Persephone looked up and nearly burst into tears. “Morpheus…”

“It’s okay.” Morpheus smiled, patting her head. “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.”

Tears streamed down Persephone’s face. She didn’t know how she managed to stand up from that hard, tiny chair. Her whole being felt chaotic, yet she could keenly sense the person beside her, giving her strength and offering reassurance.

“She’s my wife.” Morpheus spoke slowly, his sharp gaze scanning everyone. “We finished dinner, went out for a stroll, happened to be at the dock, and unexpectedly encountered the ship explosion.”

“Is that true?” The officer remained skeptical.

However, the officer who had just entered the room clearly had a higher rank than the one questioning Persephone. Despite his doubts, he didn’t press further.

The officer pondered for a moment, perhaps reluctant, then continued. “Sir, the person in the adjacent room…”

“His name is Seamus Rutherford, my wife’s cousin.” Morpheus’ expression didn’t change. “He’s visiting.”

“Why were you all at the dock?”

the dock at the same time?” Morpheus smirked,

law in Flinge that relatives

“Well…”

have no connection to that ship,” Morpheus asserted. “And since we were just out for a walk, there was no need

patting Morpheus’

I’ve met his wife,” the

Morpheus

image of the ship’s explosion haunted her like a ghost. She

wearing only a

Seamus!” Persephone suddenly remembered.

“I spoke to them. They won’t trouble

“You spoke to the

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