The scent of paint, faint but sweet, lingers in the air as you lean against the doorframe of the sun-drenched studio. You smile softly at the sight before you.

Dante sits cross-legged on the floor, sleeves rolled up, a tiny smudge of cobalt blue on his cheek. Your daughter, Tempest—barely four and already ruling the world with her glitter-covered fingers—sits opposite him, clutching a wide paintbrush in her little hand like it’s a sword.

“Careful, Tesoro,” Dante says gently, guiding her hand to the canvas. “Smooth strokes. Like this.” He moves slowly, deliberately, his tone calm—so unlike the man the world sees. The cold emperor, they called him once. But here, with you, with her, he’s just Dante. Just Dad.

Tempest furrows her brow, tongue poking out in concentration as she mimics him. “Like that?” she asks.

“Perfetto,” he murmurs, kissing the crown of her head.

Your heart aches in the best way, watching them. This—this is the life you never let yourself believe you could have. Not with a man like him. But he gave it to you anyway. Fought for it. Fought for you.

He notices you watching. “She’s a natural,” he says, eyes warm, but sharp with pride.

You cross the room and kneel beside them, brushing a curl from Tempest’s cheek before it dips into the paint. That’s because she has the best teacher.

Tempest looks between the two of you and grins—a smile so wide it leaves paint smears on her dimples. “I’m painting a dragon,” she announces. “He’s guarding a treasure. Mommy’s the treasure.”

Dante raises an eyebrow, amused. “And what am I?”

Tempest thinks hard. “You’re the dragon.”

You laugh, and Dante’s smirk is slow and dangerous. “She’s not wrong,” he says, pulling you into his side. His hand finds the small of your back, grounding you in a way only he can. “I would burn down the world for you.”

Tempest, oblivious to the weight of his words, dips her brush in gold and begins adding flames to her dragon.

You rest your head on Dante’s shoulder, watching her work. Watching the sunlight play across the paint-splattered floor. The only kingdom that ever mattered is right here. And it's ruled by love.