What Must Be Protected

Even with a blade held to her throat, Sylvia didn’t even blink.

“Do you think this will scare me?”

“Yes, I assumed it wouldn’t.”

Sylvia had endured and overcome far too many hardships to be shaken by a mere blade.

But frightening her wasn’t Fren’s goal in the first place.

“What do you think, Vanessa?”

Vanessa leaned toward Sylvia’s neck to inspect it.

There was nothing hanging there.

“She isn’t wearing the necklace.”

“Really?”

“…Do you think I’m an idiot? After what happened, why would I walk around wearing it?”

“That’s a relief.”

The moment Sylvia scoffed, Fren pulled a necklace from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“Vanessa found the real one.”

Sylvia’s mocking smile froze instantly.

Fren examined the delicate, complex patterns engraved on the locket and nodded.

“Of course. For someone like ‘Sylvia,’ they wouldn’t give just anything.”

The locket was a special commission Nepher had ordered specifically for Sylvia.

Fren sighed as he traced the intricate etchings.

Nepher probably hadn’t imagined that his sincere desire to give Sylvia something unique would one day become a chain around her ankle.

People’s devotion to Sylvia was often impressive—and troublesome.

Sylvia bared her teeth.

“I kept it in a locked safe. How?”

“The password was too easy. Niobe’s birthday, Niobe’s death anniversary… and I figured ‘the day you met Niobe’ might work. And it opened instantly. If it’s that precious to you, you should secure it better. Older folks really need to stop using sentimental dates as passwords.”

Sylvia tried to snatch the necklace, but Vanessa still had the dagger against her throat.

The humiliation was so great Sylvia nearly began crying from sheer frustration.

“…Why are you doing this to me?”

Fren lifted his head, still rubbing the locket with his thumb.

“What’s your goal in all this? Revenge for my father? Do you want the head position on top of the elder seat?”

“…….”

“Why are you so desperate to torment me?!”

Her voice was as sharp as the sirens’ cries in the ruins.

Vanessa anxiously glanced at Fren.

He continued touching the locket, expressionless.

“I have questions.”

“Then ask! Why go this far?!”

“Mother, why have you become so emotional and foolish?”

Sylvia’s breath caught.

Fren smiled faintly and rested his chin on his hand.

“If you really wanted to keep this safe, you should’ve entrusted it to another elf or hidden it somewhere I wouldn’t find. I truly don’t understand. How can you not endure even a moment? If you waited just a little, you wouldn’t have to face this humiliation.”

“…I told you. That’s Niobe’s last memento! All the others burned. If I don’t keep this close, I won’t survive.”

“This is just a bundle of hair. It isn’t Niobe.”

A weight dropped in Sylvia’s chest.

Her eyes trembled as she stared at her son.

“…So even you deny her existence?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

Fren rubbed his forehead.

Every time he tried to reason with her, it felt like arguing with a child who couldn’t tell friend from foe.

The conversation simply never progressed.

Once again, Fren had to retreat first.

Sylvia was crying openly now.

Fren motioned to her.

“Come here, Mother.”

“…….”

Sylvia turned away stubbornly.

Fren signaled quietly to Vanessa.

Vanessa gently wrapped an arm around Sylvia’s shoulders, speaking in a soft voice.

“Master Fren will return the necklace to you.”

“…Really?”

“Yes, of course.”

Mimicking the tone and gestures Niobe used to soothe a young Sylvia, Vanessa guided her to stand before Fren.

Fren fastened the necklace back around her neck.

As soon as it touched her skin, Sylvia fell silent as though nothing had happened.

Fren rubbed his aching forehead.

“I won’t touch it again. But you need to step outside again.”

“…….”

“Attend the royal rites, and then start easing back into other duties. Just until I retire from the elder seat. You can grow the Pronia family far more than I can. And then, I’ll never bother Niobe’s descendants again. That’s all I want.”

Sylvia fiddled with the locket—then, at last, accepted his proposal.

After sending Sylvia off, Fren collapsed into a soft chair.

“That was horrifying. I feel like my intelligence is dropping. I really need to avoid being in enclosed spaces with her.”

“You did very well, Master Fren.”

“How did she become like this over a human? Of all things.”

“…….”

His mother, who once controlled everything, couldn’t even control her own heart now.

It was tragic.

Fren muttered:

“I won’t let her rot away reminiscing about some human. If her condition worsens and she behaves like that in public…”

He shook his head.

That was why he forced her back into public life.

When people get busy, they forget things—even painful obsessions.

Half the goal was already achieved. Yet he felt no satisfaction.

Fren wrapped an arm around Vanessa’s waist as she settled on his lap.

“…Why am I still irritated?”

Sylvia’s tear-stained face lingered in his mind.

Fren spoke a quiet truth he never said aloud:

“I wish she didn’t cry with the same face as mine.”

“Why?”

“It feels like I’m the one crying. It’s disgusting.”

“Crying isn’t always bad.”

“Useful for guilt-tripping your opponent, sure. Otherwise? I hate it. I hate feeling out of control. But…”

Fren brushed Vanessa’s bangs away.

“Your tears are different.”

“…Mine?”

“Yeah. I like them.”

Vanessa straightened immediately.

“Then I’ll cry for you whenever you want.”

“How?”

“Well… um…”

She thought seriously, then her gaze landed on the dagger atop the table.

“Wait here. If I do it outside—”

“Vanessa.”

Fren gently caught her wrist, smiling but firm.

“No need for that. There’s an easier way.”

“What way?”

“I’ll show you. Put the dagger down first.”

Vanessa immediately obeyed and set the dagger aside.

She turned back toward him with curious eyes—then startled.

“Master Fren? What are you doing…?”

“It’s okay. Relax.”

Fren pulled her gently toward him, guiding her onto his lap, his voice warm but commanding.

“As I said before… some things are better learned in practice.”

Vanessa hesitated, flustered, but Fren only chuckled softly.

“I’m not asking much. Just stay here. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Time passed quietly—intimate, tense, but without overstepping the line Fren drew.

When it ended, Vanessa’s shoulders were trembling, her eyes damp from emotion rather than pain.

Fren wiped her cheek with a thumb.

“See? Much better than hurting yourself. If you ever want to cry again… just come to me.”

Vanessa didn’t answer, but Fren wasn’t angry.

Her silence was endearing.

He buried his face briefly in her hair and whispered:

“Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.”

The two disappeared into the bathroom together.

The door closed with a soft click—and stayed closed for a long time.

“Vanessa is still too delicate. It’s a problem.”

“…I’m really fine.”

Only after quite some time in the bathroom had Vanessa been freed.

She lay on the bed exhausted, while Fren, freshly washed and fragrant, played with her arm with concern.

“How can you say you’re fine when your arm is like this? I should get you some restorative tonic.”

“No need for such things for a s*ave.”

“You’re like this now. What about later?”

Vanessa avoided his eyes and murmured:

“…I can handle it.”

“Hm. That doesn’t sound very fun. I’ll have to find another way to make you cry next time.”

“W-what?!”

The thunderbolt in his voice made Vanessa recoil, but Fren only smiled innocently—as if he had said nothing unusual at all.