"Démic, Alan, I'm so happy to hear your voices... I can't describe how I felt when I learned you were back safely," Elena said with joy. 

Démic, with a warm smile, leaned toward the screen: "Thank you, Mama... We knew you’d be worried." 

"We’ve been thinking about you the whole time. How was your journey?" Alan asked. 

"It was long and exhausting, but the news I received made all the fatigue disappear. I’ll be with you a day before the party. I don’t want to miss any important moment." 

"How is your family?" Démic inquired. 

"They're all well and were thrilled to hear of your return. I had planned to spend more time at my family's estate, but I can't wait to see you both." Elena replied. 

Evering, with a friendly smile, said: "Your presence will make things so much better, Mother Elena. We all need you here." 

Elena looked at the three of them, overwhelmed with maternal emotions. "You all are always in my heart, and I’ll be back soon to be with you as promised. Nothing matters more to me than seeing you happy and safe." 

Démic and Evering smiled, feeling the deep bond they share with Elena, who was more than just their father’s wife. She was a true mother to them and even to their cousins, supporting them through the darkest times. She never accepted the title of empress and swore before her father, the former minister, that she only wished to care for these orphaned children. No matter what happened, she never abandoned them, nor did she ever seek Cassius’s love. Even he, after Isolda, closed his heart to love and never looked at her, despite her great beauty and striking resemblance to her late sister. 

The next day at the royal palace of Cassial, the atmosphere was filled with excitement and anticipation. The royal procession’s horses were being prepared at the palace gates, and the voices of the servants echoed as they busied themselves with the preparations. In the corridors, the footsteps of the guards quickened as they exchanged formal salutes, while the scent of flowers, which adorned the grand hall where the long-awaited celebration would be held, wafted through the air. 

Inside his office, Evering sat with his eyes fixed on the screen of his magical tablet. His fingers moved swiftly across the screen, his expression tense as though he were waging a hidden battle between thoughts and emotions. Before him, Kaylos stood in silence, observing his older brother with a look filled with concern and curiosity. 

“Did you send out the invitations?” Kaylos asked cautiously, trying to understand what was going on in Evering’s mind. 

Evering slowly lifted his head, his eyes glimmering with a mysterious light. “Yes, I did. Everyone is invited... and now, we must be ready for what’s to come.” 

With a mix of curiosity and concern, Kaylos asked, "Brother, did you send the invitation to Mirasia?" 

Evering nodded and replied, "Yes, and they have agreed, though William might not come himself." 

He added, "I spoke with him personally. He told me he’s happy that my brothers have returned and that he feels what I’m feeling now… He said he’s going through something similar because he lost his brother suddenly. I didn’t know why he was telling me this, and even he admitted that he wasn’t sure why he was sharing it with me, but he thinks I would understand because I’ve lived through something similar." 

Kaylos hesitated for a moment before saying, "I heard rumors that William went mad because of his brother’s disappearance, and that he’s desperately searching for him." 

Evering sighed and responded calmly, recalling the meeting, "Yes, I saw his face… He looked truly exhausted, his face so pale. It seems he’s worn out from everything that’s happening." 

He paused briefly before continuing in a reflective tone. Kaylos, after a moment of deep thought, spoke with a worried voice, "So… should we tell him? Or perhaps we could send Démic to speak with him?" 

But Evering shook his head firmly, rejecting the idea quickly: "No, the Aarons don’t deserve sympathy. That fool betrayed my beloved brother with his wife… I don’t care if he meant to or not. I will avenge my brother against that worthless woman, his ex-wife."

▪︎Kretos quietly entered Démic’s room, finding the royal tailor bent over, trying to take Démic’s measurements. Démic seemed dissatisfied with everything; his taste was complicated, and his constant refusals turned the process into a real nightmare. Kretos felt sorry for the tailor and couldn’t suppress a smile at the chaotic scene. 

KretosHe bows respectfully and says, "Your humble servant, Kretos, Your Highness." 

Démic turns toward the voice, smiling involuntarily as he recognizes Kretos. He steps forward and embraces him tightly.

"Kris! You’ve really grown up; you’ve become a handsome young man." 

Kretos nervously "Y-Your Highness, what are you doing…?" 

Démic laughs and releases him. "Kris, where have you been? Why didn’t you come to see me until now?" 

"Your Highness, I was outside the capital, and the news didn’t reach me quickly. But as soon as I heard of your return, I came back through one of the teleportation gates'' 

."  Demic smiles affectionately, "It’s good to have you back, Kris." 

"I’m glad you’re here, Kris. I’ll need your help 

." Demic pauses, then asks, "Did you meet Alan before you came? How was he?" 

"He seems well, but… he looked a bit sad. He can’t talk to Miss Judith the way he wants to."

Kretos chuckles. 

**Démic** laughs too: "Yeah, he’s doing just fine. That trickster thinks I don’t notice his actions, but don’t worry. I’ll throw them a big wedding after the celebration." 

"And what about you, Your Highness?"

Kretos asked 

Démic with a sad tone: "I’ve already been married once, and after Jina’s wedding, I don’t think I’ll try my luck again." 

Kretos was stunned, as if struck by lightning: "Who told you that Miss Jina got married?" 

**Démic:** "Evy told me." 

Kretos was speechless, screaming internally: "Damn it, why is His Highness lying? Should I tell His Highness Démic? No, I can’t do that. His Highness Ivering would strangle me." 

“Kris… Kris, Earth to Kris, where did you go?” 

Kretos smiles, embarrassed: "No, nothing, Your Highness. Just thinking about what kind of clothes would suit you best; you need to be the most handsome person at the celebration." 

**Démic** laughs: "Isn’t that right? By the way, the Crown Prince will be arriving today. I think he’ll get here in an hour… Stand still, Your Highness, don’t move; let me help the tailor take your measurements." 

Kretos began assisting with Démic’s measurements and fabric selections, and the designer and his team were pleased with his refined taste and how he managed to calm Démic down. Those observing would think they were more than master and servant; they seemed like true brothers or close friends. 

“So, my little nephew is coming. I’m looking forward to seeing him… What does he look like?” 

“He’s great, looks a lot like His Highness Ivering, and has qualities from His Highness Cassius. He’s playful like him and kind and gentle like Her Highness Yursina.” 

Démic says with a warm smile: “I already like him without even seeing him.” 

“I heard you have a child, Your Highness.” 

“Yes, Lucio. Fortunately, he looks a lot like me. Every time I look at him, I see all my features in his face. He’s blond like my father too.” 

**Kretos:** “If he looks like His Highness Démic, he must be very handsome.” 

Démic laughs: “Isn’t he, Kris?” 

“Of course, Your Highness. How could I forget that you were the dream knight of all the girls in Cassial?” 

Démic sighs: “That was back in the day. We’ve grown up now.” 

“Are you kidding me, Your Highness?” 

After Kretos finished his work and handed the measurements to the designer, he ordered them to leave. Démic sat at the table, while Kretos poured tea for him and offered a slice of the berry cake Démic loved. 

“Your Highness, are you telling me now that you think you’ve lost your charm?” 

Démic responds quietly as he drinks the tea: “Isn’t that the case?” 

Kretos adjusts his glasses and smiles calmly: “Your Highness, you’ll see for yourself at the party. Trust me.” 

**Démic** with a small smile: “I’m a father now; all I think about is bringing my son to my side.” 

“The Crown Prince Lucio will come, so don’t worry.” 

“You knew his name?” Démic asked. 

“Yes, His Highness Alen told me,” Kretos replies clearly. 

“Kris, sit down. Why are you standing?” 

“I can’t, Your Highness.” 

Démic gestures for Kretos to sit: “Kris, don’t be foolish. Sit.” 

Kretos pulls up a chair and sits, feeling awkward. Démic pours him a cup of tea. 

**Kretos:** “Your Highness, what are you doing?” 

Démic, annoyed, says: “Kris, why are you acting so formal? We’ve always been like brothers since we were kids. Have you forgotten how much we used to play together?” 

Kretos, feeling embarrassed: “Your Highness, that was when we were children. Everyone needs to know their place, and I am the servant of the royals of Cassial, and that is the greatest honor for me.” 

**Démic** sarcastically: “Shut up, Kris. Tell me, what have you been up to these days?” 

* “I bought a small café in the capital. I go there occasionally to collect profits and catch up on the news.” 

* “Oh, you sly fox. Are you setting up a spy network there?” Démic comments slyly. 

Kretos responds with a sly smile: “His Highness Démic is as sharp as ever.” 

Démic asks: “So, did your network pay off?” 

* “Yes, Your Highness. We found out about the bandits trying to rob Cassial’s trade caravans. The Crown Prince went personally to capture them, and we’ll find out who they’re working for.” 

**Démic:** “Are they working for a particular kingdom?” 

“I don’t think the direct rulers have an interest in it, but I suspect some dirty moves from certain nobles there. Once we know who they’re working for, we’ll send a stern message to their rulers.” 

Démic is impressed by Kretos’s intelligence: “Good, better than I expected. You haven’t lost your wits, Kris.” 

Placing his hand on his chest and bowing respectfully, Kretos says: “This humble servant doesn’t deserve such praise.” 

Démic chuckles lightly: “Damn you, Kris, why did you grow up to be so boring?” 

Kretos laughs: “My apologies, Your Highness.”