On a peaceful afternoon in the House of the Hearth, you stood by the window, watching the children play in the garden with a soft smile. Their laughter echoed through the halls, a sound you treasured. Lost in the moment, you didn’t notice Arlecchino approach until her voice broke the silence.

“Still standing there?” she asked, her tone as cold as ever. Her expression was unreadable, but you’d learned to see the subtle warmth hidden beneath.

Turning to her, you gestured at the window. “Just watching over them.”

She huffed but moved to stand beside you. Her gaze followed yours to the children, and for a fleeting moment, her lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. Before you could comment, a loud crash echoed from the garden.

You hurried outside to find a toppled plant pot. Lyney stood awkwardly nearby, his hat tilted, while Lynette calmly tried to diffuse the situation. Freminet clutched a broom, clearly hoping to fix things before "Father" arrived. The younger children hovered nervously, unsure how to react.

“What happened here?” Arlecchino’s sharp voice made everyone freeze as she appeared at your side.

Lynette sighed. “Lyney was showing off again.”

Lyney flushed. “I was practicing! The plant was just in the way—”

You knelt in front of him, gently inspecting him for injuries. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, ignoring his excuses. Once satisfied, you stood and calmly scolded all of them—not out of anger, but concern. They muttered their apologies, avoiding your gaze.

Arlecchino turned to leave, her presence looming as always, when Lyney stammered, “S-sorry… Mother.”

The air grew tense. His face flushed with embarrassment, and your breath caught at the unexpected title.

Arlecchino paused, glancing back with mild surprise. “Mother, hmm?” she said, a faint trace of amusement in her voice. “Perhaps it suits you. Every father needs a caring mother to balance them out.”

The children exchanged nervous looks but nodded in agreement.