.That night, long after the mansion had gone quiet, Peter remained awake.
The candle near his desk had already burned low, shadows stretching across the room in uneven shapes, but he made no move to extinguish it.
His coat rested carelessly over the chair beside him, untouched since he returned.
The silence should have felt familiar.
Comfortable, even.
Instead—
It felt loud.
His fingers tapped once against the armrest before stopping again.
Restless.
He closed his eyes briefly, but the image returned immediately.
Olivia kneeling in the courtyard.
Max clinging to her sleeve.
Mike standing quietly beside her.
And the way she looked at both of them—
Like they mattered equally.
Peter let out a quiet breath through his nose, leaning back.
Ridiculous.
Why was he still thinking about it?
He had seen families before.
Noble houses overflowing with children, servants, false affection, practiced smiles.
None of it had ever interested him.
Most warmth disappeared the moment power entered the room.
But this…
This felt different.
And that difference irritated him more than it should have.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Grand Duke?” Rue peeked inside carefully before fully entering.
“You’re still awake?”
Peter glanced at him lazily.
“Unfortunately.”
Rue frowned slightly before stepping further inside, carrying tea.
“You’ve been strange since arriving here,” he muttered while setting the tray down.
Peter raised a brow.
“Strange?”
“You keep staring into space.”
“I always do that.”
“…Not like this.”
Peter clicked his tongue softly, but didn’t deny it.
Rue hesitated briefly before speaking again.
“Is it because of the child?”
That made Peter’s expression still slightly.
Mike.
The resemblance had unsettled him immediately.
Not just appearance.
The eyes too.
That same guarded silence.
That instinctive caution.
Peter had recognized it too easily.
“He’s mine,” he said flatly.
Rue blinked.
“…You’re certain?”
Peter gave him a look.
“That obvious?”
Rue immediately coughed awkwardly.
“I mean—when you put him beside you, yes.”
Silence settled again.
Then Rue spoke more carefully.
“So… what are you going to do?”
Peter didn’t answer immediately.
Because for the first time in his life—
He genuinely didn’t know.
At first, the answer had seemed simple.
Take the child.
Confirm the truth.
Leave.
That was what he came for.
His thoughts shifted unwillingly toward Olivia again.
The way Mike unconsciously moved closer to her whenever he felt uncertain.
The way Max looked at her like she was the center of his world.
And worse—
The way Olivia responded to both of them without hesitation.
Not perfectly.
Not gracefully.
But sincerely.
Peter frowned slightly.
He still remembered her words from earlier.
“He is mine.”
No calculation.
No manipulation.
Just certainty.
His fingers slowly stilled against the chair.
“…Annoying woman,” he muttered quietly.
Rue looked confused.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Peter stood suddenly, walking toward the window.
Outside, the estate grounds were dark and still beneath the moonlight.
Somewhere beyond those walls, Olivia was probably asleep with the children again.
That strange ache returned unexpectedly.
Not jealousy exactly.
Something emptier.
Something colder.
He had wealth.
Power.
Status.
But sitting at that dinner table earlier, watching those children fight over Olivia’s attention while she laughed softly between them—
Peter had realized something uncomfortable.
No one had ever waited for him like that.
No one had ever looked relieved just because he came back.
And no one had ever reached for him first.
His jaw tightened faintly.
“…How pathetic,” he murmured to himself.
Yet the feeling refused to disappear.
Behind him, Rue watched quietly before asking carefully—
“Do you… want to tell the boy?”
Peter’s gaze remained on the dark window.
Mike.
His son.
The word still felt strange in his mind.
After a long silence, Peter finally answered.
“…I don’t know.”
And that uncertainty frightened him more than anything else had in years.
At night, when the children stepped into Olivia’s room, both of them stopped near the doorway.
Soft lights hung carefully around a tent built beside the bed, their warm golden glow filling the room with a quiet kind of comfort.
Blankets and pillows had been arranged inside clumsily but carefully, as if someone had spent far too much time trying to make everything perfect despite not knowing how.
Olivia stood beside it awkwardly, suddenly looking far less composed than usual.
Her fingers adjusted the sleeve of her dress unnecessarily before she spoke.
“…Do you like it?”
The question came out stiffer than she intended.
When neither boy answered immediately—mostly because they were too surprised to speak—Olivia misunderstood the silence at once.
“I know it’s not very impressive,” she added quickly, already sounding dissatisfied with herself.
“I didn’t have enough time to prepare properly.
I’ll make it better ne—”
She stopped abruptly.
Too late.
Max’s eyes widened slightly at the word.
Next time.
Not temporary.
Not something she would forget tomorrow.
Before Olivia could react, Max suddenly threw himself forward and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.
The force of it startled her enough that she nearly lost balance.
“M-Max?”
Max buried his face against her, holding tightly without speaking at first.
But Olivia understood anyway.
To him, this wasn’t just a tent.
It was proof.
Proof that she was trying.
Proof that she was staying.
Something in Olivia’s chest tightened painfully.
Awkwardly—still not fully used to gestures like this—she slowly rested a hand against his hair.
Behind them, Mike stood quietly near the entrance.
Watching.
The warmth in the room reached him too, but so did that familiar distance he could never completely ignore.
This was Max’s mother.
Not his.
No matter how kind Olivia was to him… moments like this reminded him where he truly belonged.
Outside it.
His fingers curled slightly at his side.
Then Olivia looked up.
She noticed immediately.
She always did.
For a second, she simply looked at him quietly before extending one hand toward him without a word.
Not forcing.
Not pitying.
Just waiting.
Mike hesitated only briefly before walking closer.
The moment his hand touched hers, Olivia gently pulled him into the same embrace, wrapping one arm around each boy naturally, as if there had never been a difference between them to begin with.
Mike stiffened at first.
Then slowly—
Something inside him eased.
The tightness he carried around Olivia began softening little by little beneath the quiet certainty of her touch.
Soon, all three of them were lying inside the tent together.
Olivia rested in the middle while Max and Mike lay on either side of her, still talking despite how late it had become.
The conversation itself was meaningless.
Max complaining dramatically about losing a game earlier.
Mike quietly correcting him.
Olivia listening while pretending not to smile.
But somehow, the smallness of it made it feel even warmer.
For a long time, laughter continued filling the tiny space beneath the soft lights.
Then Olivia suddenly spoke again.
“There’s a children’s gathering in the park tomorrow,” she said casually.
“Would you like to go?”
Both boys immediately sat up slightly.
“Really?” Max asked excitedly.
Mike looked surprised too, though more hesitant.
“…Can I go too?”
The question came quietly.
Carefully.
Like he was already preparing himself for rejection before hearing the answer.
Olivia’s expression softened instantly.
Without thinking, she reached over and held his hand a little tighter beneath the blanket.
“If you want to go,” she said simply, “then you’ll go.”
No hesitation.
No conditions.
Just certainty.
Mike stared at her silently for a moment before lowering his gaze quickly, trying to hide the faint redness creeping into his ears.
That night, for the first time, the distance between them truly felt smaller.
There was no competition.
No quiet fear of being left behind.
Just warmth.
Max and Mike continued whispering small arguments back and forth long after they were supposed to sleep, occasionally kicking each other beneath the blankets while Olivia pretended not to notice.
And somewhere between those quiet laughs and sleepy complaints—
The room finally began to feel like home.