"Mom, Mother, stop hugging already! I’m starving—I want dinner!"

Eliya, seated at the dining table, tapped her foot impatiently and called toward the doorway where the two women remained locked in a tender embrace.

Naya finally pulled away from Elise with an awkward smile, a faint blush visibly creeping across her cheeks.

After the family finished dinner, Naya, as usual, helped Eliya bathe.

This gave Elise a quiet moment to speak with the maid.

Flanna had been assigned to watch over Naya and Eliya that day.

Once the other maids cleared the table, she brought Elise a post-dinner milk tea.

Elise sat back, lifted the cup Flanna offered, and took a delicate sip.

"What did Naya do today?"

"Your Majesty, Miss Naya behaved exactly as always—nothing unusual. Have you been overworking yourself lately?"

Flanna couldn’t imagine Naya harming Elise or Eliya. To her, they were the picture of a devoted couple.

Suspecting Naya of ill intent felt far less likely than her Queen simply being overly cautious—a natural reflex for the Dragon Queen, constantly shadowed by assassination attempts and schemes.

Of course, as a subordinate, she’d never say that outright. Instead, she gently implied Elise’s worries were unfounded.

"Recite everything Naya did today. Don’t miss a single detail."

Flanna hesitated, then reported truthfully.

Just as she’d said—routine.

"If anything… this afternoon, Miss Naya seemed out of sorts. Lost in thought, even while cooking."

*But isn’t that normal?*

"I see."

Elise set down her cup, crossed her legs, and propped her chin on one hand.

She reflected: the only thing that might upset Naya was injecting her with genes without explanation.

But this morning’s test ruled that out.

The energy she’d sensed in Naya felt eerily familiar—strikingly similar to the Dragonkin transformation surge five years ago, the very event that nearly killed her.

*Naya’s memories are returning.*

Worst case: she’d use Elise’s weakness to kill her and reclaim her title as the human Chosen Hero.

Yet Naya seemed torn, not decisive.

Elise’s fingers traced the blood-red gem on her ring finger.

Naya had insisted a marriage ring was non-negotiable.

She remembered the blissful, content smile on Naya’s face when she became queen consort.

*If her memories are back… should I erase them? To keep her mine?*

With her power, she could.

But what if Naya would still love her anyway? Would that make Elise the villain?

*"Elise," she chided herself silently, "this isn’t like you."*

She closed her eyes, took a slow breath.

As the Dragon Sovereign, she shouldn’t harbor softness. Shouldn’t love. Shouldn’t hesitate with threats.

Flanna watched, puzzled. *Why do they both look so troubled? Is this the fabled "seven-year itch"?*

"Mother! I’m lending Mom to you now!"

Eliya’s cheerful voice cut through the silence. Elise’s expression instantly shifted back to cool composure—though warmth still softened her eyes when she looked at her daughter.

Naya carried Eliya, wrapped only in a bathrobe, to Elise. She wore a simple white yukata, hair pinned high, damp patches staining the fabric.

Thankfully, Eliya blocked any… sensitive views.

"Hurry up bathing! Mom still has to read my bedtime story!"

A faint smile tugged at Naya’s lips.

A year ago, Naya bathed only with Eliya; Elise washed alone.

But Elise’s desires had grown. Teasing Naya in the bath became routine—until bathing together felt natural, necessary.

Family baths were possible (the castle’s bathroom was vast), but… *certain moments* weren’t for Eliya’s eyes.

With only one Naya to share, Elise offered Eliya a choice: bathe alone or with a maid.

She underestimated Eliya’s devotion.

"I won’t bathe without Mom!" the girl declared stubbornly.

So Naya compromised: Eliya first, then Elise.

Touched by Naya’s smile, Elise’s own lips curved gently—only family ever saw this side of her.

Naya turned and handed Eliya to Flanna. "Flanna, I’m counting on you."

Tasks like drying hair or changing clothes weren’t things Eliya demanded only Naya do.

"Of course," Flanna replied, gathering the child into her arms.

Only after the couple left did a knowing, aunt-like smile grace Flanna’s lips. *Adults understand.*

Before entering the bath, Naya was still lost in warm memories.

Her fingers reached for the cord at Elise’s robe back—watching the fabric slide down—when realization jolted her.

The routine was too automatic. Since Elise’s return, her guard had dropped. She’d silenced the System long ago… and forgotten she’d regained her memories.

Naya froze.

Past-life memories loomed large, yet the five years with Elise felt… heavier.

"Naya? What’s wrong?"

Elise turned. Naya averted her gaze, unable to meet the gentle swell of Elise’s chest.

"It’s nothing…"

*Shyness? Or revulsion?*

Elise recalled Naya’s flustered reaction that morning. *Maybe restored memories aren’t so bad.*

But she needed to know: did Naya still love her?

Elise closed the distance, arms circling Naya’s slender waist. Chests pressed together; heartbeats hammered between them—a frantic, shared rhythm.

"Let’s cancel Eliya’s bedtime story tonight."

*After all… Naya might be too exhausted later.*