Ji Hoon—the now Cassian Ahn—stood stiffly before the towering gates of the Ahn family estate. The late afternoon sun bled gold across the stone walls, casting long shadows that stretched like watchful sentinels across the courtyard.
At his side, Beatrice and Adrine waited in silence, while behind them the entire household staff stood lined up in immaculate rows. No one dared to fidget. No one dared to whisper. Every breath seemed to pause in anticipation.
And for good reason. Today, the Head of House Ahn was returning. His mother. The Viscountess. Yuhwa Ahn.
When Ji Hoon first woke in this world, Beatrice had explained: three days ago, Emperor Charles II of Valeria had summoned all noble houses to an emergency council. The continent was in upheaval.
Four powers divided the land—the Valeria Empire, the Delivane Kingdom, the mighty Bramveil Empire, and the Eldoria Republic. Bramveil and Eldoria had been locked in a bitter struggle for years, but now… Bramveil had emerged victorious, swallowing Eldoria whole.
The Delivane Kingdom, protected by its mountain strongholds, would not be targeted soon. But Valeria, a vast empire sprawled across flat, open lands, now stood vulnerable. If Bramveil turned its gaze here, they would be the next to fall. Thus, the Emperor demanded a council.
Viscountess Ahn had gone to attend. And today—she was returning.
Ji Hoon's chest tightened. Great. I just got a second life, and now there's already a war creeping over the horizon.
But politics weren't what unsettled him most. It was her. He had never met her.
To others, Viscountess Ahn was the iron matriarch—stern, cold, commanding respect with every breath. But rumor also whispered she was fiercely protective of her only son.
To Ji Hoon, an orphan from another world, she was a stranger. A stranger he was supposed to call "mother."
Beatrice nudged him lightly. "Look," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the road.
A black carriage crested the path, rolling toward the mansion. The rhythmic thunder of hooves drummed against the earth, each beat hammering Ji Hoon's chest.
This is it.
The carriage drew to a halt before the grand steps. The door opened with ceremonial precision. A liveried attendant extended a gloved hand.
And then—she emerged.
First, the faint shimmer of her veil appeared, lace spilling from the brim of her tilted hat like liquid silver, fluttering with each breath of wind. The wide, elegant hat slanted just enough to shadow her expression, giving her an air of veiled mystery.
Her gown followed—a Victorian silhouette of deep plum and cream, corseted bodice traced with delicate pearls, her skirts layered in heavy folds that whispered with restrained thunder as they swept the carriage steps. Each movement was deliberate grace: the light touch of her glove on the attendant's hand, the crisp click of her heels against the gravel.
The moment she stood on solid ground, the entire staff dropped in a single, sweeping bow.
"WELCOME, MADAM!"
The courtyard rang with the thunder of voices. The air itself stilled. Her posture was perfect—back straight, chin high, every line of her frame radiating authority. Even beneath the veil, Ji Hoon felt the cold weight of her presence bearing down on him.
His throat tightened. 'Is she angry? Disappointed? Does she already see through me?'
Then—suddenly—the mask shattered.
She gasped, lifted her skirts, and nearly tripped in her haste down the steps.
"Cassian!!"
Her voice cracked with urgency as she rushed forward, veil flying, pearls glinting like lightning. She clutched his face between her gloved palms, eyes frantic beneath the lace.
"Oh my LORD—you're alive—are you alright?!" Her tone teetered between panic and disbelief. "Did you recover? Why are you standing out here?! Do you want to collapse again? Do you want me dead from worry?!"
Ji Hoon stiffened under the sudden onslaught of affection. Her palms pressed firmly to his cheeks, her forehead nearly bumping his as she scanned his face like a doctor searching for wounds.
The ice in his chest dissolved. Beatrice had told him she'd nearly refused the Emperor's summons after hearing of his accident. Only after endless assurances that he was safe had she reluctantly agreed to go.
'She really does care…for him...' Ji Hoon thought. The real Cassian had died before he could ever see this warmth.
He let out a nervous laugh. "I—I'm fine, really. You don't have to—"
"Nonsense!" she cut him off sharply, tugging at his sleeve, brushing his coat, as if searching for invisible cracks. "You should be inside! Not standing here like a statue waiting for me!"
The staff, still bowed, dared not lift their heads—but Ji Hoon caught the faintest twitch of smiles tugging at their lips.
Finally, satisfied he wasn't about to collapse, Viscountess Ahn looped her arm through his and swept him toward the entrance with imperious energy. The grand doors groaned open, swallowing them into the golden-lit hall.
Inside, warmth replaced tension. Viscountess Ahn guided him onto a velvet sofa in the study. Beatrice lingered behind, still wide-eyed at her lady's dramatic display.
Once settled, Ji Hoon tried to break the silence. "So… um… how was your trip?"
Her expression softened. "It was long. But never mind that. I brought you something from the capital." She placed a small, ornate box on the table. A delicate fork-and-blade crest was etched onto the lid.
Beatrice gasped. "Is that from de Clein?!"
"Yes," Viscountess Ahn smiled knowingly. "Your favorite."
Beatrice's eyes shone with delight. Ji Hoon leaned forward, curious. From Beatrice's reaction alone, he could tell this was special.
He opened the box. Inside were cookies—golden, studded with rich chocolate pieces. He took a bite. The crunch was satisfying, but the taste…
'Emm… honestly? I've had better back in my world. Still, not bad.'
Beatrice, already munching happily, asked the question that hung over them all. "My lady… what news from the council? Did they agree to peace?"
Viscountess Ahn's smile faded. She folded her hands in her lap. "Yes. Bramveil has agreed to a treaty."
Ji Hoon leaned forward, tense. "But…?"
Her eyes narrowed. "But they demanded tribute."
"Tribute?" Ji Hoon repeated.
"Yes. Some gold, rare goods, military support when needed and..." the last one came a little longer "...Sweets."
Silence. Ji Hoon and Beatrice exchanged baffled stares.
"…Why sweets?" Ji Hoon asked finally.
Viscountess Ahn's lips pressed thin. "As you might know, our empire is famed for its culinary excellence. It is said the Emperor of Bramveil possesses a… dangerous sweet tooth. As part of the treaty, we are to send yearly offerings of desserts crafted by the kingdom's finest chefs." she continued. "Even the Imperial Culinary Certification has been adjusted—focused entirely on recruiting a cook specializing with sweets this year."
Beatrice's jaw dropped. "You mean they changed the ICC?"
Ji Hoon blinked. "…Imperial Culinary Certification?"