Look at this. The child has golden hair and blue eyes, just like you.

The newborn’s eyes, only a few days old, were vividly blue, as if holding the deep sea within them.

Valije was worried about Veronia, who stared at their child with an emotionless gaze.

Though she was nursing the baby, Veronia had never once smiled while holding the child.

Perhaps it was because they were being pursued, making her anxious for the baby’s safety.

Valije wanted to believe that was the reason. Come to think of it, they hadn’t even given the child a name yet.

“Do you have any names in mind?”

“Hmm.”

They hadn’t had the leisure to think of a name while constantly hiding themselves.

After pondering for a long while, Valije suddenly clapped his hands as if struck by inspiration.

“Yes. Kian. Let’s name him Kian. What do you think?”

“Kian? Isn’t Kian the name of the forest keeper?”

“The forest keeper Kian was born premature and frail, said to not live long—so they abandoned him in the forest. Yet Kian, who became the forest keeper, lived long and well. How about naming him Kian, wishing this child to live long and well no matter what?”

“Now that you mention it, this child’s fate isn’t so different from the forest keeper Kian’s. It’s not a bad choice. Perhaps this child, like Kian, will have to spend his whole life hiding in the forest.”

The thought of raising their son as a forest keeper, hunted first by the deposed king and now by Gillian, weighed heavily on Veronia.

But as helplessness crept in, anger surged within her.

“But, Valije. Let’s not raise this child weakly. Let’s raise him so that one day, when he grows up, he can seize the throne and bring justice to Gillian.”

Veronia’s eyes, which until now had seemed vacant and lifeless, now glinted faintly with venom.

Only then did Valije feel relieved, as if Veronia had finally returned to herself.

“Sons who resemble their mothers thrive. Since Kian takes after you, our son will live well.”

At that moment, the traps began ringing out loudly.

“Clang! Clang! Clang!”

Veronia urgently handed Kian over to Valije.

“It’s the King’s royal guard! Take the child and run!”

“We should go together!”

“Gillian’s target is this child! I’ll buy time—hurry and hide the baby!”

The infant, cradled in Valije’s arms, slept peacefully, undisturbed even by the clamor around him.

It was hard for Valije to tear himself away from the mother of this tiny child.

As Valije hesitated, the royal guards drew closer. Veronia, frantic, shouted at him.

“What are you doing?! Go now! Do you want this child to die?!”

Valije wiped away his streaming tears and looked at Veronia with desperate eyes.

“Veronia. Take care of yourself. Please!”

“They won’t kill me until they find the child, so don’t worry. I’m counting on you with Kian.”

“Veronia. I’ll raise our child well. We must meet again. Promise me?”

Valije forced his reluctant feet to move. He walked away, fading from Veronia’s sight.

As he retreated, Valije—still holding the child—was struck by the royal guard’s arrows, collapsing as crimson blood poured from his wounds.

“Valije!”

A terrible nightmare.

Again, that terrible nightmare.

Veronia awoke gasping for breath, frantically scanning her surroundings.

Valije, who should have been sleeping beside her, was nowhere to be seen.

“Valije?!”

Could it be that Valije’s return to life had only been a dream?

The dream had been so vivid she could no longer distinguish reality from illusion.

Hoping the dream she’d just had was only a dream, praying that seeing Valije alive hadn’t been a hallucination, she rushed out to find him.

Descending into the palace’s main hall, she was relieved to see the beloved back of Valije.

“Valije?”

Valije turned his head, his expression gentle.

“Veronia?”

It was Valije, alive. What had just happened was merely a dream.

Tears burst from Veronia’s eyes as she confirmed Valije was unharmed.

“Valije!”

She immediately threw herself into his arms. Valije, having reunited with Veronia, knew she often dreamed of the time they had been separated.

He stroked her head soothingly, as if comforting a child.

“Yes. Veronia. I’m here. I’m alive. I didn’t die. Well, I died—but I’m alive now.”

Even the strong-willed Veronia became utterly vulnerable before the death of her beloved.

Having witnessed Valije’s death, her sense of loss while living alone in the snowy mountains had only grown deeper.

“You boasted you’d live well without me. But you can’t, can you?”

Only then did Veronia snap back to herself, embarrassed. She pulled away from Valije’s embrace and coughed awkwardly, feigning nonchalance.

“I woke up hungry, that’s all.”

Though she spoke calmly, moments ago her expression had clearly betrayed anxiety to anyone watching.

“Were you perhaps worried I wasn’t beside you?”

“No. I just wondered what you were up to, so I came down.”

“You didn’t come to confirm whether you could believe I was truly alive?”

Valije approached her, smirking slightly as if reading her thoughts.

Strangely, Veronia could never hide her emotions in front of Valije.

So she merely coughed again and pretended indifference.

“Oh. I’m hungry. Valije, have you prepared the meal?”

“This is a palace—I don’t prepare meals here, Veronia.”

After marrying in the barren forest and living there ever since, meals had always been Valije’s responsibility.

Until recently, while in the snowy mountains, Valije had always prepared the food—so the words slipped out of Veronia’s mouth out of habit.

“That’s right. We’re in the palace now.”

Thinking of that, she suddenly missed Kian. Veronia had never erased the memory of first holding Kian.

After all, she’d barely nursed him a few times before they were forced to part.

Valije, seeming to pierce through her thoughts, stared at her quietly before speaking.

“Veronia. Kian has been enjoying his financiers lately. How about inviting him to join us for dessert after the meal?”

Ever since Veronia and Valije entered the palace, Kian—as he had when Yura was present—continued to share breakfast with them daily.

But Veronia had never once stayed for dessert with Kian.

“I’m too busy with state affairs to casually have dessert.”

“Even kings need rest. You’ve never had a proper conversation over dessert with him.”

“You need something to talk about.”

“Why not? You can tell him about your pregnancy dreams, or the story of how we first met.”

Since Veronia had never reflected on such ordinary, everyday moments, the idea of sharing them with Kian felt awkward.

“Pregnancy dreams?”

“Yes, pregnancy dreams.”

“Didn’t you already tell him all those stories?”

“I thought back then that someday our whole family would be together. If I told him everything in advance, he’d have nothing left to hear from you. So I promised to let you tell him when we met again.”

The thought that Valije had waited for her with such care made Veronia’s heart ache.

Yet, against her feelings, her tone came out curt again.

“I’ll think about it.”

“It’s not a difficult thing. Why not skip thinking and just do it, Princess Mama?”

He’d deliberately said it jokingly, fearing she might feel uncomfortable. But as soon as Veronia shot him a glare, he quickly averted his eyes, sensing her mood.

Whenever Kian’s arrival time neared, Valije would go out early to greet him, singing “my little one, my little one”—only to switch to an awkwardly formal “Have you arrived, Your Grace?” the moment he actually saw Kian.

He could never have played such a joke if others were around Kian. Fortunately, since Kian visited the Daisy Palace alone in the mornings, such antics were possible.

Today was no different. The moment he saw Kian, Valije beamed and rushed over, bowing deeply.

“Have you arrived, Your Grace?”

Kian, amused, mimicked Valije’s bow.

“Did you sleep well last night, Father Majesty?”

“Oh yes. I slept very well.”

Valije giggled mischievously, and Kian giggled along with him.

But soon Valije straightened his expression and said seriously,

“It’s fine to drop formality when it’s just us two, but be careful with your words in front of your mother. Understood?”

“I know. How is Mother Majesty feeling today?”

“She seems in very good spirits today, so don’t worry.”

“Really?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

Given that Veronia’s expression was usually dark and heavy, this felt like a rare blessing.

Kian headed toward the manor, feeling pleasantly relieved.

“Did you sleep well, Mother Majesty?”

He’d clearly heard that Mother Majesty was in a good mood today.

Yet Veronia’s expression was neither bright nor gloomy—just as dry and neutral as ever. So Kian assumed Valije had been exaggerating again.

Thus, Kian grumbled teasingly to Valije, “You said Mother Majesty was in a good mood today, but she’s not!” Valije responded by lifting his chin smugly, as if confirming his own correctness.

‘Don’t you believe your father?’

‘No. I can’t trust anything my father says.’

The two whispering fell silent the moment Veronia lifted her head, glancing cautiously at her.

Seizing the moment, Valije nudged Veronia.

“Didn’t Your Highness say you had something to tell His Majesty today?”

Veronia shot him a look as if questioning why he brought that up, but Valije stubbornly lifted his chin again, urging her to speak.

Veronia, looking slightly embarrassed, dabbed her lips with a napkin, then met Kian’s gaze—he was staring at her intently, brimming with curiosity.

“Hmm… How about we have dessert together after the meal? Would that suit your schedule, Your Majesty?”

Without hesitation, Kian answered immediately.

“Yes! Mother Majesty!”