Side Story – Chapter 7
The place Damian wanted to go was a souvenir shop.
It was a large two-story wooden building, filled with various items decorated with snowflake patterns—the symbol of Elnas.
“Mother, may I look around on my own for about an hour? I want the gift I choose to be a secret until I give it to you.”
Diana sighed helplessly when her son’s navy eyes sparkled up at her like a pleading kitten. She could never resist that look.
She called over a clerk and handed them a gold coin. In shops like this, you could pay a small tip to have a staff member quietly keep an eye on a child, so she did exactly that.
“Damian, promise me you won’t go outside the building.”
“I promise I won’t go out on my own!”
Damian proudly held out his tiny pinky finger.
Diana looked between his serious little face and that small, raised finger, then laughed softly and hooked her pinky with his.
“I’ll stay on the first floor, so take your time.”
“Yes! I’ll be back soon!”
“See you in an hour.”
Damian explored the first floor first, then, finding nothing that stood out, trotted up to the second floor.
Diana watched him until he disappeared at the top of the stairs—walking calmly at first, then speeding up in excitement. She couldn’t help but smile.
‘I wonder what kind of gift my little Damian plans to give me.’
‘I can’t just stand here waiting for his gift, though.’
When he was out of sight, she began browsing the first-floor displays herself, carefully looking for something nice to buy for both Damian and Harold.
As she compared trinkets, she suddenly felt a prickling sensation—as if someone were staring right at her.
She looked up.
A stranger—a young man with brown hair and a gentle face—was standing across the aisle.
Maybe she only thought he was plain because she was used to Harold; objectively, the man was handsome enough to attract plenty of attention.
When Diana met his eyes, he startled and bowed his head quickly.
She glanced behind her—there were several other customers in the busy shop.
‘He must’ve been looking at someone else.’
Deciding not to mind it, she went back to browsing, glancing occasionally toward the stairs to check if Damian was coming down.
“…Excuse me.”
“…”
“Lady?”
“…”
“Ahem, the beautiful lady with pink hair…!”
The voice came from right beside her.
Turning her head, Diana saw the same brown-haired man from before standing there, rubbing his neck shyly.
She glanced around again—there was no other pink-haired woman nearby.
“Yes? What is it?”
“Well, um…”
The man hesitated, his heart racing too fast for him to speak easily. His ears turned red. Just as he took a deep breath to finally gather his courage—
A shadow fell over them.
“My wife.”
Smack— Harold placed a quick kiss on Diana’s cheek and wrapped an arm firmly around her waist.
“Harold…?”
Startled, Diana looked up at her suddenly appearing husband, her eyes wide as if asking, Why are you here?
Instead of answering, Harold lightly kissed her lips this time and asked,
“Were you enjoying yourself? Where’s our son?”
“He’s upstairs with an employee. Ah—wait a moment.”
Remembering the man beside her, Diana turned back.
“What was it you wanted to say to me?”
“Ah… that is…”
The young man couldn’t speak. His brief crush had already been crushed in half a day.
‘She’s married?!’
Overwhelmed by disappointment and a strange tightness in his chest, he lifted his gaze—only to meet Harold’s deep navy eyes.
Those eyes were like those of a predator ready to tear apart an intruder trespassing in its territory.
Acting purely on instinct, the man bolted out of the store.
Diana watched the spot where he’d been standing for a moment, then turned to Harold.
“That was you, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you mean, my dear wife.”
“…You’re not even trying to deny it.”
After all these years together, she could read him easily.
Especially since Harold rarely bothered to hide his jealousy—it was written all over his face.
“But weren’t you planning not to tell Damian that you were here? What if he finds out you came into the shop?”
“Judging by how he went upstairs without you, he’s probably only buying one or two gifts. He’s careful when choosing, so he won’t be coming down soon.”
Harold glanced briefly toward the stairs, then wrapped his arms around her from behind.
Resting his chin on her shoulder, he smiled lazily when their eyes met and whispered,
“Which means I can hold you like this a little longer, my wife.”
‘That smile should be illegal…’
Diana bit her lip, trying not to melt under his charm, but her voice came out weak and flustered.
Meanwhile, Damian finally finished choosing gifts for his parents after much thought.
‘It’s not because I saw families having fun together and thought of Father. I’m seven now.’
‘I just wanted to buy something since we’re on a trip! Father only gets one because I feel sorry for him for stealing Mother all the time. It’s not like I miss him or anything.’
He repeated that to himself several times as he sat waiting for the wrapping to finish, feet swinging under his chair.
Just thinking about what he and his mother would do next made him smile with excitement.
‘Maybe we should go there next.’
He’d already decided their next destination.
Blushing happily, he looked out the window—then suddenly froze.
‘I know that man…!’
Outside the shop stood a man he had seen once in the ducal mansion, talking to Evan in the hallway.
They probably hadn’t noticed him back then, but Damian remembered his face clearly.
‘What do I do? What if he tells Father that we’re here?’
The man seemed to be watching the souvenir shop closely, as if keeping guard.
Then, another person came up beside him, whispered something, and disappeared into the crowd.
‘He’s probably going to tell Father right now!’
Damian’s stomach tightened.
He wanted to see his father… but not right now!
He still wanted to spend time alone with his mother—at least for a week… no, three days!
‘We have to run.’
With that thought, Damian grabbed the wrapped packages and hurried downstairs.
“Mother, I’m back!”
“Did you find something nice? Oh? You bought two packages.”
“Yes. I’ll give them to you later at home. Let’s go now.”
Taking her hand, he led Diana quickly out of the shop.
He tried to look calm, but he could feel faint presences following them—light but trained footsteps.
Scanning the busy festival crowd, Damian looked up at her and said,
“Mother, we’re going to run for a bit. It’ll be hard, but please follow me!”
“What? Damian?”
Gripping her hand tightly, Damian darted through the crowd, weaving swiftly between people.
Even Harold had once admired how fast and agile his son was—quick as a flying squirrel.
Diana called out his name several times, but Damian was too focused on shaking off whoever was following them to answer.
At some point, he no longer heard her voice at all—he was completely absorbed in escaping.
‘I still have money. Let’s get to the carriage station. Once we’re there, I’ll convince Mother to leave with me.’
When he finally reached the carriage rental area, he exhaled heavily.
The strange presence was gone.
‘I did it. I lost them. Now I just need to talk to Mother—’
He turned around—and froze.
“M-Mother…?”
She wasn’t there.
