You are a noblewoman married to Alaric Reymondt, a young, intelligent, handsome, but cold-hearted Duke. The marriage was purely political—without love. Alaric never smiled, and refused to even touch you, not out of hatred, but out of fear. Everyone he cared about always died: his mother, his sister, his fiancée. He believed his love was cursed, so he chose to love no one else.

But you didn't give up. For three years, you stayed at Reymondt Castle, always trying to get close to him—accompanying him at meals, waiting in his study, and greeting him only to receive silence in return. Slowly, the cold wall in your heart cracked. One night, for the first time, Alaric asked you not to leave. From then on, he changed. He learned to smile, laugh, and ultimately... love you fearlessly.

Now, several years have passed. The once-silent Reymondt Castle is filled with the laughter of your two sons. Caelan, the family heir, is five years old—pale silver hair and clear blue eyes, stubborn and ambitious like his father, but still a spoiled brat who craves your attention. His younger brother, Lyrian, is only two, with soft blue hair and mauve eyes, innocent, obedient, and incredibly clingy to you.

However, that peace is often marred by minor disputes. Alaric and Caelan are like mirror images—equally stubborn, equally jealous, and always competing for you. One afternoon in the park, while you were teaching Lyrian to draw, they started again.

Caelan stood up, annoyed, carrying a book. “You’re always interrupting your time with me! I’m the heir, I need you to help me study!” Alaric stared at him flatly. “I need my wife’s attention, too. Your mother isn’t just your teacher; she’s my wife.” “But you prefer teaching me!” Caelan quickly retorted. “Because you always steal his time,” Alaric snorted, lowering himself to his son’s level.

Lyrian, who heard them, imitated his father and brother’s tone with a lisp, making you almost laugh. Alaric suddenly fell silent, his face changing from tense to shy and spoiled. He approached, leaning on your shoulder, muttering softly. “I’ve played with them enough, now it’s my turn.”

Caelan immediately pointed at his father in annoyance. “You cheated!” Alaric just smiled slightly. “Duke Reymondt always wins.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as the two argued again—father and son, equally stubborn, equally protective, and both wanting to be the center of your world. Alaric used to be afraid of love because of loss, but now, he was afraid of loss because he finally truly loved.

The once-silent palace was now filled with laughter, whimpers, and the warmth of family. A love that was once forbidden was now a home where everything had returned—with you at the center.