"What?!" Ren exclaid, his eyes widening.
Sitting on the bed, Zayden held the oga on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around Ren’s waist.
"Yes," he said, his voice soft.
"So... you an to say the Crown Prince of Danshin was at the royal palace—in Revhara?!" Ren leaned backward, looking up at Zayden.
The alpha nodded, reaching for his lover’s hand and making small circles on his palm.
"I didn’t have the ti to et Brother and talk to him about it. I just can’t understand. Why would he let that damned alpha stay here?"
Ren didn’t say a word, lowering his head. His gaze followed the General’s fingers, tracing circles on his palm. He parted his lips, speaking softly.
"Maybe... sothing happened to the Crown Prince of Danshin. Otherwise, I doubt His Imperial Highness would have allowed him in the castle, right?"
Zayden exhaled sharply, burying his face in the curve of the oga’s neck. He pressed a soft kiss to Ren’s shoulder before wrapping his arms around him tightly again.
"I hope so. For a mont, I thought maybe... maybe Brother has a soft spot for him. I don’t want him to be hurt."
Ren’s lips curled into a faint grin.
"His Imperial Highness is just too kind."
Zayden nodded, resting his chin on the other man’s shoulder and closing his eyes.
The silver-haired man hesitated for a mont before speaking.
"You haven’t ntioned what happened with your mission. Did you succeed?"
Zayden stiffened imdiately upon hearing the ntion of that mission. The illusion he had experienced, the pain, and the scent of his exiled sister were things he didn’t wish to recall. Not now, at least.
He swallowed hard before forcing the corner of his lips upward.
"It was the usual. Easy," he chuckled.
Ren turned, and the alpha’s chin slowly slid off his shoulder. The oga looked at him, clearly aware of the lie.
"If you say so," he forced a grin.
"Alright, that’s enough story ti. Where is my little demon?"
Narrowing his eyes, Ren tilted his head to the side, perplexed.
"Who?"
Zayden opened his mouth before letting out a soft laugh.
"Our son. If I am a demon, then isn’t he my little demon?" He proudly folded his arms.
"In his room," Ren averted his gaze.
Noticing the young man’s strange reaction, Zayden leaned closer, locking gazes with him.
"Hey... what’s wrong?"
Ren didn’t say anything, keeping his lips tightly shut.
Zayden exhaled through his nostrils, narrowing his eyes.
"Co on. Don’t keep those beautiful lips sealed," he pressed, gently pressing a kiss to Ren’s lips.
The man was startled, his eyes widening.
"M-My Lord—"
"Hell no. Stop, stop, stop," Zayden imdiately covered Ren’s mouth. "My na. Don’t call that, please," he pleaded, groaning. He was tired of this man always taking one step closer, then two steps backward.
"What exactly happened to him?"
"He won’t open his bedchamber door. He hasn’t been attending any of his classes or sword and magic practice. However, he has been eating. He asked to have his als delivered to the door, and the plates were returned empty. He hasn’t left his room for... actually, ever since you left."
Zayden scoffed, as if what Ren had said was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.
"What do you an? Why would he do that?" Zayden simply couldn’t understand.
Eiran wasn’t this kind of child. He was a mature boy, and he always made sure not to worry his father. Although, if he wanted to, he could have thrown tantrums like those nobles’ children Zayden had seen during banquets.
"I don’t know. I tried to make him open the door, but he kept refusing to let in. He even said if I did, he would not see my face for a lifeti... So I dared not force myself inside..." Ren took a deep breath before exhaling, his eyebrows raised in worry.
"Haah..." Zayden let out a dry, low laugh. "He sure knows how to threaten soone. Worry not, I will talk to him." He gently patted the oga’s head, reassuring him.
Ren nodded, wondering if Zayden could truly handle his son. After all, it seed Eiran had inherited stubbornness from both him and Ilyan—and they both made sure to keep their words.
"Really?" he asked, looking at the alpha.
Zayden nodded, grinning brightly.
"There is little I, Imperial General of Revhara, cannot do."
Ren let out a soft laugh.
"Then let us test it. How efficient you are, General Zayden."
The alpha chuckled, pulling the oga into a soft kiss.
The silver-haired man returned the kiss, cupping Zayden’s face in his hands and closing his eyes.
Slowly, they broke the kiss, their gazes locking.
"Then we can go check on our dear son. Or else the family will not be complete, will it?" Zayden raised an eyebrow, smiling.
Ren nodded, freeing himself from Zayden’s grip before stepping out of the bed.
"I will shower quickly, and then we can go see him."
"Do you need help?" the General teased, a smirk forming on his face.
Ren’s jaw dropped in disbelief, his cheeks flushing a light pink. Then he closed his mouth, shaking his head.
"I am afraid I know how to take care of myself."
With that, he entered the washroom.
Zayden’s laughter echoed through the room—a sound Ren could still hear from inside the bathroom.
***
Yusha hadn’t known that giving birth ca with so many hardships.
There hadn’t been a single day when he didn’t feel restless. Nor a day when anxiety didn’t coil tightly in his chest for no clear reason at all.
At first, it was the nausea—relentless and cruel. Everything he ate ca back up, even foods he once loved. Soon after, even the sll of certain dishes made his stomach churn. Fried eggs, once his favourite, now left him gagging the mont their scent reached him.
When that finally eased and he thought he might at last find so rest, new troubles followed.
He cried over nothing. Over everything. Enzo and Ren visited him often, careful and attentive, always asking if he was all right.
Yet Yusha found himself snapping at the smallest remarks, irritation flaring without reason or warning. He hated himself for it. Eventually, the visits beca less frequent—not out of neglect, but caution.
Standing before the mirror, Yusha stared at his reflection. His chest had swollen noticeably, his nipples darker than they had been just the day before. He exhaled sharply and pulled on a loose shirt and a pair of wide pants.
Ren had made sure they were comfortable, insisting that tight clothing would only make things worse now that his stomach—no, the child—was beginning to grow.
Pain soon followed.
Sharp, sudden aches blood low in his abdon, stealing his breath and making even simple movents difficult.
Ren had suggested having his als brought to his room, worried that walking too much would only exhaust him further.
But Yusha had refused. He wanted to eat with the other servants—or sotis with Enzo or Ren—anything to feel normal.
He hadn’t known it would be this hard.
No one had ever told him pregnancy could feel so unbearable.
"Well... Ren did ntion how difficult it was for him," Yusha murmured to himself as he made his way down the hallway. One hand slid along the wall, fingers pressing against the cool surface as he relied on it for support.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
"You shouldn’t be walking around in this state," a familiar voice spoke from behind him.
Yusha froze.
His breath hitched, lodging painfully in his chest. He didn’t dare turn around. He didn’t need to. He already knew who stood there.
"Won’t you even look at now?" Liam asked, his voice gentle—too gentle.
It had always been that way. Soft, almost tender, like a whisper ant only for him. The kind that tempted without raising suspicion, that promised comfort while quietly demanding a price.
A devil’s whisper.
And every ti Yusha listened, it cost him sothing. However this ti, he could not afford to lose anything.
"W-Why are you here?" he managed to ask, stamring despite his efforts to steady his voice.
"I work for the General, rember?" Liam replied calmly. "I ca to deliver a report."
"If that’s the case, then go see him," Yusha snapped. His tone sharpened abruptly, betraying his unease. "Why are you here?"
"I..." Liam lowered his head. "I know I said I wouldn’t follow you... wouldn’t chase after you, but..." His voice faltered. "Is it really impossible for you to return to ?"
Yusha let out a dry laugh. The sound echoed through the quiet hallway. He brushed his hand lightly against the vase resting on the showcase, then let it fall. It shattered against the floor with a sharp crash.
Liam stared at the fragnts, his gaze narrowing. He didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—what Yusha was trying to convey.
"My lord," Yusha said quietly, "this is what I am now. And trust —no matter how much water you pour into a broken vase, it will never be able to hold it."
Liam clenched his jaw, his eyes dropping to the scattered shards of glass.
"Won’t you look at ? Just once."
Yusha shook his head, keeping his back turned to him.
"Yusha—"
"Don’t call my na," Yusha cut in coldly. "And if our paths ever cross again, I would prefer you act as though we have never t."
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