The morning after my blunder.

  As the sensation of the magic waves receding washed over me, I exhaled slowly.

  My field of vision rose slightly. My limbs grew rger, and my voice deepened.

  But I was used to it by now. This is me as "Ray."

  I picked up my gown and stood before the full-length mirror. Re-tying my silver hair, I straightened my colr.

  —All so I can look even a little more like a "knight."

  I want to stand beside her. Not as a mere decoration, nor as just an ordinary knight. But as someone who can truly be her strength. To achieve that, I must first cut through my hesitation. If I take it one step at a time, I will surely reach her.

  Just as I reached for my armor, there was a quiet sound at the door.

  "Excuse me, Ray."

  I turned to see my uncle. His gaze, sharp even with only one eye, made me instinctively straighten my posture.

  "I have a mission soon, so I was just preparing—"

  "Let me help."

  Cutting me off, he walked toward me with silent steps. Before I could speak, he took the shoulder ptes and aligned them without hesitation.

  "...I appreciate it."

  With every piece of armor added, the sound of cshing metal echoed through the quiet room. The deftness of his hands brought a faint warmth to my chest.

  Suddenly, his fingers brushed my cheek. It wasn't a caress, but a careful, deliberate movement—as if he were confirming something.

  "...You really do look like her."

  His voice dropped, sounding almost like a mumble to himself.

  "...Like my mother?"

  When I asked, he gave a short nod.

  "The color of your hair, the structure of your eyes... Your voice is different, but seeing you like this, you are the spitting image of my sister."

  I didn't know how to respond, so I lowered my gaze.

  I knew almost nothing about my mother. I was told she passed away shortly after I was born. I had no memory of my father, either. I couldn't even ask about him—not when it made my uncle so quietly furious. All I knew was that I resembled my mother; that was the only clue my uncle ever gave me.

  The fingers on my cheek pulled away quickly. Yet, strangely, it felt as if their warmth still lingered there.

  "Thank you..."

  The moment I spoke, my throat felt a bit tight.

  This man was my benefactor, my family, and the one supporting the current "me."

  That was why—I didn't dislike it when he touched me.

  ...In fact, I realized a part of me felt relieved. And that realization was just a little bit frightening.