Chapter 3

Chapter 3 — Lias

Aidan had become more energetic by the day, now crawling freely across the entire room.

He dragged himself forward on his belly—something that would normally get him dirty, but not here. The maids kept the floor gleaming every single day.

He tried pulling himself upright by grabbing onto anything he could reach, and Cynthia’s heart stopped constantly from fear.

In the end, her room became a near-empty space with nothing but the bed.

Where the table and chairs used to be, they had laid down an enormous, soft cushion. That was where Cynthia now spent most of her time.

Aidan crawled everywhere.

Perhaps because the polished floor was so smooth, Aidan’s crawling had evolved into a speed even Cynthia couldn’t keep up with.

A little boy’s energy was something else—both his hands and feet moved with incredible speed.

Cynthia secretly called it his “lizard sprint.”

But amazingly… he had started coming back to her.

After playing with toys and getting bored.

After getting startled by a loud sound.

He would explore, then return—using her like a safe base.

His red hair had grown longer, swaying with every movement.

Everything about him was adorable.

“Ai-tan.”

When she called, Aidan would glance back. If he felt like it, he even returned.

“A, buu, buuaa—”

Aidan began singing to himself.

Listening to his little voice, Cynthia leaned back against the cushion, drifting into a drowsy doze.

◇◇◇

She woke to the sensation of someone touching her cheek.

“Hm… Aidan?”

Aidan was clinging to her legs, fast asleep.

Oh wow… the drool on her dress looked like a map of an entire continent.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. Startled, she looked up.

Someone was standing beside her.

A grown man. Too close for a knight on duty.

Instinctively she hugged Aidan protectively and looked up—and then relaxed.

The bright, vivid red hair. The impossibly handsome face.

Her husband.

She had seen him in her memories, but seeing that face in person… its destructive power was unreal.

“……”

And he just stood there, expressionless, saying nothing.

Lias Pencilnia.

Head of the Pencilnia Ducal House, known as the Sword of the Fandrag Kingdom.

Their bloodline had always been Earth Magic users—knights with exceptional physical strength.

Lias was no exception. Gifted physique, unmatched combat ability. He currently served as the Knight Commander. His magic capacity was said to be the greatest in generations. People even said he had never known defeat.

He had become Knight Commander at twenty-five, after distinguished service in the last war. Then he married the First Princess Cynthia, and at twenty-six, he was both duke and Knight Commander—a workload that would crush most men.

Everyone knew the relationship between him and the princess was frozen solid, but there were no rumors of mistresses or affairs.

“If you sleep in a place like this, you’ll catch cold.”

He finally spoke.

It should’ve been a considerate statement, yet somehow it sounded cold coming from him.

Maybe because of his eyes. Unlike Aidan’s soft, latte-brown eyes, his were a deep, heavy brown—so deep they held no visible emotion, making them seem freezing.

“Um…”

What was she supposed to say?
Welcome home? It’s been a while?

“How is your health, Your Highness?”

So formal.
Calling his own wife Your Highness—and even bowing like a subordinate.

It was like he had built a steel wall around himself, speaking only in rigid, official tones.

Was that the reason he felt so cold?

Or… was that tension she sensed?

“Ah…”

What should she call him?
You? Dear husband?
Even in her previous life she’d never said anything like that.

She searched her memories for what she used to call him, but…
You.
Barbarian.
Beast.
Yeah. No.

Lias stared down at Aidan.

“That child is…”

Yes, this is your son. Isn’t he adorable?

“I named him Aidan.”

“I see.”

“He’s your child.”

“I know that.”

His tone made her want to add, the child you’ve ignored, but she swallowed it.

“His eyes…”

Eye color often revealed magic affinity.

Maybe Lias had assumed Aidan would be an Earth Magic user. He had married Cynthia for a Light Magic heir, but the baby had been born with brown eyes—the color associated with Earth.

Or so everyone thought.
In truth, Aidan could use both Light Magic and Earth Magic.

But that wouldn’t be known for another decade or so.

If Aidan had been born with golden eyes—the sign of Light Magic—would his father have cherished him more?

No, no, no. That wasn’t the point.

Is eye color really your first comment? Not “he’s cute” or “he’s grown”?

“Did you come to see Aidan?”

“His Majesty asked what kind of child he is.”

“Father did?”

Come to think of it, Cynthia had never brought the baby to see him.

The father she remembered was endlessly gentle and loving. He had adored her completely.

Until the day he ordered her to marry Lias and refused to listen to her protests. She had stormed out of the castle after declaring she wanted nothing more to do with him.

That bitter remark… had been her last conversation with him.

Still—
Aidan was nine months old, and Lias had come because he couldn’t answer simple questions about his own child?

Where did she even begin with this mess?

“And what will you report?”

“That he is healthy. And that his eye color is brown.”

“…How is he?”

“What do you mean?”

Is this normal?
Are noble fathers incapable of showing joy?

After a long pause, Lias furrowed his brow and muttered:

“You need not worry. I heard the childbirth was difficult. Even without golden eyes, His Majesty will not demand a second child.”

She was speechless.

Who asked that!?

For a moment, her mother-in-law from her previous life flashed through her mind.

Right after she gave birth to her first daughter, the woman had said:

“Oh, so it’s a girl first?”

On day one after childbirth.

She hadn’t meant harm—it was just a careless remark.

But still.

Cynthia must have let some of that old irritation show, because Lias misunderstood her glare and quickly looked away.

“Buh… nngh.”

Aidan rammed his head into her chest, rubbing his face sleepily.

“—Hold him.”

“What—”

Why was he surprised?

“He’s your son. Look, he resembles you.”

Since she didn’t have the strength to lift Aidan, she simply opened her hands to show she wanted Lias to take him.

After a hesitant pause, he carefully picked Aidan up.

“F… faah… aah—”

Aidan’s face instantly crumpled, about to cry.

Lias panicked and tried to hand him back.

Absolutely not.

As a father, he needed this.

Aidan began crying—no, screaming. His voice was impressive.

“N-nurse—”

“No.”

“He’s crying.”

“And?”

Cynthia’s glare was sharp enough to silence him.

He struggled desperately not to drop the flailing Aidan.

He didn’t know how to hold a baby—Aidan looked uncomfortable.

Well, even if he held him perfectly, no baby would relax in the arms of a man they’d never met.

“I’ll call the nurse.”

“I’m watching him at this hour. Why call her?”

“He’s crying. Do you not feel sorry for him?”

Of course I do.

He had grown up without his mother for six months because of her illness.
He had never met his father until now.

Babies cry.
Six months old and already able to express himself—how wonderful.

Cynthia remembered something unpleasant from her previous life.

Her husband had once come home and said:

“Hey, the baby’s crying. Aren’t you going to soothe him? Poor thing.”

It irritated her, but she also felt guilty, so she excused herself:

“I’m cooking dinner. The oil’s splattering.”

He smiled kindly and said:

“Dinner can wait. I don’t mind waiting. Take care of him first.”

As if he weren’t standing right next to the crib with perfectly good arms.

“Just pick him up,” she had said.

But he’d shrugged:

“He won’t be happy if I do it. He only stops when you hold him.”

That was the moment she turned off the stove and put her fist into his gut.

Postpartum hormones. It happens.

◇◇◇

Experience was everything.

Aidan cried harder and harder.

From the doorway, the wet nurse peeked in. Cynthia shot her a warning glance, and she quickly stepped back.

Aidan coughed from crying too much.
His pale skin turned a bright red.

“A healer—”

“For what?”

“He looks like he’s suffering.”

“Try soothing him properly. With care. Talk to him.”

“Do you… feel no pain seeing this?”

Of course I feel pain.

Every cry tore at her heart.

But Lias would never understand Aidan unless he held him—unless he truly felt him.

They were unmistakably father and son, yet so awkward it was almost tragic.

This is enough.

Cynthia held out her arms. Lias hesitated, then gave Aidan back.

“Aidan, shh… Mama is here.”

“Hic… uu… h-hic…”

With her gentle voice and steady rhythm of patting his back, Aidan slowly calmed.

“Nurse.”

The wet nurse entered immediately, relieved, took Aidan, and left to walk him outside.

◇◇◇

A long silence passed before Lias finally spoke.

“Before he turns one, we must go to the temple.”

Ah, yes.

This world worshiped the gods through the temple.

All children were brought for a baptism before their first birthday.

“The ceremony must be done. No matter how much you dislike me, you will come.”

The baptism.

Cynthia frowned slightly, trying to recall memories from her past life.

Whatever she thought, Lias misunderstood and didn’t speak further.