Two days later, Eugene found herself checking the spell notebook repeatedly from morning onward. The entries had grown sparse—he hadn’t written much since the day he set out. It seemed he’d been riding almost nonstop, without even enough time to scribble a few words.
That morning, she’d heard that the Grand Commander, Chancellor, and several other high-ranking officials had left for the outskirts of the capital to receive the king. It made sense now—why the Grand Commander had asked her to inform him of the king’s expected arrival. But what truly surprised her was what came next.
They weren’t merely going out to greet him—they were reportedly kneeling, waiting for him as if they were criminals seeking pardon.
“Is it because I rode Mara to the capital?” Eugene muttered, frowning to herself.
It was the only explanation she could think of. The thought made her uneasy. Guilt crept in, even though she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. Still, it wasn’t something she could easily resolve or undo.
Frustrated, she turned to Dana and confided her worries.
“They couldn’t have stopped me from doing what I did,” Eugene said. “It wasn’t like I was trying to harm the kingdom—in fact, I had no choice. I stepped up because I had to. Thanks to that, the kingdom is safe, and no one was hurt. Kasser… he knows that. I’m sure he does.”
Dana listened quietly, her expression unreadable. Then, with deliberate grace, she set her teacup down on the table.
“You’re right,” Dana said softly. “Of course the Fourth King knows. He surely understands that those men meant no harm.”
“Then why should they have to beg for forgiveness if neither I nor they did anything wrong?” Eugene asked, brows furrowed.
“They’re not entirely blameless,” Dana replied.
“What?” Eugene blinked.
“What orders do you think the king gave his retainers before leaving for the capital?”
Eugene hesitated. “…To protect the kingdom in his absence, I suppose.”
“Exactly,” Dana said with a small nod. “And part of what they were meant to protect is you. You’re not just the queen—you’re carrying the king’s child. That child is the future of the kingdom. In a way, it is the kingdom.”
Eugene fell silent.
“What you did ultimately turned out well,” Dana continued gently. “You protected the kingdom. You safeguarded the capital. But you could have been in real danger. And those men—they failed not only in defending the kingdom, but also in protecting you. When someone of lower rank makes a mistake, it can be overlooked. But when leaders fail in their duty, it’s considered a sin.”
Eugene’s gaze dropped slowly to the floor. Dana’s tone had remained calm throughout, as though she were simply discussing the weather. There was no judgment, no hint of scolding.
And yet, Eugene felt a faint, unmistakable sting in her chest.
“Jin.”
“…Yes, Mother?”
Dana’s gaze was calm but firm. “Before you act, I hope you’ll give a little more thought to the ripples it might cause. Even actions made with the best of intentions can lead to unintended consequences. The kingdom isn’t like the capital. It’s steeped in protocol, and even simple matters often require roundabout solutions.”
Eugene nodded slowly. “Of course. Then… will the Grand General and the Chancellor be punished?”
“Don’t worry,” Dana said gently. “Nothing will happen to them.”
Eugene looked up, surprised. “His Majesty won’t punish them?”
“No,” Dana replied with certainty. “And I’m sure they know that, too. This is just a necessary process—an offering of remorse, forgiveness granted in return.”
After a thoughtful pause, Eugene asked, “A matter of appearances?”
Dana smiled, clearly pleased. “You truly are becoming a queen of this kingdom.”
Eugene let out a modest chuckle, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. It wasn’t that she’d fully grasped the political intricacies of the kingdom—it was more like drawing on fragments of knowledge from her past life. After all, she’d absorbed countless stories of power struggles from dramas and films.
“If they didn’t properly lower themselves and publicly seek forgiveness—enough for anyone to recognize their remorse—then their political enemies could use that against them later,” Dana explained. “Still, don’t assume they’re just putting on a show to save face. I believe their apology is sincere.”
Eugene sighed quietly and gave a small nod. When she recalled the expression on the Grand General’s face the day she returned from the Holy City, it wasn’t hard to believe he’d truly been worried for her.
Late that afternoon, just before sunset, a palace attendant rushed in, breathless.
“Your Highness, His Majesty the King—”
Eugene shot to her feet before the attendant could finish.
Her heart raced, aching to run to him—but Dana’s words echoed in her mind. Appearances matter. She forced herself to walk, slow and measured, even as her feet itched to break into a sprint.
Still, the corridor had never felt so long.
Then, just as she turned the final corner, she stopped in her tracks.
Kasser stood there, having just rounded the bend. Their eyes met.
“I’ve returned, my queen,” he said with a soft smile.
Without another word, Eugene’s stride quickened. The distance between them vanished, and yet to her, it still felt far too wide. Finally, when only a few steps remained, she threw herself into his arms.
“You’re back,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting.”
Something about this moment felt different from their reunion in the Holy City. Back then, an unspoken tension had lingered—the knowledge that they would soon have to part again.
But not now.
This was home.
And he had come home.
They wouldn’t be separated like that again.
From a respectful distance, the palace attendants watched as their king and queen embraced in the corridor. Smiles warmed their faces. Though the dry season was ending and the active season returning, peace had found its way back into the palace.
And in that moment, it felt like peace had returned to the kingdom as well.
***
Boom.
The distant sound echoed like a thunderclap.
Eugene stepped toward the window, her eyes drawn to the plume of yellow smoke rising in the sky. A signal flare—its vivid color blooming against the blue—drifted and spread like a warning across the heavens.
It was the first flare fired in three days.
This active season, sightings of Larks had noticeably decreased. Eugene didn’t have enough firsthand experience with the active seasons to say for certain, but the consensus among the palace staff and guards was clear: this year, the flares were fewer, the threats more sporadic.
That must be a good sign, she thought.
Ah!
A sharp pain suddenly stabbed through her abdomen. Gasping, Eugene clutched her stomach and bent over, her breath catching in her throat.
“Your Highness!” one of the ladies-in-waiting cried out.
