The evening stretched long, with the last light of the sun casting a golden glow across the Songrim courtyard.

Hae-rin stood by the window, looking out at the distant horizon, her mind swirling with the events of the day. Her family had arrived, as expected, but now that they were here, she couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort.

Her father, Lord Tae-joon, and her mother, Lady Joo-hwa, had been both worried and proud in equal measure. They had always been protective, but there was something about their presence now that made Hae-rin feel like a child again. Ji-hoon, her older brother, was his usual teasing self, but even his lighthearted words couldn't fully mask the concern in his eyes.

As the sounds of quiet conversation filled the room, Hae-rin couldn't shake the feeling of being boxed in, despite the presence of those she loved most.

"It's good to have you back, Hae-rin," her father said, his deep voice cutting through the quiet hum of the room.

"Songrim is a dangerous place, and I don't think we can ignore that."

Hae-rin didn't respond immediately, her gaze still focused outside. She could feel the weight of her father's words, but they only deepened her internal frustration. Her parents had always worried for her, even when she was a child, and it was something she had long come to terms with.

"It's nothing I can't handle, Father," she replied, her voice tight but steady.

"I've trained for this, for the dangers of Songrim. I'm not the same person I was when I left the fortress."

Her mother's gaze softened, though her voice still held a trace of concern.

"I know, darling. But a mother's heart is never at ease, no matter how strong her child is."

Hae-rin could feel her mother's eyes on her, that familiar warmth that always made her feel small.

Ji-hoon, her ever-spirited older brother, leaned forward with an easy grin.

"She's right, Hae-rin. You've always been capable, but a little family support never hurt anyone."

Her brother's words should've felt comforting, but instead, they only made the tight knot in her chest grow. Why couldn't they just see her for who she was now?

Just then, Seo Yul and Dang-gu entered the room, quietly joining the gathering. Seo Yul, ever composed, offered a polite nod, his calm demeanor a striking contrast to the bubbling tension in the room.

Dang-gu, always the cheerful one, flashed a grin as he stood beside Hae-rin, his easy-going nature adding a bit of lightness to the atmosphere.

As her father, Lord Tae-joon, noticed Dang-gu, a soft smile formed on his lips. "Ah, young Dang-gu, I've heard much about you. You've been a good friend to my daughter, I trust?"

Dang-gu chuckled lightly, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Of course, Lord Tae-joon. I've tried my best to keep Hae-rin out of trouble."

Hae-rin shot him a playful glare but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "I don't need help staying out of trouble, Dang-gu."

Her father chuckled, his tone affectionate. "You may not need help, but it's always good to have friends who'll watch your back."

It was then that Jang Uk, who had been quiet up until this point, finally spoke, his deep voice carrying across the room.

"Hae-rin's strength speaks for itself," he said, his gaze meeting hers for a brief moment.

"She doesn't need anyone to protect her, but we all care for her, and we'll always be here if she needs us."

Hae-rin felt her chest tighten at his words. She didn't want to appear weak, but hearing Jang Uk's calm assurance somehow made her feel understood. Her gaze softened, a mix of gratitude and frustration swirling within her.

"I know," she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of her emotions.

"I appreciate all of you, truly. But sometimes, I just wish you could see me as... someone who can handle things on my own. Not as the youngest, not as the one who needs constant protection."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the room was silent. Even her father and mother seemed taken aback by her honesty. It wasn't often that Hae-rin let her frustrations show so openly, but in that moment, she couldn't hold it back any longer.

Seo Yul's gaze met hers again, and this time, there was something softer in his eyes.

"We know you're capable, Hae-rin," he said quietly.

"But it's not about needing protection. It's about knowing when to lean on those who care about you."

Her heart swelled at his words, but there was still a part of her that couldn't fully accept the idea of relying on others. She had spent so long proving her independence that it felt like a step back to admit she needed anyone at all.

"I suppose I don't make it easy for you all, do I?" she said with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

Her father smiled gently, his voice full of warmth and love.

"You make it easy for us to love you, Hae-rin. We may worry, but it's only because we want what's best for you. You're our daughter, and we'll always be here, even if it's hard to let go sometimes."

The sincerity in her father's words struck a chord deep within Hae-rin. As much as she hated being treated like a child, she realized, deep down, that her family's love was something she would never take for granted.

Ji-hoon gave her a teasing smile. "Don't worry, Hae-rin. We're just making sure your friends know how much you mean to us. Besides, Seo Yul and Dang-gu are just as much a part of this family now, right?"

Dang-gu grinned, clapping Seo Yul on the back. "We're family now, for sure."

Hae-rin rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the soft smile tugging at her lips. It wasn't easy, but in that moment, surrounded by her family and friends, she realized that maybe she didn't have to do everything alone.

Her father's voice broke through her thoughts.

"You're stronger than anyone, Hae-rin. And you'll continue to make us proud, no matter where life takes you."

And for the first time in a long while, Hae-rin felt that familiar warmth of belonging—a feeling of being loved, accepted, and cherished just as she was.