Their lips parted, and Celia felt her mind was still in a daze, her vision blurry.
But then she suddenly heard the man holding her say those words.
She was puzzled.
She tilted her head.
Sure enough, she saw a dark figure crouched by the doorway—a petite elf girl hugging her knees.
Blonde hair, small frame.
That familiar little silhouette, one she'd seen countless times since childhood; she could recognize her even from just the back.
It was her dear mother...
After Liam spoke, Sephie let out a soft, muffled whimper and slowly lifted her head, looking as if she had almost fallen asleep.
"Lord Liam!"
She instantly snapped awake, exclaiming:
"No... You are the Demon King!"
"Are you truly the Demon King?"
Sephie scrambled to her feet, clutching her head and staggering back two steps.
Her expression shifted to one of delight as she murmured:
"To think my child actually married the Demon King..."
Celia wiped her just-kissed lips with her arm, her cheeks slightly flushed, and explained in a small voice:
"Mom, he's not the Demon King. Right now, he's only a Demon King candidate..."
Thwack!
No sooner had she finished explaining than a sharp, stinging pain bloomed across her bottom—so sharp it felt a bit numb!
—Liam had mercilessly smacked her rear, the impact landing with a solid thud.
"Wah... Why... hit me?"
She furrowed her brows slightly, her exquisite little face filled with grievance, unsure what she had done to anger the man this time.
The next second, that large, veiny hand with prominent knuckles moved, firmly grasping her soft cheek, his thumb pressing against the corner of her lips where a trace of saliva still lingered.
"Who said you could speak?"
The man's voice was low, tinged with a hint of simmering anger.
"I was wrong~ Lord Liam..."
Her words were muffled, a glistening tear welling up at the corner of her eye.
Sephie stood obediently by the door, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"So it's Lord Candidate, huh... Heh... You certainly know how to have fun. So this is how you usually interact? So forceful, Lord Liam, but I won't object."
As if suddenly remembering something, she quickly moved aside from the doorway and asked:
"Oh, Lord Liam, may I come in with you?"
"Come in together?"
Liam raised an eyebrow, replying in a low voice:
"Miss Sephie, do you know what time it is? I've been testing magic all day and I'm exhausted."
As he spoke, he tightened his embrace around the small girl in his arms, bringing her fragrant little face close to his nose and giving it a gentle sniff.
A faint, milky scent slowly drifted into his nostrils.
Celia, embarrassed, turned her head away and extended a small, pale hand from the gap between them, lightly pushing against the man's face.
So perverted...she complained inwardly.
So embarrassing...
Sephie blinked and glanced around.
Indeed, the sky was pitch black.
She put on a pitiful act and pleaded:
"Wah~ Is it really not allowed?"
"I made lots of desserts this afternoon and wanted to share them with you..."
"Don't you understand, Miss Sephie?"
Liam interrupted her with a faint, ambiguous smile, his gaze resting on the girl with an indescribable meaning:
"You're usually quite direct, so why is it that now you're acting as clueless as your daughter?"
"Huh?"
Sephie was instantly confused.
"Eh...!"
Sephie understood instantly.
She covered her face and took half a step back, her voice muffled: "Lord Liam, you're so bold~"
"Haha," the man laughed, a strange smile spreading across his face as he slowly advanced: "I've explained myself. Since you're still pushing your luck like this..."
"Very well. In my opinion, Miss Sephie is in no way inferior to your daughter. You're exactly my type."
"No, I was wrong..."
Sephie finally admitted defeat, her smile stiffening: "I already have Lord Lago..."
She had only meant to tease this demon man a little, never expecting Liam to take it so seriously.
His threat frightened her so much her face paled, and she hurriedly scurried away.
By the doorframe, she left a full basket of food, its aroma wafting through the air—it seemed she had poured her whole heart into preparing it.
Celia, still soft and pliant in the man's arms, also breathed a sigh of relief, burying her head back against his firm chest.
That had scared her to death.
She thought Liam's beastly instincts had flared up and he was going to drag her mother... inside too.
"I was joking..."
Then...
They entered the main gate.
Closed the main gate.
Opened the living room door.
Closed the living room door.
When they reached the entrance to the corridor, the man crouched down.
He helped the soft, pliant girl in his arms take off her shoes, neatly placing them on the shoe rack.
Then, unusually, he gently set her down.
Celia, coming back to her senses, went with the motion.
Her delicate little feet tentatively touched the floor, but her legs gave way and she nearly fell. Instinctively, she reached out and steadied herself on the shoulder of the man, who was changing his shoes.
If this had happened a few days ago,
if she had accidentally touched this man, she would have jerked her hand away as if electrocuted.
Afraid he would get angry and beat her.
But now it was different. Though Liam could be rough at times,deep down in a part of her heart she hadn't even noticed, he felt like a steady mountain, giving her an inexplicable sense of security, a desire to lean on him.
That feeling—it was like when she was scared by firecrackers as a child during New Year's, and her dad immediately ran over to cover her ears.
It was that same kind of reliable sense of security.
Since she wasn't wearing shoes, a slight chill seeped into the tender soles of her feet.
Unlike the wooden floors at her parents' house, the floors in her current husband's home were entirely paved with high-grade mineral tiles, far more precious than ceramic tiles.
—A few days ago, all these materials for the house had been provided by Liam; the elves only needed to build according to the blueprint.
Celia stood there dazedly, watching the man sitting on the threshold.
He was taking off his shoes, then his upper garment...
Hanging it casually on a small hook on the wall.
For some reason, she could always sense a wave of heat emanating from the man.
The living room lights were off, making it exceptionally quiet.
Celia couldn't help but feel nervous, her fingers fidgeting and twisting together below.
Given his demeanor, he was surely going to... devour her again?
It seemed... unless she was unconscious, it happened every day?
Wah...
I'm going to die.
"Really tired, my back and neck ache."
Liam held the back of his neck, twisting it slightly, sighing and complaining as he did.
"Yes... It seems, you are very tired..."
Celia agreed softly.
But speaking of tiredness, she suddenly thought of a possible reason and lightly frowned.
"Lord Liam, th-that... I think it might be because of the natural mana..."
"If you're not an elf, you shouldn't use natural magic recklessly. Even if you are the Demon King candidate..."
"Hmm? What, are there side effects?"