the witch Dorothea when she was young due to suspicions of her being a witch."

  That moment, Tatiana's body shook violently.

  "Tatiana!"

  I held her, but it seemed she wasn’t quite present.

  She opened her eyes wide, looking at me but not quite seeing my face.

  It was as if she was looking at something far away.

  "... my daughter... I will not let go... never... never..."

  Murmuring so, Tatiana lost consciousness.

  Holding her limp body, I felt a fear I had never known in this world before.