"I'm back."

The draft of air from the opening door set the wind chime ringing, producing a clear, melodious *ding-dong.* Aluka stepped into the entrance foyer and casually hung her bag on the wall.

"No need to change shoes, just come in as you are."

"Huh? Really?"

"You’re not wearing shoes anyway, are you?"

"Heh, true."

Moen scratched his head, then without further hesitation. He walked straight into the cozy little love nest of this newlywed couple.

The faint scent of flowers lingered in the air. The decor around him didn’t exude the celebratory or ceremonial vibe one would usually expect from a just-married couple’s home. Yet, everything—the placement of the furniture, the arrangement of the knick-knacks—felt so natural that it created an undeniable air of warmth.

"Your life here is already so full of flavor, even though you’ve just gotten married?"

Moen ran his fingers along the meticulously clean bookshelf, his gaze naturally drifting to the spotless, white wall.

Hanging on the wall was a painting. It depicted a middle-aged man, deeply tanned and smiling brilliantly to reveal a row of white teeth, accompanied by a more reserved, elegant middle-aged woman.

"Hm?"

Gazing at the painting, Moen stroked his chin and asked,

"Aluka, the people in this painting... they’re not you, are they?"

"Of course not," Aluka said as she approached. She glanced at the painting.

"That’s a portrait of my parents when they got married."

"Your parents?"

"Yep."

Aluka scratched her cheek, looking a little embarrassed.

"It's kind of awkward to admit taht even though I’ve been an adventurer for quite a few years and made a decent amount, for one reason or another, I never managed to save much. And, well... you can probably guess what I mean when you think about the way property prices have skyrocketed in Belland."

"So... you’re living with your parents for now?"

"Exactly."

"Got it, makes sense," Moen said, nodding solemnly as though enlightened.

It seemed that no matter what world you were in, housing affordability was always a universal problem.

"You actually understand? I thought you’d seem like a rich guy."

"Haha, do you think a rich guy would parade around with nothing but his skin for clothing?” Moen chuckled awkwardly, clearly not intending to let slip his noble background.

"...Maybe."

It was unclear whether Aluka believed him or not. She kept up the casual small talk as she ambled into the bedroom. When she emerged again, she had changed into comfy loungewear, now donning an adorable pink apron.

"Making dinner might take a bit. Want something to drink in the meantime?"

"…Coffee would be nice, something to perk me up."

"Sure... Oh, wait."

As Aluka was about to head to the kitchen, she paused mid-step and said somewhat sheepishly,

"Actually, I don’t think we have any coffee at home."

"No coffee?"

Moen blinked, his expression turning slightly odd.

"Did mice eat all the coffee at your place too?"

"What’s this nonsense about mice?" Aluka frowned with mild irritation.

"My parents never drink coffee. It gives them insomnia. So, I suppose we don’t keep any stocked."

"Ah, that explains it. No need to trouble yourself then; I’ll just take whatever’s convenient."

"There’s some tea…"

"Forget the tea! Just water. Give me water!"

"Got it, water it is."

Seeing Moen suddenly get all alarmed, Aluka wrinkled her nose in confusion before heading into the kitchen. A short while later, she returned with a glass of warm water in hand.

"By the way, where are your parents?" Moen took the glass, thanked her, and asked.

"As I said—they’re busy with the harvest."

"The harvest?" Moen looked puzzled. "But isn’t this your honeymoon?"

"Which is why they *are* busy farming," Aluka sighed, casually tucking a lock of hair behind one ear.

"Even a wedding doesn’t take priority over harvesting the wheat before the next rain. Besides, it’s *my* wedding, not theirs."

"I see. That's a lot of hard work." Moen replied with a faint sigh, suddenly finding himself half-tempted to recite a poem about the hardships of farming. After a moment, he abandoned the idea. This wasn’t the kind of fantasy world where poetic musings about toil can't bring him any praise.

"And your husband? Is he out in the fields too?" The entire time he had been in the house, Moen had seen no one but Aluka, prompting the question.

"No."

Aluka’s answer was succinct.

"He had something to take care of elsewhere."

"Ah, I see. Well, I assume he’ll be back soon. I mean, dinner’s almost ready. Though I wonder… Wouldn’t he misunderstand, seeing us, a man and a woman alone here together? Haha…" Moen chuckled, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.

"No, he won’t be back for now."

"Huh?"

Moen’s laugh instantly froze on his face.

"What do you mean by ‘he won’t be back for now’?"

"Mm, it’s nothing." Aluka habitually touched her cheek and sighed.

"I just found a note he left in the kitchen. He mentioned he’s dealing with some business today and won’t be back until very late. So, I guess it’ll just be the two of us for dinner."

"The two of us…?"

Moen’s eyes widened suddenly.

Something was… off.

Very off.

Newlyweds.

Husband's away.

Wife alone with a stranger.

And now they were going to have dinner together, in the quiet of nightfall.

This—this combination of circumstances was raising too many red flags to ignore.

A clandestine rendezvous filmed with a blurry filter for added drama?

"S-so… isn't it a bit inappropriate for it to be just the two of us?" Moen, suddenly fidgety, rubbed his palms together and said nervously,

"Perhaps I should take my leave now? If any neighbors see us two, alone, having dinner, that might lead to some unnecessary misunderstandings."

"Hmm? Feeling guilty already? Moen, could it be you actually *do* have some improper thoughts in mind?" Aluka asked, her eyes narrowing with mock suspicion as she chuckled softly.

"How can that be, I just think it doesn’t look like a good idea." Moen scratched his head awkwardly, chuckling nervously.

"Then there’s no problem. Relax and stay. I wouldn’t let a guest go hungry, and, besides…"

Aluka’s lips curved upward into the smallest of smiles, her face radiating contentment.

"My relationship with him… isn’t something a trivial misunderstanding could shake."

"I see…"

Staring at Aluka’s blissful expression, Moen froze, then instinctively said,

"You and your husband must share a truly enviable bond."

"Of course. He’s my favorite, after all."

Even as a newlywed, Aluka’s love for her husband was so unguarded, so apparent, that her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink like that of an embarrassed little girl.

"A-ah, what am I saying? Sorry, Mr. Moen… I didn’t mean to throw these awkward words at you."

"…No, it’s fine." Moen twitched at the corner of his mouth.

"I don’t mind."

He hadn’t expected to be punched by a fist of love this quickly.

"In any case, Moen, just relax and make yourself at home. I’ll go make the roasted lamb. Don’t overthink and, of course, don’t even think of trying anything *funny*. I know *your* type."

"The last part was completely unnecessary!"

"Well then, look forward to it!" Aluka said with a smile as she retreated into the kitchen.

…

"The water seems free of any sediment."

Moen held the glass up to the light from the window, examining the water inside.

"Clear and colorless."

He lifted it to his nose and sniffed at it.

"No strange odor."

Dipping his finger in the water, he rubbed a small drop onto his skin.

A few minutes passed with no reaction.

"No adverse reactions either."

"It really seems to be just a regular glass of water."

After running a series of experiments, Moen carefully concluded:

"No drugs. No strange substances."

"Logically, there’s nothing wrong with Aluka’s behavior either, but…"

Moen turned toward the window.

The view outside grew darker as night crept in.

The sky, clear and boundless, was dotted with faint stars.

The tranquil village echoed only with the occasional chirp of insects; no other sound could be heard.

"Something about this still feels… off."

…

"I love you."