The grand hall echoes with the distant clinking of silverware and the subdued laughter of the lingering guests. Mia and I make our way through the dissipating crowd, holding our precious bundles— Merlin and Morgan— close. The warmth of the celebration still lingers in the air, but I can't deny the weariness that has settled in.

Mia glances at me with a tired smile, her eyes reflecting the same fatigue I feel. "I never thought celebrating my birthday could be so exhausting," she remarks, her voice a mix of amusement and exhaustion.

I chuckle, adjusting Merlin in my arms, who remains blissfully unaware of the festivities that have unfolded around him. "Well, you did ask for a grand celebration," I remind her, teasingly.

She rolls her eyes, "I didn't ask for this grand, and I definitely didn't ask for it to last the whole two nights."

I nudge her playfully, "You're an ex-princess, remember? Commoners like us don't know how to tone it down."

Mia sighs, "Sometimes, I wish it will be less tiring next time, and please don't forget that you are Baron yourself no matter how lowly."

I smirk, enjoying her momentary grumpiness. "Oh, come on. Admit it, you enjoyed all the attention."

She raises an eyebrow, "Maybe a little. But it feels unnecessary."

As we reach our bedchamber, the servants continue their diligent work in the background, tidying up the remnants of the extravagant celebration. I gently lay the sleeping Merlin in his crib, while Mia wrestles with a still-awake Morgan.

Mia shoots me a look as if to say, 'Your daughter is wide awake, handle this.'

I scoop up Morgan from her arms, and she immediately latches onto my finger. Mia pouts, "She's supposed to be tired after all the excitement."

I grin, "Clearly, she takes after her energetic mother."

Mia huffs, "I still don't understand why you had to make such a fuss about my birthday."

"Correction, our birthdays," I pull her into a gentle embrace, "And because you're worth fussing over, even if you pretend to be a commoner now. Besides, the celebration isn't over yet."

She raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

I wink mischievously, "I've decided to extend the Generous Banquet for another day. Happy birthday, my ex-princess in disguise."

She groans, "You're impossible."

I laugh, "But you love me."

She smirks, "Maybe. Just a little." Considering she kind of gone and done sexually took advantage of me, then I guess it isn't so bad that she does 'feel' something for me.

The stress of my so much missed and envied past seems to be fading away, and in the warmth of this moment, I realize how much Mia truly means to me… no matter how 'sinister' she is in her core.

The dim glow of the bedside lamps casts a warm ambiance in our bedroom as Mia and I finish tucking our twins into their cribs. The faint sounds of their soft breathing reassure us that they've peacefully succumbed to slumber.

As we change into our pajamas, Mia catches my gaze, and I can't help but appreciate the curves of her figure. "You know," I say, "it's kind of weird you haven't gained any weight after the pregnancy."

She chuckles, "I guess I'm just lucky that way. Good genes, I suppose."

We make our way to the grand bed, a place that has become the sanctuary of our shared moments. Mia slides under the covers, and I join her, wrapping my arms around her. She sighs, seemingly content.

"You know," she starts, "I might never get used to sleeping in the same bed with someone every night."

I grin, "You've been saying that for weeks, and yet here we are, night after night."

She snuggles closer, finding comfort in my embrace, "Well, you're not exactly the worst person to share a bed with."

I feel her sensually peck my neck, and I smile. "In the mood for some late-night activities, are we?"

She smirks, "Maybe. I just thought I'd remind you how lucky you are to have me."

I chuckle, "No arguments there." I rather not argue with her after all, because it gets annoying.

She traces lazy patterns on my chest, her fingers light and teasing. "You're so serious, darling. Can't I just have a little fun?"

I kiss the top of her head, "Of course, you can. I'll never complain about you having fun."

She continues her playful exploration, but I sense a shift in her demeanor. She's more proactive than usual, and I can't quite put my finger on why. "You've been quite adventurous lately," I observe.

She grins, "Maybe I just realized life's too short to be boring."

I raise an eyebrow, "Is that so? Any specific reason for this newfound enthusiasm?"

She shrugs, "Just feeling alive, I guess."

Or maybe, she is 'savoring' me while she still can, until she decides to run off to chase her ambitions.

I decide not to press further, letting the night unfold as it may.

The soft glow of moonlight spills into the room as Mia and I lie in bed, wrapped in the silence of the night. A subtle smile graces my lips as I reminisce about the day she playfully forced me to give her my seed.

"You remember that day?" I ask, a mischievous glint in my eyes.

Mia blushes, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. "You really like bringing that up, don't you?"

I chuckle, "How could I forget? It's not every day a woman demands some guy's seed."

She playfully swats my arm, "Stop it. Just give me your gift."

I raise an eyebrow, "Gift? You've already seen it through your precognitive abilities, haven't you? No surprises left with you."

Mia smirks, "Well, I did see you give me a gift, but that doesn't mean I know what it is. And no peeking into my thoughts." She raises her hands defensively, daring me to not try any mind searching magic to her.

I grin and, with a flourish, present a silver ring, suspended mid-air above my palm. "Behold, the mysterious gift."

Mia's eyes widen with genuine surprise. "Is that... for me?"

I nod, "Of course. A little something special."

She reaches out, her fingers brushing against the ethereal ring. "It's beautiful. But where did you get it?"

I smile, revealing a silver ring already adorning my finger. "I conjured it, transmuted it, gave it existence with a considerable amount of magic power. It's born from an illusion so perfect, the world believes it's true."

Mia studies the ring, her expression a mix of awe and appreciation. "You really went all out for this."

I smirk, "You deserve nothing less." That is of course a lie, and then I add whimsically, "A little magic to add to our everyday wonders."

 "Thank you," she says, her voice softening. "I love it."

I lean in to kiss her forehead, "Anything for you, my love. Even if there are no surprises left with you, I'll keep finding ways to make you smile… well as long as you abide by this family's 'normalness' policy."

She grins, "Well, you're doing a pretty good job so far."

Mia turns the silver ring on her finger, eyes sparkling with amazement. "This is incredible, not just for the symbol, but there's a power hidden within it. I can feel it."

I smile, pleased at her reaction. "It's soul-bound to you," I explain. "A little something to enhance your magical prowess."

As she wears the ring, a subtle glow envelops her, and she inhales sharply. "I can feel it. It's like an immediate connection, a surge of magic."

I nod, "Exactly. This ring is more than just an accessory. It's your guardian. It cloaks you from distant scrying and prophetic abilities. Wherever you go, you won't be easily detected anymore."

Her eyes widen, "You thought of everything, didn't you?"

I chuckle, "Well, there's more. A little tracking function, just in case. You know, for safety."

She raises an eyebrow, "Tracking function? You didn't mention that."

I shrug nonchalantly, "Just a precaution. You never know when you might need it."

She smirks, "Always the protective one, aren't you?" Mia eyes me dangerously, I guess I should have not said that the ring has a 'tracking' function, but it is her loss if she decides to get rid of it.

After our union, Mia had immediately strengthened her Fate Wards around our territory, ensuring that those searching for her wouldn't find her easily. Now, with the ring I've given her, on top of her natural abilities, she becomes practically invisible to any prying eyes.

"But seriously," she says, studying the ring, "this is amazing. I feel safer already."

I give her a reassuring smile, "That's the idea. You deserve to have every advantage, especially in a world as unpredictable as ours." As long as she doesn't secretly raise a rebel army of her own, and suddenly march to the imperial capital with my son and daughter at the helm.

Mia twirls the ring on her finger, a playful glint in her eyes. "So, this magical ring is like my escape plan, huh? Are you suggesting you want me gone already?"

I chuckle, "No, not at all. It's just an added layer of protection. You know, in case you want to vanish from the flow of time or something."

She smirks, "Vanish from the flow of time? You're making it sound like I'm planning a grand exit."

I give her a knowing look, "You've always had ambitions beyond our life together. I'm aware that at some point, you might sever ties to chase your dreams."

Mia's expression turns momentarily glum, but she quickly bounces back with a bit of a tantrum. "Fine, if that's how you see it. I'll just take the twins with me then."

I raise an eyebrow, "Let's be civil about this, Mia. We can discuss it when the time comes. The children can decide for themselves when they're old enough."

She pouts, "Old enough? They're practically babies. I'm their mother. They'll want to be with me."

I sigh, "Let's not jump to conclusions. We'll figure it out when the time comes. No need to make hasty decisions."

Mia gives a dramatic huff, "Well, if you're planning to be all logical about it."

I smile, "Logic has its merits. We'll do what's best for the kids."

In reality, though, I'm secretly planning for the worst. If it comes to that point, I might just have to kidnap my own children and retire to a distant farm, far away from any prying eyes. The prospect of losing them is something I can't bear, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep my family together.

Call me insane, but I am desperate and obsessed about a normal life.

Mia lies flatly on the bed, staring at the ring on her finger with a distant look in her eyes. I sit nearby, unsure of what's going through her mind.

"You know," she says, breaking the silence, "your thinking is so old-fashioned."

I raise an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"The way of the Church has been on a decline for years. Marriages in this era are more like contractual relationships. A ring doesn't mean as much as it used to."

I furrow my brow, "Well, in my past life, rings were quite symbolic. If you don't want it, you can always return it."

Mia's expression changes, and she protectively embraces the ring. "I never said I didn't want it. It's just... your perspective is a bit outdated."

I sigh, "Maybe. But some traditions are worth holding onto. They carry meaning and history."

Mia rolls her eyes, "History that doesn't really matter anymore. You need to adapt, love."

I pause for a moment, then with a mischievous grin, I say, "If it's that bothersome, you can always give it back."

She shoots me a glare, "Fuck off."

I chuckle, "Alright, alright. Just trying to understand your perspective."

I childishly retort, "Where's my gift, then? You can't just receive without giving."

Mia avoids my eyes, and a faint blush colors her cheeks. I can almost sense her shame radiating from her reddened ears. In a small voice, she replies, "I'll do anything you want. You're free to do anything you want with me."

I raise an eyebrow, "Anything?"

She nods, "Anything."

I sigh, a tinge of boredom in my tone, "I just want you to be my 'normal' wife forever, you know."

Mia's eyes meet mine, and a small smile plays on her lips. "That's impossible," she says, her voice almost angered, and without warning, she straddles over me, her legs resting on either side of my waist.

At this point, the children are already asleep. Mia declares with an almost confident voice, with a bit of shyness in it that she means this— her gift will be her most submissive self for one night. Is it just me? Or is Mia looking forward more to this than the ring? Mia sensually rub her legs and crotch against mine as she removes her top revealing her sensual parts. I ask her if she is really serious about this, and suddenly I am in the mood… With a thought, I conjure a lifelike illusion of Mia having cat-ears and a cat tail. Mia is surprised by the changes. All throughout the wild night, we proceed with lots and lots more experimentation and cosplay.

"Ahem… Mia… you seem very energetic tonight, huh? Calm down…"

"No, you already bit, so we'll do it until dawn!"

.....

....

...

..

.

Mia wakes up, feeling unusually refreshed. The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. She glances beside her and finds her husband, still asleep, the peaceful expression on his face telling tales of a satisfying night.

Checking the clock, she realizes it's already 9:00 am. A stark contrast to her usual 5:00 am wake-up time, a habit formed during the war when she was still the legitimate crown princess. Normally, she'd wake up in short intervals during the night, but not this time. Last night has truly been wild for her, a deviation from her disciplined self.

Feeling a pleasant soreness, Mia can't help but smile. She can't believe she's loving this— the pleasure is exquisite. However, it's not just the physical aspect that's making her appreciate the marriage. It's the way her husband, generous and gentle, expresses affection in bed that makes their relationship feel perfect. Mia won't openly admit it, but she's starting to love this 'normal' marriage more than she thought she would.

The cry of her baby boy interrupts her thoughts, and Mia immediately turns her attention to him. She gracefully gets out of bed and heads to Merlin's crib. "Hey, there, my little prince, are you hungry? Here is mommy, so calm down." As she cradles the baby in her arms, she begins the familiar routine of breastfeeding, feeling a deep sense of connection and contentment in these early morning moments.

Mia carefully places her son in the crib, his tiny fingers still curled in peaceful slumber. Turning to Morgan, her daughter, she smiles and lifts her into her arms. Settling into the chair, she begins to feed her, the quiet suckling sounds filling the room. Mia marvels at the miracle of having twins, a fact that continues to astound her to this day. The imperial blood running through her veins, a legacy of power and responsibility, should have made conceiving difficult. Destiny, an ever-present force in their existence, made her family struggle with bringing new life into the world. Yet, against the odds, here she is, cradling both a son and a daughter.

As Morgan feeds, Mia's thoughts wander back to the previous night, and a blush tints her cheeks. She reflects on the intense pleasure she shared with her husband, the passionate connection that seems to deepen with each passing day. The memories of his touch linger, and Mia can't help but smile to herself. The room, once filled with the quiet sounds of a feeding baby, is now punctuated by Mia's own introspective musings.

"You're quite the miracle, Morgan," Mia whispers, her voice a mix of affection and wonder, as if speaking to her daughter and the mysterious forces that allowed her birth.

Lost in thought, Mia absently strokes Morgan's tiny hand, her mind lingering on the wild night that has left a lasting imprint on her memory. "I can't believe how many times he..." she trails off, her words fading into a knowing smile. The vulnerability of the moment contrasts with the strength of her imperial lineage… "And that BJ, to think such a sinful act is possible…" She touches her lips, disbelief in her eyes of how far she and her husband has gone last night.

With the twins contentedly fed and settled, Mia glances around the room, a sense of urgency in her movements. She quickly reaches for the small bell on the bedside table and rings it, summoning a maid.

"Bring warm water for my bath, and make sure the Lord Baron's bed is cleaned," she instructs, her tone a blend of authority and haste. "I need everything prepared promptly."

The maid nods and scurries out of the room, leaving Mia to collect her thoughts. In her eyes, the act of calling for assistance with the aftermath of a passionate night seems almost shameful, a private affair now made public. Yet, a different perspective takes root in her mind.

As memories of her father's indiscretions flicker in her thoughts, Mia's gaze turns distant. She recalls the countless times her father made love with his concubines, the blatant calls for maids to tidy up the bed chambers afterwards. It was a practice she had once found repulsive, a stark contrast to the dignity she believed her family should uphold. However, a realization begins to dawn on her – the reliance on maids for such matters might not be as taboo as she once thought.

"Perhaps it's not so different," she murmurs to herself, a touch of irony in her voice. The juxtaposition between her father's actions and her own seems to blur, and Mia finds herself reconciling the perceived shame with the practicality of seeking assistance… to such small matters.

Mia glances at her husband, who's snoring softly, oblivious to the world. A bemused smile plays on her lips as she notices the somewhat comical sight of his exposed private part. She decides not to disturb him and quietly slips out of the bed, careful not to wake him.

"Leave Lord Baron be while you clean," she instructs the maids who are readying themselves for the task. "I want him to rest undisturbed."

As the maids nod in understanding and begin their work, Mia sneaks a last look at her sleeping husband. There's a mischievous glint in her eyes, knowing that by allowing him this uninterrupted rest, she gains precious alone time with her twins. A subtle competition for their affection has been playing out since their birth, a playful rivalry between mother and father.

She tiptoes into the nursery, where the twins are peacefully slumbering… again. Mia marvels at their innocence, her heart swelling with maternal pride. The decision to give her husband some uninterrupted rest becomes a strategic move, a chance to deepen the bond with her children without any interference.

"Let's see who wins this round," she whispers to herself, a playful determination in her voice. Mia relishes the moments she spends alone with her twins, cherishing the opportunity to create lasting connections with them, one that might just tip the scales in her favor in the ongoing competition for their affection.

Mia sits in the playroom with the twins cradled in her arms, a colorful book in hand. She reads aloud from a fairy tale about a prince and princess embroiled in a fantastical war, her voice gentle and animated. "And then the brave prince faced the dragon, determined to save his kingdom..."

The twins, at a mere two months old, listen intently, their wide eyes absorbing the rhythm of their mother's words. Mia smiles, convinced that exposing them to language early on will help them learn to speak faster, even if it's just the soothing cadence of a story.

As she continues, Mia occasionally finds her gaze drifting toward her wedding ring. Her fingers trace the band absently, her thoughts momentarily escaping to the memories of the last night. The image of her husband's face, with his black hair, black eyes, and handsome features, intrudes upon her musings. A complex mixture of emotions plays across her face as she grapples with the lingering impressions of their interactions.

"Isn't that right, my little ones?" she says to the twins, refocusing on the story. They respond with adorable coos, seemingly captivated by the tale. Mia, however, can't help but wonder about the dynamics of the war in the fairy tale and how it might parallel certain aspects of her own life.

In the midst of the storytelling, Mia's mind drifts to the complexities of her relationship with her husband. The handsome features that once enchanted her now carry the weight of their shared history. Yet, she pushes these thoughts aside, determined to create a warm and engaging environment for her children, hoping that the stories she weaves will shape their understanding of the world and, perhaps, their perception of their own parents.

Mia continues reading the fairy tale to the twins, their innocent eyes fixed on the colorful illustrations. As her mind wanders, she envisions her husband, Randel, joining them in the playroom. A playful smile crosses her lips at the thought of him conjuring illusions to delight the twins.

"If only he were here," she muses, her voice carrying a wistful tone.

Suddenly, a revelation jolts Mia. A surge of conflicting emotions courses through her. Could it be possible? Has she fallen in love with Randel for real? She dismisses the idea, reminding herself of her initial intentions—to use him as a means to her own goals, a tool in her pursuit of power. This cannot be love, she insists to herself.

Her heart, however, refuses to comply. It quickens its pace, betraying her attempts to maintain a stoic exterior. Mia, a powerful sorceress and princess, grapples with the shameful notion of falling in love, especially with someone like Randel Eir Dromastus. The man fixated on normalcy, the very trait she once found peculiar and unbecoming.

"No, no, no!" Mia murmurs, shaking her head as if trying to dislodge the unsettling thoughts. She takes matters into her own hands, literally. Mia slaps her cheeks with both hands, attempting to force the distracting notions away. The sudden action startles the twins, their eyes wide with surprise at their mother's unexpected behavior.

"Sorry, my little ones," she says with a forced chuckle, offering a reassuring smile.

Mia, feeling restless and unable to concentrate, decides to break one of the rules her husband set. Annoyance flickers in her eyes as she makes up her mind, determined to shake off the tension gripping her. The TV, hidden by her husband near the bed chamber, becomes her target.

She drags the TV into the room, careful not to make too much noise. The rule governing its use dictates a timeframe between 7:00 pm to 10:00 pm, but today, she's willing to bend that rule. As long as they're not caught, she reasons, it should be fine.

The TV, a unique artifact from her husband's past life, contains small theater plays. Mia grabs the remote, contemplating the choice of entertainment for her and the twins. With a surge of magic, she powers on the TV.

"Now, let's see what we can find," she mutters to herself, scrolling through the channels. To her surprise, the TV displays various plays that mirror her own memories. Mia sees glimpses of shows from her youth, a nostalgic wave washing over her.

A smile graces her lips as she cradles both twins in her arms. The trio settles in to watch the TV, the enchanting plays capturing their attention. Mia, momentarily transported back to her younger days, finds solace in the shared moment with her children. Breaking the rule seems insignificant in comparison to the joy and distraction the TV brings to their evening.

Mia, engrossed in the TV with her twins, suddenly senses the approaching presence of others. She frowns, a hint of worry in her eyes, and decides to scry using her magic. The forms of two maids materialize in her mind—one with brown hair, the other with dark hair.

In a swift flurry of action, Mia sets the children on the mat and hastily covers the TV with a nearby tablecloth. The book she had used for storytelling is grabbed in a hurry as she resumes her place.

"Just in time," Mia mutters, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of the approaching maids. The sound of footsteps draws near, and Mia focuses on the book, feigning nonchalance.

The maids pass by the playroom, oblivious to Mia's covert activities. Relief washes over her as the threat of being caught subsides. The paranoia, once a source of concern, now amuses her.

With a wry smile, she realizes the irony of her actions—how annoying it is to engage in 'bad' things behind her husband's back. The thrill of secrecy, combined with the fear of being discovered, provides a peculiar perspective on the constraints of her own decisions. Mia, now back to storytelling, chuckles softly at the absurdity of her own mini-drama.

Mia feels bad at the moment, she could have just used her precognitive abilities to see whether the maids intend to come at the playroom, but no… Mia just has to panic!

Mia, still under the influence of her scrying magic, inadvertently overhears the maids' conversation. A sense of unease settles in her stomach as she hears their candid remarks.

The dark-haired maid gushes, "Did you see the Lord Baron's shlong? It's so long and big!"

A wave of embarrassment washes over Mia, but her curiosity compels her to keep listening. The brown-haired maid nods in agreement, adding, "I wouldn't mind having it inside me."

Mia feels a cry of shame deep within her core. The words penetrate her privacy, and she's torn between the impulse to intervene and the urge to continue eavesdropping. The intimacy of the conversation feels intrusive, yet Mia finds herself unable to resist the allure of eavesdropping.

The maids' conversation takes an unexpected turn, and Mia overhears their speculative remarks. The dark-haired maid chuckles, "Have you heard Lady Mia at night? She must be so lucky to feel that good every night, judging by those echoing moans."

A flush of embarrassment creeps up Mia's neck as she realizes the extent of the rumors circulating within the mansion. She never knew the sounds of her pleasure carried so far. The revelation leaves her feeling exposed, and she chides herself for not being more discreet.

The brown-haired maid joins in, "Indeed! I wish I could experience such nightly delights."

Mia, blushing in shame, silently resolves to address this matter with her husband. She contemplates the need for a sound-proof barrier, wanting to shield her private moments from becoming public discourse.

"I must make a request for that," Mia whispers to herself, her thoughts swirling with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. At the same time, she scolds herself for secretly looking forward to those intimate moments again.

As the maids continue eavesdropping in the kitchen, their conversation shifts to the relationship between the Lord Baron and Mia. One of them remarks, "Have you noticed how much the Lord Baron and Lady Mia love each other? He's never looked at any other woman, and he even gave her that beautiful ring."

Mia, who hears their discussion, feels a tinge of anxiety gnawing at her. The maids' observations touch on a sensitive nerve, reminding her of the peculiar circumstances of her marriage. The Lord Baron's unwavering devotion is rooted in his obsession with 'normalcy' and his high standards.

The realization, however, doesn't alleviate Mia's own feelings of inferiority. Despite being the former princess of the Empire, the contrast between her past and present leaves her grappling with a profound sense of inadequacy. She bites her lips, her internal conflict evident in the furrow of her brow.

Her thoughts shift to her plans—ambitious plans to abandon her husband and take the children for her own goals. Despite the firmness of her resolve, Mia can't shake the twinge of guilt and self-doubt. She gazes at the ring on her finger, a symbol of their union, feeling like she doesn't deserve such a token of affection.