CH:31
“Khan.”
As Aaron called the name sternly, the dog clinging persistently to Amelia’s ankle finally let go. But blood still gushed endlessly from the punctured skin. The pain hadn’t subsided either.
“How much more must I teach you before you understand that my warnings aren’t to be ignored?”
Aaron crouched down, meeting Amelia’s eyes. Gritting her teeth, Amelia struggled to steady her blurring vision.
“If I die.”
And she resisted with all her strength, to the very end. No matter how much he threatened her physically, he couldn’t break her spirit.
“Right. You’re defiant because you know I can’t kill you yet.”
Aaron let out a low laugh. Though the corners of his mouth curved softly, his eyes weren’t smiling at all—it was eerie.
“Then what if I say I’ll kill your child if you step out of line?”
Gasp. Amelia held her breath. Her trembling eyes stared at the man who was still smiling only with his mouth. Seeing himself reflected in her eyes, Aaron slowly let his eyes curl upward. His expression, at odds with his true nature, was gentle and soft like a spring breeze.
“What if I say your child will die like this too?”
“……”
“Torn apart at the throat, without even a chance to flail?”
Aaron grabbed her injured ankle tightly. The pain, like her flesh being dug into, made Amelia scream. She clutched his shoulder, digging her nails through his clothes and into his skin. But he didn’t seem to feel any pain—he was still smiling.
“Is that what you want?”
“N-No.”
Amelia sobbed, shaking her head.
“Remember it.”
“……”
“Your sister is dead. You are still alive for a reason.”
Amelia nodded repeatedly. She couldn’t even fully understand what he was saying, but she knew what she had to do. To escape the immediate horror. To protect her child.
Only then did Aaron release her ankle. Even that release was painful—Amelia gasped and bent forward.
Her body collapsed. As her forehead touched Aaron’s shoulder, her vision turned completely white.
Rustle, rustle—
The sound of grass being stepped on was pleasantly soothing. A slow walk before bed made for a relaxing nighttime routine.
“……”
At least until his unconscious steps brought him close to the Western Palace. Ivan noticed that the lights in Ian’s room were still on and stopped walking.
“Why are the lights still on?”
It was already nighttime, when even the palace staff were beginning to sleep. That tiny child couldn’t possibly still be awake. So Ivan assumed someone had simply forgotten to extinguish the candles.
“Madam Howard must’ve been exhausted.”
Ivan hadn’t visited the Western Palace since the day he first saw the child. He had no idea how Ian was doing.
“Your Majesty.”
“You’re working hard.”
Ivan passed by the guards who bowed to him and stepped into the Western Palace.
“Your Majesty?”
Something felt off. Candles were still lit throughout the corridors. Sure enough, Madam Howard was pacing the hall with Ian in her arms.
“Madam Howard? What are you doing out here in the corridor?”
“Young Master Ian just won’t fall asleep.”
She answered awkwardly while gently soothing the child. Ian only made faint hiccup-like sounds.
“He doesn’t seem to be crying.”
“He cried so much that he lost his voice.”
She sighed deeply. She said it was the first time she’d seen a baby cry so much, for so many days, that they went completely hoarse.
“The wet nurse is exhausted too. I told her to rest while I try to soothe him.”
Ivan quietly approached and looked down at the son who was still squeezing out tears. Even though no sound came, he was clearly still crying.
“Did I cry like this when I was little?”
“You were sensitive, Your Majesty, but not like this.”
She remembered Ivan well—there was no way she could forget the child she had practically raised. Madam Howard said Ivan had been a bit finicky but not this unstable.
“Why won’t he sleep?”
“It must be the sudden change of environment. No mother, no familiar faces, none of the objects he’s used to. He must not feel safe.”
She offered her theory as she gently wiped the tears from Ian’s eyes with a handkerchief. She was worried they’d become chafed, or that he’d collapse from exhaustion.
“We should ask them to send his things from the temple. Or even the person who used to care for him.”
Ian nodded slightly at her words. Ivan, realizing he’d been too complacent in thinking Ian would eventually adjust, felt as though he had placed too much on Madam Howard’s shoulders.
“I’ll send someone to the temple tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
She breathed a small sigh of relief and adjusted Ian in her arms. The child, completely drained from crying, simply wheezed in her arms.
That image brought back the face of Amelia, who had once fallen asleep nestled against Ivan’s chest. That one night they spent together—the first and last—her young, vulnerable face resembled Ian’s. Naturally so. Without Amelia, Ian wouldn’t exist.
“I’ll be going. No need to see me out. Once he’s asleep, try to get some rest yourself.”
Even as he turned to leave, Ivan kept his gaze on Ian. The child’s face brought back memories of Amelia and stirred thoughts of the love she must’ve held for her son.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Safe travels.”
A blond little boy. Amelia had said that unless it was a black-haired, black-eyed girl, it was of no use. But Ian had lived for months now. Amelia had protected the child desperately, with fierce affection. Ian meant something special to her.
She must miss him dearly.
All the way back to the main palace, Ivan thought about Amelia and the love she must’ve harbored for Ian.
“Your Majesty, won’t you be heading to your chamber?”
When Ivan returned to the palace but headed for the study instead, the chief chamberlain asked curiously.
“Send a few more maids to the Western Palace to help care for the child. Also, light the candle on my desk—I need to write a letter.”
The chamberlain quickly lit the candle and arranged paper and pen on the desk. He also sent for Madam Warner, head of the maids, to select a few young women with younger siblings to assist at the Western Palace.
Meanwhile, Ivan began writing a letter to the temple. It explained that Ian still hadn’t adjusted to life at the palace and cried every night until he was hoarse, causing concern. He asked them to send over the items Ian had been using and, if possible, the person who had been caring for him.
“Send someone swift. Have them leave now and deliver this letter the moment the temple opens tomorrow.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Ivan had just given Amelia a chance—a chance to climb over that wall. If she truly wished to see her child, she would do whatever it took to escape. That was a matter of her own will and effort.
Lost in thought, Duke Russell’s eyes stared into empty space. The moment he saw Ian, he instinctively knew the child had potential.
But in what direction?
That part wasn’t so clear. In fact, just the mere possibility of what those black eyes could bring was reason enough to kill the child.
At first, he had considered fabricating the child as Ivan’s illegitimate son. But even if the blond hair somewhat resembled Ivan’s, it wasn’t feasible. If he pushed forward a woman who falsely claimed to have slept with Ivan, the emperor would stop at nothing to uncover the truth. He couldn’t afford to make such a sloppy move.
“…….”
If only the child really were Ivan’s bastard—there’d be nothing to worry about. That was the thought that lingered in his mind.
“Your Grace, a letter has arrived.”
“Come in.”
The butler knocked and entered the duke’s study. Russell wiped away his twisted thoughts and received the letter with a composed expression.
“…….”
The line stating that the person closest to the child may be brought to the palace made Duke Russell’s eyes stop cold.
Naturally, the person closest to the child was Amelia—the one who had carried him for ten months and held him for nearly three.
If Amelia returned to the palace under the pretext of caring for the child until he stabilized—and if she then bore Ivan’s real child…
Wouldn’t that solve everything?
Ivan would have no choice but to make Ian the crown prince. Russell would ensure it. And once that happened, Ivan, Amelia, and the child would all be within his grasp.
Then, the throne wouldn’t be far off.
He had long since discarded the conventional belief that the temple and the priestesses must be preserved to maintain noble power. A faint smile crept across Duke Russell’s lips.
