Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody seemed capable of speech.
Jemina stood cheerfully at the edge of the village carrying a basket filled with berries.
Behind her stood Noctellis.
Who was currently carrying six makeshift baskets.
Several villagers immediately raised whatever happened to be in their hands.
A hoe.
A rake.
A wooden plank.
One particularly determined lamia was wielding a leek.
Jemina blinked.
"It's okay, guys. Lower your garden tools and... is that a leek? What exactly are you planning to do with that?"
The lamia immediately dropped the leek.
Then, casually picked up a carrot instead.
Jemina recognized her as the person responsible for lunch preparations and decided not to question the logic.
Unfortunately, seeing the carrot only reminded her how hungry she was.
Her stomach growled.
Loudly.
"Uhm... are you all not going to relax?"
Nobody answered.
The entire village remained frozen in place.
Ready to attack.
The only thing preventing immediate violence was the fact that their ridiculous chief was standing in front of the intruder, smiling like she had just returned from a pleasant picnic.
Beside her, Noctellis adjusted one of the baskets.
Then looked toward Jemina.
"Where would you like these?"
"Oh."
Jemina pointed toward a nearby storage shed.
"Over there."
"Understood."
Noctellis calmly walked toward the building carrying the herbs, berries, roots, and various forest ingredients they had gathered together.
Jemina was fairly certain the lamias would separate the edible plants from the potentially deadly ones later.
Probably.
After a long silence, during which every eye followed Noctellis until he disappeared into the shed and emerged moments later, someone finally found their voice.
"YOU CAME BACK WITH HIM?!"
Of course, it was Raisa.
Only Raisa possessed both the courage and the exhaustion necessary to react first.
"Yes."
"WHY?"
Jemina opened her mouth.
Paused.
Closed it.
Then looked toward Noctellis.
Noctellis looked back.
The silence stretched.
Jemina smiled nervously.
"It's a long story."
"Tell it."
"I'm hungry. Can we eat first?"
"You seriously think this is the time for food?"
"Yes?"
"Talk."
Jemina immediately looked like a snail preparing to retreat into its shell.
Before she could escape, Noctellis reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a strip of dried meat and handed it to her.
Jemina's eyes lit up.
She accepted it immediately and began nibbling.
Raisa stared.
The villagers stared.
The warm look Noctellis gave Jemina while she happily ate created an image of a peaceful couple having a sweet moment.
Several people physically shook themselves to restore their vigilance.
Meanwhile, Lucas had become increasingly suspicious.
His attention remained fixed on Noctellis.
During the battle, there had been too much chaos to properly observe him.
Now, however, Lucas had time.
And the more he looked, the more his brain processed.
The way the man walked.
The way he carried himself.
The sword.
The posture.
The expression.
Everything felt familiar.
Uncomfortably familiar.
Lucas froze.
No.
That was ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
But...
He looked again.
The statuesque physique.
The black hair.
The warm autumn-colored eyes.
The fact that he appeared physically incapable of slouching.
Lucas slowly inhaled.
Raisa pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Fine. If we're apparently doing this, then let's start with introductions."
She looked directly at Jemina. Raisa believed they wouldn't be able to get a clear explanation from their chief unless she started with the basics.
"That is generally how things work when you bring a mysterious man back to the village."
"Fair."
Raisa folded her arms.
"So?"
Jemina sighed.
"Right. Uhm..."
She pointed.
"This is my husband, and he is—"
"Noctellis Ellengarde!"
Lucas practically shouted it.
Jemina immediately turned to glare at him.
Lucas ignored her.
He pointed dramatically toward the duke.
"THAT IS THE HERO OF THE EMPIRE."
Silence.
Then Raisa looked at him.
"Lucas."
"What?"
"That is the stupidest thing you've ever said."
"It is not."
"What possible reason would you have for believing that the Hero of the Empire is married to Jemina?"
Lucas opened his mouth.
Then pointed again.
"I have reasons!"
"What reasons?"
"He became famous. His description is everywhere. Half the women in the Empire became obsessed with black-haired men because of him."
Nobody interrupted.
Lucas took that as encouragement.
"I also attended one of his victory parades years ago."
"You saw him from a distance."
"Yes."
"That proves nothing."
Lucas opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
Then closed it once more.
The surrounding lamias immediately nodded.
"That makes sense."
"It really doesn't."
Some nervous laughter spread through the crowd.
Then,
Rosaline slowly raised her hand.
The laughter stopped.
Immediately.
Rosaline rarely interrupted conversations.
And when she did, it was usually because she was certain.
She carefully studied Noctellis.
"I attended a royal banquet several years ago."
The village became silent.
"I only saw him briefly."
Another pause.
Then Rosaline spoke.
"I think Lucas is right."
The village froze.
Every head slowly turned toward Noctellis.
Ayine looked horrified.
"...No."
Lucas pointed triumphantly.
"YES."
Raisa slowly turned toward Jemina.
"...He actually married you?"
Jemina looked deeply offended.
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Raisa gestured vaguely between the two of them.
"It means look at him."
Silence.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"That is not how you speak to a duchess!"
Chaos immediately erupted.
Meanwhile, one person remained completely silent.
Cyrinne.
The Primarch sat comfortably beneath a tree, calmly sipping tea while the villagers became excessively louder around her.
She looked entirely unbothered.
As though the revelation that the Hero of the Empire had somehow married Jemina was only mildly more interesting than the weather.
A younger lamia noticed first.
Her eyes widened.
Then she pointed dramatically.
"Lady Cyrinne knows."
The village froze.
Slowly, everyone turned toward the silver-haired woman.
Cyrinne took another sip of tea.
Unhurried.
Elegant.
Dangerously serene.
The villagers approached with the caution usually reserved for sleeping predators.
"Lady Cyrinne?"
"Hm."
She didn't even look up.
The lamia swallowed.
"Is that really the Hero of the Empire?"
A long pause followed.
Cyrinne thoughtfully examined her teacup.
Then took another sip.
Only after several agonizing seconds did she answer.
"Perhaps."
The village exploded.
"PERHAPS?!"
"THAT IS NOT AN ANSWER!"
"HOW DO YOU PERHAPS KNOW SOMETHING LIKE THAT?"
Cyrinne calmly drank more tea.
Across the crowd, Ayine suddenly frowned.
A more important realization struck her.
"But... even if that's true..."
Everyone looked at her.
Ayine pointed toward Noctellis.
"Wasn't he working with Milena's husband?"
The atmosphere immediately grew tense again.
Milena stiffened.
Several villagers glanced nervously toward Ysilvern's former direction.
Jemina immediately shook her head.
"No."
The answer came firmly.
Everyone looked at her.
"He wasn't."
Noctellis remained silent.
Jemina continued.
"He temporarily worked alongside Ysilvern to find a potential threat to the kingdom. Well, since there was no threat, that's the extent of it."
Milena looked relieved.
Jemina noticed immediately.
So she smiled.
Milena hesitated before stepping forward.
"I'm sorry."
Jemina blinked.
"What for?"
Milena lowered her gaze.
"For putting you in such a difficult position."
The village became quieter.
Milena glanced toward Noctellis before quickly looking away again.
"Thanks for worrying about me."
Her smile was small but genuine.
"But I'm all right."
Jemina's expression softened.
Good.
That alone made the entire disaster worthwhile.
Milena folded her hands together.
"Now that introductions are finished..."
She glanced hopefully toward the main house.
"Can we eat?"
"Not so fast."
Raisa immediately interrupted.
The collective hope of several villagers died.
Jemina sighed dramatically.
"Uhm... what is it, my dear beloved Raisa?"
Raisa narrowed her eyes.
She refused to be distracted by flattery.
"Where are the two of you staying?"
Jemina blinked.
"What?"
"I don't want another tree house situation."
Silence.
Then everyone remembered.
The tree house.
The debauchery.
The repairs.
The trauma.
Slowly, every eye drifted toward Cyrinne.
The Primarch continued drinking tea.
Completely shameless.
"Oh."
Jemina finally understood.
"Right."
She coughed.
"We'll stay in the small house near the watchtower."
Lucas nearly choked.
"The small house?"
"Yes."
"For him?"
Lucas pointed dramatically toward Noctellis.
"The Hero of the Empire?"
Before Jemina could answer, one of the younger lamias whispered,
"The smaller the space, the better."
Unfortunately,
everyone heard it.
The lamia immediately covered her mouth.
Several others nodded thoughtfully.
Jemina wasn't embarrassed.
She wasn't even flustered.
Instead, she slowly turned toward Noctellis.
Then a mischievous smile appeared.
Several villagers immediately groaned.
"Oh no," Rosaline whispered.
Raisa rubbed her forehead.
"Here we go again."
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Far away from the Null Forest.
Far away from the Empire.
Far away from the chaos currently consuming her son's life.
A woman quietly set down her teacup.
The room fell silent.
Not because she had spoken.
Because everyone else had.
And now they regretted it.
The unfortunate attendant standing before her wished desperately to be somewhere else.
Anywhere else.
Unfortunately, fate had abandoned him.
Sigrid Valen-Hyde listened to the report in complete silence.
The former Queen of the Underworld sat comfortably within her private estate.
Retirement suited her.
She had expensive tea.
Expensive furniture.
Expensive peace and quiet.
She enjoyed all three immensely.
Until today.
The attendant swallowed nervously.
"...and then Young Master Hyde was reportedly dragged out of the Null Forest by monsters."
Silence.
Sigrid blinked once.
"...Dragged."
"Yes, Lady Valen-Hyde."
"By monsters."
"...Yes."
Another pause.
"While attempting to retrieve his wife."
"...Yes."
The attendant could physically feel his soul preparing to leave his body.
Sigrid slowly removed her glasses.
Everyone in the room immediately stopped breathing.
This was a terrible sign.
A legendary sign.
A sign that had historically resulted in numerous funerals.
The former queen pinched the bridge of her nose.
Then sighed.
A long.
Tired.
Maternal sigh.
The kind of sigh produced by mothers who had spent decades cleaning up disasters created by otherwise intelligent children.
"Let me make sure I understand."
Nobody moved.
"My son entered the Null Forest."
"Yes."
"He failed."
"...Yes."
"He started a battle."
"Yes."
"He lost."
"...Yes."
"He was then dragged away by mud-covered wolves."
"...Yes."
Silence.
Then,
Sigrid smiled.
The attendant immediately began sweating.
"Interesting."
The smile somehow made everything worse.
Much worse.
"How old is Ysilvern?"
The attendant blinked.
"Twenty-eight."
"Twenty-eight."
She nodded slowly.
"Remarkable."
Nobody dared speak.
"At twenty-eight, I had already overthrown two criminal organizations and survived three assassination attempts."
The attendant wisely remained silent.
Sigrid stood.
The room collectively prepared for disaster.
She walked toward the large window overlooking her estate.
For several moments, she simply stared outside.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Evaluating.
Then finally,
"What is the wife's name?"
"Milena."
"Milena."
The name rolled thoughtfully across her tongue.
The woman who had somehow reduced her son into a lovesick idiot.
The woman responsible for the first genuine humiliation Ysilvern Hyde had suffered in years.
The woman currently hiding inside the Null Forest.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Sigrid smiled again.
This time it looked genuinely dangerous.
"I suppose retirement is over."
The attendant visibly paled.
"Lady Valen-Hyde—"
"No."
She silenced him with a wave.
"I have heard enough."
The former queen turned.
Elegant.
Calm.
Deadly.
The expression of a woman who had once ruled the underworld so completely that people still whispered her name years after she stepped down.
"Prepare transportation."
The attendant hesitated.
"To where?"
Sigrid's smile widened.
"The Null Forest."
The room immediately lost what little hope remained.
"It is time," she said pleasantly, "that I fix my son's mess."