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Chapter 9
Kalips had been in a world where almost three years had passed, yet the past still felt as vivid as if it happened yesterday.
Yunis, who never once raised her voice, could break a person down completely—just like how she disciplined the children.
“Kizef, Berner. Did I say siblings are allowed to fight, or not allowed to fight?”
“…Not allowed.”
“…Not allowed.”
“See? You fought and it made Mom sad, and it even startled Roweina. Do you want that to happen again next time?”
“No.”
“Berner.”
“I won’t do it again…”
“Good. Then hug each other and make up. And apologize to our princess for scaring her. Good.”
When Yunis disciplined the children, Kalips’s role was simply to stay quiet.
He wasn’t particularly good with words anyway, and the children responded better to their mother’s discipline.
While Kalips was lost in his short memory, Kizef lifted the silence spell.
“Ah! I can breathe again, seriously.”
“Was it that suffocating?”
Berner exhaled deeply, and Roweina looked at them curiously.
“Don’t even start. It felt like someone was holding my lips shut while my mouth was full of water.”
“Ah… Kizef, can you put that silence spell on me too? I’m curious.”
“…Why? It’s not even a pleasant feeling.”
“…Brother. Don’t you think you treat me and the youngest differently?”
“Of course.”
Kalips quietly watched the children chatting away.
After Yunis disappeared from their lives, his life had become almost entirely devoted to them.
Then—
“Oh, it’s Dad!”
Roweina, stretching herself, spotted Kalips and called out happily.
Soon, Kizef and Berner also looked up.
“Oh, it really is Father.”
“……”
Berner casually waved after Roweina, while Kizef slightly bowed his head.
Their different greetings reflected their personalities, and Kalips couldn’t help but smile faintly.
He waved back lightly, and Roweina smiled brightly in satisfaction.
Her smile was so pure and bright that Kalips felt a renewed sense of gratitude.
There had been a time when that small, lovely face had been shadowed by sorrow that could never be erased.
“…Yunis, it would have been nice if you could see this.”
He swallowed the familiar ache of longing.
“Dad, we’re going! Good luck with work!”
Roweina clenched both fists and waved before turning around.
The two boys followed her after politely bowing.
“…It feels a bit guilty, like we’re going for a walk while Dad is working.”
“Isn’t that just because you didn’t do your homework, brother?”
“That’s not… I mean, I didn’t skip it, I just postponed it. I can finish it before class.”
“Homework should be done early, Berner.”
“…Alright, alright. Anyway, don’t forget you promised to help me later.”
“Report.”
“Ah, come on, brother! You promised to help!”
Kalips returned to his seat, the fading voices of his children serving as background noise.
A faint smile remained on his lips—something only his aide, who arrived later, noticed.
I soaked in a warm, fragrant bath until my body turned completely soft and limp, then headed straight to bed.
“Brillin could make a fortune as a massage therapist someday…”
I mumbled while crawling under the blanket like a worm, and Basha let out a small laugh.
“You’re saying the exact same thing as Madam.”
“Mom?”
“Yes. Madam used to say that too. She said Brillin could probably buy a mansion in the capital if she worked as a massage therapist.”
I nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, that sounds right. That therapy shop that’s trending in the capital right now? Brillin would probably become even more famous than that.”
“Well, Brillin herself probably wouldn’t want that.”
Brillin, who had once been saved by my mother, had sworn loyalty to her afterward.
And after my mother passed away, Brillin had taken care of me just as she once served her.
“…She probably heard that from Mom before she passed.”
I quietly imagined my mother’s face.
Her beauty was unforgettable, but her warm and gentle presence grew faint in my memory unless I deliberately recalled it.
“I should watch the memory orb tomorrow.”
The greatest gift of magical advancement was the memory orb.
Without it, I would have spent far more days crying because I missed her.
Then—
Knock knock.
“Roweina. May I come in?”
A deep voice came through the door. It was Dad.
“Yes!”
I shouted loudly, and Basha chuckled softly.
“Then I’ll take my leave. Good night, young lady.”
“You too, Basha.”
After kissing my cheek lightly, Basha bowed to Dad just as he entered, then left the room.
Click.
The door closed softly.
Dad had a book of moderate thickness in his hands.
One of the most consistent parts of my life, just before sleep, was this time.
It had started when Kizef was born, suggested by Mom, and even after she passed away, Dad continued it.
“What book is it today?”
I asked as Dad sat beside my bed.
“The Adventure of the Baby Cat.”
His deep voice read out the title of a very cute book.
Even without hearing the content, I could tell it was a children’s story full of hope and love.
‘Doesn’t suit Dad at all.’
I couldn’t help but laugh softly.
Dad usually chose the books himself, and even though he knew what I normally read, he stubbornly picked children’s stories every night.
Honestly, as someone with an adult mind, I found them childish—but I also understood his feelings, so I never complained.
Except for the occasional laughter I couldn’t hold back.
“Dad, did you read this to my brothers too?”
“Yunis read it to them before.”
I hadn’t really expected an answer, but he replied immediately.
“Mom did?”
“Yes. …Actually, this was your mother’s favorite book. She used to read it to your brothers often.”
“I see…”
I glanced at the thin children’s book. Now that I looked closely, it seemed quite worn, like it had been handled many times.
As if sensing my curiosity, Dad handed me the book.
I accepted it and slowly flipped through it.
A small black kitten standing proudly on a big tree.
“…Ah. Now that I think about it…”
A scene flashed through my mind.
The day I once visited Dad’s office and saw him quietly looking at a small book instead of documents.
I remembered how gently he had touched it.
“…This is the book that was in your office, right?”
I asked carefully, and Dad paused slightly. I didn’t need an answer to know it was yes.
After a moment of silence, he answered slowly.
“Yes. …I guess I just kept holding onto it without realizing.”
But the way he touched it didn’t feel like something so casual.
Still, I didn’t want to press him.
It was probably a memory of Mom.
“I didn’t know you had seen it.”
“Mm, I just happened to…”
I didn’t say that I had backed away because his gaze while looking at the book was so full of longing and pain.
I quietly placed the book on the nightstand.
Then I shifted myself under the blanket and patted the empty space beside me.
“Come up.”
“…On the bed?”
Dad looked slightly surprised—something rare for him.
But I ignored it and patted the spot again.
“Yes. Hurry.”
In the end, he got up and followed my request.
I covered him with the blanket once he sat beside me. He looked a little awkward, then smiled faintly.
“Should I read the book now?”
“No. Let’s not read today. Let’s just talk.”
“Talk?”
“Yeah. Let’s talk about Mom today.”
Dad froze at my words.
